Jackson corners Mark in the library on a Tuesday.
Mark's feet dropping from the chair he had them propped up on is his only indicator Jackson has arrived, the other boy taking the seat for himself. Jackson drops a bag of Doritos onto the table and Mark furrows his eyebrows. "If the librarian catches you with that she'll ban you for a week again," he says, "and I'm not barrowing anymore books for you under my name, you still owe me for late fees,"
Jackson shrugs. The bag is so loud when Jackson tears it open that it makes Mark wince. He doesn't want to be guilty by association, not with this paper due next week. Jackson sticks his hand into the bag, just as loudly, and pulls out a chip between him thumb and forefinger. "That first year you think is hot is behind you," he says, gesturing with one of the sharp corners of the chip.
For a split second, Mark thinks he means right behind him. Which would mean said hot first year would have heard everything Jackson just said, which would be mortifying. Mark whips his head around, so fast he knocks his pen off the table and nearly pulls a muscle in his neck. There's no one directly behind him though, which is a relief.
'Hot first year,' or Park Jinyoung, is at least three tables behind Mark. He has a Starbucks cup on his table and his glasses pushed high on the bridge of his nose, which is planted firmly between the pages of a textbook. He probably doesn't even know Mark is here. Mark isn't even sure Jinyoung would remember who he was - Mark had seen him at a party once. It had been a rare off-campus thing he went to, he doesn't even remember who invited him. He and Jinyoung have a mutual friend, Mark thinks, those he's not sure who. Maybe that kid Youngjae, who always steals his pencils and chews on the ends and who's in the chess club. Is Jinyoung in the chess club? Mark doesn't know.
Mark huffs. All the relief has washed away and all he's left with is annoyance, directed firmly at Jackson, which doubles when Mark turns back around and sees his smirking face. Mark's neck is aching.
"When did I tell you I thought he was hot?" Mark asks.
Jackson hums. His hand comes out of the chip bag stained orange and so he starts to lick at the tips of his fingers. "You just did," he replies smugly.
Mark and Jackson aren't a Thing, except for when they kind of are.
At first, it was just good luck. Mark joined a fraternity (Lambda Phi Epsilon, LFE, Leaders Among Men) and met Jackson. It was good luck, because initiation and tests and papers are stressful and sex is good for that, they say. Because Jackson liked sucking dick and Mark liked getting his dick sucked. After that, it was just sort of natural progression, that Mark stopped trying to hook up at parties. They never talked about it, they have never talked about him, and Mark doesn't think he and Jackson have to. As long as Jackson is willing to take Mark home after a party and blow him and finger him and left Mark come on his chest, Mark doesn't see why he should spend any time making other efforts. He can just sharpen up his beer pong skills, get better at drinking his other fraternity brothers under the table. Jackson's never complained either.
Especially right now, Mark doesn't think Jackson has anything to complain about. When Mark got home from class, Jackson had pinned him to his shitty, college-provided mattress and scratchy old quilt from home, and pulled his shirt off. He had ducked down and started sucking and biting a dark hickey just above the place where the collar of Mark's shirt rests after that, and this is where he is now. Masterpiece nearly complete.
Jackson does this every time the hickey fades, puts fresh teeth marks and makes the bruise go through a brand new scheme of healing colours. If Mark didn't know better, didn't know Jackson as well as he does, it would seem possessive. But Mark does know Jackson as well as he does, so he also knows that Jackson is a damn show off.
Mark groans in the back of his throat at a particularly hard graze of Jackson's teeth, right up against a jut of bone. He moves his hands from Jackson's ass to cup around his hips, underneath the flimsy material of his t-shirt. Jackson lifts his head to look up at him, mischief reflected in his eyes back at Mark. Jackson rolls his hips then, a slow, long grind, a deliberate rough move of his hips and Mark knows it's just to watch him bite his lip and shut his eyes. Maybe let out a shuddering breath, if he's lucky.
Mark is still like this, eyes shut and breathing shallow, when Jackson squirms up his body to kiss him. It's hot and wet. Mark wants Jackson to take his own shirt off, so he can feel skin on skin. He wants Jackson to slink back down the length of him and settle between his spread legs, tug down Mark's sweat pants and give his cock little teasing kitten licks before taking it all his mouth.
"Do you think that Jinyoung kid has ever had his dick sucked?" Jackson says instead of all of that, "or, do you think he's ever sucked dick?"
Mark's eyes snap open, teeth catching on his top lip when he closes his once slack-jawed mouth. He looks down at Jackson, "What?"
Jackson licks the side of Mark's jaw, "That first year you're so into," he says, slowly and almost quiet, though Mark can hear him perfectly. "I mean, he's always struck me as being too - I don't know, pure and virtuous, y'know? Maybe it's the specs, he should get contacts."
Mark is never quite sure how to react when Jackson talks about him being attracted to Jinyoung. Mark doesn't think they're exclusive, him and Jackson, at least they've never agreed to that. They haven't, but Mark hasn't slept with anybody else in months, maybe even in a year and some. As far as he knows, Jackson hasn't either. It's an uneven ground to stand on, when the person Mark's been hooking up with talks about the person Mark (might?) want to hook up with. Mark never hears jealousy tugging the edges of Jackson's voice when he mentions Jinyoung though, or even Mark's attraction to him. Mark doesn't see any reason to press the issue.
"Why are you -" bringing this up now? Mark wants to ask. Something about the look on Jackson's face has him holding back, though. If he looked mischievous before, Jackson looks down right devilish now. But it's still subtle, hidden behind the normal shade of predatory glances he always gives Mark when he has Mark half-undressed and under him.
