#character:jackson

“Bambam!” Jackson Wang’s shrill scream pierced through the room like a knife.“You’re an absolute fucking shithead, you know that?”

In situations like these, the boys had learnt to keep themselves as busy as possible and try not to pay any mind to whatever attention-seeking announcement Jackson had for the rest of the group. Or specifically, for his shithead (his words) of a boyfriend.

“What did he do now?” Yugyeom whispered sardonically.

“He ate my fucking chips!” Jackson screeched back.

“I did not,” Bambam replied resolutely, eyes never leaving the movie that was playing on the television screen.

“We are literally the only two people who live here. Who else could have taken it?” Jackson demanded, his already-high pitch rising ever so steadily by some miracle of God.

“Pudding,” Bambam replied without missing a beat.

Jackson looked like he was about to explode.

“I’ll get you more chips, Sseunie. Sit your ass down and stop blocking my view of Chris Hemsworth,” Jinyoung appeased, rolling his eyes as he inched over on the couch to make room for the newcomer. Begrudgingly, Jackson plopped down, and silence fell over the room once more.

It barely lasted for a minute.

“I swear you took it!”

Everybody groaned.

“I didn’t.” Bambam sounded almost bored.

“You always do this! You always lie to me! Our relationship is all based on lies!” Jackson insisted hysterically, leaping back onto his feet and pointing an accusatory finger at Bambam.

“Our relationship is based on lies,” Bambam imitated, his face scrunched up in comical manner as he raised his voice to a high-pitched squeak.

Jackson gasped, seeming offended. “I do not sound like that! Take it back! And give me back my chips, too!”

“I do not sound like that,” Bambam continued to squeak in a manner that genuinely did not sound like Jackson. “Take it—” was all he could manage before he began to choke on his own laughter.

“I said I’ll get you new chips, please sit down Sseunie,” Jinyoung pleaded almost desperately, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

“Fine,” Jackson’s shoulders slumped in defeat, slinking down to the couch and snuggling closer to Jinyoung.

“How the fuck are they even dating?” Yugyeom grumbled softly from the other end of the room, stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. Next to him, Jaebum shrugged.

And then, the only sound that could be heard in the room was the droning of the actors on television.

Oh, and Bambam cackling hysterically while simultaneously hacking up a lung. But that was a minor detail.

——————

By the end of the movie, Bambam had fallen asleep, Jackson’s lips were still arranged in a pout and Jinyoung was about to fling himself out the window into the depths of hell.

Bambam hadn’t stopped laughing for ten minutes straight, and Jackson wasn’t as quiet in his death threats as he thought he was. Although, Jinyoung would admit, the numerous methods Jackson had fabricated to murder the Thai boy were extremely amusing, if not slightly terrifying. Maybe Jackson could consider a career in homicide.

Jinyoung picked up the TV remote and aimed it at the screen.

“Time to go, everyone,” he announced as the screen turned dark. “Thanks for having us, Sseunie,” he waved half-assedly, one foot already out the door. The other boys trailed after him, some yawning tiredly as they mumbled their goodbyes.

“We’re leaving, Bam,” was the last thing Jinyoung hollered before slamming the door shut and leaving Jackson with silence and a sleeping boyfriend.

Oh, an awake boyfriend now.

Bambam blearily opened his eyes as he glanced around the room, trying to make sense of what was happening. When his sleep-addled brain finally managed to decipher that the movie was over, everyone had left and Jackson was still sulking on the other end of the couch, it told him to move. What kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t?

Bambam blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he crawled towards Jackson, whose signature Wang Gae eyes were about to be the death of him. He flopped down next to his boyfriend, snuggling closer until any space between the two were practically nonexistent.

“I’m sorry for taking your chips,” he mumbled, voice muffled from his face being pressed into Jackson’s chest.

All of a sudden, Jackson’s demeanour seemed to shift.

His entire body relaxed into the couch, as if he was melting into a puddle of syrup and honey and all the love he held in his heart for Bambam. If Bambam was looking, he would’ve seen Jackson’s eyes soften and his lips turn up in the brightest of smiles.

“It’s fine, Bam,” Jackson whispered, even though they were the only two people left in the house. He ran his hands through Bambam’s hair comfortingly, fingers gently massaging the younger boy’s scalp. “We can get more. I’m not mad anymore.”

Bambam hummed softly, and Jackson could feel the vibrations travel through his body, through his veins, sending tingles down his spine and turning his heart into gooey, syrupy mush. “I love you, Ja-” Bambam’s words slurred, sleep enveloping him before he could even finish his sentence.

Jackson smiled fondly, fingers tingling with warmth at the sight of Bambam cuddled close to him, body rising and falling steadily with every breath he took. He gathered his boyfriend into his arms and heaved, pushing the both of them off the sofa and Bambam safely into Jackson’s embrace. He padded to Bambam’s bedroom and gently set Bambam down on the bed, brushing back a stray strand of hair on his forehead and leaning down to kiss the younger sweetly on the cheek.

“I love you too, Bambam.”

——————

Yugyeom let out a long, drawn-out groan on Jackson and Bambam’s couch, leaning his head back and slinking down in his seat.

“We’ve been waiting forever, now,” he lamented, reaching a lanky leg out to kick the man sitting opposite him. “Jackson, where’s your boyfriend?”

In response, Jackson hollered, “Yo, Bam! We’re all waiting!” He glanced over at Yugyeom and rubbed his calf ruefully, before tacking on completely out of spite, “your best friend’s complaining!”

Yugyeom kicked him again.

“I’m coming,” was the frustrated screech that rang from the Thai boy’s room. “You guys always fucking rush—”

Crash!

“Fuck!”

From his room emerged a frazzled, but nevertheless dolled-up Bambam, hopping awkwardly on one foot as he clutched his toe. “You guys always rush fashion! Now look at me, you fuckers—I stubbed my toe!”

Admittedly, Bambam looked incredibly dashing. His hair had been parted in the centre and rested artfully in strands down his forehead. His eyes were framed by deep red eyeshadow, accentuating his bright blue eyes (which were clearly contacts, but Jackson digresses). There was only one word he could use to describe his boyfriend—sexy.

Or handsome. Or gorgeous. Or hot. So maybe there were more words.

“Sucks to be you,” Jackson snickers instead, and jiggles his car keys in his hand. “Now let’s go—we’re actually late now.”

Bambam grins, picking up his phone. “I call shotgu—”

“I think the hell not!” came Yugyeom’s screech as he interrupted the Thai boy before he could even complete the word. “I had to wait a whole hour for your crusty ass to get ready, you bitch, I’m going to ride shotgun.”

Bambam’s eyebrows furrowed, cocking his head ever so slightly to the side as he fixed his gaze on Yugyeom. There was a pregnant pause, and then Bambam swiveled around to face Jackson.

“Jack,” he implored, tone sickly sweet. “I’m your boyfriend, right? Don’t you think I should ride shotgun?”

Jackson pretended to think, even though a smirk was beginning to spread on his face. “I don’t know, Bam,” he drawled. “Yugyeom has a point…”

“Oh my god,” Bambam gasped, aghast that he’d be betrayed this way by the one person who was supposed to be by his side through thick and thin, the one person who was supposed to—

“Yeah, I think Yugyeom should ride shotgun, instead,” Jackson concluded smugly.

“I think he should not!” Bambam fired back indignantly.

“It’s my car,” Jackson pointed out levelly, which all the more made Bambam fume.

“I’m your—”

Yugyeom groaned into his palm, burying his face in his hands as he tried to block out the couple’s bickering. He honestly didn’t get how they’d gotten together when all they seemed to do was argue—let alone how they hadn’t broken up yet. While he did love to spend time with each of the boys, not to mention he’d been best friends with half of the couple since their diaper days, being in the same room as the couple on his own was enough to give him a migraine.

“He’s going to ride shotgun,” Jackson declared with a note of finality, and Yugyeom felt a hand grab onto his wrist and pull him up sharply.

Whatever protests Yugyeom tried to weakly splutter out were promptly ignored as he was dragged out of the apartment all the way to Jackson’s car, with Bambam loudly complaining as he trailed along behind.

Oh, why did he ever try to butt in between the couple?

The door slammed as he was shoved into the passenger seat and Yugyeom winced, meekly pulling on his seatbelt. From behind him, Bambam continued to grumble as he crawled in the back.

For the rest of the journey, Bambam never stopped.

——————

When Bambam awoke, it was to low light and a fluffy blanket pulled over him.

Granted, his head was pulsing and he felt like he was about the throw up. Scratch that—the taste of bile was lingering on the tip of his tongue—maybe he already had.

A sliver of light sliced through the room as the door was slowly pushed open, a head popping in to reveal his boyfriend.

“Oh,” Jackson whispered, a bright grin on his lips. “You’re awake.”

Bambam could only groan in response.

“Bad hangover?”

Bambam nodded.

“Hangover soup?”

Bambam nodded again, a small smile beginning to spread across his face.

“Go wash up,” Jackson said fondly, cocking his head in the direction of their bathroom.

Bambam let out a noise that could only be described as a cross between a groan and a whine, and pulled his blanket over his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath, trying to force his vomit back down.

There was a soft pattering of footsteps and the blanket was tugged off. A gentle hand ran through his bed head and ruffled his hair. “You shouldn’t have drunk so much,” Jackson teased.

This time, Bambam let out a drawn-out whine, opening his eyes to gaze at his boyfriend and blinked sluggishly. “I know,” he pouted.

Jackson chuckled, the sound resounding uncomfortably in Bambam’s ears and making his head pound, but was still a bright, tinkling sound nevertheless.

Before he knew it, a pair of hands were snaking under his back and hoisting him up in the air, and Bambam almost yelped in surprise.

“You need to wash up, Bammie,” came the admonishing words, although Jackson’s tone held no meaning to it all. “You stink,” he teased playfully, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust.

Bambam swung one of his arms up to swat at Jackson’s face.

“I love you too,” Jackson cooed, screwing up his lips and making obnoxious kissing noises. “I love my baby Bammie so much, he’s so adorable, I love my itsy bitsy—”

“My head hurts,” Bambam whined again, squirming about in Jackson’s arms and effortlessly shut his boyfriend up, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he tried to balance the lanky boy in his arms.

Bambam felt himself being set down on a surface, and he hung his head as he felt his eyes drooping and his head was pounding and maybe the toilet wasn’t such a bad place to fall asleep on, you know—

“Bam,” came a gentle voice. “Come on, you can at least brush your teeth, right?” Jackson nudged his shoulder playfully, slotting a toothbrush in between his fingers. “Get yourself ready, and we’ll be out for your soup in no time.”

After the agonizing half-hour—in Bambam’s opinion—that it took for him to brush his teeth and slip his clothes on, Jackson was threading his fingers through Bambam’s as he tugged the younger out of their apartment and to his car.

