(能让我的痛)没人看到
pairing: mark/jackson
word count: 7.6k
rating: g all the way
warnings: hp!au, lots of house stereotypes (but that's what we write these for amirite), ooc youngjae
summary: jackson's the gryffindor quidditch captain. he's also in love with mark, who happens to be in slytherin. that's it, really. this is probably a lot less dramatic and more slapstick than it actually sounds.
part I
Gryffindor wins Slytherin during the Quidditch season that year.
It’s a windfall- almost as if the team’s trying to make Jackson’s last year as captain one to remember. He’d whooped and done giant happy circles in the air, the thrum of adrenaline in his veins like a bass drum to the hoarse screams of the crowd in the chilly air after their Seeker raised the tiny fluttering gold ball triumphantly, signalling the end of the match. They’d won a landslide victory. The Cup was going to be theirs, Jackson could just feel it. Just that one last match against Ravenclaw, and they’d be through.
He’s on the ground, being lifted up in the air with the other team members and thronged by the massive red crowd that’s gathered on the pitch, when he notices the speck of red hair amongst the green scarves filing out silently, mournfully, almost, stationary and silent.
The unbidden happiness that’s sprung up within him falters for just a second, as he frees himself from a crushing hug, courtesy of Jaebum, to crane his neck and peer over the crowd.
Mark’s already gone.
*
He’s anxiously awaiting the ugly tawny owl that half-attacks him the next morning during breakfast, flapping off once he’s wrestled the letter off its leg, disgruntled. Jaebum is already looking his way disapprovingly over his plate of scrambled eggs and sausages, and Jackson ignores him, leaning away to scan the message quickly.
Owl mail had long been the only way the two of them could talk without it being obvious, and though Jackson’s grateful for at least some form of communication, it often leaves him in uneasy suspense for the boy’s next letter.
Jackson honestly doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, maybe some congratulations, or a snarky remark about the last match, or somethingencouraging, at least, but the words he reads next seems to knock the breath right out of his lungs.
Jackson
I think we need to stay apart for a while. We shouldn’t meet during the next Hogsmeade outing. The other seventh-years are starting to suspect. Don’t ask for details, it’s too risky to explain here.
I don’t know when we can speak again. I think it’ll be for the best if we don’t make contact until stuff blows over.
Stay safe, okay?
Jackson rereads the letter twice, disbelief slowly giving way to a slow sickening sensation that spreads from the pit of his stomach to the rest of his body, before looking up, abandoning all thoughts of subtlety, craning his neck to peer over to the Slytherin tables. He catches sight of the redhead amidst a huddle of green, laughing over something one of the other boys had said, before looking up to lift a spoon of cereal to his mouth, and their eyes meet for a second.
There isn’t a flicker of recognition in the boy’s eyes, as though Jackson’s any other Gryffindor boy at the table, and after that brief second that sends Jackson’s head spinning, Mark’s looking back at the other kids at his table, conversing casually, carrying on with life as per perfectly normal.
“We’ve got to get to class,” Jaebum nudges him, and Jackson blinks, watching the boy blankly as he stands. Jaebum frowns after a moment more of Jackson’s stunned silence. “What’s up with you? Lover boy send you life-changing news?”
Jackson swallows, throat suddenly numb, wondering why the words had hit him so hard.
It’ll only be for a few weeks, right? It’s not like he’s breaking up with you or anything, sheesh. Besides, this is probably for the better, right?
“Blow over”…what’d that mean, though?
Jackson forces a grin, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Nothing you need to worry about, hyung. What do we have first?”
Jaebum watches him with narrowed eyes as he gets up. “Charms, with the Ravenclaw kids. Let’s go.”
*
The next few weeks pass in what Jackson can only describe as a somewhat muted agony. Mark stays true to his word, and no more letters come for Jackson. His stupid ugly owl doesn’t come over and peck Jackson insistently until he’s attached a return letter, either, so Jackson can only assume Mark isn’t sending him back over.
