Chapter 1: Bless Ikea Furniture
Nothing is worse than being ripped out of your sleep, especially at 3am. So as Mark sat up in bed irritably, he questioned why the hell he was even up.
"God dammit!"
Oh. That's right. He could distinctly hear the shouting through his paper thin walls, and Mark immediately scowled. He briefly debated whether or not to go back to sleep and ignore the yelling or go deal with his new neighbor's ruckus, but his decision was practically made when he heard another particularly loud swear.
With a grumble, Mark threw off his sheets, shoved his feet into their correct slipper, and headed out of his shitty apartment. In the hall, he paused for a moment to find out where exactly the sound had come from.
"FUCK!"
Left it was, then.
His knuckles rapped impatiently against the worn wooden door before him, exhaustion and frustration getting the best of him. Mark had gotten home late the previous night from a particularly long recording session with the grumps (not that he would ever really complain since he enjoyed their company and had a great time). Still, it left Mark tired as hell. He shouldn't be standing out in the middle of the hall, pink fluffy slippers and a pair of boxer shorts and all, and yet he was.
As the door finally the door swung open, Mark readied his complaints on his tongue but they died in his throat. Holy hell, his neighbor was hot.
"Yes?" the man asked in a cautious voice. He was only slightly shorter than Mark (but appeared much smaller due to his lighter build), fluffy, neon green locks stuck out from his head at every which way, and giant blue orbs hid behind a pair of simple black lens. He was definitely Mark's type.
"Uh-" Mark said smartly. "I was just- I couldn't help but overhear that you're having trouble with something?" He cringed. He came over here to give his neighbor piece of his mind, and now he was some kind of good samaritan?
"Oh! Yeah, sorry." Little Mr. Hottie fidgeted with his woven bracelets nervously. "I was trying to put together my new bed frame, but I'm not very handy with these types of things."
"That explains all the swearing then," Mark replied with a small chuckle which his neighbor answered with one of his own. Mark was about to turn away and go back to bed when an idea struck him. "You know, I could help you with it if you want," his lips moved before he could stop them. The two of them were complete strangers, he didn't know anything about Mark and vice versa and yet–
"Yes! Please! God, thank you," the grass-haired stranger exclaimed, and ushered Mark inside excitedly.
With that alluring and presumably Irish accent of his, Mark followed meekly behind the man. The next thing he knew Mark was inside the cutie's apartment, standing side by side with the Irishman as they gazed upon at a bunch of wooden parts strewn haphazardly across the mostly empty bedroom.
"I'm Jack, by the way. Figure you should know my name since we're gonna put my bed together, huh?" He laughed, and Mark wanted to cry at how beautiful that simple noise was.
"Mark." He internally fist pumped at being able to keep an even tone.
Jack smiled. "Well, let's get to work!"
So the two went about assembling Jack's large bed frame, trying to figure out the directions from the vague pictures on the instructions alone.
"See, this is why I don't buy furniture from IKEA," Mark joked, earning another laugh from Jack.
Mark and Jack continued to make idle conversation, Mark asking the other questions who would then as Mark a question in return. Jack then complimented the Mark's slippers, which he posed dramatically for. Jack asked about Mark's work, so he told him that he was a full-time YouTuber.
"No shit!" Jack exclaimed, and Mark turned to him with a raised brow. "I do YouTube, too!"
Mark and Jack laughed at the slim possibility of two rather large YouTubers somehow ending up right next door to each other. What were the chances of that? Mark asked Jack a little more about himself and learned that he had just moved to LA after dropping out of university back in Ireland. He even got a part time job at Starbucks to help pay for the moving costs. Mark told him with a wink that he would definitely stop by the next time Jack worked. Jack turned his head away, though Mark could still pick up the faint dusting of pink across his pale cheeks.
At some point he even apologized to Mark for dragging him from his bed just to help someone like him, so Mark waved off his worries, saying, "Who needs sleep, anyways?"
"Sleep is for the weak!" Jack agreed with a light laugh.
Finally around 4am, the construction was complete. "You know, since we went through all the trouble of putting your bed together, why don't we test it out?" Mark suggested with a sly grin.
Jack laughed and thanked Mark for his help, face reddened slightly. Mark left his apartment with a dumb smile on his face, the tingling sensation of lips against his cheek, and Jack's number written in Sharpie on his hand.
