tea lights (6/8)

[gotchick]

year 3, fall

the cherry blossoms drift down from the trees outside the school gate as jackson walks through on the first morning of senior year, pausing for a brief moment to tilt his face up, feel the light breeze on his skin and admire the china blue of the sky. it seems like only yesterday; that day exactly two years ago when he had opened his eyes to the clinking of bicycle chains to see mark standing there with stricken eyes, looking breathtaking with cherry blossoms swirling down around him. maybe at that moment, jackson had already subconsciously fallen for him.

he sees a few stray freshmen here and there among the students filing in, recognizable from the mixture of uncertainty and lost-sheep look in their eyes. it's hard to believe that he had been so young and impressionable once, his whole high school life ahead of him. jackson smiles encouragingly at one of them, a shy-looking bespectacled girl, who promptly trips over her shoelaces and blushes vigorously.

he suppresses a laugh and wonders if he looks as cool to her as mark had that first day of freshman year. way cooler, probably, jackson thinks unselfconsciously, slicking back his sideburns and swaggering into school. jinyoung is waiting for him in class.

jinyoung looks like a drowning man clutching at a lifebuoy when jackson walks into their new classroom on the first storey. they've waited two whole years for the privileges of being seniors, the most coveted one not needing to climb up one to two flights of stairs to get to their classroom. jackson sees the inseparable mixture of relief and bittersweet nostalgia in jinyoung's eyes, and feels a pang in his chest.

"cool entrance," jinyoung jokes as he unslings his bag and settles down on the chair next to him. jackson laughs appreciatively at his inside joke, and jinyoung finally relaxes.

aside from the obvious privileges and respect accorded to them for being the oldest batch of students, they soon learn that senior year isn't going to be much fun. their teachers sternly lecture them about the importance of keeping their grades up if they want to get into good colleges and extol remedial classes and after-school study groups for lagging students. all in all, it's a sober and subdued mood that hangs over them as they trudge to the cafeteria together finally during recess.

thankfully, they are saved from another wave of emptiness when they walk up to their usual picnic table to see it already occupied by bambam, youqian and rongzai. youqian and rongzai are giggling about something breathlessly, in their own world, while bambam is looking around the courtyard eagerly with what they can predictably guess is excitement to see tzuyu after the long holidays.

"xuezhang!" bambam calls shrilly when he spots them, lighting up. his energy is infectious and jackson grudgingly cheers up, ruffling his hair as he swings his leg over the bench gracelessly and sits down, throwing the bag of buns he had purchased with jinyoung at the canteen. "treat for you guys," he says carelessly, and the three youngest immediately chorus their thanks and dig in enthusiastically.

youqian and rongzai are more reserved, but they offer jackson and jinyoung sympathetic and encouraging smiles and jackson thinks that maybe they have an inkling of their mixed emotions. rongzai looks a little bummed too. he had always had a soft spot for jaebum in particular because jaebum spoiled him more than any of the juniors.

at dismissal, though, jackson checks his phone and brightens to see what he has been hoping for all day. one new message from mark baobao, the notification reads. jackson's face aches with a dopey grin as he clicks it open at once.

he blinks to see what looks like a snail in a small cardboard box. look what i found on the way back from school, the text reads.

jackson laughs out loud, elbowing jinyoung to take a look. it's so typical for mark to randomly rescue a snail along the sidewalk while cycling home. jackson can imagine too vividly him nearly crushing the fragile snail's shell with his bicycle tires, and feeling stricken with guilt as he crouched down to check if it was okay, picking it up with gentle hands and placing it in an abandoned cardboard box he found nearby.

because mark is that kind of shoujo manga male lead who doesn't exist in real life, the kind who rescues abandoned animals by the roadside, stray puppies and kittens and takes them in. a snail, though? jackson snickers and shakes his head, but whacks jinyoung's arm when he crows with laughter. he's the only one allowed to laugh at mark.

cute, jackson texts back, tongue in cheek. have you reached home?

his phone vibrates in less than a minute. yes, it reads simply with a smiley face, and jackson feels a pang of disappointment. not that he had expected mark to ask to meet up today or anything. he understands that mark must be tired out from the first day of school and busy with things to settle.

but as he is walking out of the school gates with jinyoung, he stops in his tracks to see mark standing on the sidewalk, leaning against his bicycle, a sheepish smile on his face.

"surprise," he mumbles shyly when jackson walks up, and jackson laughs in genuine delight and throws his arms around mark in a hug that makes him stagger back, careless of the onlookers.

taking pity on jinyoung who looks envious of their ability to meet up so easily and pitifully lonely, mark locks his bicycle to the school rack and they set off on foot, then by bus to have a late lunch in the city. while chomping on crispy fried pork cutlets, mark reports to them the highlights of his first day at university.

his voice sounds uncharacteristically animated as he rambles about his new lessons and classes and school, and jackson feels a twinge of longing. he knows he should be happy for mark that he's adjusting well to his new school, but jackson can't help wishing they were taking this leap together. sometimes the one year gap between them feels more like ten.

gradually though, as time passes, jackson starts getting used to mark and jaebum no longer being in the same school as them. although he can't see the heart-throbbing sight of mark looking boyish in his scruffy, untucked school uniform anymore, jackson's not insensitive enough not the be grateful that he's still just one phone call, one bus ride away. unlike jaebum.

on his part, jinyoung is being a trooper too, keeping his spirits upbeat and regaining his cheerful self after a few weeks of looking forlorn. jackson knows that he chats with jaebum on facetime, line and kakaotalk daily and they have to make do with this long-distance relationship.

part of the credit of jackson's smooth adaptation to his third year has to go to mark, who seems to sense jackson's innermost feelings with startling sensitivity even though he doesn't say anything. even though jackson knows mark must be having a tough time himself trying to adjust to life as a university student, he always hides his tiredness and stress when he sees jackson, putting on a reassuring and sweet smile.

they've been together for nearly half a year now, but everything still makes jackson think of mark. on rainy days, the smell of rain makes him think of mark in the club room draping his jacket over jackson's shoulders as they listened to ballads together, his smile soulful. on sunny days, when jackson walks to the ice cream truck to get a cone of ice cream alone, he remembers mark holding his hand carefully like it was the most precious thing in the world and leading jackson down the avenue sheltered by the ceiling of overlapping cypress trees, the sunlight shimmering through the leaves.

