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Jack was absolutely, positively flustered.
At first he thought he would be waking up to sunlight, something that would sound like Mark yelling at a game. Waking up to a normal routine for once, seeing as it had been like this for a good two months since he finally, finally, moved to LA. And choosing to room with Mark was a big deal at first, but every day seemed normal now. He had a regular sleep schedule and everything. He could have sworn he was tanning.
But today. Today was different.
First and foremost, he woke up to a pleasantly silent room. Usually, his room’s window was slightly open and the cars outside would wake him up once there was enough rush. But this time, the window was closed, and he felt nearly panicked because of the lack of routine.
He found himself jolt up and look around, and lo and behold was his problem. He was, in fact, not even in his room. He was somewhere else, in a different bed in a room that reminded him of Mark’s, except he wasn’t sure why he’d be in there. So something must’ve happened the night before, but he didn’t remember anything unusual or parties or drinking or anything. It was mostly a lack of a hangover.
Slowly, he stepped out of the bed and walked towards the door and opened it, only to be greeted by hanging shirts. For a moment, he thought this may all be a dream and he could go back to bed peacefully, but there was no doubt that all those shirts were Mark’s. So he was in his own house.
He found his way to the hallway and recognised his surroundings a bit better, his mind switching from panic to confusion when he smelled something that seemed like it was burning or cooking. He couldn’t tell, but he managed to follow it to the kitchen, where there revealed Jack’s flustered state.
He was absolutely, positively flustered at the sight before him.
Mark was in front of the stove, flipping - or at least trying to flip - pancakes and putting them one by one on a plate, which was already stacked with ten of them. Jack half-expected Mark to be shirtless, just to make it even more like it was a movie, but he assumed Mark was aware of his safety in this case. He could hear Mark humming something, a tune or song, which was occupying him as Jack took careful time to adjust himself.
“Mark?” Jack asked, attempting to seem as if he had just gotten there.
“Hm?” Mark hummed, turning and smiling when he saw Jack. “Oh, hey, Jack. I was just making a bunch of pancakes. I thought we’d have some real quick and then record.” Jack chuckled, looking at the growing stack.
“That’s...a lot of pancakes,” he noted. Mark looked to the plate.
“Oh, yeah, I....guess I got carried away a little. I mean, we can always freeze the extra and toast them later.” Jack shrugged, nodding.
“A valid plan.” Jack leaned onto the counter facing Mark as Mark flipped his current pancake. “Can I ask something?”
“Yeah, sure,” Mark said, distracted with his cooking.
“How come... I mean, I woke up in your room. Your bed.” Mark nodded, humming in agreement. “Do you...know why that is?” Mark shrugged.
“Uh...,” he said, turning a pancake onto the stack and pouring more batter into the pan. “Well, I know you were pretty tired last night, so...”
“I...don’t think I was so tired that I would have found my way to your room on accident. Sure, I was pretty deprived to forget a lot of it, but...” He tried to move to meet Mark’s eyes, but Mark avoided eye contact like the plague at that moment. “Mark, will you look at me?”
“I-”
“Mark, just- Look at me.” Mark finally turned with a face full of worry and what looked like unconfirmed guilt. “Will you be completely honest with me on this when I ask?” Mark nodded slowly, turning his head again. “No, no, look at me.” Jack grabbed Mark’s chin and made him meet his gaze. “Did we have sex or anything last night?” Mark’s face flushed a deep red at the thought, and he opened his mouth, Jack’s hand falling from his chin. Slowly, he shook his head. “Alright. That’s it, that’s all I needed to know.” Jack turned so his back was against the counter, running a hand through his hair and he continued to watch Mark flip pancake after pancake.
“Um...,” Mark said suddenly.
“What?” Jack replied at the noise.
“What?” Mark looked over at him.
“You sounded like you were about to say something.” Mark shook his head and looked away quickly, worriedly.
“No, I wasn’t,” he defended. Jack straightened up at the tone of Mark’s voice.
“Mark...,” he warned,
“What? I wasn’t going to say anything.” Jack faced Mark again and turned Mark fully towards himself.
“Mark, what did we do last night that you aren’t telling me?” Mark looked down at his shoes.
“Will you get mad if I tell you?” Mark asked quietly.
“I won’t if you tell me so I at least know. You said we didn’t do...it. So what did we do?”
“We...” Mark shifted his weight and looked up at the ceiling. “I... I wouldn’t call it kissing, I mean...”
“You’re saying we kissed? Is that all?”
“Well, more like... We made-out...a little.” Mark looked back down at his feet again.
“How much constitutes ‘a little’?”
“Like...a lot.”
“...How much is ‘a lot’?”
“On and off for, like, two hours?” Mark bit his lip and looked up to meet Jack’s eyes with guilt shrowding his face all over, complete with a slight blush.
And Jack smiled. And started laughing and laughing, leaving Mark to stand there and look the most confused he’s been for a long time.
“Jack?” he asked once Jack got a hold of himself.
“Yeah?” he asked through his last chuckles.
“You’re not...mad, are you?” Jack shook his head and pulled Mark in for a quick hug.
“No, no, course not,” he said as he pulled away. He reached to kiss Mark’s cheek. “I just can’t believe that you were afraid to tell me that when you should know it’s okay.” Mark opened his mouth and then closed it. “Tell you what, Mark: I’ll wait on the couch for you and you tell me when you’re done making a pancake castle.” Mark watched from where he stood as Jack left the kitchen, still in small giggles.
That is, until he smelled something burning behind him.
“Jack, God damn it, you made me burn my pancake!”