Bambam felt the press of muscle against his own arm and warmth begin to spread through his body as Jackson began to walk with a light spring to his step.

“You okay?”

Bambam nodded, pulling his hand out of Jackson’s to wind his arm around the latter’s instead.

Jackson beamed. and Bambam’s heart fluttered. “I hope you had fun, even if you were pretty shitfaced,” Jackson chuckled.

There was a pause from him as Bambam let out a guttural noise, and then Jackson stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing Bambam to almost trip over his own two feet. Thank God for his boyfriend’s steady grip.

“Hey!” Jackson exclaimed in an accusatory tone, whipping to around to glare at his boyfriend. “You tried to make out with Yugyeom last night!”

Bambam’s heart stopped for a moment.

And then it was back to racing like a galloping horse, the loud thump-thump-thumps imitating heavy footfalls and laboured breaths as the horse thundered forward, on and on, ringing blaringly in his ears. Oh dear, what if Jackson was mad; Bambam swears on his life he didn’t remember any of the previous night’s events. What if Bambam did try to make out with his best friend, what if—

“Bammie! I thought you loved me!”

And suddenly Bambam was brought back to the ground. Suddenly Jackson’s words didn’t sound so horrifying, more like a harmless tease, something that was supposed to simply rile Bambam up, ruffle his feathers, jolt him awake just a little more. Maybe Bambam was overreacting—scratch that, he was definitely overreacting.

Suddenly, Jackson’s defiant gaze from below him seemed more like a pitiful kitten looking for their owner’s attention. It was almost identical to the way Latte would paw at his calves when he was hungry.

Bambam stroked his arm appeasingly.

“I do, Jacks,” he smiled warmly, and no matter how much shorter Jackson was compared to him, no matter how uncomfortable the position was to him, Bambam leant down, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder and tightening his grip around the elder’s arm every so slightly. “I love you so, so much Jackson, I’d never want to make out with anyone but you.”

Bambam almost saw Jackson’s eyes shining as the latter pulled him in for a tight embrace, pressing his face into Bambam’s neck and nuzzling in. “I love you too, Bam. I’m so sorry i don’t say it enough.”

They pulled apart, holding each other with bodies nearly pressed flush together, eyes twinkling, ghosts of smiles lingering on their lips.

And then it was over, way too quickly than Bambam would have liked. He wouldn’t admit it, but he adored these moments of sappiness he’d occasionally share with his boyfriend. The moments they hid away from their friends, the public eye. The moments that belonged to them.

Jackson was tugging on Bambam’s hand again, and they continued their walk to the car.

“For real, though, you actually did try to kiss Yugyeom.”

“I’m sorry, Jacks,” Bambam grinned, not sounding very sorry at all.

It barely took them a minute before Jackson’s car appeared in sight, and there was a beeping sound as Jackson pressed the button on his keys to unlock it.

“Ride shotgun today, please?” Jackson quirked his eyebrows hopefully.

Bambam grinned as he slid into the front seat.

And as Jackson started up the car, Bambam slipped his fingers in between Jackson’s.

——————

Bambam was supposed to be in charge of the new guy that day.

Being one of the employees who worked the longest at the coffee shop, he would know how things worked around there. Naturally, the role fell to him.

Well, it could have fallen to Youngjae, who’s worked just about as long as him. But Youngjae had a knack for shirking responsibility, that little traitor, so there they were.

The newest employee, Dowoon, is a bright young man who has too much enthusiasm in his tiny body. He’s willing to do whatever Bambam asks of him, and while it might be little overbearing, Bambam thinks he would make a great barista in the future.

After showing him the basics of brewing coffee, Bambam had been making Dowoon wipe down for about an hour, as the customer stream grew heavier and Bambam and Youngjae were busy behind the counter. As the number of customers began to lessen, and Youngjae snuck into the kitchen to nab a pastry for himself to snack on, Bambam decided to let Dowoon take his very first order.

“Hey,” Bambam smiled as he approached the table Dowoon had been dutifully scrubbing at. “I think you can take your first customer now!” He took the rag from Dowoon’s hand. “Let’s swap. The next customer is yours. Take their order, make sure Youngjae isn’t stealing more food from the kitchen, and serve them their order.” Bambam cocked his head toward the counter. “Simple as that.”

Dowoon’s beam could have rivalled the brightness of the sun.

“I’m on it,” Dowoon saluted, and scurried behind the counter, fingers tapping eagerly on the cash register. From behind, Youngjae emerged from the kitchen, a danish between his teeth and a croissant in his hand.

“You want one?” he offered it to Dowoon.

Dowoon shook his head. “It-it’s fine, Youngjae-hyung. I shouldn’t be eating on the job.”

“Yeah, Youngjae,” Bambam called out dryly from the table he was at.

The door bell jingled.

Dowoon jumped. “Wel-welcome! What can I get you?”

Bambam grinned at the familiar silhouette.

“I know this one,” he called, before the man could even open his mouth to reply. “Caramel frappe, with…” Bambam pretended to ponder. “Extra whip?”

“You know me so well, Bam,” Jackson grinned.

The tips of Dowoon’s ears were a bright pink. “Well,” he smiled. “I’ll get right to it. I mean—Youngjae will get right to it. I don’t—I don’t know how to work the machines yet.” Dowoon was stuttering like a high-schooler at his first day at school.

“It’s my first day…” Dowoon trailed off, the flush spreading to his cheeks.

“No problem,” Jackson smiles warmly, before turning to face Bambam.

“You’re training him?”

Bambam nodded proudly. “I think he’s doing great!”

Jackson walked over and slapped Bambam heartily on the back. (A little too heartily, Bambam might add. He nearly choked on air.) “He’s so sweet. And cute.”

Bambam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a snort from behind the counter, and Dowoon’s face seemed almost as red as a tomato.

“I’ll be back,” he reassured, before ducking behind the counter.

“What’s going on?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Dowoon thinks your friend here is really handsome,” Youngjae snickered, stuffing his face with the croissant he had saved from earlier to stifle his laughter.

“H-he said I was sweet too. And cute,” Dowoon stuttered.

“Yeah, he sure did,” Bambam frowned.

Dowoon let out a high-pitched noise that could have been a squeal. “Do you think he’d give me his number?”

“I don’t know, Dowoon,” Bambam cocked his head to the side, eyeing the younger. Dowoon, though, bless his adorable self, seemed to be completely oblivious and continued to gape at Jackson as the latter’s head was bent over his phone.

Bambam’s phone pinged.

i think he likes me bam

Bambam clenched his teeth.

i think i should give him my number. he’s a qt

Youngjae, practically about to burst into tears at the whole affair, shakily caps Jackson’s drink and hands it over to the smitten Dowoon. “Finish up your first customer!”

Dowoon looked as if he was about to melt into a puddle on the ground.

“Uh—caramel frappe for Jackson?” he called shyly, and Jackson walked up to the counter with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“That’s me.”

Dowoon reached over to hand the cup to Jackson, before pulling back and grabbing a marker, scribbling something on the side of the cup.

Bambam clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palm.

“Here,” Dowoon thrust the cup over, averting Jackson’s gaze.

Jackson grabbed the cup and glanced at Dowoon’s messy handwriting, biting his lip as a smile began to spread across his face.

“Did you just give me your num—”

Bambam reach over the counter to pull on Jackson’s shirt harshly, reeling him in into a rough kiss that cut off whatever the latter was just about to say. He made sure their lips lingered, tilting his head a little to try to deepen the kiss. He felt Jackson’s lips tilt upwards as he played along.

When he finally pulled away, the shit-eating grin was back on Jackson’s face.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, babe.”

Dowoon let out another high-pitched screech.

(“Oh my god!” Youngjae hollered into the phone—since when did he get on the phone?

Jackson wakes up that morning to an envelope hitting his face and a dog scratching his leg.

“What.”

He squints at the bright light coming in through the blinds before smacking the offending rectangle of paper off to the side.

“Jackson! Don’t go back to sleep. I need you to drop this off at the bank before you go in for your shift this afternoon. Don’t forget unless you want to be out on your ass with the landlord hounding you for a paycheck.”

“What.” Jackson thinks he hears Jinyoung’s voice say some more words ranging from “careful” to “I’m late” to “you’re dead to me” but he opts to rather ignore his roommate’s ritual morning mumbo jumbo in favor of turning over and falling back asleep, this time very much without the sun shining in his eyes. Heating bill be damned, Jackson does not appreciate Jinyoung ruining his beauty sleep by yanking open the blinds every day at eight in the morning.

“I said don’t sleep!”

“Okay mom,” he mumbles to the sound of the front door slamming shut.

—

Jackson forces himself out of bed after a few moments of tossing and turning. Jinyoung always knew what kinds of smells to cook up in the morning and how to open doors in just the way that would scratch on the back of Jackson’s half-conscious mind until he dragged his ass out of bed. This hadn’t been what Jackson had been expected when first signing the lease with Jinyoung.

This and the mess of our living room, Jackson thinks as he picks his way between piles of clutter and makes his way to the awaiting omelet in the kitchen. At least there’s one good side to this arrangement, Jackson concludes as he munches through breakfast while scrolling down his newsfeed. Its an average start to an average morning before he’s off to his afternoon shift at work. He picks up the envelope Jinyoung had dropped on him and decides that thirty minutes before work should do the trick, checking the time as he starts getting dressed.

Jackson checks the time on his phone once more as he leaves the house, checking the lock once, then twice because sometimes their neighbor gets confused and likes to barge in. He sees that he has plenty of extra time and decides that today is a good day, a leisurely day. He walks out the door with a smile reaching his eyes and a whistle on his lips, waving at the guard at the front as he passes.

Jackson is enticed by the sweet aroma of lattes and espresso coming for the little cafe around the corner and stops in for a green tea latte, dropping a tip for the barista because if his day is going this great, then so should everybody else’s.

Once he reaches the bank, the shining sun and chirping birds have made it so that he feels like he’s practically floating at this point. The heavens truly appear to be blessing him today, because he bumps into a man at the door with a smile that could outshine the sun.

“Oh, sorry!” the stranger giggles, pulling back from the door as Jackson reaches forward.

“Oh no, after you,” Jackson gestures, and hey, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do! Although if somebody asked, he wouldn’t be able to truthfully say that he hadn’t used the opportunity to check out that fine ass as it walked by him.

As they get into line, Jackson is so dazed by the smell of actual sunflowers and daisies emanating off of this angel in front of him that he ends up bumping into his backside. The stranger turns around with a surprised expression on his face, and Jackson opens his mouth to apologize when the moment explodes.

He hears it behind him in slow motion, the tinkling of the bells above the doorway emphasized by the shattering of the glass windows. Logically, Jackson knows it isn’t possible, but he’s sure he can hear each individual crackle and snap match the reflection in the stranger’s eyes as they widen in shock and fear.