"Have you ever thought about blowing him?" Jackson asks. Mark gulps. Jackson has dropped his hands to Mark's hip and is mouthing down his chest, occasionally glancing up at Mark. "Are you thinking about it now? Sucking his cock?" Mark shakes his head before he can even think otherwise and Jackson chuckles, "I won't be offended if you are."
He's at the hem of Mark's pants now, the elastic of his boxer briefs peaking out from the loose fabric. Jackson hooks his fingers in not only Mark's pants, but his underwear as well, and tugs until Mark's cock slips out. He's hard and leaking pre-come, which Jackson smears against the head of Mark's dick with his thumb.
"Do you think he's big?" Jackson continues, except now his hand is on Mark's dick and it's hard for Mark to breathe right, "I'd say average. You're big, Mark. Do you think he could swallow all of you? It took me lots of practice before I could. But who knows? Maybe he's already had enough of that."
Mark can't help it, with Jackson running his mouth and running his tight fist up and down his dick, he can't not think about Jinyoung, lips around a cock. His cock. Mark's cock. His cheeks might be flushed, his technique a little sloppy. Mark imagines saliva dripping down his chin and promptly nearly chokes on his own.
Mark can't even look at Jackson, for fear of coming before even Jackson puts his mouth to better use than this, but he can hear Jackson chuckle. "I mean," he says, lips millimetres away from Mark's dick, breath ghosting over the hot skin, "I could help him out, teach him the proper technique," and this is when Jackson decides to finally, finally put his mouth on Mark's dick.
Mark groans, loud enough to make him blush if he wasn't so desperate to come. His fingers find purchase in Jackson's hair, tugging as Jackson swallows him down and then licks a wet stripe back up the length of his dick. He thinks about Jinyoung, again, and how pink his lips look. Mark worries that someone might never have had them stretch around their cock, then thinks about how he could be the first one to do it, maybe, and has to tug Jackson off of his dick, coming in a streak across his cheek and down the curve of his jaw.
Jackson makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat, reaching over the edge of the bed to grab Mark's shirt and wipe his face with it. "Hey," Mark protests. Jackson levels him with a look, one that says you just came on my face, you owe me one, though, and Mark shuts up.
After Jackson is free of any visible mess, though he'll probably have to take a shower later, he sits up and straddles Mark's thighs. He seems determined to take Mark into the shower with him because he pulls his dick out of his jeans, one hand on Mark's chest, and starts to jerk himself off. It doesn't take long for him to come, all of it on one of the softer parts of Mark's stomach. Mark would make another noise of protest, if Jackson didn't look so hot while he did it.
It'd mid-afternoon on a Thursday and they could go out, if they felt like it, but Jackson drops down next to Mark after he calms down and tugs the blanket over himself. He forms a makeshift cocoon and does't leave any for Mark.
Mark thinks maybe they should talk. Maybe he should say something about the fact that he came when he thought of someone who wasn't Jackson sucking his dick. He's not sure how, though. It's not exactly easy to bring up, or a simple conversation to have.
It doesn't seem to matter anyway. Jackson's asleep, breathing steady and on the verge of snoring, and Mark skipped coffee this morning when he woke up late for his 8 AM class, so he thinks it's best to just join him in dream land.
There aren't many parts of Mark's life that make perfect sense. He knows all the basic things, he knows and understands that he is Mark Tuan, how old he is, where he was born, his parents' names, how many siblings he has - but anything really beyond that leaves Mark unsure.
He's unsure bout where he stands with Jackson. Lately, he's entertainted the idea of kissing Jackson without it being just another part of foreplay. Of maybe going out to see a movie that isn't slasher horror and without a good handful of frat brothers. Maybe holding hands. And yet, at the same time, he's not sure Jackson wants any of this himself. Or if he does. Or how to ask.
So, he's unsure.
And he's unsure about his major, Communication and Media Studies, which he's only just started this year. He spent his freshman year of college undeclared and poured all his energy into joining his fraternity and he'll never understand how Jackson managed to do both. Picking a major didn't help him relax at all, though, because on top of quizzes and papers, he's not even sure why he's pursuing this degree. Or what he's going to do with it.
He's also falling his American Film Industry class, so there's that too.
On top of all that, now Park Jinyoung has started showing up everywhere.
Or, maybe after imagining Jinyoung sucking his dick, Mark has just started to notice him more.
He's in Mark's aforementioned American Film Industry class, apparently, which Mark feels a little guilty about not noticing before. To be fair, Mark sits in the very back and Jinyoung sits vaguely middle-front. Mark also spends the majority of that class playing Candy Crush, if he even goes at all, so that could also be to blame. It could also be to blame for the whole failing thing.
Of course, he still sees Jinyoung in the library, on the school grounds. That's all normal, expected.
But there's other things too. Like they go, Mark and Jackson, to the new student bar that opened and Jinyoung is there. Which wouldn't be surprising, if Jinyoung had ever struck Mark as the type to enjoy the bar scene. Mark doesn't even like it much himself. But there Jinyoung is, leaning against the bar and talking to Mark's RA, Jaebum. That must be the mutual friend. Mark doesn't see Jinyoung when he leaves, tipsy with Jackson mouthing at his neck and his arm slung over his shoulder, so Mark assumes he's gone home.
And then again, when Mark hands in a paper and he needs a big ass coffee and a bagel with probably eight hundred pounds of cream cheese, Jinyoung is the one who stands in front of him in line.
Mark is too busy texting Jackson that no, I'm not getting you anything to notice at first but then his eyes leave his phone screen to stare ahead of him. He can recognize Jinyoung by the shape of the back of his head, the cut of his hair. Mark tries to not stare at the nape of his neck, the thin hairs dusted there.