Jackson sneaks glances over during Potions and Transfiguration, hoping desperately for a sign, a sideways peek or a subtle hand signal, at least, but Mark ignores him perfectly well without making it seem like he’s actually ignoring Jackson. His eyes have this wondrous capability of staring straight through Jackson like he’s a piece of furniture, and by some great work he manages to ensure that he’s never beside Jackson, never too far from him either, as if Jackson really is no different from any other student in the class.
Bitterly, Jackson concludes that he must have been gifted with the ability to do something really evil to get into Slytherin anyway, and this is probably it.
It’s crazy, then, how apart from this, Jackson’s life remains eerily normal. Youngjae continues talking his ears off and Bambam disses everyone within a metre radius, and Yugyeom remains painfully clueless. It’s like nothing’s changed, like no one seems to notice how far Jackson’s life’s been turned inside out and upside down. Like Mark could just vanish right out of his life without further notice.
Like Mark already had.
Jackson wonders what validates the two of them, what he could ever possibly have in black and white to reassure him that Mark and Jackson had ever once existed in tandem, what could record the stolen kisses by the Forest or the hands held tightly in Honeydukes, before he realises that there’s nothing. No gifts, no keys to return, no lovey-dovey couple rings. No friends to tease them, no worried family members asking how the two of them are.
It’s like his heart’s gone, a clean, purposeful void where it’d once been, though according to the world, according to Mark, he’d never given it away.
The thought hurts a lot more than it’s probably supposed to.
*
“Pretty please.”
“No. I can’t believe you’re still asking.”
“Pretty please, hyung, with a Cockroach Cluster on top.”
“No. And why would I want Cockroach Cluster, gross.”
Jackson attempts to leer over at Jaebum from his bed, and is pointedly ignored from where Jaebum’s doing some important Head Boy duty thing in a large evil looking black book. The younger boy eventually gives up, slumping back on his bed. All the other boys are asleep by now, and the only candle still lit is the one between their beds.
“Oh come on, pleaaaase,” Jackson whines, kicking out, not caring that he’s in his final year and probably looks like a three-year-old. “I’ll do anything, just let me borrow your owl for a while, please?”
“No,” Jaebum says firmly. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to? You’re going to try and send him a letter, aren’t you?”
Jackson turns red. “…don’t jump to conclusions, hyung, yeesh, you always think so badly of me.”
Jaebum gives him a look.
“Alright fine!” Jackson throws his hands up in the air, and someone from another bed shushes him in annoyance. “I’m sending him a letter! Sue me! I just need totalk to him, hyung, I swear, I’m going crazy!”
“Well that’s kind of the point of “not contacting” each other, if you haven’t noticed,” Jaebum rolls his eyes, jabbing down another number in his book. “You’re not supposed to talk to each other. And it’s probably for the best, too,” Jackson groans at this, and Jaebum ignores him. “The less you see of him, the better.”
When Jackson remains stubbornly mute, Jaebum rolls his eyes.
“Besides, you don’t think it’s any different for him? He’ll probably face a load of heat too, if anyone finds out. And those stupid Slytherins aren’t going to be as nice as us when the secret gets out,” Jaebum rolls his eyes, as though it’s a given.
“You’re missing the point, hyung,” Jackson pouts. He’s prepared for this, though, armed with the secret weapon that had taken three pumpkin pies and two smuggled bottles of Butterbeer apiece to wheedle out of Youngjae and Bambam. “Look, I just need your owl for one letter. After that, nothing, okay? I just need some sort ofexplanation, hyung.”
“Gosh, it’s pointless trying to talk to you about this,” Jaebum flips the page of his book irritably, scribbling down another number, and Jackson goes in for the kill.
“You knew one too, didn’t you?”
“You really-…wait, what?” Jaebum finally turns his full, albeit confused, attention to Jackson. “One what?”
“That Slytherin sixth-year? Black hair, likes to talk quite a bit, the “best seeker Slytherin’s seen in decades”?” Jackson prods cautiously, knowing for sure he’s hit a button when Jaebum’s face darkens, eyes momentarily lost in thought. “What was his name? Park Jinyou-…”
“Drop it,” Jaebum says sharply. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You guys used to be friends before you came to this school, right?” Jackson trudges on relentlessly, determined to carry the conversation through. “Until you got sorted to Gryffindor and he got into Slythe-…”
“I said drop it,” Jaebum hisses, slamming the book shut, and Jackson backs up for a bit. “Look, if the guy wants you to forget there was ever a thing between the two of you, how about you make things easier for yourself and just do what he says? Because it’s probably for the best, isn’t it?”