he takes a selca of himself with the cone, sending it to mark.

his phone vibrates in a minute. he laughs to see that mark is learning to use line stickers and emoticons. eat one for me too, his message says cutely.

i miss you.

it doesn't taste the same without you, jackson texts in reply.

i miss you too.

jackson hasn't been in a relationship before, but he thinks it's about time they moved on from their puppy crush days of giddy infatuation. and yet, he still finds his thoughts filled with mark, consumed by him.

if anything, his feelings for mark seem to grow each and every day, as he gets to know him better, even though jackson had thought he couldn't possibly like him a single bit more, that his heart couldn't contain a little bit more adoration. instead, it swells to accomodate these burgeoning emotions with a capacity he hadn't known he possessed.

i am crazy in love with you, jackson thinks, looking at the lockscreen of his phone, which is mark's selca from his birthday of him wearing his earring in bed. mark looks so young there, his hair still black. he had dyed it back to blonde again when he entered university, taking advantage of the more lenient dress code. it's not exactly the same shade as the smoke-silver strands from the second day they met, but a white-blonde that makes him look like an ethereal angel.

he still can't bring himself to say the words that mark said on his eighteenth birthday back, even though he means them with all his heart. it's like there's a dam in his throat they're stuck behind. it's nothing new, because jackson has never been good at sappy confessions. even to his parents, he blanches at the thought of saying the cheesy three words to them.

mark doesn't seem to mind, but jackson sometimes wonders if mark thinks the reason for jackson's non-response is that he is uncertain of his feelings. he hopes not.

jackson likes carding his hands through mark's silken, flaxen locks, feeling them sift between his fingers as mark kisses him slow and deep. he likes the way mark tangles his fingers in jackson's hair in return, tugging and twisting lightly when he gets too passionately absorbed in the kiss, his large hands cradling the back of jackson's head tenderly.

(not that jackson's hands are small. when he cups mark's small face with his palms they seem flatteringly big in comparison and jackson likes that, likes the way mark's smile is huger than his face just like his heart is huger than he knows what to do with it.)

in an ideal universe, jackson would be smooth and slick and eloquent, knowing exactly how to put his feelings and mark's beautiful qualities into words. he would be tall and devastatingly handsome and powerful, sweeping mark off his feet and making him blush the way jackson does when mark laughs that breathless high-pitched laugh, eyes sparkling at him.

but in this one, he's imperfect and shorter than he would like. because of fencing his thighs are disproportionately muscled in his opinion and he's nowhere near good-looking.

but the way mark looks at jackson... sometimes, it makes him feel that he's just right. absolutely perfect exactly the way he is, flaws and insecurities and all.

as perfect as mark.

"why'd you bleach your hair again?" jackson asks mark one afternoon when he had specially dropped by the school after dismissal to fetch jackson home on his bicycle. on the way back along a particularly deserted and windswept path, they had disembarked and mark had pressed jackson up against a tree and kissed him so worshipfully jackson had to fight for breath.

mark lets out an almost pained-sounding exhale, dark eyelashes thrown across his cheekbones as he closes his eyes at jackson's touch. when he opens them, jackson's heart misses a beat at the glitter in them.

"didn't you say you liked it, back then?" mark replies softly, his eyes glinting with amusement.

jackson abruptly recalls the careless note he had tossed to mark out of boredom in detention. he can't believe mark had actually bleached his hair twice just because of one throwaway remark from jackson.

"i'm going to dye my hair too when i start university," he whispers, stroking mark's fairy-white tresses, but mark doesn't look happy with the idea.

"i don't want you to." he wrinkles his nose, and jackson laughs, tweaking it. "why?"

mark blushes faintly. "you attract too much attention already," he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of jackson's shoulder and sucking a mark into his collarbone.

when he walks into the club room one tuesday a few weeks into the first term, jackson almost expects to see mark sitting on a desk in a rectangle of sunlight slanting through the window, looking up from the shounen manga he's reading and smiling welcomingly at jackson.

instead, he sees bambam horsing and clowning around trying to attract tzuyu's attention while she and the rest of the club pay him no mind. youqian and rongzai are messing around on the piano as usual, a discordant chord ringing out from beneath youqian's fingers as he accidentally applies weight on his hand when he looks up at their arrival, distracted. the rest of the members are mooching around leisurely in their own little groups, some doing homework and revision and the more enthusiastic few actually holding astronomy-related discussions.

although the rest of the members have tried their utmost to make up for jaebum and mark's absence, knowing that jackson and jinyoung miss them sorely, it's not the same. when jackson steps onto the podium to take attendance, it's halfheartedly and when jinyoung opens his laptop and launches into the slideshow about the big bang and universe theory they have prepared about today's meeting, it's with much less conviction than jaebum's impassioned speeches.

the more they try to ignore it, to pretend it's not there, the more obvious it is that mark and jaebum's absence is a hole that no one else can fill. no one else was really as passionate about astronomy as them, as knowledgeable.

just when jinyoung's voice is tapering off uncertainly as jackson misses a slide and is fumbling to find it again, familiar footsteps make his breath hitch in his throat.

disbelievingly, jackson looks up to see mark standing in the doorway of the classroom, looking like a dream and smiling straight at him.

"mark-hyung!" jinyoung shrieks in surprise, breaking the astounded silence of all the members, and then they all rush forward in a stampede to pile over him in a haphazard group hug.

when jackson finally sees mark again, he is smiling so widely his eyes crinkle into crescents, his cheeks flushed with moved delight at the warm welcome. all the members look emotional with missing and thrilled to see him.

the people between them fall away, and jackson takes tentative steps towards mark, afraid he will burst into bubbles like an apparition.

"what are you doing here?" he whispers in wonder.

mark laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "i finished classes early, so i thought i'd drop by to see how things were going."

his eyes flicker to the powerpoint presentation on the projector screen, then clear with comprehension as he seems to read jackson's ineptitude and helplessness like a book.