The other night Jackson rubbed their cocks together in the dark and under the covers until they both came, and Mark couldn't stop thinking about grabbing Jinyoung by those hairs he can't keep his eyes off now. Grabbing him by those hairs, forcing him down further onto his cock, his mouth a little further open. Jackson had licked Mark's stomach clean and Mark couldn't stop goosebumps from forming.
Mark keeps thinking about Jinyoung, what his wiry and lithe frame must look like half-naked, the shape of his dick, the warmth of his mouth. He keeps thinking about Jinyoung and he still hasn't spoken to Jackson. He feels worse and worse about it every day.
Mark doesn't realize it's his turn to order until the annoyed looking girl behind the counter pops her gum and clears her throat. Mark's been staring at the empty space in front of him for he's not sure how long, now Jinyoung stands at the other end of the counter, fiddling with his phone and waiting for his drink.
Mark orders quickly and quietly and tells the cashier to keep the change. He's not sure how much exactly that is but with the glare she levels with him once again, he assumes it's not enough for her.
Mark shuffles over to the other side of the counter, the one where Jinyoung stands, one hand in his pocket and the other making swiping motions across the screen of his phone. It becomes painfully clear then that he and Jinyoung have barely exchanged two words with each other in recent history and every time Mark comes to the thought of Jinyoung's mouth and hands and ass, that just gets weirder and weirder.
Now or never.
"Hey," Mark says, too quiet to be heard. He clears his throat and tries again, "Hi," he says again, louder. Jinyoung lifts his head from staring at his phone. "You're in my American Film class, right? Park Jinyoung?"
Jinyoung seems to size Mark up for a second. He looks Mark up and down, brows furrowed just slightly. Then his face softens and Mark knows he's been recognized. "Yeah," he finally says, voice smoother than Mark expected. "You're in Lambda Phi Epsilon, right?" Mark nods at the mention of his fraternity, picking at a thread coming apart from his sweater sleeve. It's not odd for someone to know what fraternity he's in. He even has a patch on his back pack.
"Oh, wait," Jinyoung says and the furrow in his brow returns, "is Jaebum your RA?" Mark nods again and Jinyoung starts laughing, "That's what I thought, you're Mark."
Mark smiles, "What are you laughing about?"
Just then the barista calls out Jinyoung's name and he waves Mark off briefly, scooping his coffee cup off the counter. "Oh, it's just - Jaebum told me lots of stories about you," he explains, dumping spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. "You and your frat bro, what's his name? Jason?"
"Jackson," Mark corrects.
"That's right," Jinyoung says, laughter dying down to light chuckles, "Mark and Jackson."
Mark wonders if Jaebum knows about him and Jackson. They aren't exactly secretive, especially when they drink at parties, but it's not like Mark's facebook status says In A Relationship with Jackson Wang or anything like that. But it's possible Jaebum knows and it's possible that he's told Jinyoung. But what if - what if Jinyoung is laughing about Mark and Jackson because he's in the same situation with Jaebum? What if they're -
"Mark?" The barista calls now.
Mark shuffles over quickly. He takes a sip of his coffee right away, if for nothing but to have something to do with his mouth than blurt out something stupid, and regrets it immediately. It's searing hot and burns his tongue, the roof of his mouth, the fleshy parts of his cheeks. He nearly sputters it all out onto his shirt.
"Whoa," Jinyoung says suddenly, hand on Mark's back, "are you okay?"
Mark nods, finally swallowing down the coffee. "I'm fine. Listen," he deflects quickly. He needs to preserve at least some dignity. "I'm sort of failing our class," he starts, "and I need to catch up somehow." Mark pauses, mouth still hot and uncomfortable. Jinyoung just nods, ready for Mark to continue. "Could we - I don't know, could we meet up and maybe you could let me barrow your notes?"
"I don't know, I ha-"
"Please?" Mark pleads, "I wouldn't be asking if I had any other choice."
Jinyoung gives Mark the same look as before, the one that sizes him up. Mark tucks his hand that's not holding his coffee into his sleeve, a nervous tick he's always had. Jinyoung sighs, "alright," he finally agrees, "I'll meet you at the library on Friday? Is three thirty okay?"
Mark nods quickly, "Yeah, that's fine. Thanks, bro."
Jinyoung waves off Mark's thank you and then says something about needing to get home to study for a quiz, or do his laundry, or maybe he's really just trying to run away from Mark. Regardless, he's out the coffee shop door before Mark can say goodbye and probably thank him again.
When Mark gets back to the room, Jackson is sprawled out on the couch in nothing but boxers playing Mario Kart. Someone behind him hits him with a blue shell and Jackson's Yoshi goes spiralling off a cliff, into the dark abyss below. The game is just about to put him back on the track, fallen down to twelfth place, when Jackson takes the opportunity to pause the game and watch Mark come take a seat beside him on the couch.
"These are mine," Mark says, pulling the elastic of the baby blue boxer shorts tight and then letting it go so it slaps against Jackson's bare skin. Jackson flinches when Mark lets it go, then smacks his hand away.
"I haven't done laundry in awhile," Jackson shrugs. Mark's facial expression turns to disgust.
Jackson goes back to playing after that, somehow worming his way back into first place. Mark has to work himself up to say it but somehow, he manages to say, "so, I'm meeting up with Jinyoung on Friday."
"Hmm?" Jackson hums, maneuvering around a grassy field that would slow his rider down. "What did you say?"
"The library," Mark repeats, "on Friday."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jackson dismisses, "I know all about that, whatever. What was the other part?"
Mark's mouth flattens into a line. "Jinyoung is letting me copy his notes. Park Jinyoung?"
Jackson's eyebrow raises. "Oh yeah?"