He drops the book on the bedside table then, roughly blowing out the candle before pulling the drapes shut, closing out Jackson for good.
Wow.
Jackson very carefully files that byte of information away under the “For Future Use” section in his head.
*
As the match against Ravenclaw looms closer, Jackson finds himself increasing length and frequency of practice, because there’s a solace in making himself useful somewhere, at least. At least when he’s sending Bludgers flying off in the opposite direction at a hundred miles per hour with a well-placed whack of his bat, he can pretend he’s sending all his pent-up bitterness and emotions flying away with them.
Jackson’s just rounded up practice a few nights before the big match, sending everyone back to the dorms with orders to shower and have an early night, before staying back himself to keep the balls and bats, and close up the room where they’re stored, when he realises it’s stretched a little later than usual. Jackson scrunches up his face at the thought of the long Potions essay waiting for him back at the dorm, and has just started back towards the dorm, broom over his shoulder, when he sees the vague outline of a crowd of figures in the distance, all drawing closer by the second.
His heart sinks when he sees the hints of green amidst the black fabric.
Jackson’s never one to run from a fight, though, (Bambam calls it stupidity, Jackson begs to differ) so he trudges on towards the castle. It must be about the previous match and their spectacular failure against the Gryffindor team, he thinks.
He wears a pleasant smile as he draws near to the crowd, hoping they’ll let him walk right by if he doesn’t pay attention to them. He’s got no such luck. One of them moves right in front of him to cut him off, and the rest fan out around him, wands already out.
Wow. He must’ve done something to really piss them off.
“Before you guys trash me, can I at least know the reason why?” Jackson’s stalling, feeling within his robes for his own wand, relieved when he finds it. Worst come worst, he can do that smoke charm he learned from Youngjae a few weeks back and fly off on his broom before they know what’s going on.
“I can’t believe he still dares to talk like that,” a tall boy with slender eyes and thin lips scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re really all the same.”
“That’s actually a common misconception,” Jackson hopes they haven’t noticed how he’s got his wand out now, concealed in the shadows of his robe in the poor evening light. “Jaebum hyung is in fact a lot naggier than me.”
“We’re not here to beat you up about how you’re an idiot tonight,” another boy Jackson recognises this time, a sixth-year by the name of Song Minho, deadpans, face and voice empty of emotion with the sort of indifference that probably takes years to master. “Though that would probably warrant some serious trashing on any other occasion.”
“Uhm,” Jackson gestures with his free hand, shrugging. “Got any other outstanding parts of me that chafe upon you so? I know I’m attractive as heck but hey man, you gotta hand it to my parents, right?”
The first spell comes like lightning from the boy on his right, and Jackson dodges it, turning to watch as it embeds itself in a tree trunk and leaves it smoking gently.
“He’s insufferable,” the boy’s got cute doe eyes that twist harshly when he snarls, withdrawing his wand. It’s Kim Jinwoo, another seventh-year who looks pretty much like a third-year Hufflepuff until he gets his wand out and hexes your ass off. “I can’t believe he’s the one.”
“Uh, cool,” Jackson comments, though he’s thoroughly confused. “What am I the one for?”
Minho raises an eyebrow, before slowly lifting his wand hand behind his head in the ready position to hex, and Jackson notes the others doing the same, all waiting for the cue. “We hope you won’t take this personally. We’re just protecting our own, yeah?”
Jackson barely has time to think about what that means when six or seven bolts of light are heading for him at once, and he whips out his wand just in time, casting a deflective spell that hardly lives through the impact of the spells, causing him to stagger backwards.
“Ah, shit, he knows how to duel,” the tall boy- Jackson remembers his name now: Seunghoon, another seventh-year, rolls his eyes.
“He’ll just make it interesting, then,” the boy on Jackson’s left, a fifth-year with sad eyebrows and cold eyes says, twirling his wand easily, before raising it above his head again.
