Chapter Text
Parties aren’t really Jinyoung’s thing. If given a choice, he would much rather stay home and read or study, much to Jaebum’s dismay. However, even his best friend’s frequent accusations that Jinyoung is basically the most boring person he knows isn’t enough to motivate Jinyoung to leave the quiet of the library or the relative peace and safety of his privileged single dorm for anything less than special occasions. The only reason Jinyoung is currently surrounded by loud music and drunk university students is because Jaebum had practically begged him to come along as their designated driver. Not that they really needed one since the party was only on the other side of campus, but Youngjae had joined the pleading, and Jinyoung has a massive weak spot for the younger boy that he would probably be more ashamed of if it wasn’t a weakness also shared by 99.9% of the people Youngjae has met. In any case, it’s thanks to Youngjae’s unresistible puppy eyes that Jinyoung now finds himself sitting on a dingy couch in the emptiest corner of Jackson’s frat house, trying to lose himself in a book and tune out chaos of people yelling over the blaring speakers while he waits for Jaebum and Youngjae to come find him and let him escape back to his room.
“Jinyoungie!”
Perking up at the sound of his name, Jinyoung searches the room in hopes of seeing Jaebum stumbling drunkenly towards him with Youngjae in tow, but instead it’s Jackson pushing his way through the groups of students, and Jinyoung tries to muster up a smile that makes him look at least a little more willing to be there, considering Jackson’s one of the party’s hosts. The smile drops quickly though when he notices the head of light brown hair resting on Jackson’s shoulder a moment before a tangle of slender limbs and baggy fabric is dumped gracelessly onto the cushions next to him in a burst of high, lilting giggles.
“Um–”
“Jinyoung! I’m glad you’re here!” Cutting Jinyoung off, Jackson beams at him like he didn’t just dump a giggling mess of human and oversized sweater practically into Jinyoung’s lap. “I have a favor to ask you! You’re sober, right?” He barely waits for Jinyoung’s nod before continuing with another bright smile. “Great! Can you keep an eye on Mark–Mark-hyung, you know, my roommate, the one from America–for me? I’m supposed to be supervising a beer pong game, but I can’t leave Mark-hyung unattended when he’s drunk or else he gets into trouble.” Pausing in his tirade of words, Jackson gives Mark a look that’s so sickeningly fond that Jinyoung has to consciously suppress the urge to grimace, glancing down at where the lump of tan wool, brown hair, and limbs–Mark–is wiggling around in what might be an attempt to roll over. “He just needs to be kept from drinking himself into a coma. Or accidentally setting the house on fire. You can keep an eye on him, right?”
It takes Jinyoung a moment to realize that Jackson is actually waiting for his response this time, and he pulls his gaze from Mark’s struggles to find Jackson looking at him with the same earnest expression that dragged Jinyoung to his last party. Where, come to think of it, he’d also had a drunk person dumped on him, though at least Bambam was someone he actually knew as more than a friend of a friend.
Thinking back to Bambam’s treatment of tabletops like dance floors and deciding that polite excuses are probably in his best interest if he hopes to avoid another drunk-sitting fiasco, Jinyoung plasters on his best apologetic smile. “I really don’t think I can, Jackson. I’m just waiting on Jaebum-hyung and Youngjae, and then I’m driving them–”
“But Jaebum-hyung and Youngjae already left!” Jackson jerks his thumb over his shoulder, and Jinyoung blinks, looking past him like there’s some kind of actual explanation there and not just a milling crowd of clueless partiers.
“Both of them? But neither of them said anything…” Fumbling for his phone, Jinyoung frowns at the lack of messages, and navigates to Jaebum’s contact info, already fuming at being ditched without a word.
“They both looked pretty busy when I saw them.”
