Ice Cream on Lips (Anxieties Blissed) | RenMark/MarkRen

The Intervention of a Stranger's Friend

The following night resulted in Mark debating if the awkward interactions that were sure to come were worth his necessary remedy for the night, but he figured that the utter bliss he would receive after consuming the treat far outweighed a few judgmental glances his way.

And so, there he stood, gaping very obviously from the open doorway at the cashier that was most definitely not Renjun.

"Welcome," the not Renjun cashier said unsurely, effectively snapping Mark out of his unintentional daze.

"Ah, right. Thanks." 

Mark smartly ducked his head away from view behind the display of trending snacks. A faint burn of broiling blood marked the nape of his neck, but he ignored it in favor of getting his ice cream and getting out of this awkward situation.

He eventually braved the checkout counter after making his selection: Baskin Robbins' Honey Almond.

Just as he was shelling out the six-thousand won he owed, a distant, familiar voice called out from somewhere to his right: "Back for more?"

Mark whipped his head around toward the cocky voice, throat working around the sudden draught that had invaded upon locating a long face whose lips sported a much too satisfied grin.

"For your information, I rationed it out for a solid three hours," Mark blurted out, brain working into overdrive to avoid the inevitable teasing and prodding.

Renjun replied with his lips peeling back to reveal pearl-white teeth, a gentle snaggletooth making its shy appearance. 

"Wow, that's impressive. How's your stomach? Think it can handle any more late night sugar?"

Mark blustered and felt the boiling blood spread from his nape to what he could soundly conclude as the rest of his head. His brain, a mess from exhaustion, sugar neglect, and stressful social interaction, fizzled and popped under the heat and pressure, a slow-roast if it ever was one.

"Perfectly fine, excuse you," was the broken speech Mark offered to the conversation. 

He could feel the other cashier's gaze bore into his flared up side-profile, probably wondering what the literal fuck was happening during his shift.

Or not, if the guy's next words directed at Renjun were anything to go by: "Leave the poor guy alone, Renjun."

Renjun offered—Mark gave a quick, not at all subtle glance down at the cashier's name tag—Jeno an exasperated frown, the gleeful spark in his eyes fading out at the intervention.

"This is why you're no fun, Jeno."

"What? Is it wrong to stop you from bullying some stranger?"

"He's not a stranger, genius. He's a regular here, and you would've known that by now if you actually bothered to clock in for your shifts."

"Well, excuse me for having a life outside of this store."

And their bickering continued at a steady, almost practiced pace, as though the topics and discussion itself were argued and poured over regularly.

Familiar, Mark's faltering brain eventually concluded.

"Attempting to take care of the cats you're allergic to is not having a life, no-jam."

Very familiar.

Jeno, ultimately seeing no point in maintaining their banter, turned toward Mark with an apologetic smile, eyes becoming gentle crescents. 

"I'm sorry you had to witness that, and that you had to deal with this guy for who knows how long." 

He threw a faux dirty glare in what Mark presumed to be Renjun's direction, now moved from Mark's right to his left. 

"He's a brat who keeps forgetting his manners."

There was an indistinct mutter from where Mark continued to presume Renjun was, words and the meaning behind them lost amongst the plastic baskets clattering against one another.

Jeno responded in turn to Renjun's actions with a strained smile in Mark's direction.

Mark took the hint and grabbed his purchased pint and speed-walked out into the streetlamp-lit road, throwing a hasty, "Pleasure meeting you" over his shoulder.

A/N - the best friend who does damage control.