That night, Jackson bites at Mark's thighs and licks the tight skin stretched over his hip bones. He digs his thumbs into Mark's ribs and sucks him down until Mark is just there, the very edge and then he pulls off with wet pop. "Can I fuck you?" Jackson asks.
This wouldn't be the first time, but they don't do this often. It's mostly just hurried blowjobs, sloppy handjobs, the occasional dry-humping until they come all over each other's thighs. Sometimes Jackson fingers Mark, but that's the closest they get on a regular basis. Only once and awhile do they fuck.
"Yes," Mark replies, "Yes, do it. Please."
As soon as he hears the words, Jackson is fiddling below the bed, pulling a stash of condoms and lube from underneath it. Mark watches him, breathing slow, watching in his peripheral as his chest rises and falls while Jackson uses his free hand to touch, just slightly, over Mark's dick.
Jackson spreads a dollop of lube across his fingers and then he's leaning over Mark's chest, sucking one of his nipples into his mouth wetly while he slowly pushes one finger inside of Mark. Mark tenses, for just a second, before he remembers to breathe and lets himself relax. Jackson is slow, thorough, he crooks his fingers inside of Mark and makes him gasps, before inserting a second finger, a third.
It feels like forever, minutes and hours and hours, before Jackson is lining himself up to slide inside Mark. Mark feels damp with sweat all over, his chest wet with saliva from where Jackson was leaving open mouthed kisses and biting gently at his nipples. Jackson places his hands on either side of Mark's head, just above Mark's shoulders, and gives these, shallow, long thrusts that have Mark panting. "God," he breathes out.
"No, just Jackson," is the reply he barely hears. If he could find some way to smack Jackson across the head right now, he would. But then Jackson pulls nearly all the way out and gives the same long, shallow thrust and Mark thinks he could forgive him.
"Do you want to fuck Jinyoung?" Jackson says, his mouth right by Mark's ear. He's whispering, between sporadic grunts when he thrusts inside of Mark. Mark moans, which must be enough for Jackson to continue. "What if Jinyoung fucked you?" Jackson says now, "do you want that? His dick in you, fucking you? Kind of like this?"
Jackson hasn't done this since the first time, talked Mark through it. Lately Mark's own imagination has been all the work just fine on it's own. Now, though, with the way Jackson is fucking into him and the way Jackson is talking to him, Mark feels like his senses are on fire. Everything is heightened, he doesn't know what to do, all he does is let out another groan.
"I can't guarantee he'd be as good as me," Jackson continues, "but I think he'd fuck you good. Who couldn't, when you look like this, sound like this, when you get fucked?" Jackson moves his hand to wrap around Mark's dick and Mark isn't sure how he's still breathing, with the brutal pace Jackson is fucking - and now jerking his dick off. "How about this," Jackson bites Mark's earlobe, "what if I fucked him into you? Him fucking you and then me behind him, fucking him into you? Would you like that, Mark? I think you would,"
Mark can't stop it, there is no way he could hold himself back from coming now. He nearly screams but suppresses himself by biting his lip and just ends up letting out the most primal sounding moan. He goes limp after, fucked out and warm and covered in his own come, and lets Jackson fuck him to his own orgasm.
Jackson pulls out eventually, Mark doesn't notice when, and ties off the condom that Mark didn't even notice him put on either. He kisses Mark after that, leaning over him and cupping his jaw. The kissing helps Mark relax even more, until he feels like all this and the heat is going to make him melt into the mattress.
He must fall asleep like that because the next time he opens his eyes, the very first signs of dawn are creeping up through the window, and Jackson is fast asleep beside him in bed. He feels sticky and stinky and he needs a shower. Mark runs a hand through his hair and then, suddenly, the weight of the previous night hits him.
He needs to talk to Jackson about this. About everything. About what they are, where they stand. He needs to know why Jackson still wants to fuck him when he obviously knows Mark keeps thinking about hot first year, sexy literature major, decidedly not Jackson, Park Jinyoung.
Mark moves quietly out of bed to the shower, knowing he won't get much sleep after this. His legs are weak and his head is swimming, which has him gripping the wall all the way to the communal bathroom. He spends a lot of time just sitting under the hottest spray, letting the water beat down on him until his skin turns bright red.
He doesn't know what to do, or what to say. He's so confused. He thinks - he still wants Jackson, right? Mark wouldn't keep fooling around with him if he didn't, right? But. But Mark likes Jinyoung, probably a lot. And probably in a way that goes beyond having Jinyoung suck his dick. But.
But he also might feel that way about Jackson.
Mark feels like crying.
When he goes back to the room, Jackson is awake, shoving a cold Pop-Tart into his mouth. "Do you want a blowie before class?" He offers. Mark shakes his head.
"Um," Mark begins, towel drying at his hair. "About last night?"
Jackson is pulling on socks but when Mark speaks, he turns to look up at him. He's got the Pop-Tart hanging out of his mouth, crumbs dropping onto his day old jeans. "What?" he says around the giant slab of what might as well be chocolate.
Jackson is looking at him so blankly, he's blinking at Mark like nothing important happened. It makes Mark loose his nerve and he just waves Jackson off, "nevermind," he says, "I'll tell you later."
Jackson doesn't look convinced but he doesn't say anything else, just disgustingly sucks the rest of his Pop-Tart into his mouth. "So, since you don't want a blowie and I'm the one who woke up with morning wood five minutes ago, how about you jerk me off?"
Mark doesn't mean to dress up to meet Jinyoung on Friday, but Jackson scoffs when he sees Mark leave the house that morning, so he must somehow do it by accident. His sweater has a high collar, too, so it hides the hickey Jackson left on him. Mark's not sure if he did that on purpose or not either.