The waggle of Jackson’s eyebrows tells Jinyoung enough, and he stops before hitting the call button, wrinkling his nose at just the idea of his best friend or proclaimed younger brother in compromising situations. He’ll deal with their rude abandonment at some point when he’s not likely to catch a hint of whatever–or whomever–either of them are doing right now, but the realization of being left behind by two of his closest friends isn't putting him in any more of a mood to be used for a favor by a third. Besides, he can feel that brown hair rubbing against his thigh as the guy finally manages to turn on his side, facing out into the room, and one of his main reasons for skipping most parties is to avoid having random people touching him.
Shoving his phone back into his pocket with more force than necessary, Jinyoung reaches for the jacket he’d thrown over the arm of the sofa. “Fine, then that means I can go home too. Besides, I didn’t really come here to keep an eye on some random stranger.”
“But Mark’s not a stranger...”
Catching the look of confusion on Jackson’s face a moment before Mark finally rolls onto his back, the vague familiarity of the name clicks into place as the boy blinks dazedly up at him because he does actually recognize those wide eyes, pink lips, and delicate features, even if he’d forgotten the name of their owner. His jacket slips out of his grip to dangle towards the floor again.
“Oh.”
Apparently, Jinyoung isn’t the only one caught off guard by sudden recognition because the guy’s mouth gets stuck on the shape of the word, leaving him gaping, and it takes Jackson’s loud clap to break their stares as an awkward moment of silence stretches between them. Narrowing his eyes to cover how inexplicably flustered this sudden reintroduction has made him, Jinyoung switches to glaring at Jackson instead as Mark startles and jostles his leg once more.
“There! See! You do know each other!” Not looking the slightest bit bothered by the deepening of Jinyoung’s glare, Jackson tosses him a water bottle that Jinyoung hadn’t noticed him holding. “This is for Mark–make sure you drink it, hyung! Make sure he drinks it, Jinyoung–and I’ll find you guys after the games are over. Have fun!”
With that, Jackson takes off, swallowed by the milling groups of students before his words have fully sunk in, and Jinyoung is left to glare vaguely around the room after him, cursing him mentally and hoping that Jackson will feel the heat of his irritation even from a distance. He’s not sure it works, but he startles a girl who makes eye contact with him enough that she drops her cup, so he considers it a success of sorts.
“Hi.”
Mark’s light voice interrupts his mental ranting, but his tentative smile fades when Jinyoung’s glare lands on him in turn, wide eyes widening even further, and Jinyoung feels another flicker of irritation at Jackson as he decides–a bit guiltily–that it isn't fair to take out his flustered annoyance on Mark just because he was dumped there. The discomfort in Mark’s expression as he stares up at him makes it obvious that he wasn’t expecting to be left like this either, and Jinyoung tries to smooth out his features, taking a calming breath.
“Hello.”
At Jinyoung’s even tone, the crease between Mark’s eyebrows eases, and he returns to blinking those round eyes up at him. Taking in how dazed he still looks, Jinyoung wonders just how drunk the guy really is and what he’s going to have to deal with until Jackson’s return. The first time Youngjae had gotten completely wasted, he had pillowed his head in Jinyoung’s lap and periodically asked him, “why are you upside down, hyung?” for twenty minutes before rushing off to lose his dinner, but considering the fact that he had also asked Jinyoung the same question more than once after a late night studying, Mark staring like Jinyoung’s head is on backwards could be mean he’s anywhere from tipsy and ready to put Jinyoung through a sequel to Bambam’s drunk recital to the verge of passing out in an alcohol-induced coma.
After another long moment of silence and awkward eye contact though, Jinyoung decides that blank staring isn’t really going to tell him much more about Mark’s condition and looks away, trying to ignore the flustered discomfort prickling along his spine. Shifting a little closer to the arm of the couch, he lifts his book again and tries to focus on that instead. It’s mostly an excuse to avoid looking at Mark, even if he can still feel the other’s eyes on him, and he feels another niggle of guilt for so obviously ignoring him as he struggles to get back into the flow of the story because it’s not as if he particularly minds Mark himself, but their brief introduction at the start of the school year didn’t really prepared Jinyoung for trying to entertain him. Especially when Jinyoung is busy trying to pretend that his recognition of Mark doesn’t come as much from that meeting as it does from the secretive staring he’s been doing when he's caught sight of the other boy’s–excessively pretty–face over the past seven months, and Mark is drunk and apparently entertained enough by his own, less secretive staring at Jinyoung. Jackson only asked Jinyoung to keep Mark out of trouble anyway, and he can do that just as well while reading and avoiding making contact with those wide eyes and delicate features.