"go take a break," he leans in to whisper into jackson's ear, his fingers sliding down jackson's arm and loosening the slides from his grasp. "i'll take over from here."

after holding a low consultation with jinyoung for a few seconds, mark sends him to sit down too with a pat on his back and takes over the presentation seamlessly. jackson watches spellbound mark's shadow thrown onto the projector screen, larger than life, solid and assuring. his chest soars. mark is back, and jackson doesn't feel hollow anymore.

subsequently, mark starts dropping in more often on tuesday afternoons to sit in on their club meetings as a mentor. he gets special permission from the school to oversee their sessions as a consultant and ex-president and their meetings seem to regain their usual animated magic again.

even though jaebum isn't around, mark tries his best to fill up the empty spaces. the earnestness in his eyes touches jackson. since mark started the club from scratch, he and jaebum have given up so much for the club. it's their lifeblood, their sweat and hard work, and jackson vows to protect it better from now on.

after meetings, mark will usually walk jackson to his locker to get his books and then set home at a leisurely pace. walking alongside jackson in his plain clothes down the corridor, mark seems more grown-up somehow. once, when the hallway is deserted, mark boldly crowds jackson against the very same locker they had kissed at the last time.

but this time, the way he kisses jackson is soft and sweet and achingly tender. jackson tastes an apology in the gentle and hesitant probing of mark's tongue, the wordless and flannel-soft warmth in his eyes as he gazes into jackson's, deepening the kiss. it's as if he wants to do over the kiss from last year, replace the memories with a better and happier one. jackson tightens his grasp in the collar of mark's shirt and kisses back hard enough to say i forgive you.

this time, when jackson opens his eyes again, the corridor is still empty and it's only mark looking down indulgently at him, his eyes like galaxies jackson could lose his way in.

he shamelessly borrows mark's ipod for long stretches of time, like a dog hogging a chew toy or peeing to mark its territory. listening to mark's numerous playlists for every occasion, jackson somehow feels his presence, even when he's not beside him. he falls asleep to jay chou singing silence and wakes up in the middle of the night, throat parched and disoriented.

the halogen glow of the ipod screen makes him blink and squint in the darkness of his bedroom as he unlocks the screen. mark had changed the wallpaper finally in january, the same picture that sits in a photo frame proudly displayed on jackson's beside table. it's the group photograph the four of them had taken the day they sent jaebum off at the airport in december. in it, jaebum and jinyoung are smiling dazzlingly but their eyes are filled with the shadow of impending heartbreak, and mark and jackson have their arms slung sloppily around each other's shoulders, flashing peace signs like the bestest dude bros. jackson chokes back a shaky laugh and runs his thumb over the miniscule thumbnail of mark's smiling face.

after scrolling and exploring idly for a few more minutes, he finds a playlist simply entitled jackson. curious, he clicks it open.

there's only a single song inside, one love by loveholic. jackson has never heard it before.

when he plays it, though, he falls in love at first listen.

when he returns the ipod to mark, he casually asks about the playlist and is surprised to see mark turn red and start stuttering nervously.

"um... er... it's nothing, just a song i wanted to introduce to you."

"oh..." jackson hums, frowning.

mark beats a hasty retreat, throwing a flimsy excuse over his shoulder and leaves jackson standing there alone more puzzled than ever.

after he turned eighteen, mark's physique changes and matures subtly, losing his baby fat, his upper body filling out and shoulders growing noticeably broader. faint shadows darken his undereyes and jackson worries that he's overworking himself. he knows that mark had taken over jaebum's duties at the planetarium, working full-time during the summer vacation and part-time during the school term. not only does mark see it as his duty as a friend to jaebum to do his job as well as jaebum did, jackson also knows better than anybody that mark is working hard for their future.

he feels spoiled and idle and indulgent, not doing a thing to contribute to their shared savings while mark is working his ass off but mark staunchly refuses to let him take up any part-time job during his senior year.

"you have to do well," he says softly, pinching jackson's cheek gently. "otherwise, how are you going to get into my university?"

jackson doesn't protest. it had already sapped all his energy to convince mark that he wanted to attend the same university as him, not out of an impulsive and reckless decision made because of romantic feelings but because it has a reputable fencing team and the major jackson wants to study.

thankfully, he had managed to finally convince mark that jackson's decision was made in the best interests of his future and not just to be near mark for another three years. well, jackson might have been a little less than honest on this point, but he figures that a little white lie is worth it if he can spend another three years with mark. another three years in paradise.

mark moves into his new apartment a few months into the start of the year. it's the size of a postage stamp, a cramped and slightly dingy rental, but mark's eyes shine as if he can see their love nest in the chipped tiles and faded off-white walls covered with peeling wallpaper.

on the first day, after mark is done with all the heavy lifting and exhausted from moving crates and boxes, jinyoung and jackson shoo him out on an errand so they can set up for his housewarming party.

once he's gone, they excitedly unpack the can of fresh paint, brushes and materials they had purchased from the home decorating shop. they completely refurbish mark's bedroom, brightening up the dull interior with cheap secondhand lava lamps they scavenged from thrift shop and a patchwork blanket youqian's mother had generously donated, spreading it over his bed.

next, jackson climbs up precariously on a ladder with jinyoung holding the bottom steady and paints the whole ceiling prussian blue, so it looks like the viewing room at the planetarium they had gone to, opening up directly to the night sky.

after the paint dries, he painstakingly pastes the more than fifty glow-in-the-dark star stickers they had bought in the shape of a wishbone, adding a sickle moon in the corner as a final touch.

when they are finally done, the result looks magnificent. jinyoung sighs in satisfaction as they draw the curtains and turn off the lights, the glow-in-the-dark stickers emitting their faint golden-white glow in the dimness of the room.

after they clear up the waste and remaining materials, jinyoung gets a call and unexpectedly bails on jackson, making him protest shrilly, "what about the housewarming party?"

jinyoung looks over at the bags of groceries and junk food on the dining table and shrugs. "we didn't buy many perishables anyway. you can keep the rest in the fridge."

"park jinyoung," jackson growls, "i swear, if you're trying to pull some trick --"

but jinyoung is all angelic smiles and sincere apologies. "it was jaebum-hyung who called, and he's only free to skype me this evening."

jackson can hardly detain him, even though he feels awkward waiting for mark alone in his house which suddenly feels much bigger and more vacant than it had initially seemed.

when mark gets back with the pizza they sent him to buy, he looks confused to see only jackson waiting for him in the house forlornly flicking through tv channels.

