Welcoming Committee - Markson

quarante deux - F

Jackson didn't count laps. In fact, he wasn't even doing actual laps, but rather, blindly swimming this way and that. He ended up swimming the perimeter of the pool, just to prevent himself from accidentally smashing into the walls.

Mark's parents were nice enough, leaving him alone after lighting the night torches to keep the bugs away. It was obvious that he wanted to be alone, and he was grateful that they understood that.

The sun had started to set, it's glow barely visible, and Jackson found himself smiling. There was something special about swimming at night.

He moved onto his back, staring at the night sky while idly moving his hands to keep afloat. 

"Ka Yee?"

Jackson jolted, turning towards the noise. 

Mark stood by the edge of the pool. Jackson was in awe, as the torches' lights flickered, casting an attractive glow across Mark's face. 

"What are you doing here?"

Mark walked over, sitting on the edge of the pool. Jackson moved closer. He was tempted to stop between Mark's legs, and pull himself up until their faces met, but he quickly shot down the idea, instead hovering next to him. 

"Everyone else went to bed, so I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?"

Jackson was grateful for the almost nonexistent light, as Mark wouldn't see the blush rising to his cheeks. Was Mark worried about him?

"I just have a lot of pent up energy. I feel restless. It's probably the timezones." Lies.

Mark nodded, letting out a sigh as he leaned back onto his hands, staring up at the sky. Jackson took the chance to stare at Mark. As he stared, he imagined running his fingers along Mark's adams apple, tracing his jawline, and pressing against his perfect lips. 

Mark rolled his head towards Jackson, who quickly looked away, embarrassed that he had been caught. 

"Well, I like night swimming. It feels special, kind of intimate, you know?"

What was he trying to say? "Yeah," Jackson easily agreed.

"Well, okay, if you've got so much energy left, let's race." 

Jackson didn't get the chance to respond, as Mark pushed himself into the water, immediately swimming off.

Smiling, Jackson quickly followed. 

It was nice for a while, just the two of them under the stars. It was silent, save for a few hushed laughs and gasping breaths every so often. 

Jackson had relaxed, hardly noticing the knots in his gut as he swam. 

Mark decided to swim closer to Jackson, cutting him off so that he couldn't get ahead of him. By the time they reached the other side of the pool, Jackson was stuck in the corner, with Mark practically on top of him.

They stopped, and Mark turned to set off again, only to run into Jackson. 

The laugh died halfway through Jackson's mouth, as he stared at Mark's surprised face.

As Mark stood up, Jackson's hands moved to grip the edges of the pool. Their purpose: to keep Mark from leaving. Jackson didn't know what he was doing. His chest was heaving in exhaustion, and yet, every cell in Jackson's body felt alive, so passionately, completely alive. 

Mark would have held his breath, if he could manage it. His own chest was heaving, and he was confused; why didn't he simply shove Jackson away and finish the race? He wanted to blame it on the sole fact that he was taking a break, but he didn't think that was entirely correct. 

Jackson's eyes were trained on Mark's. That is, until he noticed Mark's tongue creeping along his bottom lip, a nervous habit. 

And Jackson did the unthinkable. 

He leaned in and kissed Mark.

** I was tempted to leave it there, but instead, let's get a little juicy **

Jackson could taste a hint of chlorine on Mark's lips, but it wasn't enough to make him pull away. He was convinced that nothing could possibly get him to pull away from Mark's lips. It just wasn't something that he wanted to do.

It was cliche, but Mark's lips were softer than he could have imagined, probably thanks to his almost obsessive use of chapstick. That had always got Jackson wondering, was he doing it because he wanted his lips to be soft when he got kissed? Or was that just Jackson's wishful thinking?

God, Jackson had pictured this moment so many times, he had dreamed about it, day dreamed about it, fantasized about it at every free moment. But he still wasn't prepared for the explosion of feelings that erupted the moment their lips met. He thought his insides were mush by the time the first second passed, but as long as his lips were still on Mark's, he didn't care if the rest of his body melted.

He hadn't even noticed that he had closed his eyes. It didn't matter, because in that moment, he felt as if he could see everything. He knew the meaning of life. All the knowledge in the world was found in the pressures of Mark's lips, and suddenly Jackson wanted to be the smartest person to ever exist. 

As for Mark, he was frozen. He had never expected this to happen. Hell, he had just gone out to make sure his friend wasn't drowning, and now he was kissing said friend. Did it count as kissing if he didn't respond?

Well, it definitely counted now, as his lips moved instinctively, pressing back against Jackson's gentle kiss. What was it about Jackson's lips that felt so right? Why hadn't he felt this way with all his girlfriends? Christ, he'd never thought he was bisexual before, but now, he wasn't so sure. 

However, when Jackson stepped closer, his chest touching Mark's, Mark finally snapped out of it. 

Leaning his head back, he let out a few nervous exhales, avoiding Jackson's eyes. He knew Jackson would look like a lost puppy, but he was too scared to let the situation escalate any further.

He was grateful that Jackson moved his hands to his sides without needing to be asked. Mark didn't feel so trapped, but why did he feel so sad?

"Um, I don't," Mark struggled to find what to say. This situation was too much for him, and his stomach curled at all the worries that grew from the situation. This was definitely not something friends would do, and now things would become awkward. He'd never wanted to consider that Jackson had developed feelings for him.

No, maybe this was just a friendly, 'thanks for swimming with me' kiss. It didn't mean anything. Right?

"Mark, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just..."

Mark couldn't respond, so he did what he did best. He ran away.