The library is relatively quiet. There is the usual quiet chatter, the scratching of pens on paper, a few people are typing on laptops. A group of girls all with matching high buns and all wearing loose cardigans have taken Mark's usual table, but Jinyoung is already sitting at the one three behind it. The same one Mark saw him in the other day.
"Hey," Mark says quietly, sitting across from Jinyoung. Jinyoung says nothing but looks up from his notebook to acknowledge Mark has arrived. He fishes into his messenger bag without a word either, and pulls out a second notebook. Across the front in big block letters it says AMERICAN FILM INDUSTRY and underneath is the day of the week and the time the class usual takes place.
"I've got to work on this stuff for another class," Jinyoung explains, "but everything's in there. It's all dated, so it should be easy to find what you're looking for. If you have any questions you can ask me, I guess."
Mark nods along to everything Jinyoung is saying and then once the other boy has turned back to his small, tight writing in his own notebook, Mark flips open the one Jinyoung had handed him. It's filled with the same writing, neat and highlighted and evenly spaced. Every single page is dated, just like Jinyoung said they would be. It's very intimidating, Mark finds, to see someone in control and organized with their life. Mark is not in the slightest, and one glance at their shared dorm and you can tell Jackson isn't either.
Mark works in silence for a bit. He sort of wishes Jinyoung would talk to him because he'd be lying if Mark said that wasn't one of the reasons he asked Jinyoung to help him out in the first place. Mark is surprised he can even look Jinyoung in the eyes after what happened last night.
But Jinyoung doesn't look like he wants to do any talking. He's biting his lip, face scrunched up. Every once and a while he leans on his hand and bites the fingernails on his other, before something, an idea or a thought, strikes him and then he continues writing. Mark tries not to sigh outwardly. He doesn't study alone often, mostly with Jackson, and when he and Jackson study it's nothing like this.
"Um," Mark clears his throat. He's decided if he wants to talk to Jinyoung, he's going to need more effort and a new environment. "My, uh, LFE is having a party tomorrow, do you want to come?"
Jinyoung's face had softened from it's hard lines when Mark had first gotten his attention, but now it's incredulous. Jinyoung has one eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth are downturned. "A frat party?"
"Well, yeah, I guess." Mark almost wants to smack himself. "I mean, they aren't as bad as everyone makes them sound and I can," Mark stumbles, tries again, "I can make sure they know you're coming? I'll tell them and they'll let you in."
Jinyoung sits up straight from leaning over his notebook and then slinks down in his chair. There is a moment of silence, that stretches longer than Mark would like. He's positive Jinyoung's about to say no when he opens his mouth, but instead he says, "sure," and then he says, "sounds cool."
"Cool," Mark repeats.
He decides not to tell Jackson.
Jinyoung doesn't show up an hour into the party, or two, or three. Mark drinks a beer for every hour that Jinyoung is late but now he's halfway through his fourth. At the beginning of the night, Jackson had spent some time trying to grind on him, sort of a joke but sort of not, until Mark had volunteered Jackson as the next person who wanted to funnel beer. Mark last saw him upside down, beer nozzle in his mouth, hands gripping the edges of a keg.
Mark takes a swig of his beer and realizes two things. He's a) been drinking on an empty stomach and b) has now finished said beer. He decides, a little wobbly and buzzing beneath his skin, that he should try and find snacks. And maybe another beer. Maybe.
Mark shuffles through the crowd of people. Some of them are dancing, some of them are making out and spilling drinks down the back of each other's shirts. The frat is packed and someone's turned on house music with the bass loud enough that Mark can see the ceiling tiles shake. He's wearing a beanie and it's starting to make him sweat.
Somehow, Mark finds the lounge room, where there are bowls full of ice and full of beer. Or, half-full now that it's past time. Someone is going to have to go on a beer run soon. There's a bowl of pretzels on the counter, and even more strewn about crushed around it. Mark can't help it, he feels his stomach rumble just at the sight, and sticks his hand in to grab a large amount. He finishes every last one faster than he'd ever admit and afterwards, decided the fifth beer was deserved.
Maybe a few shots? This blonde girl who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere was offering. Mark also doesn't feel like turning down the brunette who's offering him a sip of her Jaegermeister.
He grabs another handful of pretzels.
Mark is drunk, stumbling and fuzzy-eyed drunk, when Jinyoung finally gets there. Jinyoung finds him out on the back porch, sprawled across the wood panelling with his shirt hiked up. "Hi," Jinyoung says. He seems slightly awkward, but it's not obvious for Mark to notice in this state.
"Oh, Jinyoung," Mark sits up, "hi? How's it going, you're late," he pouts.
"Sorry," Jinyoung lifts his arms to scratch behind his neck. He sits on a wooden swing that they have on the back porch, just close enough to where Mark sits on the floor. Mark leans forward so he can rest his chin on the outside of Jinyoung's thigh. "I had stuff to do,"
Mark shakes his head, "no, it's okay," he slurs, "don't worry about it."
They sit like that for a bit. There's a little bit of wind, it ruffles the bits of Mark's bangs that peak out from under his beanie and make the swing move ever so slightly. Mark sighs contentedly, still leant against Jinyoung. "What are you doing out here?" Jinyoung asks.
"Too hot in there," Mark nods to inside the house. Jinyoung nods back slow, as if to convey to Mark that he understands what he means.
"Are you feeling okay?" Jinyoung asks next, "you look really wasted, I can go get Jackson?"
Mark shakes his head and plants his hand firmly over where Jinyoung is resting his on the swing. It's not hard enough to hurt, or even really keep Jinyoung there, but Mark hopes he won't move anyway. "No, no, no," he insists, "just stay here, look I'm fine,"
Mark stands and promptly nearly stumbles off the back porch steps. Luckily, Jinyoung grabs him by the wrist, pulling him back onto his own two feet gently. He overshoots just a little or maybe Mark is just too wasted and Mark ends up ungracefully falling on the seat beside Jinyoung.