"where's jinyoung?" he asks, setting the box on the dining table.

"gone," jackson says flatly. "he had to leave first. i guess it's just us."

he's slightly offended by the way mark blanches. sure, it would have been more fun with three of them, but after jackson thought it over, he had realized he wouldn't mind a solitary night alone with mark either. they hadn't had spent time together for awhile.

he switches off the tv and stands up, suddenly feeling unwelcome. "i can go, if you want." he tries to sound offhand and light.

"no!" mark blurts out immediately, grabbing his elbow. his eyes are wide as if he thinks jackson will insist on leaving.

jackson sits down on the couch again, feeling a little relieved but still unsure. his stomach is churning and he can't imagine feeling hungry for pizza right now.

mark's grip loosens on his arm, and trails up his bicep with a featherlight touch that makes goosebumps rise on jackson's skin. his body tingles.

mark traces a path up his shoulder, to his jaw, turning his hand over to graze his knuckles over jackson's cheekbones.

"you have paint on your face," he says softly, bringing it down to show jackson the smudge on the back of his hand.

jackson flushes, shifting away a little. "y-yeah, we painted your bedroom. do you want to see?"

"sure," mark says, moving closer again easily, his smile ambiguous in the half-light.

jackson feels him trailing at his heels as he leads the way to mark's bedroom. when he turns the knob to open the door, mark inhales audibly.

he takes apprehensive steps in, neck craned to take in the panorama above.

"jia-er," he murmurs in wonder. "it's beautiful."

jackson feels a warm glow swelling in his heart. "you like it?"

without warning, mark turns around, eyes glowing like the stars, and lifts jackson off his feet, swinging him around in a dizzy, breathless circle. jackson doesn't even have time to shriek.

"i love it," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of jackson's mouth. "thank you."

jackson blushes with pleasure as mark sets him back down again, muttering self-deprecatingly, "it's no big deal. jinyoung helped a lot."

"hey, wait," mark objects, frowning. "isn't it a housewarming tradition for newlyweds for the groom to carry the bride over the threshold?"

"we're not newlyweds," jackson counters reflexively, realizing a moment later from mark's devilish smirk that he should've said i'm not the bride.

jackson groans as mark ushers him out of the room again. "haven't you got enough of carrying me?" he complains halfheartedly, but is secretly thrilled when mark gathers him up again easily, this time bridal style with his arms below jackson's knees and beneath his arms. he really has grown impressively stronger. the scrawny boy from high school would never have been able to lift jackson up effortlessly like this.

he hears mark's soft panting as he walks slowly into the room, stepping over the threshold ceremoniously with an ironic smile on his face. he kicks the door shut behind them, then carefully lowers jackson down and sets him gently on the bedspread.

jackson feels inexplicably breathless, even though he was the one being carried. after mark has laid him down, he leans over jackson with both arms bracketing jackson's shoulders and for a breathtaking moment jackson thinks that this is it, that mark is going to finally submit to his urges and screw his stupid pact to wait till jackson is eighteen.

but then mark moves back and stands up again, not meeting jackson's eyes as he puts a respectful distance between them. the air in the room suddenly feels a few degrees hotter, a few notches more awkward.

oh, jackson thinks, abruptly realizing that they're completely alone in a tiny room. with only one bed.

he quickly jerks up from his lying position into a sitting posture, avoiding mark's eyes too.

mark hovers by the wall, looking absurdly awkward like he needs jackson's permission to sit down in his own room until jackson finally pats the bed beside him and moves to give mark space.

mark edges forward hesitantly and settles down an arm's length away from him, the narrow bed dipping. jackson absently observes that it would be a tight fit for two people to squeeze into, then blushes at the audacity of his thoughts.

seeming to want to dissipate the heavy tension a little, mark's eyes drift up to the ceiling again. he sighs like jinyoung had, eyes glazing over as he admires the artistry of jackson's self-constructed constellation.

"i've never seen that one before," he says, a note of amusement in his voice. "what's it called?"

jackson's heart lurches at the teasing note deepening mark's voice.

"yi-en," he blurts out jokingly, thoughtlessly, and suddenly mark is looming over him again, his face taking up jackson's entire field of vision, his eyes wide and stark and bruised.

"jackson," mark says hushedly, the two english syllables in his slurring drawl going straight to jackson's dick. then the arm's length between them becomes half, an inch, a centimetre, one breath, and mark is very much in jackson's personal space as jackson frustratedly pushes his the collar of his jacket back over his shoulders, mark's hands pinioning his own shoulders to the hard mattress as he pushes a rough leg impudently between jackson's thighs. jackson rolls his hips down, rubbing against mark's denim-clothed knee, and hears him inhale sharply.

in the end, they never go all the way. but they do come precariously, thrillingly close, closer than they've ever been before. breaking more rules than mark has ever allowed jackson or himself to break before today.

jackson senses that mark has lost control of himself too, but with an impressive willpower he manages to regain his senses, and they find themselves lying chastely side by side on the bed one hour later, staring up at the ceiling, unable to look at each other without blushing.

to fill the stilted silence, mark deploys his usual distraction tactic -- rambling about stars.

"did you know that when i was really young, i thought that you could reach out and grab the stars from the sky, and bottle them up like a firefly?"

jackson shakes his head, still lost for words.

mark laughs. "the year i was five, that was all i asked for christmas and my birthday. i wanted it more than anything in the world, my own personal star that would shine only for me."

"did you get it?" jackson enquires, interest piqued.

mark pauses, lost in the memories. "nope. i got a playstation instead. but to cheer me up, my father took me aside and told me, one day, yi-en, someone is going to love you so much they would pluck the moon from the sky for you."

"and...?"

"i didn't know it was only an analogy until years later. i really believed that one day, i would meet that person who loved me so deeply, it gave them the supernatural power to pluck the moon out of the sky for me."

"i would," jackson says, voice hoarse.