Forcing himself to not think about the fact that the subject of more than a couple vague daydreams over the last semester and a half is currently laying next to him and under his supervision, Jinyoung's gotten about a page and a half further in his book before Mark stirs, and he resolutely avoids looking down when Mark’s shifting shoves the top of his head into Jinyoung’s thigh. Concentrating on the words in front of him and not the brush of soft hair against his khakis, he flips the page, then freezes when a slender finger appears between him and the novel, smoothing the turned page into place.
Risking a glance, he finds that Mark’s attention has shifted to the book, a small smile tugging at his lips as he runs his finger over the text.
“Hangul is so pretty.” With Mark’s soft voice barely louder than a whisper, Jinyoung has to focus to hear it over all the noise, and he watches Mark’s smile fade, eyebrows pulling together as he runs his finger over the print again. “But it's still so hard to read in Korean.”
Their eyes meet when Mark suddenly rolls his head back up, and Jinyoung feels a slight rush of embarrassment at being caught staring, even if Mark seems oblivious to any fresh awkwardness, blinking slowly as his lips push out in a small, pink pout.
“I miss reading.”
Distracted by Mark’s sudden confession and his pitiful expression, it takes Jinyoung a moment to realize that Mark seems to be waiting for some kind of reply, and he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “You like reading?”
Wincing when the question comes out sounding almost rudely surprised, Jinyoung silently curses the lack of tact he seems to have around the other boy, but Mark doesn’t seem offended, humming softly as his gaze flicks back to the book.
“Yes.” His fingers run over the words one last time, then drop back to his side, and his round eyes seem impossibly large when they fix on Jinyoung’s again, voice edging even closer to a whisper. “But it's a secret.”
Taking a second to make sure he’s not misunderstanding Mark between his accent and slightly slurred words, Jinyoung tilts his head, frowning in confusion as he lowers the book to his lap. “It's a secret that you like reading?”
Mark nods, head rubbing against Jinyoung’s thigh with the exaggerated movement. “No one’s supposed to know ‘cause I'm supposed to be a cool kid. I do sports and I'm friends with all the jocks, and it's not cool to read.” Pausing, Mark blinks up at Jinyoung. “In America, I mean. In America, it's not cool to read. I bet it's cool here because you're doing it, and you're cool.”
Thrown by the eclectic explanation, Jinyoung isn't really sure what part he's supposed to address–or how to deal with being called cool despite all of Jaebum’s instances to the contrary–but Mark doesn't seem to be waiting for an answer this time, and Jinyoung feels a bubble of bewildered amusement as he continues.
“I always wrote my papers and took tests based on SparkNotes back hom–back in America.” Noting the flicker of his eyes when Mark corrects himself, Jinyoung’s curiosity about the slip of tongue mingles with his question of what a spark note is, but he doesn’t interrupt Mark’s jumbled story, too entertained in his confusion. “It was what all my friends did, and I didn't want to stand out too much or…or be weird or anything. So I never read the books during the school year. I would keep the list and read them during breaks, but not during the classes.” Mark pauses, eyes widening at Jinyoung abruptly as he waves a hand messily in the air between them. “Wait. That's a secret too. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Biting his lips together, Jinyoung swallows a smile at Mark’s sudden earnestness over keeping his reading habits a secret. “Okay, I won’t.” Mark huffs out a relieved sigh, and Jinyoung struggles again to keep his expression neutral. “But why wait until break? Why not read them during the school year and just keep it a secret then?”