Jinyoung looks at him incredulously after that. Mark can't help it - he laughs. Jinyoung laughs with him and for a moment, nothing seems to complicated. The house is playing music behind them but it's dark and quiet and cool outside, except for them.
Then Mark realizes Jinyoung's fingers are still circled around his wrist, holding gently, the pads of his fingers up against Mark's pulse point. Mark swallows. He worries Jinyoung can feel his heartbeat, maybe just a second faster, through that point in his wrist. They lull into silence and Jinyoung doesn't let go of his wrist, holds onto it. Mark isn't sure if it's just because he's afraid Mark will slide off the swing but it doesn't matter. It's nice.
And then, it's so nice, Mark has to lean forward and press his lips to Jinyoung's.
There is a split second where Jinyoung startles and moves back a little bit, but Mark just pushes forward and the kiss stays unbroken. Jinyoung's mouth is soft and pliable, like Mark imagined. It's also warm, like the fingers around his wrist and when Jinyoung finally stills and kisses Mark back, Mark wants to sink right into him.
They kiss, for awhile. Short or long, Mark can't tell. It's just when he's about to move his hands to hold Jinyoung's sides that he hears a voice. A voice in the back of his head that sounds just like Jackson and it's saying, do you want to fuck Jinyoung?
It startles Mark so much he pulls back fiercely from the kiss, leaving Jinyoung looking at him confused. Mark shakes his head, wipes off his wet mouth, "I -," he starts, but he can't think of an excuse to get away. "I- I'll be right back."
"Okay," Jinyoung replies. Mark tries to pretend like he didn't hear any disappointment in Jinyoung's voice.
Mark pushes his way back into the house, which is considerably difficult with all the people blocking the back door. Half way across the first floor of the house and no idea where he's going, Mark decides he'll go upstairs to pee. How he climbs the stairs is a mystery, one he's not even sure how to solve himself, but somehow it happens. He's not even on the second floor landing for five minutes before Jackson spots him.
"Where have you been?" Jackson asks. He's not as drunk as Mark, but he's drunk enough to be wrapped around him quickly, mouth on his neck. "I looked all over for you."
Mark is about to ask why when Jackson takes Mark's hand and pushes against the crotch of his jeans, the zipper digging into the flesh of Mark's palm and oh, he gets it. Jackson hums as he sees the realization cross Mark's face and then he says, "kiss me," so Mark does.
Jackson's kiss is wet and intense, fast and rough, and he rakes his fingers through Mark's hair, sending his beanie tumbling to the floor below. It's different from the kiss with Jinyoung, Mark realizes. Then the reality of the situation hits him and starts to gnaw at his stomach. He had just stopped kissing Jinyoung to come inside and run away from him, from what he had just done, from kissing and now here he is, inside, kissing Jackson.
Mark doesn't want to run away from Jackson, though, because kissing Jackson is familiar. It's the same as it's always been. Except.
He just kissed Jinyoung.
And as if on cue, a throat clears and Mark jumps away from Jackson to find Jinyoung standing behind him, looking even more awkward than he did when he first arrived. Mark's mouth drops open, to try and explain, only Mark realized he doesn't know how. His mouth hangs open lamely for a few seconds, before he closes it slowly.
The silence stretches, and the air in the room feels electrically charged. Or on fire. Or maybe Mark's just too hot and too drunk and he wants to throw up and go to bed and pretend like this never happened. He doesn't want to kiss anyone again, only he wants to suck Jinyoung's dick, apparently. And he's already sucked Jackson's. But he doesn't want to kiss anyone again.
He wants to throw up.
"Shit, sorry," Mark manages before he's off the landing, down the stairs, and doing just that onto the front lawn. It's horrible, what with the fact that the only thing Mark has in his stomach to empty is alcohol and pretzels. It's still cold outside and where that felt nice before, Mark is just reminded of the goose bumps on Jinyoung's skin when they kissed.
He'd vomit again if he could.
Mark is in the library, the usual table, with a headache weighing him down so much he has to rest his forehead on the table. The table is cool and it feels nice against the pounding inside his skull. He doesn't want to study and, truthfully, he doesn't need to. He couldn't think of anywhere else to go after he woke up this morning at 6 AM to vomit again while trying to not wake Jackson in the bed across from his.
Last night, Mark had somehow managed to get to his room without being caught by Jackson and Jinyoung, and had pretended to be fast asleep when Jackson came to go to bed himself. He didn't feel like talking, or looking at Jackson, or looking at Jackson looking at him.
Mark doesn't know what he did want from Jackson, or from anyone, and that was the problem was in the first place, wasn't it?
Mark had pulled on sweat pants and a hoodie as quickly and quietly as he could when he stood up from the toilet, and left the room as fast as possible. And the frat house. And he didn't feel like being anywhere anyone would be after a Saturday night on a college campus with fraternities. And so, the library.
Which, apparently, wasn't a good choice after all.
"Is this seat taken?" a voice from above Mark says. He groans, as he recognizes it right away. It's Jinyoung.
Mark peeks up from the table, "No," he replies. Mark doesn't know what else to say.
Jinyoung sits down. He doesn't look nearly as mangled as Mark does but Mark supposes Jinyoung drank a lot less and probably got more sleep. "hey," He says quietly. Mark catches his eye and sees Jinyoung bite his lip. "How are you feeling?"
Mark just groans, "look, I'm -"
"I just don't get it," Jinyoung cuts him off. "I don't get why - you kissed me, at the, at the party and then -"
"Jinyoung," Mark says curtly, "I'm - me and Jackson? And you - you and me? The whole thing's confusing me and I know just about as much as you about this whole mess and I don't get it and I'm sorry I lead you on dragged you into this, okay? I'm sorry."