"what?" mark turns to him, eyes wide.

jackson smiles tremulously, raising a trembling hand to mark's face to tuck his hair behind his ear. "i would be willing to spend the rest of my life trying."

mark's eyes melt into liquid, luminous in the dark only broken by the pinpoints of manmade stars on the far-off manmade sky above, like diamond dust. jackson would be mark's sky and he would willingly be the stars that lit up that sky too. he would be everything mark needed, and more.

he thinks of the alchemy of the stars, how they seemed to hold all the secrets of the universe. knowing everything and revealing nothing. all-seeing, all-accepting. he wanted to be that for mark, too, if he could.

one tuesday afternoon at the end of the club meeting, they bid goodbye to the rest of the members, the six of them setting off separately on an excursion rongzai had invited them on. he's planning to adopt a puppy and they have all agreed to help him pick one out at the local animal shelter.

in the end, they barely need to make more than a round before all their minds are made, surprisingly unanimously. a white maltese, almost tiny enough to fit into a teacup, has stolen all their hearts effortlessly.

"her given name is heart," the pleasant girl working at the animal shelter tells them as she fills out their adoption form. "we found her in a shoebox at the entrance of the shelter on the morning of valentine's day."

"xin?" rongzai repeats, sounding out the single chinese syllable, and jackson feels mark opening his palm and tracing the few strokes of the chinese character onto the inside of his hand.

you're holding my heart in your hands.

he smiles, closing his fingers over the invisible word, and mark gives him a close-mouthed, secretive answering smile too.

as they walk out, rongzai holding the puppy swaddled like an infant in a layer of blankets carefully and gently in his arms, they discuss whether to keep the name the staff had given.

"maybe something similar, but not exactly the same," rongzai decides.

they throw about a few suggestions, until mark pipes up, "what about coco?"

"coco?" they repeat, trying out the name on their tongues.

mark nods. "derived from kokoro. it means heart in japanese."

"it's cute. i like it," rongzai pronounces, a pleased grin spreading over his face. "thanks, xuezhang."

mark laughs and ruffles his hair. "you're welcome."

as mark had named her, they officially christen him her godfather. the gentleness of mark's hands dwarving coco's body and how carefully he handles her as he cradles her against his chest makes something stir deep inside jackson's own chest.

they take turns holding the snuffling and good-natured puppy, their adoration for her growing and expanding as they pass her around. bambam whips out his phone and starts snapping pictures of her in everyone's arm, especially his own. coco is surprisingly more photogenic than any of them, even mark, her limpid eyes peering mournfully into the camera without blinking in every picture.

in this manner, they coo and fuss over her all the way to rongzai's house, where they finally part ways reluctantly after rongzai's doting mother offers them drinks and they decide it's time to let coco rest from her long day and move to a new home.

as they walk back to the bus stop after youqian and bambam have taken the crossroads to the train station, jackson picks some white fur coco had shedded off mark's cotton shirt. it's almost the same colour as mark's hair and for some reason he finds that unbearably adorable.

mark blushes under jackson's ministrations. finding his reaction amusing, jackson deliberately leans closer to take a deep whiff -- partially for his own selfish motives; it's been ages since he last inhaled mark's intoxicating, unique scent and it's foggy in his memory.

instead of the familiar jasmine and vanilla fragrance he expects, though, jackson sniffs something heavier, not unpleasant but musky and adult.

"are you wearing cologne?" he yelps, voice a pitch higher than usual.

mark immediately shrinks back, retreating from jackson in a way that makes his heart skip a bewildered and hurt beat.

"y-yeah, just a little," mark hedges evasively, quickening his footsteps towards the bus stop.

in the bus, he sits down beside another passenger, although there are free twin seats available. growing steadily more confused, jackson sinks down on the seat alone and watches the back of mark's head as he stares silently out of the bus window, eyes impenetrable.

mark doesn't get up when jackson gets to his stop, nor does he ask jackson with his usual shyness whether he wants to come over to mark's apartment. jackson trudges out of the bus with his shoulders hunched, feeling disappointed.

he soon finds out the reason for mark's sudden withdrawn reticence one tuesday afternoon when they are walking towards mark's bicycle and jackson bravely slips a hand into the back pocket of mark's jeans, out of sight behind the back wall of the school.

he is surprised when he finds the pocket not empty, his fingers detecting a rectangular cardboard box.

jackson feels around, sensing mark's head turning as he feels jackson rooting around in his pocket.

the shape is... but it can't be... the look on mark's face, guilty and embarrassed, confirms jackson's suspicions.

rudely, he extracts the packet of cigarettes and shoves it in mark's face, accusingly.

"you smoke now?" he demands incredulously. when he hears himself, he flushes at the disgust his own voice is dripping with.

it's not that he's that upset mark has started smoking, per se. what breaks jackson's heart more is that he hadn't told him. what other secrets is mark keeping from him?

mark grabs the packet of cigarettes back, face red and shoves it back into his pocket. "jia-er, let me explain --" he starts pleadingly, but jackson cuts him off.

"is that why we haven't been kissing much lately? because you didn't want me to find out? god." he shakes his head angrily, hands trembling.

"that's because i knew you would react this way," mark's voice is rising too, his nerves seeming frayed. "i knew you'd disapprove."

jackson can't believe the righteous and defensive tone in mark's voice. "you expected me to approve of you smoking?" he says, words laced with heavy sarcasm.

"i don't even do it often," mark sounds obviously flustered now, his face blotchy and voice breaking. "i just... when i'm stressed..."

for a moment, the sheer frustration and helplessness in mark's voice makes jackson falter with a twinge of sympathy. after all, he is only mark's boyfriend. not his mother, or his keeper. mark is a legal adult. if he wants to smoke, it's his own right to, his own body he's damaging and no matter how concerned jackson is for his health it would be overstepping his boundaries to interfere with mark's life choices.

he realizes that what is sending his mind reeling, more than the discovery of mark's destructive habit, is the little things that are falling into place now -- why mark always tastes freshly of spearmint toothpaste when they kiss, but there's a tinge of something else beneath, something bitter and foreign which jackson now identifies as nicotine.

how could he have been so dense and oblivious, easily hoodwinked? jackson feels like a gullible fool and his pride is still sorely injured that mark hadn't trusted him enough to confide such an important thing to him.

mark is still looking at him with round, mutely beseeching eyes, running a panicked hand through his hair, and jackson realizes his silence is keeping him in suspense about jackson's reaction.

too confused to give mark the closure of an answer right now, jackson keeps his face blank and inscrutable as he turns on his heel without another word.

mark is instantly behind him, his hand closing around jackson's arm. "where are you going?" he asks tightly.

jackson shakes off his grip blasely. "i'll go home by myself today."