Jackson doesn’t catch all of the hexes with the protective spell this time. One of them brushes his side, slicing pain straight through his abdomen that has blood spilling on his robes, and almost doubles over with the shock of agony that comes later. Jackson deflects another wave, but the spell shatters upon impact and he’s sent toppling backwards, body hitting the ground hard.
“Ow, shit,” Jackson mutters, still on the ground, holding his wand up as they close in around him slowly, taking their time with it. He racks his brain trying to find something else to stall with before they hex him to the moon and back. “Shit, can y’all at least explain why you’re doing this? I don’t appreciate getting beat up for nothing, you know.”
“Stay away from Mark-hyung,” Minho finally says when they’ve fully surrounded him, wands pointed easily at him.
That makes Jackson’s jaw drop despite the fact that he’s sprawled out on the ground, blood freezing over in his skin, because they know?
“He doesn’t deserve scum like you,” the boy with the sad eyes adds, voice monotone.
“Taehyun’s right. I don’t know what he sees in you,” Jinwoo scoffs, tugging up the sleeves of his wand hand.
“We’re just making sure you never get the chance to mess with him again,” Minho says, voice almost pleasant, now, raising his wand, and Jackson braces, wand gripped tightly in his hand for one last stand.
He sees the first bright red flash of light, and winces, but the pain, this time, takes an awful long time to come, and he realises after a while that it isn’t coming at all.
The concentric circle around him breaks up into disarray. Another flash of light, and Jackson sees it clearly now- Minho’s wand flies right out of his hand, along with Jinwoo’s.
Jackson strains his neck to look up and possibly sing praises in the direction of his saviour. He’s expecting to see Jaebum, maybe bringing along his prefect posse or a teacher, or Youngjae and Bambam with a couple of prefects, even, but what he sees rockets him into an even greater maelstrom of emotion.
There, running towards the group of them, wand raised to send another disarming spell flying, is Mark.
The group disperses the moment he comes close, as if afraid to touch him, all spreading out further as Mark, furious and panting with his wand raised above his head, comes to stand right in front of Jackson.
“I already said to all of you,” Mark hisses, looking them in the eye, one person to another. “Not to touch him, right?”
“Mark, listen to yourself,” Seunghoon starts, sounding impatient. “This is starting to get a little ridiculous. Are you seriously defending him against us?”
“What do you even see that’s worth protecting in him?” Jinwoo almost spits, glaring venomously behind Mark at Jackson, who pales a little at the sight.
“Hyung, we’ve been over this,” Minho sounds annoyed, but in the weary sort of way that sort of reminds Jackson of the way Jaebum talks to him about Mark. “He’s from Gryffindor. Things never turn out right between us and them. The less you see of him, the better, alright? We’re just trying to protect you, hyung.”
“I know what you all mean, I know what you’re trying to say, alright?” Mark’s fists are clenched. “And I agreed to stay away from him as long as none of you tried to hurt him, right?”
“You think he’s capable of keeping up that side of the deal?” Taehyun lets out a soft laugh. “They’re all the same, those Gryffindor brutes. All they know how to do is use their animal instincts. And he’s stupid and incapable of thinking about anyone other than himself, just like the rest of them.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark seems to calm down on that, breaths evening, though his eyes still burn and his wand is still at the ready. “Leave. Go back, now, and I don’t ever want to see any of you going near him again.”
Jinwoo seems to disagree, and so does Seunghoon, but Minho, after a second’s thought, jerks his head irritably towards the castle, and the rest of them slacken slightly, before turning to return to the castle, shoulders hunched and wands stowed.
Mark seems to wait until they’ve cleared a fair distance from the two of them, before turning and dropping to his knees quickly beside Jackson, eyes wide and fearful, hands trembling when they find Jackson’s and hold on tight.
“Are you hurt?”
“Uh, yeah, you kinda broke my heart,” Jackson gestures pointedly. “I’m going to need you to kiss me better and then explain yourself really good.”
Mark lets out a breathy laugh, crumpling slightly against Jackson’s chest, fingers still tight around Jackson’s hands. He straightens when he feels the damp patch in the fabric, and looks over worriedly, gasping when he peels back a bit of the ripped robes to reveal a gaping slash in Jackson’s side, spurting blood.
