Mid Summer

twenty nine,

Somewhere on the floor above where Donghyuck was struggling to do his homework, and Jeno and Mark were cuddling, Jaemin was hunched over his laptop, fingers cramping because of how long he's been nonstop typing.

His neck hurts, and his back is in pain from being in the same position for so long. If Mark was here, he'd ask Jaemin to take a break and cuddle for a while, and if Jeno was here, he'd tell Jaemin to not stress his back because of the surgery he had a few years ago. And Donghyuck would probably leave him to rot, but we don't need to think about that.

They weren't here however, none of them, which left Jaemin, his desk, his poor desk lamp, and his laptop.

Mark has asked him if he wanted to hang out when his last class ended, had offered to treat Jaemin out to dinner.

And Jaemin wouldn't have declined if he had a choice, but his paper was due in two days, and he didn't know what he was doing. As much as it is his fault more than anyone else's, Jaemin still wishes at least one of his boyfriends were here at the moment.

But he can't dwell on that for too long, seeing as he needs to finish this stupid Anthropology paper which is apart of his stupid Anthropology class which he stupidly took because stupid Jeno said it would be fun—

And it wasn't fun.

But he shakes that thought off, blinking his eyes open and pushing his pink bangs out of his face.

Jaemin can't waste anymore time.

It was already past 12:30am anyways.

So he ignores the gnawing feeling of stress and focuses on finishing his paper, taking a sip of coffee every few minutes to keep himself awake.

And it works, it goes for about another hour, but after that, Jaemin can't remember anything, everything meshing into one thought that Jaemin can't remember.

All he remembers is waking up when it was still dark out the window, with the keyboard of his laptop imprinted onto his cheek, Mark's hand on his shoulder.

"Jae," Mark calls, and his voice sounds really soft for someone speaking at 4:38am. "Babe, lets go to bed."

The younger doesn't speak, Mark doesn't expect him to after seeing the dark circles under his boyfriend's eyes. Jaemin looks extremely tired at the moment, looks like he could fall asleep again instantly.

Mark honestly wouldn't be surprised if he did.

"Come on," Mark urges, ruffling the younger's lightly greasy pink hair, grabbing his hand. "It's not good for your back, Jeno hold me about your disc?"

Jaemin groans at that, leaning almost all of his weight onto Mark as the latter manoeuvres them towards the bed.

"Jeno doesn't shut the fuck up," he grumbles, letting Mark sit him down on the bed. "I hate him."

"You hate Lee Jeno?" Mark asks softly, smiling lightly in the darkness on their dorm. Mark must think that Jaemin can't see, but he's mistaken. The latter just decides not to speak about it. "Isn't he your boyfriend? Your first love?" He teases.

And truly, he was just teasing, Mark didn't have the intention to turn this into something bigger than it needed to be.

But then Jaemin sniffles.

And Mark doesn't know how, but he's managed to mess this up too.

What should've been a short and sweet interaction of getting them both into bed, has started to turn into something more which could only be driven by feelings blooming at 4:40am.

"What's wrong?" Mark nervously asks, sitting down beside Jaemin on the bed, careful to keep a small distance. "Is it actually about Jeno?"

In the darkness of the room, Mark can see a single tear drop from Jaemin's cheek, as it was angled down.

There first tear is followed by another, and then a third before there's a steady flow cascading down Jaemin's cheeks.

But he isn't crying, he isn't sobbing and whining and he isn't crying.

But there are tears filtering out of his eyes which twist Mark's heart in the wrong way. Mark can tell that Jaemin is sad, but that's about where it ends.

He doesn't know why, and he doesn't know how to ask why.

"Oh my God, it is about Jeno," Mark mumbles to himself, not intending for Jaemin to hear.

But at the mention of Jeno's name, the tears starts to cascade down faster, and Jaemin actually chokes out a sob, producing sound for the first time after this whole situation started.

"Jaemin? Babe, talk to me," Mark coaxes quietly, putting both his arms on Jaemin's shoulders and making the latter look at him. "What's wrong?"

Jaemin sniffles a few times before looking up at Mark, who's still looking at him with such concerned and confused eyes that another batch of tears sting behind his eyes, aching to be set free.

"M-Mark hyung," he starts, whimpering as he calls out the elder's name. "What if it doesn't work?"

Although all Mark wants to do is make Jaemin's tears stop, his question leaves the former awfully confused. As in; terribly
confused.

He wants to say that Jaemin is just stressed and that he's insanely delirious because of his lack of sleep, but he knows that isn't the case. Or at least; that can't be the case if Jaemin was going to be having a sob session at almost five in the morning.

"What?" Mark settles on blurting out, racking his mind for a follow up question so that he sounds less stupid. "What won't work?"

There's silence which consumes them after the elder asks the question, silence which Mark doesn't know if he should break, or wait for Jaemin to break it.

He doesn't get that long to think about it though, because he's suddenly hyper aware at how Jaemin lays his head on his shoulder, hands reaching out for Mark's left one.

"Us," Jaemin finally whispers, and Mark can feel the former's damp lashes against the skin of his shoulder. "The four of us."

"Don't think about that," is Mark's immediate reaction, bringing Jaemin impossibly closer, wanting to provide some sort of comfort for him. "Everything has its own pace, everything will happen when it's supposed to."

Jaemin sniffles again, bringing his arms up to loop around the elder's neck, and soon enough, Mark is shuffling him into his lap.

"Jaemin," he starts. Said boy doesn't remove his face from Mark's neck, but the latter doesn't say anything about it. "Baby, I know what you're thinking, okay? I know that Jeno and Hyuck still don't have your name and that you're freaking out because of that. I get it Jaemin."

Suddenly, Jaemin starts crying again, and Mark starts panicking because he thought he chose his words well.

"J-Jeno," he stutters out. "'M not his soulmate." He cries, tightening his already impossibly tight grip on Mark. "A-And D-Donghyuck," he continues, surprising Mark by even speaking about him. "Donghyuck hates me."

Mark shushes Jaemin, patting his back and occasionally kissing the top of his head, wishing Jaemin would stop crying before he gets himself sick.

And once he finally does stop, Mark feels his even breathing and feels horrible knowing that Jaemin has just cried himself to sleep.

Mark sighs, sitting there with Jaemin in his arms as he thinks for a while.

Jaemin must feel left out. And if anything between the four of them should work, no one should feel left out.

Mark would have to have a talk with everyone about that.

But for now, Mark smiles sadly at the boy in his lap, kisses his cheek, whispers 'I'm sorry' in his ear thrice, and then tucks him into bed, hoping for a better tomorrow.