"jia-er --" mark starts helplessly, standing rooted to the ground as he watches jackson walk away. he sounds like his world is falling apart and jackson doesn't feel pity but instead a cruel voice intoning serves you right in his mind.

jackson takes the bus home mechanically and numbly, staring unseeingly out at the scenery flashing past the window. a convoluted mix of emotions flits wildly through his mind -- bitter disappointment, wounded pride, incomprehension and resentment. he still can't believe that mark had managed to keep something so big from him, for who knows how long. if this is the case, what does he actually know about mark?

jackson suddenly has the chilly feeling that he's dating a stranger.

mark sends him a string of messages that night, ranging from apologetic to curt to desperately begging for forgiveness. jackson doesn't reply any, but he reads all of them.

"i only started recently," one of them says. "i swear, i only did it a handful of times so far."

"i'll quit if you want me to," the latest one just reads simply, and jackson's traitorous heart flutters with hope. will mark really not touch a single cigarette from now on for him?

he tosses and turns restlessly in bed that night, unable to shake the anxiety and fall asleep. it's the first time they've had a real quarrel or argument and it's not easy going to sleep with the knowledge that things aren't right between the both of them.

when he gives in to temptation and unlocks his phone, he sees a new message from mark, sent eleven minutes ago. "jcksnn,,,, , ple  ase" the message reads incoherently, and jackson sits up in bed, heart racing and blood simmering again. is mark drunk, barely an hour after he promised to quit smoking?

"god dammit," he mutters under his breath, digging his nails into his palm and resisting the urge to hurl his phone at the wall. despite everything, he's worried about mark. is he at home or elsewhere? did he manage to get back safely, or is he wandering the streets falling down drunk and picking brawls with homeless thugs?

jackson keeps up the string of profanities under his breath as he swings his covers off and his feet to the floor, getting up. he's about to rush out the house in his sleepwear -- a thin tank top and boxers -- when he realizes he could just call mark. duh.

he holds his breath as the phone rings once, twice. after the fifth ring and a lot of nervous tapping of his fingers on the wall, mark thankfully answers.

"where the hell are you?" jackson demands without preamble, voice rough.

mark's voice sounds slurred when he replies, and jackson's stomach tightens. he had been drinking.

"at... home..." mark mumbles, or something that sounds like it.

"jesus," jackson mutters, despite his heart plummeting in relief. "stay right there and don't move an inch until i get there," he commands, hastily pulling on the school jacket mark had given him with one arm.

jackson takes the bus to the stop near mark's house, then dashes straight to his apartment, pounding on the lift buttons as if it will get the slow elevator to crawl up faster.

when he arrives on mark's doorstep, panting and out of breath, his heart is doing somersaults in his chest and his mind is clouded with anger. how dare mark worry him like this -- undo him like this... jackson has never felt so out of control before and he hates feeling like this.

he raises a white-knuckled fist and pounds on the door impatiently, careless of disturbing the neighbours so late at night. he hears the clatter of a piece of furniture falling over inside the house and his heart swoops. he knocks louder.

the door swings open and mark topples out, limp body slumping into jackson's unprepared arms. with difficulty, jackson rights his heavy frame and shuffles them into the house awkwardly, closing the door behind him.

he puts mark to bed, placing a folded cool damp towel on his forehead and finally heaving a sigh of drained relief. it's been an emotional day and an eventful night and right now, jackson isn't in the mood to think of anything. he just wants to sleep all the complicated troubles away. mark's pillow looks so terribly inviting and he's just so tired... maybe he'll just take forty winks...

jackson starts awake, his head jerking up to see mark flinching and pulling his hand away, eyes wide and afraid. his face is pale and drawn and he looks guilty and shifty-eyed, like he had been brushing jackson's hair away from his face when jackson woke up. his eyes slide away from jackson's, unable to be pinned down as he pushes the covers off and unsteadily climbs out of his bed, turning his back on jackson.

mark shuffles to the door, shoulders hunched into himself without bothering to try to talk to jackson, looking so defeated that jackson feels a guilty pang too. he wants to say wait but can't speak over the lump in his throat. the dusty morning light streams through the curtains and jackson blinks fully awake disorientedly. he never expected that his first night spent in mark's apartment would be in such a painful and unwanted way.

when he wanders out of the room gingerly, he hears the bathroom faucet running and the sounds of mark washing up and brushing his teeth. just as jackson is edging for the door, the bathroom door creaks open and mark emerges, towelling his face dry. his colour is mostly restored and he looks much better, the dew glimmering on his unblemished creamy skin making jackson's disobedient heart stutter.

mark still doesn't say anything, but he crosses the room in a few strides and stations himself in front of the front door, effectively blocking jackson's escape route.

jackson bristles. "are you trying to trap me here?" he challenges.

mark's face is carefully blank. "just give me five minutes."

"please," he adds, voice turning raw when jackson doesn't reply.

jackson folds his arms over his chest and tries to look tough and unaffected.

mark clears his throat, seeming at a loss for words now that he has gotten his chance to explain.

"i only did it a few times," he repeats the same refrain as his messages last night. "i'll stop if you want me to. i promise."

jackson keeps his voice cold. "what about the drinking?"

"drink--" mark starts in confusion, then falters, face reddening. "it's -- it's not an issue! i barely drink alcohol, you know that. it's just that last night --"

"i never want to have to worry about you getting trashed or shitfaced out of your mind alone, and possibly in danger, again," jackson interrupts harshly. "is that clear?"

mark shifts his feet, dropping his eyes to the ground and scuffs the floor with his slipper. "yes," he whispers.

jackson feels his heart softening unwillingly. yes, mark had behaved badly, disgracefully, irresponsibly. but it was all because he was frantic out of his mind worrying that jackson was angry with him, that jackson never wanted to see him again.