“Oh yeah, that too,” Jackson squints. “Oh, it looks kinda bad.”
“Shut up,” Mark says, pulling out his wand, and Jackson barely has the time to ask him what he’s doing when there’s a flash of blue light, and Jackson inhales sharply, drawing his legs up to his chest and gripping Mark’s hand tight.
“Ow?” Jackson says, both indignant and in agony, but he soon realises that while the pain had flared for a few seconds, it’s diminished quickly into nothing but a dull throb. He feels blindly for the spot, only to find a healing scab, blood solidified and skin warm, only to have Mark push his hand away in annoyance.
“Stop it, you’ll reopen it.”
“When did you learn how to be a nurse?” Jackson says in part awe and part annoyance. “That’s like one thing on the list of things you really ought to tell me about. Including this thing about your homicidal friends. That might really help in the future.”
Mark’s shoulders slump, then, and he exhales. “Jackson, I didn’t-…I didn’t think they’d come after you, I’m serious, not after I promised-…”
“Is that why? Is that why you were ignoring me this whole time?” Jackson demands, trying to look Mark in the eye while being horizontal on the ground at the same time. “Damn it Mark, I know I said stuff about us being in a kdrama but I wasn’t serious, we could’ve talked it out, or something, right?”
“I sent you a letter, didn’t I?” Mark looks confused, and Jackson lets out an insulted noise.
“One vague thing about waiting for stuff to blow over and you expect me to wait without further notice indefinitely? I almost went nuts wondering what on earth was going on, you know that? I actually asked Jaebum-hyung for his owl to send you a message, you know, that’s how desperate I was.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark slumps a little, letting out a slow breath, looking so downcast that Jackson actually feels guilty. “I just wanted everything to cool down before trying to contact you again.”
“Did they make it hard on you?” Jackson asks, worried, and Mark shakes his head immediately.
“They were just looking out for me,” Mark mumbles, still holding Jackson’s hand. “They might seem like real shits but they’re just trying to protect the house.”
Jackson blinks, looking up at Mark, before saying the thing he never thought he’d admit.
“They really care about you, though. Hate my guts, but they care about you.”
“Yeah, they really do,” Mark looks guilty, regretful, almost. “I just wish they understood- you know, we’re not all that different,” he looks at Jackson then, letting out a soft breath of laughter. “Jaebum cares about you too, and that little Ravenclaw clique you’ve got following you too. I’m willing to bet they hate me too.”
“I wouldn’t say hate,” Jackson scrunches up his face. “Jaebum just makes this disappointed old grandpa face whenever he knows I’m thinking about you. And Youngjae and Bambam think I’ve gone nuts.”
“I don’t blame them,” Mark says derisively, and Jackson makes a face at him.
“How could you say such a thing when I’m still hurt,” he says dramatically. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe we should just really break up.”
Mark laughs, rolling his eyes and half-heartedly punching Jackson on the shoulder. “Not you too, now.”
“I love you.”
“And you’re stup-…” Mark freezes in mid insult, lips forming a perfect “o” in surprise at the sudden declaration, and Jackson takes advantage of it to pull him down and press a kiss on his lips.
“Let’s do something other than ignore each other the rest of the time we’re here, okay?” he says, once they’ve separated, and Mark sighs noisily.
“Most of the time, I’m wondering whether I love you or whether I just want to slap you, you know that?”
“That’s the spirit, baby,” Jackson says, grinning, and Mark slaps him.
*
“What are we going to do, though, if we’re not ignoring each other?” Mark asks, as he’s helping Jackson back towards the castle to shower and see if there’s anything left in the Great Hall to eat, and Jackson shrugs.
“I kind of have an idea.”
Mark groans. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Jackson somehow manages to pat him on the back while still tottering, one arm over Mark’s shoulder. “You know me so well, baby.”
*
Jackson happily walks over to where Jaebum and the others are seated beside the lake the next day, chewing on toast and drinking juice, and Jaebum looks up at the sound of him approaching, eyes worried.
“Hey, what happened yesterday, I heard you got…” Jaebum trails off slowly as Jackson plops down beside Bambam, helping himself to a piece of toast.