And then snap, life is back on normal speed, people are screaming everywhere and Jackson does the only thing he can think of to do. He drops Jinyoung’s envelope and grabs the man’s hand in front of him, drags it behind him as he leaps behind a booth and crouches, panting heavily. There’s panicked shouting and scrambling everywhere, and for some reason, the sprinklers have gone off so now they’re wet. Jackson, with water dripping down his hair and face, mouths, “Are you okay?” and when the stranger nods, still with those wide and solemn eyes staring at him, Jackson finds a sliver of a smile within him. “Hi, Okay. I’m Jackson.”

The stranger opens his mouth wide, and even though Jackson has never heard his laugh, and maybe never will, he can imagine how loud and carefree it would be. Jackson imagines it bouncing around a classroom full of little kids as the man reads a fairytale to his students, or outside, laughing and rolling off the picnic blanket and into the grass, or in a movie theatre on an awkward first date while everybody else in the theatre shoots death glares while Jackson can’t help but laugh along, or in a car on a long road trip to the beach as kids in the backseat whine, “Are we there yet?”

But instead, in this heavy moment, he gets to hear a strangled breath before the man shakes his head gently, fondly, even, following up with a smile and a whisper of, “It’s actually Youngjae.”

As Jackson turns his head to the side and sees thick black boots stomp over Jinyoung’s check, a small part of his brain tells him that later, Jinyoung will be so upset with him for letting this happen, although he’s not sure whether this is the fallen envelope, or the hiding behind the desk about to die, or not getting this strange man’s number and letting Jinyoung be their best man in the future and adopting the cutest little babies who will grow up knowing that their father was an angel and naming Jinyoung godfather and sending their children on little playdates and crying together as a family as they watch their babies go off to college and, and, and… And instead making Jinyoung be a primary mourner at a funeral, or whatever.

But he decides that, in the end, it doesn’t matter, as he tilts his head back against the wooden panel and looks up into the barrel of a gun, smiling, as he whispers, “Okay, Actually-Youngjae.”

—

“Hi.”

Mark looks up pensively from where he’s trying (andfailing) to complete a conclusion for his essay, a pen in his mouth. There’s avery unfamiliar, very tanned boy standing in front of him with a Very Bigsmile, a hand extended.

There’s an abundance of empty seats around them,seeing as it’s a Saturday afternoon, so Mark wonders what this guy wants. He’snot one to judge, but it’s a little freaky to intentionally share tables withstrangers (and that’s saying something coming from a student in this school).Mark’s rethinking the pros and cons of carrying pepper spray around the schoolwhen the boy continues speaking.

“Name’s Jackson, I was assigned to your unit,” the boysays. He’s wearing a loose black T-shirt with a band name Mark vaguelyrecognises, a backwards snapback and black jeans, and his forearm is lean and muscled,like he does sports often. “The grumpy sunglasses boy with the piercings in ourteam says I’m rooming with you.”

Mark unfolds his arms, tucking his hands into sweaterpaws. “Space must be getting tight, then.”

Jackson’s sincerely bright expression doesn’t falter.“I just got here this morning, it’s a cool place you all got here- grumpysunglasses man says you’re supposed to show me around. I’ll buy you dinner?”

Mark eyeballs him for a good five seconds or so,before shrugging, shaking back his sweater sleeves to accept Jackson’s hand ina handshake. “My name’s Mark. Mark Tuan, from California, US.”

“Nice to meet you Mark. Jackson Wang, from Hong Kong,”He reaches up, flipping his snapback around to show the white 852 emblazonedacross the front. Jackson settles in the seat across Mark, and Mark swears hiseyes flash blue for a second there, before settling on him with barelyconcealed friendly interest. “Cool gloves, by the way.”

Mark flashes him a wry smile, picking up his pen,black gloved fingers melting back into his sweater sleeves once more. “Thanks.I like them too.”

*

Jackson is, very generally and simply put, everythingthat Mark is not.

He’s the kind of guy to strut into a room and walk outfriends with everyone in it. He’s loud. Friendly. Enthusiastic about life andeverything it has to offer. And very, very touchy.

Mark carefully extricates his elbow from whereJackson’s looped his arm with his on the way from the classrooms to the dormarea for the third time, politely reminding him that he’s not comfortable beingtouched. Jackson apologises for the eighth time, and proceeds to forget about30 seconds later when he grabs Mark’s arm to point at something.

“Hey, look!”

With pursed lips, Mark grudgingly looks out of thewindow where Jackson’s pointing, at the various pillows floating outside.They’re almost done with the circuit tour of the classrooms, and Mark’s trying(and failing) to remember where the labs are,  Mark makes a small annoyed noise of so?

“There are pillows! Floating! Outside!” Jackson hasthis amazing ability to put exclamation marks on every word he says. It’s veryannoying. Also a little cute. But mostly annoying.

“Yeah, Jinyoung usually does his target practicearound this time,” Mark mumbles. “You might wanna watch out for the open-…”

Mark’s warning comes about a split second too late-the pillows shoot in (mostly) one direction, mostly because one errant pillow comes flying in through the openwindow. It’s the years of carefully honed experience (and only that) whichguide Mark to jump out of the way in time, so it’s no surprise when the pillowcatches Jackson in the face with a whump.

“Oh shoot, I’m-…I’m sorry!” Someone’s voice travels upfrom downstairs, and Jackson stares, stunned, the pillow now in his hands. “DidI-…did I hit anyone? Are you okay?”

Jackson runs up to the window, then, and Markhalf-panics, wondering if he’s going to hurl abuse down at Jinyoung and getkicked out of the team by Jaebum before he even moves in (though wouldn’t thatbe a good thing?), before the boy sticks his head to look down.

“That was totally awesome!”he shouts down, clearly ecstatic. “Can you do it again?”

There’s a politely puzzled silence from downstairs,and Mark rolls his eyes, going over to stick his head out of the window withJackson.

“Hey, Jinyoungie,” he says, to the black-hairedtelekinetic, currently standing, confused and slightly unnerved, in the garden.“This is Jackson. He got assigned to our unit, he’s rooming with me.”

“Oh, hey Jackson!” Jinyoung smiles, though Markdoesn’t miss the way he glances at Mark in concern for a moment, as if to askif you’re okay with this?

Mark plaintively conveys his best I had no part in this decision because Jaebum obviously doesn’t give adamn face, before Jackson launches into an entire shouted conversation withJinyoung, starting from where he came from and going into his favourite foodand pastime. This carries on until Nayeon pokes her head out from the classroomtwo floors below, looking confused and slightly pissed off at the noise, andMark has to drag Jackson away before any potentially fatal acidic spitballs arethrown their way.

*

Jackson moves into the room quickly- he has two, atmost a little under three boxes of stuff, mostly black clothes and lots of oddherbal and organic foodstuffs, which barely fills the closet he’s allotted.

“Travel light,” he jokes, sitting with a thump on hisbed. “Never know when you’ll have to move again.”

Mark had helped him unpack, only because he knewJinyoung would nag if he didn’t, and sits cross-legged on his bed now, playingwith the patterns on his bedspreads.

“The other rooms for this dorm, who do they belongto?” Jackson says curiously, peering out of their door into the central livingroom area. “That Jinyoung guy, does he live here too?”

“Yeah,” Mark shrugs. “We’re all assigned differentunits, each unit gets an apartment and the leader of the unit assigns you aroom. Our leader’s Jaebum- grumpy sunglasses guy with the piercings, like yousaid.”

“There are other guys?”

“Yeah, they’ll be getting back in a while. Except forYoungjae- he’s in Busan studying cloud patterns, he’s coming back later tonight.”

Jackson frowns, about to open his mouth to ask, beforedeciding better of it. Mark smirks. He’s learning.

“So how does the school thing work, exactly?” The HongKong native stands again, seemingly unable to keep still, now looking throughMark’s pile of schoolbooks. “We still do the math science language thing?”

“Yeah,” Mark shrugs, pushing his hands into hispockets. “They think it’s important. Training’s mostly kept till afterlessons.”

Jackson raises a brow. “Training? Like forsuperheroes?”

Mark scoffs. “Try training to control it, first,doofus.”

The other boy doesn’t respond- he’s staring at Mark’sdesk. “Okay, I don’t mean to pry, man, but is there a reason for all yourpaperweights? Like is it a hobby, or something, to collect paperweights-…”

“Shit,” Mark’s eyes widen, and he pushes Jackson outof the way, before throwing the wide window open and jumping back. “I forgot,today’s-…”

There’s a one second, twosecond reprieve, before a ball of white and dark blue corkscrews through thewindow, and a strong gust of wind blows all of Mark’s books open and attempts(but fails) to send his papers into chaos.

The cannonbolt unravels, landing perfectly onits feet with a small whirlwind, and Yugyeom beams, arms wide in his landingpose, white wings spread in an arc. “Ta-daa~” he says proudly to Mark, wholooks less than impressed. “Another perfect landing nailed. I’m going to passthe exam for sure.”

“I still don’t understand why you have to use my window,” Mark grumbles, straighteningall his things with an ease that can only be afforded to one who has to do thisevery single day.

“Yeah, hyung, well Jaebum did say we could trade so I could use the room with the big window,but you were like, no,” Yugyeom says,pulling off his shoes. “You know, having a roommate isn’t all that…” he’s turned around, finallynoticing Jackson, and suddenly looks very self-conscious. “Bad. Oh. Uhm, hey.”

“This is Jackson, Jackson Wang,” Mark says,suddenly slightly uncomfortable. The ratio of awkward to socially adept peoplein this room is starting to unbalance. Then he adds, “He’s older than you.”

“Hi, Jackson hyung,” Yugyeom mumbles, bowing alittle out of habit. “Uhm, I’m sorry, I don’t-…I don’t usually, uh, have thewings out. When I meet new people. Sorry if I messed up your-…”

“Are those real wings?” Jackson says, lookingawed. “They’re so cool.”

“You think so?” Yugyeom looks genuinelysurprised, turning back to see the soft feathered appendages coming out of hisback. “I mean. Yeah. They’re kind of cumbersome, though- oops,” the wingsaccidentally knock over a stack of books, which the other boy fumbles to catch.“Sorry Mark hyung.”

“Yeah, really,“ Jackson grins."Yugyeom, right?”

“Oh, yeah, Jaebum mentioned a new additionwhen he messaged earlier!” Yugyeom says excitedly. “That’s reallycool, you’re going to love this team, we’re-…”

What exactly they are in Yugyeom’s opinion, Marknever manages to find out, because at that very moment, there’s a sharp crackand a burst of dark blue smoke, and suddenly Yugyeom’s flat on the floor andsomeone’s sitting on him, looking curiously at the new addition to the dorm.