Forehead wrinkling again, Mark considers this, and Jinyoung ignores the brief urge to smooth the creases out. “I was busy with my sports and martial arts, and I was always meeting with my friends, so I didn't have a lot of time for reading…” Trailing off, Mark’s gaze darts to Jinyoung once again, and Jinyoung fights another twitch of his lips when Mark’s eyes glint cheekily, mouth pursing in an almost smile. “Except for manga and comics. There’s always time for comics and anime.”
Jinyoung’s eyes crinkle. “You read manga instead of your school books?”
The grin that accompanies Mark’s nod is bright and shameless. “I wanted to be like Naruto.” Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, he runs his gaze over Jinyoung and lets out a little hum. “I bet your favorite was Sasuke with your whole dark and brooding image–”
Jinyoung can’t help the burst of laughter that forces its way out. It’s loud, even over the sound of the music, and a few people glance his way, but Jinyoung ignores their stares, losing himself to his amusement. Grinning back at him, Mark’s eyes are wide and delighted, and Jinyoung finally has to clap a hand over his own mouth to get himself back under control, trying to pretend that Mark’s bright smile isn’t sending warm prickles over his skin.
“I have a dark and brooding image?” Still trying to stifle the last of his laughter, the words are muffled behind his palm, but Jinyoung is glad for the barrier of skin when his cheeks warm under the weight of Mark’s gaze as he tilts his head to study him carefully.
When he finally nods, Mark’s hair brushes against Jinyoung’s leg again, but Jinyoung doesn’t mind as much this time, finding himself relaxing against his expectations. It might just be the alcohol affecting the other boy, but there’s something about Mark that’s easy to be around–a brightness and gentleness that that goes beyond his pretty face and soft appearance and makes Jinyoung feel surprisingly comfortable in his company. Plus, Jinyoung can’t help but be amused by his random topics of conversation.
“It’s because you don’t laugh enough. You should laugh more.” Tilting his head, Mark’s mouth curves up again. “I like your laugh.”
The warmth in Jinyoung’s cheeks burns hotter, and he rubs at them, raising an eyebrow at Mark as he tries to hide his flustered response to the unexpected confession. “How do you know I don’t laugh enough? Maybe I laugh all the time when I’m not trapped at parties and surrounded by drunk people.”
It occurs to him a little late that his words could come off as offensive to Mark, one of those drunk people, but Mark doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, he gives Jinyoung a knowing look that’s slightly ruined by a slow blink and quiet hiccup. “I know things. I know a lot of things about you, Jinyoungie.”
Jinyoung realizes that it’s the first time he can remember hearing Mark say his name. Mark says it a little funny, his American accent showing in the vowels, and Jinyoung can’t help finding it cutely endearing, and his lips twitch up again.
“If Jackson’s been telling stories about me, I swear they’re all lies, and I will absolutely put green dye in his shampoo.”
Shaking his head, Mark’s expression falls into a pout as his bottom lip pushes out. “No, no. It’s not Jackson.” He pauses and frowns, rethinking the statement. “Okay, it’s a little bit Jackson, but it’s because I see you a lot. On campus. I see you.”
It’s Jinyoung’s turn to frown. “You see me a lot?”
Mark nods again. “I sit behind you in our Economics class.”
Blinking, Jinyoung analyzes this revelation and finds that he has no memory of Mark being in his class at all. Not that he can pull up many memories of most of the faces he’s around on a regular basis–usually too focused on his classes, friends, or a book to worry about strangers–but the idea that he’s completely missed the presence of someone he sort of knew is a bit different. He has a sinking feeling that Jaebum might have a point in saying that Jinyoung should take more interest in the world around him, even if Jinyoung has always been loath to admit it considering Jaebum’s own obliviousness. He can’t help thinking about it now though, and the idea that Mark’s been sitting behind him for over half a semester without him noticing has him feeling strangely guilty, wondering if they might have talked sooner if he hadn’t been so caught up in other things. He ignores the other part of him that feels disappointed to have missed a full two months worth of class time glimpses of pretty features fixed in concentration.