Please don't hate me.
"Why did you do it?" Jinyoung asks. Mark's hands feel clammy, a wet heat. He lifts his head slowly, rests it on folded arms. Jinyoung avoids his gaze. "At the party, why did you kiss me?"
Mark sighs. "I like you. I thought you were - I liked you and I was drunk and I wanted you to like me too, okay? I liked you for awhile and you didn't even really notice so I didn't know what else to do and -"
Mark never has the chance to finish. Jinyoung grabs him by the collar of his hoodie, hauls him up and a little bit over the library table, and kisses him. It's messier than the last time, somehow, maybe the odd-positioning and the way it was sprung on Mark makes him sloppy. It's thorough though, Jinyoung kisses like this is the only chance he has to prove something to Mark. Mark's mind is too foggy, his headache is pounding to hard in his head and his chest for him to understand what that is.
Jinyoung pulls back and Mark chases his lips, only a slight bit, before Jinyoung is able to hold him back. "Do you want to fuck me?" He asks. Only all Mark can hear is Jackson's voice, saying the same thing.
"What?" Mark is breathless and he's lightheaded and there is no way he just heard what he did.
"Mark," Jinyoung's voice is firm and the kiss he places on the very side of Mark's mouth is firm as well, "I'll let you fuck me, do you want to?"
"Yeah, Mark, don't you want to fuck him?"
Mark springs away from Jinyoung, knocking over the library chair in the process. Standing behind Jinyoung, brought out from behind a book case, is Jackson. His hair is slicked back and his face is blank. "How long have you been there?" Mark asks, panicked.
"It's okay," someone says and Mark is surprised when he realizes it's Jinyoung. Jinyoung stands calmly, taking a spot not beside, but not far from where Jackson stands. Mark feels scrutinized as both their eyes rest solely on him. "It's fine, Mark."
"What?" Mark sputters, "I don't - I don't understand."
"You like me, right?" Jackson asks. Mark's eyes dart, just for a moment, to Jinyoung but he doesn't look fazed.
"Yes," Mark replies. It sounds so foreign, so awkward, to acknowledge that there might be something real and established and true between him and Jackson. He doesn't dislike it, though. It's just odd.
And then Jackson says, "And you like Jinyoung?"
"I - "
"Now's not the time to be shy, Mark," Jackson reminds him quickly, "you did spend two weeks thinking about his mouth and ass every time I even touched your dick."
Mark blushes and he turns to Jinyoung, who looks a little pink but otherwise not scandalized by the whole thing. He pauses for one beat, two, before he says, "yeah, okay. I like him."
"We like you too," Jinyoung replies. Jackson makes various retching noises. Jinyoung turns to look at him, face scrunched up in annoyance. "he's gonna have to grow on me," He gestures to Jackson.
"You're alright," Jackson says in return, "you're hot, I'll admit. I'd probably fuck you."
"Wait, wait, wait," Mark put his hands out in front of him. Both Jinyoung and Jackson turned from each other to look back at Mark. "I still don't - I still don't really understand."
"I knew you liked him," Jackson starts, "okay, well, at first all I knew is you wanted to fuck him. And I thought that was hot - not that you wanted to fuck him but the way it turned you on so much and maybe I thought about watching and that was hot anyway - that's why I always talked it up like I did. And then, time went on, and I realized you actually fucking liked him. Like liked him," Mark has to avoid Jinyoung's gaze as Jackson talks. He was probably that obvious, but he would rather not acknowledge that he was. "And at first I was pissed because, well, because you were with me. Kind of. We should have talked about it, whatever. But then I wasn't pissed because - well, you're my friend and I like you and it's kind of important to me that you're happy so I -"
"He told me," Jinyoung takes over now. "He told me you liked me. The Thursday, the day after you asked for my help with class he told me and I - I thought you were hot and I kind of liked you too. I didn't even think you knew who I was? When you talked to me at the coffee place that was kind of crazy, and then you invited me to that party. So I told Jackson and he said - he said we should tell you it's okay if you like both of us," Jinyoung chuckles to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face. "That we could do that, if you wanted to. But you kissed me before I had a chance to talk to Jackson and then afterwards he texted me told me to just meet you guys upstairs but you guys were -" Jinyoung looks quickly between the two, "yeah. And then you freaked out and left."
"I don't," Mark stuttered, "what is this supposed to mean?"
"It means," Jackson huffs, "that we tried to set-up, I don't know, some weird committed three-way shit that doesn't even happen in real life except it does. Which is weird, but whatever, dude. We can all do this together if you want," Jackson gestures with his hand, a circle that reaches himself, Mark and Jinyoung, "or we can not. But you like him a lot and he likes you too and obviously, so do I. But it's up to you. If it's just this kid," he points his thumb at Jinyoung, "then, okay, I guess. That's that."
"And what if it's - what if I want - both?"
Jinyoung is the one who speaks now, "Then we'll figure something out."
Mark's American Film Industry professor, is sort of understanding. And also sort of evil. Sure, he lets Mark do make up work, but it's also harder than Mark thinks any paper that year could have been. And he also makes Mark complete all said make up work after exams are over. Which means he misses parties, late night celebration dinners, and apparently the moment after he handed in his final make up work to his professor, Jackson and Jinyoung decided to start making out.
Mark opens the door to his room, which is already half-packed to go home for the summer, and Jackson is straddling Jinyoung's hips, working on his buttons, kissing his chest. By the time Mark closes the door beside him, Jinyoung's shirt has bunched up behind him on the couch cushion.