“Hi! I’m Bambam,” The boy sitting witha very natural, practiced ease on top of a long suffering Yugyeom saysenthusiastically. “I like your muscles.”

To Mark’s surprise (though should he honestly besurprised anymore, when it comes to Jackson), the other boy doesn’t look theleast awkward or embarrassed by the outlandish statement. “Thanks, I likethem too,” he says proudly instead, giving an obligatory flex.

Yugyeom looks slightly scandalised, but mostlyawed, Bambam seems to puff up in uncontrollable, vibrating excitement, and Markvery slowly and deliberately rolls his eyes.

“You’re so cool!” Bambam squeaks.

“Better check yourself before you wetyourself,” Yugyeom grumbles, trying to push Bambam off him.

“That’s Bambam, he’s a transfer too, fromThailand. He teleports,” Mark mumbles, as the sound of the door openingmomentarily distracts everyone in the room.

“Bambam, get off Yugyeom,” Jinyoungsays absently as he strolls past the room, an assortment of different thingstrailing behind him in the air, before looking in to smile at Jackson.“Great to see you’ve settled in so fast.” One of the things floatinglazily behind Jinyoung (an English paperback) bumps into his head, and thetelekinetic turns back to glare it. The book shrinks away with a smallapologetic nod. “Anyway, anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask Mark or therest of us.”

“Believe me, he won’t be hesitating,” Markgrumbles, and Jackson gives his best offended look.

It’s about a moment after he leaves that anotherman stops by to walk in, lifting Bambam by the collar off Yugyeom anddepositing him on Mark’s bed, before turning to stare Jackson down throughtinted maroon shades. Jackson very notably swallows, looking slightlyuncomfortable, and Mark resists the urge to laugh.

“You got the briefing about what we do herefrom the professors?”

“Yessir,” Jackson replies instantly,mockingly or not, Mark can’t exactly tell.

“You know what this team means?”

“I will soon. Cool glasses, by theway.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll make me takethem off,” Jaebum turns away, stretching as he walks out of the room, andthe thundercloud aura that’d hung in the air moments before this seems to goout with him. He’s picking several articles of clothing off the sofa when hecalls back to them. “Whoever doesn’t have shit to rush, Jinyoung and I aregoing to pick up Youngjae after dinner, feel free to come along.”

“Oh yeah, Jae’s coming back tonight!”Yugyeom gets up from the floor, half tripping over his wings, and Bambamsnickers. The youngest frowns, and Mark totally calls it when Yugyeom reachesover in one lightning movement, and the other boy squeals.

“Jinyoung hyung,” Bambam wails,running out of the room, something long and dark trailing behind him from theseat of his pants. “Yugyeom made me Tail in front of the cool new guyyyy.”

Mark and Jackson are left in the now empty room,poorly shielded from the chaos happening outside as the two youngest startarguing.

“Sorry about the-…” Mark gesturesoutside lamely for lack of anything better to describe it. “They’re alittle more sane on normal days, and JB’s always like that- it takes some gettingused to, but-…”

Jackson’s beaming, face split into the biggestsmile as he turns to look at Mark. “I love everything.”

Mark looks over, hands folded nervously in frontof him, a little puzzled and a little gratified. “Thanks.”

He sees the other boy’s eyes follow his action,gaze lingering on his gloves for seconds that feel like hours, and when Jacksonopens his mouth he braces instinctively.

But Jackson’s breath skips over his words, andthe moment’s swept away by the force of his sentence. “So who’s this Youngjaeyou guys were talking about just now?”

*

Youngjae hugs everyone and everything when hemeets them later in the cafeteria, and, as expected, is delighted to meetJackson. The country dialect lingers in his words after two weeks in Busan, andhe gushes for five minutes straight about how much he’s learnt.

Mark feels a certain odd sense of completenessas they troop into the dorm that night, the combined vocal efforts of Jackson,Youngjae and Bambam making Sungjin pop his head out of the opposite dorm tofrown and inform them drily that somepeople are trying to study here.

Even when it’d been just the six of them, he’dfelt content with the status quo, prickly at the thought of pushing hisboundaries for more but unable to see them as any less. Now, though, withJackson, it feels- strange. Happy. Whole.

He still wonders with a long suffering sigh ifhe could live without it, when they’re in the kitchen that night, ready to turnin, because the maknaes have broken all codes of conducts to blatantly askJackson what he can do.

“Okay, okay, check this out,” Jackson’sgrinning, holding the bottle of soda that Yugyeom had eagerly gotten for him.There’s a moment of reverent silence from all three youngest, forming a littlesemicircle around him, and Mark, sitting at the opposite end of the kitcheneating watermelon slices.

Jackson plays it off, obviously putting a lot ofeffort into making it look as effortless as possible, focusing hard on thebottle, before lifting the mouth to his lips and blowing quickly.

There’s a collective ooh from the kids, and even Mark looks on, pretending he’s notinterested, as the bottle frosts rapidly from the top to the bottom, andJackson grins, lifting it in a toast (to himself, probably, that egoistic jerk)before downing a mouthful.

“That’s so cool,”Youngjae’s looking on with wide eyes, as if forgetting the fact that he canpretty much make it rain lightning himself.

“Cool,” Jackson chuckles. “Get it?”

There’s a muffled someone throw him out of the window from Jaebum, at the other endof the apartment, as the maknaes burst into laughter.

“Hyung, you need to chill,” Jackson continues gleefully, and Mark groans into his mugof water, rolling his eyes. He can’t believe this is what he’s going to be rooming with until further notice.

Bambam makes it out of the kitchen with thebottle of soda, Youngjae lathering on praises for the intricate snowflakepatterns on the side of the glass, while Jackson gets another bottle, doing thesame thing, except without the bravado and bluff from earlier.

“Liked the trick?” he says smugly, settlingopposite Mark at the kitchen island to take a sip, and Mark rolls his eyesagain, unable to hold back a smile.

“Yeah, real cool, Jackson.”

“Then it’s your turn,” the other boy leans back,gaze flicking down to the gloves. His demeanour is curious, but not unkindlyso- he has a knack for making himself out to be sincere to a fault. “What canyou do? Let me guess,” he interjects quickly, squeezing his eyes shut in focus.“Fire. You’re a total pyromaniac. You need the gloves to stop the fire.”

“Nah, that’s Younghyun,” Mark takes a sip ofwater unenthusiastically. “Also, introduce me to these gloves you’re talking aboutthat can apparently stop fire.”

“Meh…telepathy?” Jackson squints. “What am Ithinking of.”

Mark shrugs. “A hardcore threesome.”

Jackson snorts. “Close. Okay, I’m out of ideas. Unlessyou’ve got like, super cool mouths on your hands that chew and shape explosiveclay.”

“I wish,” Mark says drily. He waits outJackson’s expectant look, before letting out a sigh, tugging the fingers of aglove out, before pulling the whole left glove off.

He hears Jackson let out a small disappointednoise at the lack of hand-mouths, and almost laughs. He doesn’t because helifts the hand to lay it over Jackson’s, the one holding the bottle.

Jackson’s skin is both fire and ice againstMark’s at the same time, glowing with a powerful, restless cool energy, and foronce it pulls Mark in, intrigues him to the point he almost doesn’t want to letgo. For a moment, they remain like that, both holding the same bottle.

“Uh,” Jackson says, slightly confused. “No homobro?”

Mark laughs again, waiting for the telltale dropof perspiration on Jackson’s crown, before he withdraws his hand likelightning, and the other boy blinks, hand quivering around the bottle.

“Whoa, was that like, some sort of possession,or something,” he sounds like he’s struggling to put words together- the usual,then.

“Something,” Mark shrugs, leaning over.Casually, he blows on the mouth of the bottle like Jackson had just now, andthere’s a muted crackling as the soda freezes over into ice. “Cool, huh,” Helets out a colourless laugh, standing to put his mug in the sink.

As Mark turns around to give Jackson a glance, he’ssurprised to see a smile on the other boy’s face.

“Pretty solid,” Jackson lifts the bottle then,grinning.

It takes Mark a moment to process it, but heeventually breaks into gales of laughter, harder than he ever rememberslaughing, Jackson following almost immediately. This carries on until Bambamwalks by, casting a curious look into the kitchen.

“That wasn’t bad,” Mark chuckles, dabbing at thecorner of his eyes with his gloves, and the other boy puffs out his chest.

“I’m insulted you thought any less of me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t stay up too late,” Mark rollshis eyes, turning around to rinse the mug, before setting it on the dish rack.“Big first day tomorrow.”

When he turns around, though, Jackson’s wanderedover with a grin, almost right in front of him, and he startles a little.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Mark backs against the sink instinctively,wincing as the closet handle digs into the back of his thigh. Eyes averted, hesidles away. “Well,” he shrugs. “See you back in the room later, then.”

He hurries out of the kitchen, unable to ignorethe watchful eye Jinyoung’s giving him from across the room, or the fact thathe’d left his left glove on the table in his rush to get out.

It’s too much all at once, and the roar at theback of Mark’s head is deafening, a persistent chant asking him how many ruleshe’s just broken in the past few minutes.

Whatever it is that’s started – all that mattersis that it ends. Before people get hurt again.

But Mark returns to his (their) room after ashower, rubbing a towel into his hair, and spots the glove on his pillow, andis forced to stifle another laugh.

The fingers of the dark fabric have beenarranged into the cheesiest finger heart he’s ever seen in his life. Markdebates sighing or continuing to laugh, and he neglects both in favour of afond smile, swiping the glove and pulling it on.

Outside, the sound of Jackson’s shriekinglaughter over a dumb video with Bambam echoes through the dorm, and Mark rollshis eyes, turning over to start surfing Youtube for cat videos. It’s loud, justloud enough to frighten away the ghosts of years past.

~~

Markis a laid back, calm, and collected person.

Just in case that wasn’t clearenough, Mark is a very laid back, calm, and collected person. Sure, hegets caught in the throes of passion every so often like any other human being,but all in all he’s much more content to go with the flow.

Perhaps it’s fitting, then, thathis fiancé simultaneously manages to be a hyperbolic version of himself as wellas his exact antithesis.

“Jackson,” Mark says, his tone ofvoice exactly that of a parent whose child was teetering on the edge of somecatastrophic act, “we have an hour before the store closes. We’ve barely made a dentin our shopping list.”

It should be no surprise that theresponse he receives mimics exactly that of a petulant child.

“But Mark~ they have adult Heelys! Did you know they made these inadult sizes?”

Jackson doesn’t even look at Markwhen he asks his question, too enraptured by the pair of shoes currently in hispossession. He’s crouched down on the tiled floor, a hand in each shoe, the boxtossed haphazardly aside. Experimentally, he swipes the bottoms against the ground,whooping at the satisfying slide.