"you're driving me crazy," mark whispers hoarsely, raising his eyes to jackson, the naked frustration in his voice confirming jackson's thoughts.

he casts his eyes down to the floor again, and jackson is startled to see a renegade tear breaking free of mark's eyelashes and dripping onto the floor, making a wet spot.

"please, don't break up with me," mark begs. "i can't --" he chokes up.

"who said i was breaking up with you?" jackson blurts out, genuinely startled. the thought had never even crossed his mind. "i just... mark," he says firmly, striding forward and lifting mark's chin. "look at me. i was shocked and worried to find out that you smoked because everyone knows that smoking causes lung goddamn cancer."

jackson says the last few words forcefully, and mark looks stunned.

"it was just --" he starts weakly, but jackson cuts in.

"you might get addicted," he says harshly. "then what?"

"and," he adds, on a roll now, "alcohol could cause alcohol poisoning and liver failure and god knows how many thousand other problems that could kill you. do you think i could live with myself, if you drank yourself to death just because of me?"

"it's not that serious --" mark protests feebly, but jackson tackles him into a bone-crushing hug to shut him up. in his arms, mark's body feels wispier, brittle, all ropy muscles and hard jutting bone.

"i know i can't tell you what to do," jackson says by his ear, voice softening, and feels mark relaxing in his embrace. his heart pounds against jackson's chest, the nervous tattoo almost in unison with jackson's own. "but please, don't take chances with your health." i love you so much.

as jackson is taking a cab home to change into his uniform and return to school (even though he is a few hours late, mark had insisted that he not miss a single more lesson than necessary, it being his senior year so jackson texted jinyoung and told him to help make excuses. mark stayed home from university for the day but gave jackson money for a cab.), he finally allows himself to admit what was the thing that bothered him most about the whole issue from the start.

it's that he can't believe mark picked up smoking. mark, yi-en, geekiest nerd jackson has ever known, wholesome choirboy and president of the astronomy club, for chrissakes. mark whose eyes are like a gentle beast's and whose smile is so pristine it's like the fucking mountain springs or something. mark -- his mark -- is too sacred, too pure to do such a common and crass thing.

but, to jackson's disbelief, he had. and what jackson really couldn't accept, is that mark who he has always thought was incorruptible, has been corrupted.

true to his word, jackson never smells a whiff of cigarette smoke on mark any more after that day. his familiar, homely scent of fabric softener and vanilla soap and jasmine-scented shampoo returns and jackson inhales the clean and undiluted fragrance appreciatively as he nestles into mark's pliant arms.

mark is on his best behavior, attentive and doting and indulgent, smiling his radiant smile and giggling enthuasiastically at all of jackson's lame jokes. jackson feels his heart soar.

but mark seems to still be anxious about the issue, mistaking jackson watching him fondly as wariness and mistrust.

"i'm still me, you know," he says quietly, not elaborating, and jackson silently wonders what he means. even though mark has stopped smoking and doesn't drink, jackson realizes that it wasn't those acts that gave him that unsettling, new mature air. it was just something that mark had naturally acquired when he turned eighteen, like an invisible threshold he had passed and jackson hadn't.

he had never imagined that the year between seventeen and eighteen could seem like such a great divide.

jackson knows mark is hurt and saddened that jackson sometimes looks at him with narrowed and scrutinizing eyes like he's trying to figure out a stranger, but there's just something about this new, soon-to-be-nineteen-year-old mark that throws jackson off his bearings.

it's the way the prominent protrusion of his adam's apple bobs in the smooth ivory curve of his throat; the way his voice is deep and raspy like gravel or sandpaper; the lithe, pantherlike grace and leashed strength of his movements.

mark is a man in almost every single way now, and jackson still feels like a hopelessly adolescent teenager.

he would never admit it, but his biggest fear is that one day mark will see him for the kid he is, and lose interest in jackson at long last. he knows that when mark teasingly calls him brat it's meant as a term of endearment, but jackson can't help wincing anyway.

besides mark's quitting of his unhealthy habits, jackson can't help noticing and being concerned about his diet as well. some days, when jackson doesn't nag him or jinyoung forgets to drop by the supermarket to pick up his groceries, mark practically subsists on instant noodles, junk food and cup ramen.

jackson feels like a nagging housewife as he constantly berates and reminds mark to eat healthily and regularly. he understands that mark works long hours for his shift at the planetarium and when he gets back home late at night he's too exhausted to make any elaborate meals before crashing into bed. mark had borrowed money from his parents for the three-month security deposit of the house, and he's stubbornly prideful and independent, wanting to work and earn his own money to pay them back every single cent.

his house is sparse and bare, the one decadence or expensive piece of furniture in sight the top-of-the-range star-viewing telescope he had owned since he was ten and brought all the way from his family's house. it is perched by the window, pointed up at the sky and jackson has arrived at his house any number of times, letting himself in with the spare key mark gave him, to find mark lying on the floor with one eye squinted shut, the other peering deeply into the narrow end of the telescope like it held the secrets to the universe.

he knows that like jinyoung, mark still keeps in touch with jaebum regularly, talking to him more often than the approximately weekly random updates jackson exchanges with him via line and kakaotalk. when jackson surfed jaebum's instagram once, he found it full of nothing but pictures of the sky on various days, stars and the moon and the sun interspersed with the rare black and white shot of jaebum looking like an emo artsy hipster in his nerdy chic glasses. mark had commented on nearly every single photo except the selfies with technical lingo that jackson didn't even understand.

he is aware that mark envies jaebum, his freedom to pursue his dream, his bravery and determination in crossing oceans to do so. but it's a practical, realistic world they're living in, after all, and mark had to choose between pursuing his passion and a stable career and future. and romance.

and he had chosen jackson.

but still, jackson can't help wondering sometimes if deep down inside mark regrets his decision, and wishes he had flown to seoul with jaebum instead to study astronomy together. would he have done that, if he hadn't met jackson? they'll never know.

when jackson blinks awake on the day of his eighteenth birthday, it feels like he has been waiting for this day for centuries. lifetimes. it's almost too surreal to be true that it has finally dawned.

mark takes him out for dinner that evening at a fancy restaurant, dressed smartly in a red blazer with his blonde hair slicked back. he looks traffic-stoppingly gorgeous and edible and jackson hardly feels any appetite for the delectable food laid out across the candlelit table as he greedily drinks in the way the shadows flicker over the classically handsome planes of mark's face.

mark seems quieter than normal too, and they both know why even though they've studiedly avoided the topic all night. jackson has literally been waiting for this for nearly a year, three hundred and sixty-five agonizing days, but now that the day has come, he feels strangely clueless and fearful about how to proceed.

he can't believe he'll be losing his virginity tonight. it sounds like the plot of a bad teen movie, one of those low-budget trashy chick flicks that go straight to dvd, but then jackson remembers that it's mark -- purer than driven snow yi-en who he has waited to possess since forever, and all the reservations melt away.

