Person A frolicking happily through the snow—perhaps seeing it for the first time—as Person B watches, more content with relaxing/observing. Person B looks away for one second and Person A jumps into a bed of freshly fallen snow, only to discover that it’s at least four feet deep. Person B glances back up to find A flailing their arms, stuck waist-deep in snow.
Title: Snow
Pairing: Markson from GOT7
Warning: None (??)
Genre: Fluff
Prompt:
As much as Jackson groaned and buried his face on the pillow deep enough to run out of oxygen in a matter of minutes, he couldn’t make the nuisance stop. A bouncing weight on the mattress and a raspy yet high pitched noise disturbing him and his dreams. It took awfully long for the black haired to put the pieces together, blame it on the lack of sleep and finals. Now, with a frown on his face that made all his wrinkles stand out, and that’s a lot to say for a 21 year old college student, the person standing on the way from him and his dreamland was tapping his bare arms rather forcefully, moving him slightly with every push.
His ears popped suddenly, the buzz finally becoming a voice, a familiar one, which created words. “Come on Jacks, please, wake up.” Lips were close to his ear, that was no good if what the other wanted is Jackson to get out of bed. “It’s snowing and the field is free, come on let’s go.”More please followed, at some points even interrupted by kisses on his shoulders and even bites, still no luck.
“It still will be snowing in three hours, Mark.” that was the squeaky answer Jackson give to his boyfriend, and frankly, he didn’t have to open his eyes to see the pout forming on the brunette’s lips and the disappointment in his face. Sadly, he had seen that face too many times in the past three years. The lack of response, however, was the reason why he cracked one eye open. Yes, the pout was right there, and it made something sting in him.
With a defeated sigh, Jackson dragged himself into a sitting position, arms stretched to reach the other but just his fingertips succeeded in doing so. “Mark…” he dared to whisper, maybe he had fucked up for real now, it was a very mundane and childlike thing for Mark to do, in all honestly, Jackson was surprised of the other’s reaction, nevertheless, he knew he had to patch it up before-
“I’d never seen snow in my life. Only in movies, pictures and whatnot.” He was also whispering. The whole atmosphere tightened, a rope that someone was pulling the ends of it. “And, well I hoped you would like to go out with me and play with it now that no one is looking and your bad boy reputation would not be damaged.” as always, Mark had the knife to cut said rope and break a half smile out of Jackson’s lips.
“Give me five minutes.”
Mark nodded smile widening on his lips,waited until his boyfriend stopped yawning to kiss him too passionately for a person who has just stumbled out of slumber and ran off.
In all his years of living, Jackson Wang could proudly say that he had never meet a paradox as complex and beautiful as Mark Tuan, and that he was the luckiest man alive to have the pleasure of dating him. At first, when we met on a utterly long but fancy dinner, that later on they would find out there were some of the most important people in the business world, Jackson would have pointed out Mark as cold and quiet, therefor dull. Truth the brunette wasn’t fond of sneaking out of the living room and make a mess in the garden that would end up with their too expensive suits getting ruined. He didn’t like talking that much either, there goes another con.
As the days went by and the meetings, now more private with just their families, became a frequent event every saturday night, Jackson couldn’t deny having the other listen to his ramblings was, to say the least, relieving, he never had the hazardous idea of opening his feelings and most terryfing tormets to the older, until the latter did.
It took the raven haired by surprise, leaving him completely spechless afterwards. Even in that moment, when he was leaning against the hall of their apartment building, Jackson can remember it vividly: they were in Jackson’s room, he was showing the other his new fencing set, all maybe too shine and with his last name, almost as a pattern, plastered all over the equipment. The other had been looking down at his fingers, watching them dance and interwine with eac hother with spasmodic movements. Jackson counted how many times he licked his lips wet, five in total, before his almond eyes found his.
“I’m gay, Jackson.”
How much he wanted to say something in that moment, tell him it would be alright, that he didn’t mind, just anything. But he couldn’t, because Mark had already begun his speech, a stream of words that flew from his mouth, thick and unstoppable, until him himself started to stutter, it was in the middle of the part my dad is going to find out and kill me of his ranting. His hands had flown to his hair, twisting and pulling, eyes had grown wider and were unfocused, breath was getting elaborated. The loud thud of the fencing helmet hitting the floor made him perk up momentarily, though not long enough, because seconds later his face was buried on Jackson’s chest.
From that point onwards it felt only fair for Jackson to also open up to the other, punch a hole in his walls and let the other have a look. This required long conversations on skype of text messages that left the black haired with aching fingers and sore eyes, arguments at some point even, those he wants to erase from his memory.