“They’re so cool!”Jackson gushes, and only now does he peer upwards at Mark, all doe-eyed anddopey-grinned.

Mark can immediately anticipate theupcoming question, and hastily attempts to cut Jackson off.

“Yeah, they are! I had a pair whenI was a kid! But they’re actually quite tricky, and I think I fell on my face acouple of times. And we still have a bunch of things we need to pick up,Jackson, so we should really-”

“Ohhh ouch! But that’s when youwere a kid, right?” Jackson’s selective hearing has conveniently kicked in, andMark sags, knowing there’s no stopping him now. “Oh my god, Mark! You know whatwould be awesome? And totally unique? If we rolled down the aisleat our wedding instead of walking!”

“Jackson,” Mark saysthrough gritted teeth. This is turning out to be a much more serious situationthan he originally anticipated. “Our wedding is in week. A week. Seven days. Wecannot suddenly decide to go down the aisle in Heelys.”

Jackson pauses, head snappingsharply to look at Mark, his pupils blown.

“Wait, it’s in a week?Seven days?!” Jackson nearly screeches, and Mark has the suddenurge to smother his fiancé’s face into a nearby rack of sweaters. He resists,however, and instead peers furtively left and right to see if they’ve managedto attract the attention of a concerned sales associate yet. Getting kicked outof the store for causing a disturbance would be a mortifying end to thisalready disastrous night.

“Yes, Jackson, our marriage is in aweek, so can we please move on and finish our shopping list before thestore closes down?” Mark hisses, ready to drop down next to Jackson to forciblypry the shoes from his hand. As a result, he is nearly headbutted when Jacksonsuddenly shoots up to standing, eyes sparkling in a way that makes Mark’sstomach turn with both serious apprehension and irrational attraction.

“That’s right,” Jackson breathesout, still looking starstruck. “You’re going to be mine forever in a week, andI’m going to be yours.”

At this, Mark can’t help but flush,shocked by the sudden confession.

“You’re ridiculous,” Mark drops hisgaze, embarrassed but pleased, “That’s already true anyways, it’d be true evenif we weren’t getting married. It’s just a formality.”

“Of course,” Jackson agreeshappily, grinning when Mark finds it in himself to meet his gaze again. “Butstill, I can’t wait. It’s going to have to be extra special.”

“Yes, yes, it will be,” Marklaughs, reaching out to grasp one of Jackson’s wrists. “And to make sureeverything goes smoothly, can we please finish our shopping now? Before thestore closes? Besides, I thought we talked about having the most beautiful, clichéwedding with a fairytale-esque happily ever?”

“Right, right, yes. Yes, ofcourse,” Jackson finally seems to snap out of it, leaning forwards to leave aquick peck on Mark’s cheek. Mark releases Jackson’s wrist, satisfied, but realizeshe’s relaxed too soon when Jackson’s eyes land on the Heelys he still has ineach hand.

This time, however, it’s notfervent pleas or excited hoots. No, Jackson is staring at him with those eyes,the sad, puppy dog eyes with his eyelashes fluttering and his lips pushed intoa pout.

It’s an all around disgustingexpression to see on a grown man’s face, but Mark is just so, so weak.

“Jackson… those aren’t even in yoursize….” Mark gives it one last, feeble attempt, but Jackson holds on strong,and Mark can feel his resolve crumbling to the ground.

“Jacksonnnnnn,” Mark groans, handscovering his face as he gives up. “I swear to god, if we can’t find Heelys inyour size, we are not delaying the wedding.”

“What if we can’t find Heelys in yoursize?” Jackson responds cheekily, finally dropping the shoes to pry Mark’shands off his face, grin so wide Mark’s afraid his face will split.

Mark finally explodes.

“I am NOT getting Heelys! And I amNOT rolling down the aisle in them!”

~~

Fortunately, their wedding does notget postponed.

Unfortunately, they do end uppurchasing a pair of Heelys.

Fortunately, they are not inJackson’s size.

Unfortunately, they fit Markperfectly.

“I’m going to die, I’m literallygoing to die. There’s going to be tiny crease in the carpet and then I’m goingto slip on it and hit my head and then bleed out on the aisle of my very ownwedding.”

Mark is usually a laid back, calm,and collected person. Clearly, all the above traits have deserted himcompletely on the day of his wedding, moments before he’s supposed to walk, no,roll down the aisle to meet his fiancé, soon-to-behusband.

Except Jackson will never evenbecome his husband if Mark’s brains end up splattered all over floor insteadwhen he trips and falls and oh godit’s time.

When Mark steps out onto the aisle,there are cheers, there are gasps, there are sniffles and sobs. The church hasbeen decorated beautifully - the tall, vaulted ceilings and the wide, brightwindows allow the space to be flooded with light that hits every flower, everyface, every figure just right to make everything picture perfect.

But Mark takes none of it in, heartpounding in his chest as he puts one foot in front of the other, dreading thelast few feet where he’s promised, and even practiced, to rolltowards the pew.

Mark trips.

There isn’t a small bump in thecarpet, or even a stray flower petal. Mark has managed to trip on air, or atleast some unseen, foreign substance, and Mark is ready for the end.

And yet, he doesn’t crack his headopen.

Instead, he falls into strong, warmarms, and when he looks up, is greeted by familiar starstruck eyes that manageto reflect his own awe.

The guests all cheer, somestanding, some clapping, but again, Mark doesn’t hear them, unable to resistleaping forwards to capture Jackson’s lips in a premature kiss.

~~

“We’retrying, okay, we’re trying. But we didn’t - power didn’t completely - enoughtime - delete the - hasn’t - it - ch - tttssssss-”

Jaebum grimaced, dropping hiswalkie back into his pocket, fully muffling the static-y voices. Not that itmattered much, given he wasn’t able to understand the words being spoken eitherway. The reception was absolutely terrible within these thick, concrete walls.

“Mmmmmph! Mmph mph mphhhh! MMPH!”

Jaebum’s frown deepened into ascowl as he turned his attention to the gagged man on the other side of theroom, though the cap pulled low on his face probably didn’t allow hisdispleasure to be fully communicated to his captive.

The other man was young, strong,and stockily built, having put up quite the resistance in their tussle not toolong ago. If his security guard uniform was anything to go by, he’d probablybeen trained to deal with such situations.

Jaebum’s greater height gave himthe ultimate advantage, however, allowing him to snag a laptop charger off atop cabinet shelf and deftly wrap it around the other man’s neck, securing himinto a chokehold.

The struggle had ended promptlythereafter, and Jaebum, inspired by his apparent stroke of genius, took tofully restraining his new hostage with whatever wires and electrical cording hecould find in the small office they were in.

Oh, and stuffed a sock in the guy’smouth for good measure, too, because god did he not know how to shut up.

And that was ten minutes ago. Now,Jaebum was only becoming increasingly impatient. Taking a hostage hadn’t beenin the original plan, so clearly something had gone wrong. Jaebum was supposedto be helping to secure their exit, not stuck here babysitting this -

“MMMMMMPHHHHHHAAA! BLEH!”

His hostage finally managed todislodge the sock from his mouth, visibly wincing as he spat loudly. Jaebum’sexpression darkened, already contemplating taking off his other sock, (he wouldnot be touching the one that had saliva all over it),when the man spoke.

“Dude, what the hell? That wasgross! If you’re gonna gag me at least use something clean! That tasted sogross, man!”

“If you were able to keep yourmouth shut to begin with, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such measures,”Jaebum growled as he advanced forward menacingly, raising a hand for purpose ofintimidation.

“Aw, man, that’s so mean! I wasjust asking some questions– ohhh whoaaaaa. Whoa. Holy shit.”

The other man suddenly broke off,his already large eyes widening even further as he stared up at Jaebum, who’dcrossed the room towards him and consequently stepped into the light. For thefirst time, his features were clearly illuminated, and Jaebum tensed, his jawlocked and ready to face further resistance.

Instead, he almost choked on air atthe man’s next words.

“DUDE your face is a masterpiece!”

“…What?”Jaebum didn’t even know what that meant, almost swinging his fist at the guy’s facebecause what the hell even, but forced himself to pause when he was confrontedby furious headshaking.

“No like, seriously! How do youeven look like that? Are you sure you’re not a celebrity or something? And yourjawline is unreal!”

For the first time in a long time,Jaebum was completely flabbergasted. By a hostage, at that. Ittook him more than a few seconds to find his voice again, and even longer tofind words.

“What is wrong withyou? Are you an idiot?”

“I’m Jackson! Jackson Wang,actually!” The hostage, Jackson, responded enthusiastically, having the audacity toshoot Jaebum a wink. “Nice of you to ask. And actually, yes, the only thingwrong with me right now is my circulation might be getting cut off by thesecords of yours.”

He turned slightly to show off hiswrists that were twisted behind his back, wriggling his fingers.

“Don’t get me wrong, wouldn’t wantto get in the way of doing your job and all, Mr. Jawline, totally understandthat you had to tie me up for very important reasons. Could you just loosenthem a little bit, though?”

He blinked up at Jaebum innocently,cocking his head when he earned no verbal response.

“Oh come on, just a titch? Just ateensie eensie bit?”

Jaebum took a deep breath, countingdown from ten in his head so he didn’t accidently murderthis infuriating bastard. Don’tlose it, Jaebum, the gang needs a bargaining chip that’s alive.

“You do realize that I’m holdingyou hostage, right? That I couldn’t give a flying fuck about your comfort? ThatI could literally -” Jaebum grit his teeth, reaching down to lift Jackson up byhis collar, slamming his back into wall, “kill you right now?”

“Ohhh, kinky,” Jackson grimacedslightly when his head rebounded off the wall with a painful thud, but was backto grinning almost instantly. He even went slightly cross-eyed in order tomaintain eye contact with Jaebum, whose face was now mere inches away from hisown. “You know actually, if you’re gonna stay this close to me, I think I’d befine with these cords as long as-”

“Oh what the fuck,” Jaebumhissed, shoving Jackson off to the side as he stepped back with a look ofdisgust of on his face. Kicking off his shoe, Jaebum reached down, intent onremoving his other sock because clearly he was dealing with a total incompetentdumbass, and attempting to speak with him any more was only going to spike hisblood pressure.

“Oh, dude, no, please, not anothersock!” Jackson wailed, his irritating voice sounding much closer to a whinethan fearful begging. “Oh come on, please? Oh oh, I have a better idea! Ifyou’re gonna gag me, can you just take off your shirt and use that? You’vegotta have a killer bod, right? So no need to be shy, come on!”

Having already yanked his sock off,Jaebum snarled, moving forward with a vengeful rage when suddenly, his phonewent off.

Jaebum froze, sock still clutchedin hand before he finally exhaled deeply, retreating to the far end of the roomwith surprising swiftness as his phone was retrieved from his back pocket.

