been you | mt+ijb ✓

05

"Mark?" Jaebum just about yells into the phone when he's redirected to voicemail – again. "Where are you? I'm worried. Call me whenever you get this."

He shuts his phone off and sighs, running a hand through his hair in a sudden burst of frustration. Mark was supposed to meet him after school – he always does, because they walk home together every day – but today, he isn't here and it's been a good half hour since school ended. Jaebum's called him multiple times now and he hasn't picked up, either, so naturally the former is worried.

When his phone rings, breaking through the silence, it makes him jump. It's Mark.

"Hello?" he says immediately after he picks up. "Mark? Where are you? Are you – "

"Jaebum."

That's Mark's voice, but at the same time, it's not. Mark's voice is soft and bright and happy, not this watery sound that's rough around the edges; something's not right.

"Mark, where are you?" Jaebum presses. He turns on his heel, heading back into the school, hands starting to shake. "Mark, talk to me."

"The science classroom," Mark says, in that same voice, and it makes Jaebum shiver as he breaks into a run. "Can you – Jaebummie, please – "

"I'm coming," he says, feet slipping as he makes a sharp turn down the hallway. It sounds like nails scraping against a chalkboard, and he winces. "I'll be right there."

"Please," he hears Mark repeat, more to himself than to Jaebum, and he runs faster.

He skids to a stop in front of the science classroom, shoving past the door on his way in. Mark is on the floor at the other side of the room, trembling, covered with cuts and bruises. Jaebum's blood boils.

"Mark, what happened?" he demands, rushing over. He sinks onto his knees beside his friend to brush his hair out of his eyes and grab his hands. "Who did this?"

"Some seniors." Mark pulls his knees closer to his chest. "I didn't – we don't know them."

Jaebum swallows the lump in his throat. He wraps his arms around Mark's shoulders, pointedly ignoring the wetness that immediately soaks through his shirt, and forces down the urge to find those seniors and rip their throats out.

He hates that, even at sixteen, Mark is still on the receiving end of relentless bullying for who he is. Jaebum thinks it's ridiculous; Mark is the same as everyone else even if he's not native to Korea, and if anything, he's better than the boys who mess with him.

Jaebum wonders if they're jealous – of his slight American accent, of how pretty he looks when he smiles – and thinks that it's alarmingly possible that they are.

"It's okay," he hears himself say as he strokes Mark's hair, gentle. "It's okay, I'm here. They can't hurt you anymore."

I won't let them, he thinks. They're not ever going to touch you because I'm never leaving you alone again.

It's a promise.

Mark sniffles. His hands are fisted around the fabric of Jaebum's shirt. "I know," he says, although he sounds uncertain and still unlike himself.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Jaebum asks.

Mark bites his lip. "They cornered me," he murmurs, "on my way to meet you."

He stops there, but Jaebum understands; the seniors had attacked Mark without even being provoked. The realization makes Jaebum see red, growling. "I'm going to kill them," he hears himself say, although he doesn't mean to. "I'm going to fucking kill – "

"You probably shouldn't do that," Mark says, offering him a small smile. "I'll be okay."

It's his voice rather than his words that soothe Jaebum, despite the fact that Mark is really the one in need of comfort. Jaebum continues to hold him, gentle but secure, and neither of them are particularly compelled to move.

"I'm sorry," Mark says after a minute. It takes Jaebum by surprise.

"You're sorry?" he repeats in disbelief. "For what?"

"For making you worry."

Jaebum sighs and tightens his grip on his best friend because, really, that's such a Mark thing to say.

"Let's get you home," he says.