Trip To Oblivion (Jaeson/Markson story AU)

Chapter 9

It's like nothing had ever happened.

They're back to the same old routine they've been through months ago consisted of work, eat, sleep and repeat ( and drink of course because that cheap convenience store vodka still waits for Jackson to come home every night with open arms).

This time however, Jackson feels Jaebum's eyes following his every move like a hawk, he feels Jaebum's breath on the back of his neck when he 'accidentally' leans in too close to say something to him and his damn skin prickles against the will of his brain that's still saying 'abort, abort!' but it becomes quieter each time it happens.

Because Jaebum is there. And Jaebum is warm. And Jackson has an enormous urge to lean against his firm chest each time Jaebum comes that close. As much as he denies it to himself over and over he craves it. He needs it.

Jaebum became his cigarette.

A stick of nicotine that never seems to burn down.It keeps on flickering and kindling so close to the reach of Jackson's fingers but so far away from his lips.And just when he thinks it's over,that the whole thing has burned down to goddamn ashes, it inflames again, burning with full force.

But unlike the slender white cancer sticks resting in a carton box,he can't take this one.

Why?

Because Jaebum burns.

He burns with a radiation of thousand suns,so bright and so warm that Jackson loses his coordination every time he's near.And when Jaebum smiles,lips curling upwards showing his teeth,eyes crinkling by the corners, Jackson thinks that he can feel his fallen apart world collecting itself again like a broken glass being glued back together.

But Mark hasn't burned down yet.And Jackson feels he never will.

Mark is a cigarette that lays in its ashtray seemingly forgotten,but never completely neglected because Jackson comes to it every day and takes a little inhale, small amount of oxygen,just enough to keep it burning for one more day,one more week,one more month.And just when he thinks it's over,that he can finally let go,the memories come back and overfill his mind and body with sadness.

It's like a black hole,sucking him further and further,leaving no trace behind.An abyss of utter chaos that he wants to free himself from but can't.He doesn't know how.He's a prisoner of his own mind(and heart,but that thing has been broken for quite some time).

So he exhales.Slow and steady.Let's the smell of smoke linger in his nostrils,lets the taste of nicotine dissolve on his tongue,let's his mind be mended by memories that turn into illusions the more he thinks about them, successfully shifting and blurring fine lines between present and past.

''We all die eventually''

-

Jackson's sprawled on his living room couch staring at the ceiling when his phone buzzes. He reaches his hand out only to be greeted by bright screen that makes him blink and a text from Youngjae that says 'Just came back from Mokpo.You up for some pot brownies?'

And honestly,who is Jackson to decline such an offer?

-

''Dude,your apartment stinks'', Is the first thing Youngjae says when he enters.He takes off his shoes, strolls through the narrow corridor and drops the paper bag on the table.Jackson looks up from his spot,which is the same one he's been lying for half an hour and thinks how Youngaje looks ten times uglier upside down.