“Hello? What’s -”

“Get out, now. Forget the hostage,we have what we need and police are surrounding the premises, just get out now!”

“But where -”

Jaebum swore loudly when a telltaleclick signaled the other side hanging up, but he didn’t waste any timeattempting to redial.

Shit he needed his own way out, and if police were already surroundingthe premises he needed some way to slip through undetected. Almost immediately,he started running through his options, eyes scanning the room for anythingthat could be useful.

Eyes landing on Jackson, an ideastruck him, and for the first time, Jaebum returned Jackson’s grin with one ofhis own. He strode towards him briskly, whipping out the small army knife hekept in his other back pocket.

Jackson didn’t seem to notice theweapon, appearing simply starstruck at the appearance of Jaebum’s smile.

“Whoa, dude, you should smile moreoften, it’s quite- WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Jackson let out a muffled shriek,Jaebum pressing a palm against his mouth just in time to block most of thesound. Immediately, Jackson’s hands were on Jaebum’s own, his eyes wide.

Jaebum had cut his bonds, and wasnow busy tugging off his outer clothing. His button-up was off within seconds,and Jaebum’s efficiency ensured his undershirt followed shortly after.

“Whoa, whoa, aren’t we moving a bitfast here?” Jackson babbled as Jaebum went for his belt next, but didn’t resistdue to the cold blade pressed to the side of his throat. “Like, shouldn’t youtell me your name first, at least? Isn’t that basic etiquette?”

Jaebum didn’t respond, directingall his attention towards stripping Jackson down. There was a large amount offumbling, but the knife pressed against Jackson’s skin never wavered.

“Oh come on, now you won’t eventalk to me? You’re just gonna - hey, hey, I thought we were over the bondage!”

Having stripped Jackson down topretty much just his underwear, Jaebum quickly restrained him once more withthe cords, shoving him off to the side when he finished.

“Aww, really? You’re just going toleave me here? Naked?”

Jaebum couldn’t help but smirk ashe pulled off his own clothes, switching into Jackson’s uniform instead. It wasa tight fit, and the pants were definitely too short, but it’d do - no oneshould question a security guard wearing the company badge.

“You’ve got your underwear, haven’tyou? You’ve got quite the killer bod yourself, so no need to be shy, right?”Jaebum didn’t even try to keep the smugness out of his voice, mood instantlylifted by Jackson’s pitiful state.

Jaebum gathered his own clothesnext, stuffing them into his pack, and therefore missed the mischievous gleamthat lit up in Jackson’s eyes.

“Why, thank you. Does that count asyou flirting back, Mr. Jawline?”

Jaebum snorted, striding towardsthe door to make his leave without a single backwards glance.

By the time the door finally swungto a close, Jaebum was already halfway down the hall. So the faint “Call me!”that was yelled out right before it clicked shut just barely made it toJaebum’s ears.

He’d merely scoffed, shaking hishead as he broke into a determined sprint.

~~

Just as Jaebum predicted, slippingthrough the crowd of police had been a piece of cake with his security guardgetup. Arriving back at their base was easy enough after that, and Jaebum wasrelieved to find out that despite the many hiccups along the way, the heist hadbeen an overall success.

It wasn’t until much later, aftermany hours of drunken celebration and feasting, that Jaebum finally returnedhome to his apartment, slipping off his shoes to find a tiny slip of paperflutter up and out of the left heel.

It was a haphazardly folded note, with equally haphazard handwriting that was still somehow legible.

First, a series of digits that wereclearly a phone number. Then, a signature:

~ JW :)

~~

It started with an innocent online order.

Jackson recently moved across town to a new place, one that offered him more rooms and space than he ever could have imagined. From a home office to a finished basement, he had room for everything he needed and then some; being a single homeowner certainly had its perks. While he spent his days working from home, chattering away on his phone to make business deals as quickly as possible, Jackson preferred the excitement of the city at night, making plans to meet up with friends and get out of the house as soon as his to-do list was done for the day. Once he had found a cute guy to go home with for the evening, Jackson felt totally accomplished, loving that he could have it all, from work to play and everything inbetween.

With new homeownership came the process of purchasing and sometimes replacing old household appliances, old hand-me-downs no longer cutting it in such a large space since Jackson had left the apartment life behind. The most recent purchase he placed was for a new vacuum, one that could handle the few carpeted areas more quickly than the older model his parents had lovingly gifted him when he moved out after completing school. While the old object was heavy and required a bag for use, the new version he selected was sleek and bagless with electric green accents, giving Jackson a sense of excitement to clean that he never had before.

As the tracking stated, his order was to arrive later that afternoon, Jackson enjoying a brief lunch in front of his television as he heard a large diesel truck brake along the curb in front of his home. Holding in some of his excitement, Jackson remained seated until a rapid series of loud knocks sounded from the front door, the man squealing to himself as he jumped up and rushed over to answer it. Swinging open the wooden door, Jackson was surprised to see a man a few inches taller than him but around the same age typing away on a small electronic device, dark strands of hair falling over his forehead as he worked next to a tall brown cardboard box.

“Jackson Wang, I need you to sign here,” the worker held the device closer to him, handing him a bright yellow stylus to jot his signature down with, Jackson doing exactly as he said.

“Thank you so much,” Jackson beamed, hoping to get a better view of the gentleman’s face, pleased when he looked up after snapping the stylus back into the side of the device.

“You’re welcome,” the man smiled wide, crinkles framing his eyes as he offered a slight bow. “Have a great day.”

Watching as the delivery man walked back to his truck, Jackson couldn’t help but look him up and down, admiring the snug fit of his brown uniform, short-sleeved button-down tucked neatly into a pair of shorts that hit just above the knee. Things started to move in slow motion as Jackson observed the best part of his backside: the perfect curve of his ass in the tight-fitting article of clothing, something Jackson wouldn’t be able to get off of his mind easily. Unfortunately, before Jackson could snap himself back to reality and ask for the other’s name, the delivery man was already back in the front seat of his vehicle, switching it into gear before continuing on his path down the street. With a defeated sigh, Jackson dragged his most recent purchase inside, placing it in the living room before beginning to open and assemble the item, still feeling preoccupied from the excellent view offered as he had walked away.

The next day, Jackson did what any well-adjusted member of society would have done in his case by taking his lunch at the same exact time his delivery was made the day prior, staking out the front window in case any nearby neighbors were getting a delivery of their own. Unfortunately for the man, the truck never made an appearance, forcing Jackson to sulk and return to his work unfulfilled before thinking of the next best way to gather the information he so desperately wanted. With the customer service number dialed, Jackson waited on the line for the next available representative, keeping his tracking number and address nearby. After a few minutes, he was finally connected, letting out a sigh of relief as soon as the operator on the other line answered.

“Yes, hi, I need assistance with an order that was delivered yesterday,” Jackson explained. “I have the tracking number here for reference.”

“Of course, sir,” the operator acknowledged. “Go ahead and read me the sequence and we’ll go from there.”

Once the number had been rambled off, Jackson waited for it to be verified, perking up as soon as the woman on the other line spoke again.

“Alright, sir,” she began, “I have everything about the delivery listed here. What I can I help you with today?”

“Well, you see,” Jackson chuckled to himself, “I had the package delivered and the entire experience was… well, how can I say this appropriately?”

“Sir, did you have any issues with the delivery?” The operator took a more serious tone, Jackson could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the background. “If you have any concerns or comments about your level of satisfaction, please let me know so I can assist you in the best way possible.”

“Can I just get his name?” Jackson asked, trying to be more direct in his request. “The name of the delivery guy, that’s all I need and then I’ll feel slightly more satisfied.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wang, but I’m afraid I cannot provide that information,” the operator clarified, dashing Jackson’s hopes with a single statement. “However, if there were any problems with the service you received or if you have any general comments, I can pass those along to the appropriate departments.”

“Well, you see…” Jackson sighed, closing his eyes, the recent image of the other man’s backside slowly walking away from him replaying in his mind. “He looked… so good in his uniform.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that information along to our internal staff here,” the operator deadpanned in the most professional way possible. “Anything else I can assist you with today?”

“No,” Jackson sighed, defeated by what seemed to be the easiest way to get the only thing he wanted. “Thanks.”

Hanging up his phone and tossing it back onto his desk, Jackson sighed even more dramatically as he thought about the man he knew nothing about. He had to have been just under six feet tall, brown hair and dark eyes, soft pink lips that curved into an adorable smile. Unfortunately, beyond his smooth voice and ample backside, Jackson knew nothing else, somehow resorting to light stalking to even get a first or last name. It was unlike him to pursue someone so heavily when it had only been a brief connection; usually Jackson was good at letting go or reconnecting wherever time and space took him. But there was something about the uniformed worker that drove him crazy, perhaps it was the mystery behind knowing nothing about him or the physical uniform itself. Either way, Jackson didn’t feel like giving up quite yet, letting himself get back to work and shelving a brainstorming session for his next steps later on that night.

Once in bed after washing his face and brushing his teeth, Jackson turned on the television, letting it play softly in the background as he played around on his phone. He thought about the strange twist of fate that ordering a simple package had turned his mind upside down in such a short period of time before realizing that the answer to his problem had been right there all along. If he wanted to see the other man, he should repeat the process, giving him a chance to appear at his doorstep again. Scrambling to climb out of his sheets and bring his laptop back into bed with him, Jackson began frantically pulling up websites of all different kinds, looking at wishlists he had half-heartedly compiled before beginning to make random orders of all shapes and sizes, hoping that at least one of them would bring the same delivery guy back around. Even if he only saw him for a passing moment, it would be enough to get his name and to Jackson, it was well worth the cost of all the things he suddenly convinced himself he needed.

The first packaged arrived less than three days later, Jackson completely heartbroken when he realized he got anything at all, never hearing the truck even come down the street, let alone having a knock on the door to acknowledge that something was delivered. As he gathered his mail from the box outside, the lonely package remained near the front door, Jackson scoffing before picking it up quickly, rushing back inside to check the status of his various other tracking codes. According to his list, the next few days would have one delivery each, giving Jackson enough opportunities to finally act on his feelings. The plan had seemed ridiculous at the beginning and was starting off on shaky ground, but Jackson had faith it would result in something worthwhile, happily placing his unopened delivery on his dining room table before heading to his room for the night.

Unfortunately, the next delivery was the same, Jackson too slow to realize what was happening before he was swinging the front door open, watching as the other man took two steps into his vehicle before speeding off, Jackson cursing under his breath and wondering if complaining about the speed of said truck on his suburban street would be enough to get the name from customer service. Quickly dismissing the idea of getting the other man in trouble, Jackson sulked back inside, finishing his quick meal before joining his next business call with a coworker to go over some documents and forms that were a new requirement for their department.

“Yugyeom, do you believe at love at first sight?”

