Me Plus You ♡ s.m. + m.f.

{57} Christmas!

"Marky, wake up! it's Christmas!" Jack whisper shouted, repeatedly poking Mark's face. Jack was like any other six year old, always waking up during the earliest hours of the morning on Christmas every year. He normally hated waking up early, but on Christmas it was like he suddenly became a morning person.

He sat up, pouting at the fact that Mark simply groaned and rolled over, facing away from him. He winced as he swung his short legs over the edge of the bed. despite his back hurting, he smiled, biting his lip and blushing, thinking about the events that had taken place just hours before as he slipped his Winnie the Pooh pajama pants back on.

He waddled down the hallway to Mark's dad's room, the bottom of his pant legs dragging the floor and almost covering up his feet, as they were too long.  Slowly, he opened the door and made his way inside. He sat down on the bed and shook Clifton awake.

The man ran his fingers through his thick, blonde hair. "Jack," He spoke in a groggy voice, "What possessed you to get up at six in the morning? Go back to bed now. You're gonna be tired later."

"But It's Christmas!"

"Okay? It'll be Christmas later, too."

Jack stood up, twirling like a ballerina before sitting himself back down.

"I'm in a good mood and I'm hyper! I don't want to sleep! There's a lot of attitudes going on around here."

"Whatever, go be with Mark." Clifton joked, pulling his bedsheets over his head. "We're going to your house at ten, so be ready."

The small Irish boy sighed, shuffling back to Mark's room and poking the other boy's face once again. "Can you please wake up? I'm hyper! I can't sleep, can you rub my back? can you make me food? I'm a princess and I'm hungry!"

Mark's eyes opened. He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Jack's waist. "Merry Christmas, babes. You're irritable already."

"I just want to open my presents already and watch Christmas movies but it's too early! I'm fuckin' pumped!" Jack jumped up from where he was sitting, jumping up and down like a small child. "Your dad has a frickin' attitude!"

Mark chuckled, sitting up and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand. "He always has an attitude. Let's go make food." He replied getting out of bed and offering his hand to Jack, who happily accepted.

They started down the stairs to the kitchen.

"You look hot with glasses, why don't you wear them during the day?" Jack asked, gently swinging their arms back and forth.

Mark shrugged, "I don't really like them."