Apparently sensing Jinyoung’s internal struggle, Mark gives him a soft smile. “It’s okay if you don’t remember. I come in after you, so you wouldn’t see me when I see you during class. Sometimes I see you before class, but you’re always busy. You read a lot of books. Did you know that?” Jinyoung’s lips twitch up as Mark’s smile gets warmer, but then Mark’s face falls, forehead wrinkling with sudden concern. “Oh. It’s supposed to be a secret though. Jackson said I should talk to you, but I told him not to say anything.”
“But you’re telling me now.” Jinyoung’s fingers slip from between the pages of his book when he shifts restlessly, but he’s far less interested in the lost page number than Mark’s surprising confessions. Running his hand through his hair, Jinyoung tries to keep his voice casual, not sure why he suddenly feels nervous. “Why are you telling me if it’s supposed to be a secret?”
“I guess you’re not as scary as I thought.”
The answer is so unexpected–delivered in a somber tone as Mark’s wide eyes roam over his face–that it forces a second laugh out of Jinyoung, the sound equal parts startled, amused, and relieved. He feels the tension that had been building in his shoulders vanish, collapsing back against the couch in his amusement.
“You thought I was scary too? Dark, brooding, and scary… What kind of first impression did I make, hyung?” The familiar title slips out without Jinyoung thinking about it, but he makes no effort to take it back, grinning down at Mark instead.
“You were only scary ‘cause I wanted to be friends with you.” Despite the lingering solemnity in Mark’s voice, his lips tug up at the corners in response to Jinyoung’s laughter, and he points a finger at Jinyoung’s face, waving it vaguely. “You have a nice smile and laugh. I liked them when we met and wanted to know you better, but I was too shy.”
Ignoring the dull flush under his skin at yet another unexpected revelation, Jinyoung lets his grin stretch wide, deliberately dragging his gaze over Mark’s sprawled form and the place where his head has been pressing into Jinyoung’s thigh for the past twenty minutes. “You don’t seem very shy to me.”
“That’s because I’m drunk. I do weird things and talk more when I’m drunk.” Tone matter of fact, Mark accompanies the statement with another little nod as he lifts his hand and holds it in front of him, studying it. Jinyoung’s eyes catch on the slender spread of his fingers when Mark wiggles them in the air. “I think I drank too much. Drunk too much.” He blinks twice and drops his hand back to his chest, meeting Jinyoung’s gaze again. “Drank too much?”
Jinyoung bites his lips against another smile, not wanting to seem like he’s mocking Mark, but he’s pretty sure his amusement gets spotted by the other boy anyway when his attention drops to his twitching mouth. “Drank too much, yes.” Mark’s lip juts out when he looks back to Jinyoung’s eyes again, and Jinyoung finally manages to hide his smile. “Why did you drink so much, then?”
“I was nervous.” Pout fading into something more serious as his lower lip disappears between his teeth, Mark’s gaze shifts from Jinyoung to the room at large, and Jinyoung realizes that he’d almost forgotten about the barely controlled chaos around them. “I don’t like parties, but Jackson made me come anyway, and then there were so many people everywhere and…” Mark trails off, his hands disappearing into the cuffs of his sweater when he tugs them down. “I don’t like being around people.”
The obvious discomfort in Mark’s body language paired with the sudden confession throws Jinyoung, and he pulls back slightly, only now noticing the way he’d been instinctively leaning closer to Mark throughout their conversation.
“I’m sorry.” He’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for considering that he wasn’t the one who dragged Mark to a party or dumped him with a virtual stranger, but he finds himself feeling guilty for thinking he was the only one being inconvenienced by the situation. “Would you like me to leave you alone, then?” Mark’s eyes flick back to Jinyoung’s face, widening, and Jinyoung flounders, thrown again by the unreadable look in them. “I just mean that you don’t seem like you’re going to get into too much trouble, and if you don’t like–”
“No!” Mark’s exclamation is loud, and Jinyoung can see people turning towards them again, but he’s more focused on the way Mark is flailing on the sofa, expression anxious as he tries to right himself. Catching him when he almost topples onto the floor, Jinyoung grips his shoulders and pulls him back from the edge, and Mark follows willingly, his eyes still focused on Jinyoung. “No, you don’t have to leave. Please–please don’t leave.” His hands wrap loosely around Jinyoung’s wrists, lip pushing out in yet another pout, and it occurs to Jinyoung that he’s finally found someone with a begging face to rival Youngjae’s. “I don’t mind you being here. Being around you is nice.”