The man on the other end of the line sighed deeply, out of either pity or annoyance, clearly used to Jackson’s unusual ways to begin a professional call.

“I guess it depends,” Yugyeom replied, causing Jackson to scoff at the avoidance of a real answer.

“Depends on what?” Jackson asked. “Love at first sight is pretty specific.”

“Well, is there a chance you’ll see that person again?” Yugyeom tried to clarify. “If there’s a chance and you’re determined, I could see it being considered love at first sight.”

“You’re making this so complicated,” Jackson rolled his eyes, unsatisfied at the insights he was receiving from his friend. “A simple yes or no would have sufficed.”

“Jackson, did you fall in love at first sight?” Yugyeom finally asked, giving into exactly what Jackson wanted to hear.

“Maybe,” Jackson giggled softly, spinning from side to side in his desk chair. “It’s my delivery guy.”

“What, like the mailman?” Yugyeom laughed, causing Jackson to frown.

“No!” Jackson argued, standing up suddenly behind his desk. “It was this really hot guy with this gentle voice and his face got all crinkly when he smiled… did I mention the tight shorts that are part of his uniform?”

“Are you trying to tell me you saw a hot guy with a nice ass deliver some box to you and now you’re in love?” Yugyeom teased, always taking advantage of making fun of his older friends. “I think that’s called lust at first sight.”

“How dare you trivialize my feelings!” Jackson whined, hitting his desk with his palm for emphasis. “He could be my next great love!”

“I hate to even ask if we’re going to talk about the new reporting system,” Yugyeom interjected, “but can we move on to business-related affairs?”

“Fine,” Jackson plopped back into his chair, pulling up the relevant documents on his computer. “But… one more thing?”

“What is it?” Yugyeom sighed, obviously ready to put the entire conversation in the past.

“Is it really so bad that I want to unwrap his package?”

In a fit of giggles, Jackson heard the other line go dead, Yugyeom leaving him to deal with learning the new system (and his childish crush) all on his own.

For the next delivery, Jackson figured out a more direct approach to get his answer, setting up a small folding chair and side table to enjoy his lunch outside in his front yard, guaranteeing that Jinyoung would have to walk past him with his ordered items. While lounging in his chair and eating whatever he could find in his fridge, Jackson was more than thrilled as he heard the familiar sounds of the delivery truck rounding the corner, brakes squeaking as the man shifted the vehicle in park on the street in front of his house. Fetching a box from the side of his seat, the delivery man hopped out, rushing up to Jackson’s door with his head down, looking up at meeting Jackson’s line of sight as he neared the house, slowing down in order to hand the package to Jackson directly.

“Here you are, sir,” the other man nodded, smiling softly as Jackson took the small box before turning to leave. “Have a nice day!”

“Wait!” Jackson shouted to stop him in his tracks, watching as his perfect backside turned to face him again. “You can’t leave just yet.”

“I have a schedule to keep,” he replied. “Is there something else you need assistance with?”

Getting up from his seat, Jackson took a few steps closer, happy that the other didn’t seem to want to run away from such a random encounter.

“You know my name, but I don’t know yours,” Jackson smiled, putting on his best charms. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s Jinyoung,” he smiled back, offering another nod before breaking into a sprint back to his truck, Jackson shamelessly watching his lower half as he jogged away and hopped in the front seat, waving ever so slightly as he drove away.

Satisfied that he finally got his answer he had been looking for, Jackson packed up his makeshift patio setup, repeating the name over and over again to himself until the word turned to gibberish.

Jackson [2:07 PM]

Jinyoung!

Yugyeom [2:08 PM]

Uh wrong number

Jackson [2:08 PM]

That’s his name! The delivery man with the perfect ass!

Yugyeom [2:11 PM]

Good job, bro. Jinyoung who?

Jackson [2:11 PM]

I just said… the delivery guy…

Yugyeom [2:15 PM]

You only got half of his name? You’re an amateur.

Jackson [2:15 PM]

…shut up 😓

Dismayed once again by his short-lived victory, Jackson found himself out of things to buy, already ignoring the embarrassing cluster of boxes and packing peanuts taking up half of his little-used dining room. It had been a week since learning Jinyoung’s name and Jackson had come up empty on finding anything more about the other man. From searching professional sites to social media, he couldn’t piece together enough unique keywords to locate the Jinyoung he had found something special in from only two short conversations. Frustration began to set in as the random man with only half a name couldn’t leave Jackson’s brain even at night, explicit images of what may be hiding underneath his uniform entertaining Jackson in his dreams.

Becoming sick and tired of trying to find out more with such little information, Jackson went back to the day he had met Jinyoung, remembering that he could manage to spend an extra moment of his time as long as he had to gather a signature from Jackson in order to leave his purchase, leading Jackson to wonder: what other large items could he possibly need in order to get a few minutes of Jinyoung’s precious time? A quick walk-through of his home didn’t show anything blatantly obvious; everything that was completely necessary had already been bought and installed, leaving him little room to convince himself of anything to buy. But once Jackson made his way to his bedroom, he had convinced himself the lighting certainly wouldn’t do, scoffing audibly at the short stubby table lamp on his nightstand. Pulling his laptop from his desk and into his lap moments later, two large modern LED lamps were ordered, Jackson completely content at the shipping note that appeared, indicating that he may have to sign for the item due to size, weight and total cost.

Jackpot.

Every day that passed up until the date of the promised delivery felt like a lifetime to Jackson, the usually energetic blond turning down invitations from his friends, preferring to stay in and get ahead on all the work he had been procrastinating on during the days he spent lurking for more information on Jinyoung. He knew he was being irrational and ridiculous for placing so much importance on a person he didn’t know anything about, but Jackson was reckless and impulsive when it came to love, latching on at random times for what seemed to be no reason at all. When he thought about the delivery man tucked into bed at night, the only things that bounced back and forth within his mind were his name and his perfectly-shaped ass, two things that Jackson felt happy knowing, but not enough to let him rest well.

The morning of the promised delivery, Jackson felt like a kid waking up on Christmas morning, springing out of bed and preparing himself a complete breakfast before showering and getting straight to work, knowing that even if he found himself completely lost in a spreadsheet or immersed in an e-mail draft, the firm knock at the door would alert him to Jinyoung’s arrival, Jackson dressed in his favorite black pants and lucky black t-shirt to hopefully seal the deal. Jackson didn’t know if it was the mystery or the promise of what could be that kept him so interested, but without taking every chance he had up until that point, he would never forgive himself for letting the opportunity to get to know the man with the best ass slip away from him.

Unfortunately for Jackson, the usual time he received deliveries from Jinyoung came and went without any sign of the big brown truck that usually signaled his arrival, leaving Jackson nervous and upset that there had been a mistake. Even after he considered his work day done, nothing had come to his door, forcing Jackson to see if the tracking was as accurate as it claimed to be. Even worse, the website had updated the status to ‘Delivered,’ a statement listed below that ‘Customer signed for package upon delivery.’

Jackson couldn’t believe that he would actually have to contact customer service with a real complaint, lucky enough to have learned Jinyoung’s name in time to turn him in for delaying his delivery. It was around 7 P.M. and Jackson tried his best to let his hopes go that he would see the other man with a big package or two at his doorstep, preferring to text Yugyeom to see what he would be up to that night. If anything could erase the disappointment of his delivery getting lost in the system and Jinyoung being a no-show, it would be spending time with drinks that were strong and friends who loved him.

However, just as he was about to agree to a time to be picked up by Yugyeom, there was a familiar firm knock at the door, one that strangely resembled the one first heard the day he met Jinyoung. Jackson tried his hardest to not get his hopes up as he slowly approached the door, the knocking happening again with a soft shout of ‘delivery!’ coming directly after. Opening the door slowly, Jackson couldn’t help but smile wide as he saw Jinyoung waiting in his perfect uniform, no box or hand-held device to be found.

“Hey,” Jackson stated, standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “I thought I was going to have to call in a complaint. You should have been here hours ago, the item was marked as delivered…”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wang,” Jinyoung replied with a bow and a small smile. “There was a mixup on the truck and I pulled some muscle in my side, I’m having a bit of trouble getting people their things on time today and for that, I apologize.”

“First of all, you can call me Jackson, I know you’ve seen my name a million times the past month,” Jackson cracked, giggling softly. “Secondly, you’re in luck. I’m the strongest guy on the block, I can totally help you get my packages off the truck.”

“Well, Jackson, that would be really great of you,” Jinyoung smiled a little brighter, motioning to follow him back to get the boxes from the truck. “Right this way.”

With a smile, Jackson followed close behind, chattering away about what a nice night it was, casually discussing how he didn’t get out of the house much that day because of a heavy work schedule and anything else that came to mind in the few moments it took to walk to the truck and climb inside. As promised, Jackson’s packages were some of the last around besides what seemed to be others that weren’t able to be delivered that day, Jackson too nosy to not read the labels himself.

“Office paper,” Jinyoung explained, shrugging as Jackson continued to analyze them for whatever reason. “Apparently, some people took today off and didn’t bother to tell us to hold their packages.”

“Is this what you hurt yourself on?” Jackson asked, suddenly concerned as he made his way over to Jinyoung who was standing near what happened to be the ones of his own. “You had to load these off and back on the truck because they couldn’t answer the door? How rude!”

“Well, not exactly,” Jinyoung chuckled, walking over and casually shutting the back door of the truck, leaving him and Jackson secluded inside before walking back over to where the blond stood. “I lied, Jackson.”

“You… lied?” Jackson found himself suddenly panicking, worried that he assumed too many kind things about the nice delivery man with an excellent butt, hoping he wasn’t about to turn on him so easily. “You said you were hurt, I don’t mind helping you with the packages…”

“I’m not hurt,” Jinyoung replied, moving back towards Jackson as he backed himself against the wall of the truck, suddenly pinned against it with nowhere else to go. “Do you really think I let just any kind of customer into my truck without having a very special reason for it?”

“W-well,” Jackson stuttered, unsure if the scene should have been turning him on or not, “what kind of reason do you have for inviting me back here?”

“I think you can guess why,” Jinyoung smirked, the crinkles that usually came with his smile suddenly present again. Jackson studied his face, watching as Jinyoung placed a hand next to Jackson’s head against the side of the truck, keeping him in place as their eyes met. The truck had to be one of the least romantic settings for his confession, but Jackson had to make his move as he usually did, swallowing deeply before clearing his throat.

“Will you still want to talk to me if I make a bad pun about packages?” Jackson asked, all of a sudden questioning his skills in speaking to attractive men.

“Does it have to do with needing help with yours?” Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, quick to pick up on what Jackson was putting down.