"do you want cocoa?" mark asks after he lets them into his apartment. jackson had gotten permission from his parents to sleep over tonight, had packed condoms which he had purchased sneakily from a convenience store into his overnight bag. he's completely prepared, except for the part where he's been internally screaming all night.

jackson wants to laugh. it's so random -- cocoa? jackson had been fantasizing that maybe mark would turn into a beast once the door clicked shut, slamming jackson up against it and thrusting his tongue into jackson's mouth, kissing him stupid.

no such thing happens. mark remains the calm and slightly distracted self he's been all night. his detachment irks jackson. can it be possible that mark has completely forgotten about his vow, and thinks they are having an innocent sleepover tonight? jackson would rip his hair out in frustration if something so horrific happened.

but then he catches a glimpse of something in mark's eyes -- something exposed and terrified, and abruptly remembers the distant night nearly a year ago at the planetarium. on that day, they had drank hot chocolate before mark confessed that he had harboured feelings for jackson from the start. maybe it has some kind of significance to him.

"sure," jackson says lightly, taking off his jacket and sitting down on the sofa. he's nearly combusting at the volume of words they're not saying, beneath this seemingly mild and mundane conversation.

mark disappears into the kitchen and jackson hears the comforting, homely sounds of the kettle whistling and ceramic mugs clinking.

when mark exits the kitchen after five minutes, holding two steaming mugs, he nearly drops them on the floor when he sees jackson casually stripping off his long-sleeved shirt.

"w-what are you doing?" he demands shrilly.

jackson pauses, confused as mark unsteadily sets down the cups on the coffee table with shaky hands. he pulls the rest of the shirt over his shoulders easily, revealing the threadbare t-shirt he's wearing underneath. when an audible sigh of relief hisses through mark's teeth, jackson realizes he had thought he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

not that mark is a stranger to jackson's body, or anything. but today, he seems on tenterhooks, hyperaware of jackson's every movement and approach towards him, his body tensing up whenever jackson comes close.

so mark isn't as unaffected as he's pretending to be. jackson carefully picks up his cup of cocoa, blowing on the top and taking a sip before hiding his face behind the mug to study mark's expression. he is taking small sips of his own cup, looking brooding and troubled.

jackson replaces his mug on the coffee table and shifts closer on the couch to where mark is sitting on the adjacent loveseat. tentatively, he reaches out and places a hand on mark's knee.

mark puts his cup down with a clatter too and gets to his feet abruptly, jackson's hand falling off his leg.

he clears his throat, voice low. "i forgot to give you your present."

before jackson can tell him it doesn't matter, he's strode quickly out of the living room into his bedroom, where jackson hears some rummaging noises coming from.

mark reappears, looking flustered and flushed. he's holding a slim gift-wrapped package.

he sits down again and hands it to jackson. "happy birthday," he says, smiling quietly, and jackson's heart melts.

he takes the gift and shakes it eagerly, before prying open the wrapper with care.

it's a book, the little prince by antoine de saint-exupery.

"it's my favourite book," mark explains earnestly. "it's about this pilot whose plane lands on a tiny planet where no one lives except a prince, and the rose he's in love with..."

jackson listens to mark's eager rambling and feels his defenses crumbling. he's immensely touched by the gift. he hadn't expected something so heartfelt, so meaningful, something that meant so much to mark that he wanted to share it with jackson. the air between them is comfortable again, the conversation flowing easily, and jackson almost forgets what he has been so antsy about all night.

he looks at mark, the intimate orange lamplight flickering over his fine features, his eyes dark as ebony, the momentary flash of the winnie-the-pooh stud in his ear catching the light as he tilts his head, branding him as jackson's possession; and the words come out of his mouth so naturally it's like breathing. "i love you."

mark's lips part in surprise, the flow of his words halting midsentence. the desire to cover that parted, plush cupid's bow with his own mouth stuns jackson with its intensity.

maybe mark thinks that he had planned this, scheduled it at the exact same time on his birthday mark had said the words on his own birthday, after jackson gave him the earring. but no, it had been completely spontaneous and unplanned. so unexpected that it had shocked even jackson himself. he supposes he can understand a little of how mark felt after jackson gave him his present back in september, overwhelmed and bowled over by the grand, sweeping romantic gesture.

"jia-er," mark says hoarsely after a lifetime, his voice as soft as the material of his jacket against jackson's skin. his eyes are misty, his smile tremendous. "me too."

jackson musters a wobbly grin, leaning in eagerly, hasty to start the real action now that mark's dorky ramble has been cut short. but mark draws back at the last minute.

"gimme a sec," he stumbles to his feet, looking dazed, and dashes into his bedroom again. jackson frowns in impatient amusement.

a second later, his heart leaps into his throat to hear the first few familiar opening notes of a song that he has listened to so many times, trying to puzzle out its meaning, that it's burned into his memory.

one love by loveholic.

so this was what mark had been saving that playlist for. even months ago, he had been planning this night, hoping to make it perfect to the last detail.

mark appears in the doorway again, looking glassy-eyed and flushed deliciously as he braces his hands on the frame. jackson flashes him his best imitation of his trademark cocky smirk he can summon with all his insides quivering like jelly.

+ i'm so sorry this is so disorganized and messy i promise that this is the last extension ;; i honestly planned this to be 4 chapters from the start but it turned out much longer than i expected.
+ thanks to theblobmaster for her idea and the snail part is completely random and only because junie dared me to include snails in this chapter lmfao

part 7