“Okay.” There’s a trickle of warmth under Jinyoung’s skin starting from where Mark’s hands rest against his wrists, but he tells himself that he’s only staying because Mark seems so desperate and not because he’s developing a soft spot for round eyes, a bright smile, and a boy who gets too honest when he drinks. Certainly, Mark’s implication that he, or at least his company, is somehow special has nothing to do with it. Besides, Jackson asked him to watch Mark until he got back, and he’s still busy being a proper host and getting other students wasted. “I’ll stay, if you want me to.”
Beaming happily, Mark sags in relief, and Jinyoung can’t help wondering if maybe there’s some truth to Jackson’s insistence that he can’t leave a drunk Mark unsupervised after all when he has to keep him from toppling off the couch once more. He uses that as his final excuse to himself as he coaxes Mark to lay back down again after swaying dizzily, and Jinyoung pretends he doesn’t notice when Mark’s head ends up resting on his thigh instead of next to it, deliberately reaching for the water bottle he’d almost forgotten that Jackson had left.
“You’re nice.” Mark’s statement catches Jinyoung by surprise, and he freezes, blinking down at Mark with the water in hand. Mark smiles back at him happily, wriggling a bit on the couch and nuzzling into Jinyoung’s thigh. “I thought you would be, but you’re even nicer than I thought. Jackson didn’t tell me you were so nice.”
“That’s because I’m not nice.” Heat rising in Jinyoung’s cheeks, he twists off the cap of the bottle and offers the liquid to Mark more forcefully than he’d planned, sloshing some water onto his sweater.
Mark just giggles at the splash and scrunches his nose at Jinyoung before taking a long sip, and Jinyoung ignores the flustered twisting of his stomach.
“You are.”
Taking the bottle out of Mark’s hand and putting the cap back on before it spills again, Jinyoung decides that it’s probably too immature to get into an ‘are not/are too’ argument when at least one of them is sober, but Mark continues on his own anyway.
“You pretend you don’t like anyone, but I bet you’re the kind of person who stays with people when they vomit.”
“Lovely.” Putting all the dryness he can muster into his tone, Jinyoung tries to cover his embarrassment, flustered all over again by how easily Mark can apparently see through his carefully cultivated image of aloof disdain.
With another bubbling laugh that tells him he’s probably not fooling anyone anyway, Mark wriggles more, twisting around until he’s laying on his side and facing Jinyoung, cheek pillowed just above Jinyoung’s knee. “Your friends are lucky to have a friend like you, Park Jinyoung.”
Unsure of how to deal with the earnestness in Mark’s gaze and the confusing tightness in his chest, Jinyoung looks away. “I’m not that great of a friend. Jaebum and the kids tell me I nag too much.”
“Shh.” Mark’s hand is aimless but gentle when it brushes against Jinyoung’s thigh and rests there, and Jinyoung looks back to find Mark’s smile muted, a hint of sadness at the corners of his mouth. “You are great. I would be happy to have a friend like you.”
“We can be friends then.” The words fall out of Jinyoung’s mouth unplanned, and Mark goes still, eyes widening. Inhaling slowly and wondering if he’s going to end up regretting this impulsivity, Jinyoung shrugs, glancing away from Mark’s stare once again and trying to look casual. He’s not sure his voice quite manages it though, sounding awkward to his ears when he hurries to continue. “Only if you want, of course. And I’m warning you now that I’m not nearly as good of a friend as you seem to think, so don’t–”
“It’s okay!” Mark’s voice is high and eager, and Jinyoung looks down to see the widest, brightest grin he thinks he’s ever seen in his life. His chest gives a little squeeze at the happiness in Mark’s eyes, all thoughts of regret drifting away as his lips twitch up instinctively in response. “As long as you’re not secretly a pigeon, I don’t care about anything else!”