“Of course,” Jackson squeaked out nervously, licking his lips, “and maybe I could, you know, make a delivery of my own-”

Before Jackson could finish his clumsy thought, Jinyoung took the initiative Jackson was apparently too shy to make, pressing his lips against his in a rush, his body pushing Jackson back against the wall of the truck. It was slightly muggy and smelled of old plastic and rust, but Jackson didn’t care, his body able to make up for what his words couldn’t as his arms wrapped around Jinyoung tight. His body was more muscular than anticipated, arms firm and shoulders broad, Jackson sliding his hands down to hold his slim waist in place as they continued to make out in the semi-empty space. It felt scandalous to do such things in what could be considered Jinyoung’s place of business, but the same could be said of Jackson’s house, so what difference would it make?

Finally bold enough to make the move he had been holding back on, Jackson dipped his hands lower, firmly grasping Jinyoung’s ass with both of his hands, massaging it gently through the thick fabric. Firm, yet squishy, Jackson felt himself harden at the thought of seeing Jinyoung without the tailored shorts on, reaching around the front to fiddle with his belt. Amused by the quick decision process Jackson seemed to be making, Jinyoung broke the kiss only to help him with the buckle and front buttons of his shirt, discarding Jackson’s lucky black t-shirt from over his head next. As he looked Jackson’s torso from top to bottom, Jinyoung couldn’t help but let out a tiny gasp, Jackson smirking at the other’s realization that he was someone who took extremely good care of his body.

“So, you weren’t lying about being the strongest guy on the block, huh?” Jinyoung sighed, his own bare chest and stomach exposed from the button down hanging from his shoulders, long slender fingers working on Jackson’s snug jeans.

“Unlike you, I don’t have to lie to get what I want,” Jackson giggled, watching as Jinyoung yanked his pants down to his ankles, promptly getting down on his knees.

“Oh, yeah?” Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, hands rubbing up and down Jackson’s thighs to tease him lightly. “Tell me, how long did it take you to realize I can’t talk for more than a minute until you order something that needs a signature for delivery?”

His own scheme exposed, Jackson blushed at the realization of how silly he had been, a million different ways to get to know Jinyoung suddenly rushing to the front of his brain when they were no longer needed. Of course, Jackson had to act in his own way to get what he wanted, each purchase apparently a little white lie that showed Jinyoung he was interested, obviously picking up on the fact that Jackson had an usual way of showing that he liked what he saw.

“Too long,” Jackson sighed, voice cracking as Jinyoung lapped at his dick through the thin cotton of his briefs, too impatient to wait for Jackson’s next curated set of explanations. It seemed as if Jinyoung had been impatient waiting for this himself, teasing Jackson even more with his tongue before pulling his underwear down to his ankles, giving his cock a few firm strokes. If Jackson was being honest with himself, getting blown by the delivery guy in the back of his truck never crossed his mind. However, he couldn’t complain about the skill Jinyoung displayed as he took his dick into his mouth even deeper, a low moan leaving his lips.

“S’good…” Jackson mumbled, fingers sliding through Jinyoung’s soft locks. “Fuck, you’re good…”

Apparently amused by the lack of control Jackson had at that point, Jinyoung continued on, hands still softly rubbing up and down Jackson’s thighs, eyes gazing up at the blond who could barely hold eye contact long enough for any sense of connection to be made. Clearly, the delivery man held some strange power over him, causing him to slip into a pleasurable haze, Jinyoung’s talented mouth and tongue too much to handle.

“S-stop!” Jackson breathed, watching as Jinyoung pulled off, wiping his mouth gracefully as he continued to hold onto Jackson’s hips.

“Something wrong?” Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrowed, a sense of confusion falling over the situation. “I’m sorry if I was doing too much…”

“No, no,” Jackson laughed, slightly out of breath. “Just didn’t want to… you know…”

With a clumsy charade of him jacking off, Jinyoung got the picture, the two of them sharing a laugh, Jackson admiring the adorable way Jinyoung hid his smile but didn’t bother concealing his audacious laugh. If it weren’t for the dimly lit interior of the dusty metal truck, Jackson could call it all romantic, finally getting to the bottom of what Yugyeom determined was lust at first sight.

“I hate to ask you this but,” Jackson bit his lip, nudging Jinyoung to stand up, “if we want things to continue and if I’m reading all the signs correctly, I’m going to need… things. For you, for me. You know? Things that make things… easier? Safer. You know…”

“I know,” Jinyoung smiled, taking a few steps to reach into the storage compartment of the center console, grabbing a few things before passing them to Jackson, the shorter man pleased to know that at least one of them came prepared.

“Is this an invitation?” Jackson joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s more of a demand,” Jinyoung countered, kissing Jackson as he worked on sliding his shorts off, letting his underwear fall away with them. “Fuck me?”

Jackson no longer felt lost in the haze of what was about to happen, gladly finishing undressing them down to nothing but socks and shoes, Jinyoung mumbling something about keeping them on if they knew what was good for them. Disregarding the fact that the only box big enough to support the both of them would eventually have to be delivered, Jackson watched as Jinyoung lounged back on the package of office paper, legs spread obscenely as if his verbal invitation wasn’t enough. Making sure his stash of supplies was nearby, Jackson dropped to his knees in front of the box, opening up the tiny bottle of lube that Jinyoung apparently kept on-hand as a necessity during his route. Spreading some along his fingers, Jackson carefully gave Jinyoung’s erection some much needed attention, before sliding his hand down lower, slicking up the other’s entrance as his fingers slipped inside carefully one by one.

If Jackson wasn’t already in love with what he thought Jinyoung was, the sounds the other man solidified his feelings, the soft sighs and subtle whines music to Jackson’s ears. While it was becoming clear that Jinyoung did like to have some control over a situation, Jackson appreciated the way he melted into whatever Jackson did, from stroking his dick to the rhythm of his fingers preparing him for what was next. In a way, it was a perfect balance of everything Jackson saw in himself: one way to the world, another in private.

“I’m ready, Jackson,” Jinyoung mumbled, whimpering quietly as Jackson removed his fingers carefully, locating the condom Jinyoung had retrieved for his use, tearing it open with his teeth before sliding it on. Using some creativity, Jackson positioned himself over Jinyoung in the center of the box, offering another passionate kiss as he pressed his cock inside the other man, taking an extremely slow start to ease away any inhibitions still held between them. It was clunky and the atmosphere was anything but romantic, but once Jackson began to thrust at a steady pace, all of the awkward tension still in the air evaporated to leave them both with nothing but shared pleasure.

Jinyoung looked beautiful below him, sprawled out with his legs bent back exactly where he needed them to be, but Jackson wasn’t completely satisfied, his mind hinting at the thought of turning the other man around, needing to see his best assets at a time like this. Pulling out to a dissatisfied whine from Jinyoung, Jackson quieted him with a kiss mumbling to turn around and bend over the box instead, the other man complying easily. While he certainly was obedient to Jackson’s suggestions, Jinyoung had a way to tease and flirt throughout the entire process, making sure that Jackson knew that even Jinyoung knew what his best asset had to be, slowly folding his body over the edge of the package, arching his back to give Jackson the best view possible.

“So needy…” Jackson couldn’t help himself, hands back to gripping the plump bottom of the other man before resuming reentering and building back to his original rhythm. It was the perfect view: milky skin dampened with a sheen of sweat bent over in front of him, voice begging for more as the only sound echoing in the metal box of the vehicle was skin on skin. It wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t ideal, but it felt like a dream come true, Jackson groaning as he held onto Jinyoung’s slim sides, holding him into place as he practically fucked him into the box, no longer caring what bodily fluids might accidentally leave permanent damage to the outside. If Jinyoung didn’t care, neither would he, letting himself go with the flow of Jinyoung subtle demands, listening every time he begged for it to be faster or harder, smirking as the other man even asked to be spanked.

“P-please…” Jinyoung moaned, hands gripping the edge of the cardboard for stability. “Do it… I want it…”

“Say it,” Jackson sighed, hand rubbing the right side of Jinyoung’s ass, knowing he couldn’t tease him for too much longer, already close enough by all that had happened. “I want to hear it clearly, Jinyoung.”

“Spank me!” Jinyoung whined, Jackson delighted by the way the other man begged for whatever he wanted, even in the back of his work vehicle. “Please, don’t make me say it again…”

“Whatever you say,” Jackson grinned, complying with the other’s wishes as he thrusted more, spanking him a few times as they continued, Jinyoung’s pleasing moans only pushing him closer to the edge. Needing to switch up the angle again, Jackson paused only to move Jinyoung back to their original position, this time holding both of Jinyoung’s legs back completely pounding into him harder than ever before.

“G-gonna… so close, Jackson,” Jinyoung whimpered, already sounding completely spent. “Right there, oh god, please!”

With only a few more strokes, Jinyoung came completely undone beneath Jackson, the blond pushing himself only a moment longer before finishing himself, pulling out and removing the condom, tying it off and tossing it to the side with everything else he had to dispose of. As he watched Jinyoung remain sprawled back against the box that had no business being the first place they should have fucked, Jackson took the initiative to go up to the compartment from which Jinyoung pulled his supplies, finding a stack of napkins he brought over to clean Jinyoung up. As he carefully wiped their stomachs and chests clean, their eyes met, both men sharing a gentle smile and laugh before Jackson leaned down, kissing Jinyoung softly as he sat on the edge of the package.

“So,” Jinyoung smiled, sitting up to join the other man again, “can we start making time to get to know each other instead of using extreme excuses to get what we want?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jackson feigned ignorance, giggling as he shrugged. “I totally needed everything I’ve ordered the past month.”

“I’m sure you did,” Jinyoung agreed, laughing under his breath. “If you invited me inside, I wouldn’t stumble across an embarrassing pile of items waiting to be returned?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Jackson laughed, loud voice filling the empty space. “Hey, maybe you could give me your number so I don’t have to pay attention to all of the ones I use to track this shit.”

“That could be arranged,” Jinyoung grinned, kissing Jackson once again, “Mr. Wang.”

“So professional…” Jackson leaned in closer, whispering softly into the other man’s ear, “and I wouldn’t mind if you wore that uniform outside of business hours.”

“Noted,” Jinyoung giggled, pressing another kiss to Jackson’s temple. “Still want to help me carry your boxes inside?”

“I’d be happy to,” Jackson nodded, getting up slowly to collect his clothes. “Would you have time for a glass of wine after?”

“That sounds nice,” Jinyoung smiled, picking up his underwear from the floor. “Be careful, you might just make me fall for you.”

“I bet you say that to every man you seduce in your big brown truck,” Jackson laughed, already half-dressed.

“There’s only one I’ve ever made time for,” Jinyoung smiled, re-buttoning his top. “It’s a shame that skipping a delivery is frowned upon, but I think the office that needed this paper will understand us shipping back a damaged package…”

Both of them turned to look back at the bent corners and questionable damp spots on the once pristine package, the two sharing a laugh before finishing redressing, carrying off Jackson’s final purchases and locking up the truck before heading inside.