Jaebum turns towards the lake and very slowly alternates between deep inhalation and exhalation.
“Yeah, I got into a bit of a rough spot yesterday, but it’s fine now, Mark helped me,” Jackson says around his mouthful of toast.
“Oh, Jackson hyung!” Yugyeom seems to just have noticed his presence, and he looks over, a little awed. “I didn’t know you were in Slytherin!”
“Hey kid,” Jackson gives a wave, before fingering the green and white scarf around his neck. “Oh, this? Nah, Mark and I just decided to switch a couple of things for a while.”
“Does anyone have a paper bag,” Jaebum asks, looking a little desperate.
“Oh shush, hyung,” Youngjae says, picking up his flask of juice to take a sip. “You knew this was bound to happen one day or another.”
“Uh, thanks?” Jackson tries, and Youngjae gives a noncommittal shrug. Bambam leans over to whisper something, and Youngjae grins. Jackson chooses to ignore them for the time being in favour of more important things, which become apparent as Mark sits down right beside him as planned, pressing neatly into his side, a red and gold scarf wrapped around his own neck.
“Hi Mark hyung!” Yugyeom waves cheerfully. “I didn’t know you were in Gryffindor!”
“Hey Yugyeommie. Nah, Jackson and I just decided to switch a couple of things for the day,” Mark says easily.
“Oh yeah, I never did introduce you guys properly,” Jackson gestures pleasantly to Mark. “Guys, this is Mark, my boyfriend. Mark, the Ravenclaw boys are Youngjae and Bambam, and there’s Yugyeom, whom you already know by some strange means I’m not going to question, and then the hyperventilating one is Jaebum hyung.”
“Hey,” Mark waves. Yugyeom waves back- Bambam’s now looking at Jaebum with some degree of concern and Youngjae doesn’t look bothered at all by the happenings.
“Why am I alive,” Jaebum asks no one in particular, now pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like someone trying very hard not to go into cardiac arrest on the spot.
Jackson looks expectantly at Mark, who turns, gesturing to someone nearer the wooden benches outside the castle.
Before long, Jackson watches another boy in a green scarf, this one with dark hair and pretty eyes whom he’s seen on the Quidditch pitch on the other side several times before, approach, looking vaguely amused. He walks right up behind Jaebum and prods him in the back with the toe of his shoe, and Jackson snorts when Jaebum turns around to almost snap until he sees who it is, and freezes.
Park Jinyoung bends down to press a kiss on Jaebum’s lips, then, before quickly straightening, the flush on his face visible only because of the bright morning sunlight, giving Mark a cheerful thumbs-up, which Mark returns. He then turns, heading off hastily, and Jackson honestly wishes cameras worked on the school grounds, then, because he would’ve loved getting a picture of Jaebum’s face as he watched him leave.
Jackson starts a little as Jaebum gets up roughly, then, and chases the other boy down, before sweeping him into a second kiss, completely ignoring the stares of a group of Gryffindor girls heading out from the castle after breakfast. This one lasts a lot longer.
“Hypocrite,” Jackson grumbles in conclusion, gathering Mark a little closer to his side, smiling when the other boy complies easily. Bambam leans over to Youngjae, a grin on his face.
“Cough up,” he holds out a hand, and Youngjae groans.
“I’ll pay you back at the dorm,” the older boy mumbles.
“You two seriously did not just place a bet on the outcome of that,” Jackson says, jerking a thumb in the vague direction of where Jaebum’s busy breaking every rule he’s ever tried (and failed) to drill into Jackson’s head.
“Oh, hyung,” Youngjae rolls his eyes, while Bambam chuckles. “You don’t want to know what we bet on the outcome of this.”
Jackson makes an affronted noise when he realises Youngjae’s pointing to him and Mark.
“Cool friends,” Mark comments, fingers tightening a little around Jackson’s hand, and Jackson grumbles dissent, leaning back into Mark’s comforting embrace anyway. He knows how much this moment’s meant to Mark.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Jackson lets out a breathy chuckle, smoothing circles into Mark’s palm with his thumb. “But you will.”
And that’s really all that matters.
a/n what is happening even cries