His slur is worsened in his excitement, and Jinyoung tilts his head, a smile tugging at his cheeks as he tries to figure out if he heard Mark’s condition correctly. “A pigeon? Do you have something against pigeons?”
“Yes. They’re evil.”
The twist of Mark’s face as he says it is comically extreme, and Jinyoung can’t help laughing again, the last of his hesitance over this unusually impulsive friendship dissolving into breathless laughter that has him collapsing into the couch cushions with a hand over his mouth. Ignoring the odd stares from the people lingering around them, Jinyoung’s grin stays plastered to his face all through Mark’s convoluted account of the time he was chased by the “pigeon mafia” for a slice of pizza as a child, his lingering fear of pigeons, and on through a series of impassioned confessions and rants regarding his favorite and least favorite foods prompted by Jinyoung’s amused comments and questions, and Jinyoung can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and happy.
Somewhere between a tirade against some American burger restaurant that Jinyoung has never heard of and a story about a time that Mark put salt in his older sister’s tea after she annoyed him, Mark’s words start getting more slurred, his Korean stuttered and broken up by English words and wide yawns. Jinyoung finds himself struggling to hide softer smiles as silences between sentences begin to stretch, Mark’s blinks getting increasingly longer and slower, and he feels an odd sense of contented victory when Mark’s eyes finally drift closed with a soft exhale and stay that way.
For a moment, Jinyoung watches Mark breathing softly, eyelashes casting light shadows against his still flushed cheeks above the slight part of his pink lips, and he’s reminded of the little thrill he would get when he caught glimpses of Mark on campus. The creep-factor of watching a near stranger sleeping, even one he's decided to befriend, is too strong to ignore though, and he looks away, embarrassed. Moving carefully to avoid waking him, Jinyoung finally picks up his book again, attempting to pass the time until Jackson returns, but he doesn't make much progress this time either–too distracted by sneaking glances at Mark’s peaceful face, denying his actions to himself, and glaring daggers at anyone who comes too close or makes too much noise nearby.
That's how Jackson finds him half an hour later, Yugyeom at his shoulder and an arsenal full of excuses and repentant expressions for making Jinyoung wait so long. Suddenly awkward when faced with Jackson’s intrusive presence and Yugyeom’s raised eyebrows, Jinyoung doesn't have the nerve to protest when Jackson directs Yugyeom to pick up Mark and take the older boy to their room, but he can’t resist stopping them before they get far.
“Wait. Let me write something down first.”
There's a pen on the floor under the side table but no paper, and Jinyoung hesitates for only a moment before pulling his bookmark out of his book and scribbling on it.
Mark-hyung,
I don't know if you're going to remember anything when you wake up, but… If you ever need a friend, I meant it. You’re nice to be around too.
He finishes off with his phone number, trying to hide the message from the curious gazes of the other two, but Yugyeom still gives him a little smirk when Jinyoung tucks the makeshift note into Mark’s back pocket. Glaring again, Jinyoung smacks his shoulder, but Yugyeom’s grin only widens as he heads off through the slowly thinning crowd with Mark curled up in his arms, and Jinyoung tries to ignore his little flare of disappointment when they finally disappear.
***
Taking advantage of the weekend and for once ignoring his ever-looming coursework in favor of making up for lost sleep, Jinyoung sleeps late the next morning. It's the chime of his phone that wakes him, the incoming message tone cutting through his dreams, and Jinyoung rolls over, flailing for the device. Screen blinding him when he turns it on, it takes Jinyoung a moment to make out the message from an unknown number, but then his lips curl up, and he blinks away the the last of his sleepiness with a light tingle under his skin.
From Unknown:
Thanks Jinyoungie
It only takes Jinyoung a moment to save the contact information and type out a reply of his own.
To Mark-hyung:
Anytime.
The thing that surprises Jinyoung the most is how much he means it.