In this moment, if Mark wanted to tease, he could say it didn't take Jinyoung long to warm up to Jackson at all, but it's hard for Mark to think past the tent in his jeans.
He's not sure if Jinyoung heard him come in, but Jackson definitely did. Mark can tell in how purposeful Jackson is unbuckling Jinyoung's jeans, Mark knows it's calculated the way Jackson reaches his hand into Jinyoung's boxers and pulls out his cock, giving it a few quick strokes. Because that's the kind of shit Jackson is.
"Oh my god," Mark and Jinyoung say in unison. If Jinyoung didn't know Mark had come home before, he knows now. His head has fallen back against the couch slightly, so it's Jackson that turns to Mark and levels him with a playful look. He chuckles when Mark tugs down his own pants, which has Jinyoung opening his eyes to witness Mark disrobing as well.
"Come here," Jinyoung breaths.
Jackson stands to pull off his own pants, his shirt discarded before Mark got here, and Jinyoung slides his own slacks down the long length of his legs. Mark moves as if to pulls off shirt, standing in front of Jinyoung, but Jinyoung swats his hands away and grabs the hem himself. Jackson helps him pull it all the way off, and then Jinyoung's mouth is on his hip bones, and Jackson's is on the curve of his shoulder, and Mark finally passed his stupid class, and the moan he lets out has never been more satisfying.
It takes some maneuvering and time and Mark nearly face plants into the floor at one point, but they've gotten better in the months since this all began, and eventually Jinyoung is laying underneath Mark, who is on his hands and knees. They're kissing, Jinyoung's hands cupping Mark's head, fingers on the skin behind Mark's ears.
Jackson clears his throat, from his position behind Mark, up on his knees.
"We haven't forgotten about you," Jinyoung says placatingly, looking at Jackson from over Mark's shoulder. Mark can't keep himself from laughing into Jinyoung's neck. Jackson leant over and sunk his teeth into Mark's shoulder, some form of revenge.
And then there's more kissing, more touching, more breathy moaning and soft sounds and then Mark is hard, so hard it might start to hurt soon, and no one has even given his dick a second glance. It's bad enough that he thinks he's delirious when Jinyoung says in his ear, "are you gonna fuck me?"
Mark's breath catches, but then Jackson is pressing lube and a condom into his hand, and this must be real but Mark isn't sure how. When did this happen? Jinyoung blushing up at him and looking like he's about to bat his eyelashes, covered in two sets of teeth Mark's, warmed by two body heats. How did Mark get here?
Mark learned, these past few months, and so did Jackson, that Jinyoung is responsive. Where Mark looses himself and Jackson is more self-conscious than usually humanly possible during sex, Jinyoung reacts to everything. He makes a sharp intake of breath when Mark's cold, lube-wet hands brush against his thighs, he bites his lip when Mark's fingers circle his hole and then he lets out a loud groan when Mark finally starts to finger him.
Mark tries to be thorough, thorough and fast, somehow, but the task is made even more difficult by the wet open-mouthed kisses Jackson is placing along his back. Jackson also keeps rubbing his thumb back and forth over Mark's nipples, which isn't helpful either.
In the end it's Jinyoung who manages somehow, gasping, to tell Mark that he's as ready as he'll ever be, and then Mark is sinking into him. It's slow and hot and even Jackson is moaning, at the noises Mark is making or at the blissed face Jinyoung is making or maybe both. He lets a rhythm get worked up, for Mark to settle into a pace, and then he's spreading the lube over his own fingers and starting to stretch Mark open.
Mark is surprised when he feels the first press of Jackson's fingers. It only takes him a split second to understand what's about to happen and the promise of the near future makes him sigh, "fuck," and nearly falter in the rhythm he's fucking Jinyoung in.
When Jackson is pressing into Mark in return, when Mark is being clenched around and clenching around Jackson, when he feels like he might scream, Jackson says, "I always knew you wanted this, I knew months ago," and then Mark does scream.
The three of them fumble and so it takes a moment to get the flow back, but somehow they do it. And then that's it, Jackson is fucking Mark into Jinyoung and it's quiet possibly the hottest thing that's ever happened to Mark. He doesn't know how he hasn't burst into flames yet.
Jackson puts a hand on Mark's hip. It's circled around the bone tight, guiding Mark with his own pace. He reaches his other hand around after it, and wraps it around Jinyoung's dick. "Shit, oh my god," Jinyoung gasps.
Mark isn't sure how long they last but he can't imagine it's very long. He'd be embarrassed about coming first, but he was the filling in a Jinyoung and Jackson sandwich so fuck it, he's going to come first. And Mark's not sure he's come so hard before in his life. Not since Jackson used to whisper filthy shit about Jinyoung in his ear with his hands on Mark's dick, not since that night Jackson and Jinyoung both took turns licking at Mark's dick and pushing one, two, three fingers inside him until Mark was nearly crying.
Mark would be limp now, after his orgasm hit him, if Jackson wasn't still thrusting into him and subsequently thrusting Mark into Jinyoung. Jinyoung comes next, with a shout and a splatter of come across his lower stomach. Mark runs his finger through it and then sticks the finger in his mouth. Jinyoung looks at him with blown-out eyes, panting, before hauling Mark forward by the back of the neck and kissing him. And then Jackson is following with his own orgasm.
After Jackson pulls out of Mark and Mark out of Jinyoung, Mark rolls boneless off the couch and onto the floor. It's colder down there, and Mark's so hot and his legs and his ass are so sore. He watches from down there, laying and breathing heavy on the floor, as Jackson licks at the remaining come on Jinyoung's stomach. Jinyoung is running a hand through Jackson's hair.
"Hey," Mark says, "You guys wanna order pizza?"
The two others agree.