The more he found out about the other, the more the paradox grew, because Mark Tuan appeared as this introvert yet observing boy, whose eyes would never leave your mind out of how intense they are, his expression never curving, never changing, always focused. Words ready at the back of his throat, witty and incisive, his brow would raise at some point only to come back down in a blink of an eye. With that figure next to him, this manufactured being with his chest puffed up and chin straight upwards, Jackson could only think about tickling him, about doing something completely stupid to get his friend back. Then, the sun appeared from behind the thick dark grey clouds, and Mark as smiling at him, echoing his words as the black haired spoke and laughed with him, he jumped, hugged, electrifying touches were left as they walked along the streets. And Jackson wondered if he could keep that boy forever.
Turned out, he could, at least during their stay in one of the most prestigious college there was. Not that they were staying in a, how did his father call it? oh yeah: a tacky, cheap college residence, and so, they managed to get an apartment in the capital, all white walls and black furniture and a closet too big for only two teenage boys. Jackson wasn’t the one to complain, neither Mark.
Mark.
Then that name made his insides burn with nervousness. It had been almost three years since he had last seen his best friend in his all mighty glory, only through pixeled screens and intermittent connections between Los Angeles and Hong Kong. So one could tell he was in the verge of hysteria while waiting at the airport, the banner he was holding suddenly looking too infantile to bare, embarrassment quickly filling his cheeks. Okay, since when did Mark make him feel like a second grade girl with jelly legs? Sincerely, he couldn’t remember, perhaps since the very beginning, though that he hadn’t noticed until Mark got on that plane and left him for more that he could bare.
The hypothesis turned out to be truth, after all, when the kiss in front of all the busy people scrolling along the building, seemed too good to be real, it wasn’t awkward, Jackson would have punched the other if it hadn't been Mark. But it was Mark, Mark Tuan, his best friend, partner in crime, and finally, just then finally, his Mark. If the kiss was all sorts of right, so was holding hands to the apartment, the other’s now red hair tickling his cheek as he drove, or even cuddling with just their pajama pants on while watching the most horrible chick flicks out there.
It was completely awful how much Jackson took to realise how much he needed Mark in his life. He was the ying of his yang, the right to his wrong the light to his shadow, and he was holding onto his tanned chest as if he was the last brink of hope, of energy that was keeping him from the abyss he was destined to fall into.
Snow continued to pour, white crystallized confetti dancing all the way down to the ground, trees, benches and Jackson’s shoulders. His eyes were focused on the boy in front of him, sitting on the pile of snow they had made into two not so comfortable snow chairs, his nose against the other, steam mixing together, holding hands as it flew to find the snowflakes midway, lips found lips and all cold seem to vanish like the steam, leaving only smiles and mid sentences that maybe weren’t supposed to be said, not in that moment. They would find another time for them.
When Mark’s hand trembled as it cupped his cheeks, Jackson made the move to stand up, said hand trying to keep him in that snow throne. “I’ll get us something warm, I’ll be right back.” He said against the other’s knuckles before turning around. “Okay let me come wit-”
The sound of snow getting smashed intensified as the other’s words were cut. Turning around immediately, Jackson really tried hard to burst into a fit of laughter, he really did.
Mark, from his position, butt deep buried under a big hole in the snow, only arms and legs pointing out, oh-so-comically, also found it hard to appear mad or even slightly upset, joining the mad laugh of the other with his own, breaking the terrible silence of the night. His hand quickly grabbing into Jackson’s as he was pulled out of the trap. The cold hit him then, making a violent shiver shake him from head to toe, teeth clattering and voice cracky and trembling. “Let’s just continue in the morning.” Jackson talked sweetly was they walked back towards the apartment. “Now I think we should prevent you from having an hypothermia.”
“We could sleep some more and then ask the others to come for a snowball fight.” Mark asked looking at the other.
“Oh yes, that little shit Jaebum owes me one.” Jackson opened his anorak, wrapping the other with the left half of it.
“Rancorous much?” They left a poodle in the elevator, snow slowly melting.
“It wasn’t fair! He didn’t tell me he had played soccer in high school.” Their clothes were tossed into the sink, preventing them from soaking the wooden floor of the apartment.
“Only if I get to be in your team.” Mark reached for two towels, Jackson’s arms still around his waist, leading him towards the bathroom.
“There’s no team without you.” Pepper kisses were left on the red hair’s skin as he spoke, the first cold streams of water splashing them as they stepped into the shower.
“Good.” Mark whispered against the other’s lips, warm water now hitting their heads.