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you give me fever (like i've never, ever known)

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At this point, Mark should've known that his roommate wouldn't pick him up from work on a Friday night.

 

Kim Yugyeom, with his new boyfriend and new job, had better things to do than look after his hyung. The older man came second in the list of Kim Yugyeom's priorities, but Mark felt himself slipping to third every minute. He waited outside of the studio, deciding not to look at his watch as he waited for the younger.

Thirty minutes later, Mark had looked at his watch three times and found himself slipping into despair. The flurries around him had strengthened into what Mark denied was snow, partially because he loved snow and wanted to be pissed, and partially for his own sanity. If he thought about the fact that it was snowing, then he'd be cold, and that was honestly the last thing that Mark needed.

He zipped up his coat, eyeing the flurries with distrust as he set off down the sidewalk, stepping carefully to avoid slipping on what Mark decided was certainly not ice. His breath escaped him in long puffs, blowing back into his face as the wind tore at his eyeballs. The flurries became harder until they practically pelted him, and Mark was definitely lost and had taken at least three wrong turns and it was snowing.

Hell, to say it was snowing was an understatement. It was a full-on snowstorm that Yugyeom had left him in, with high-pitched winds that threatened to steal his hearing as they swept by. As his jeans brushed against his legs, they nearly froze to his thighs. Mark knew better than to stand still in this weather, but as he fell in a pile of snow for the third time since leaving the studio, he was done.

Was that a light ahead?

"Bless," Mark made prayer hands in front of his face, getting up and almost running to the light. It was a two-story building with a sign that read "WANG GYM AND DEPARTMENT STORE" but screamed "WARMTH"  to Mark as he fumbled with the near-frozen door handle that would usher him inside.

The draft of warm air flooded over him as he closed the door emphatically, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the heat. The heater was probably in the 70s or 80s, but Mark could not be happier. He nearly tore off his coat and mittens, rubbing his frozen hands together. He quickly found a nice corner with a heater and jogged to it, taking out his phone and shooting a quick all-caps text to Yugyeom wishing him a nice and speedy road to hell. The younger's boyfriend quickly responded, saying that he would gladly take Yugyeom to hell, but since Yugyeom had rode him earlier that day, he probably needed some rest first.

Mark contemplated throwing his phone into the heater, but a rather husky voice brought him out of his murderish tendencies. "Hello, welcome to Wang Gym and Department Store. Is this your first time?"

Now, Mark was neither gay nor homophobic. He was happily straight and currently had a crush on a girl who taught at his studio. But as he looked up, he couldn't help but reconsider his life choices.

Couldn't I have gone to a different gym?

Hell, couldn't I have gone somewhere else in general?

In front of Mark was something chiseled by god and blessed by the devil. He found himself inwardly gasping, his eyes narrowed in disbelief and slight awe.

"Jackson Wang," the man said. "I'm used to that response. Can I interest you in a trainer, or maybe a pair of shoes? A cup of coffee?"

Mark was straight, not blind.

Maybe he wasn't so straight either.

"Mark Tuan," he managed. "I'd like that."

 

WANG-TUAN GYM AND DEPARTMENT STORE