flight log » markson

🌥departure🌥 four

Once again, a body snuck into Jackson's bed in the middle of the night. Mark's arms wrapped around Jackson's waist from behind, pulling him into a tight hug. The emotion behind the actions was enough to put a smile on Jackson's face, but he could feel that something was wrong. Something was off, and Jackson was a little worried to find out what it was.

"Hey, Jacks," Mark whispered, lightly squeezing Jackson's hip. "How are you?"

"Better now that you're here." Jackson laced his fingers over Mark's hands, which were resting on his stomach. As a very touchy-feely person, the physical contact made him extremely content.

"You were acting kind of weird today. I just want to check if everything was okay." Mark pressed a gentle kiss on the side of Jackson's neck, reassuring him that he would listen to whatever Jackson had to say.

"It's stupid. I overthink a lot and take things too personally. I'm okay now, I promise." Jackson couldn't lie and say that he wasn't acting weird because he spent the whole day thinking about the fanmeet. In all honesty, the event kind of ruined his day, but he didn't want to say that out loud.

"Can you tell me what exactly you were thinking?" Mark asked. "I want to be able to understand you better so I can help you. I want to be there for you."

Jackson let out a small sigh, embarrassed by his own thoughts. Still, he wasn't going to keep it a secret and act like he didn't think the way he did. "It was really nice of you to try to get me involved at the fanmeet. I was kind of lonely with no one talking to me or anything. I just felt bad that you put in the effort and no one cared. Not that it's your fault—I would much rather listen to Jinyoung and I'm sure anyone would agree."

"That's ridiculous." Mark abruptly sat up, bringing Jackson up with him. "Sure, Jinyoung sings well, but that doesn't make your voice any worse. I love your voice. It's welcoming and familiar."

"That doesn't make it good," Jackson mumbled. He rose his voice a little as he continued, "It's not just my voice. All of you guys are just more entertaining than I am. Things have changed, and I'm just in your guys' shadows. That's just how it is now."

"Is that what you think of yourself? Why do you think that way?" Mark could feel tears prick at his eyes, his heart broken hearing how indifferent Jackson sounded. He would never be able to see Jackson as anything less than perfect, so he couldn't understand why he thought that way.

"On the car ride back from the fanmeet, I realised something. Haven't you noticed it too? I'm behind. You guys already have a leg up on me with looks so that's not really a surprise, but I'm falling behind in entertainment. I know it's selfish to think this way, but it's true.

"That used to be my thing; I was the funny member. I did variety shows and I made everyone laugh. But that was only because I was the only one stupid enough to be so careless when we first debuted. I didn't care what I did because I had nothing to lose; now, though, you're all confident in yourselves and passing me up.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you guys. Especially you, Mark. You're talking way more than you used to and you're funny and it's great. It's just that the fans are getting sick of me—they have been for years—and you guys are conveniently stepping up, so I'm kind of left in the dust."

Mark stared and Jackson in disbelief. He didn't know what to do or say in response. If he called what he felt before heartbreak, then he had no idea what he was feeling now. It was like he was frozen as he watched Jackson shake his head and let out a small sob, covering his hands with shame.

"Fuck, I'm so selfish," Jackson choked out. "I can't even be happy for you guys. I should stop bitching and moaning because I have no right to say any of this. I'm sorry."

Jackson couldn't speak between his choppy breathing anymore, so he curled up into a ball, embarrassed Mark had to see him that way. He wanted Mark to hug him, give him a supportive pat on the back, anything, but nothing came. A small part of his mind told him it was too much to expect anything when he had said something as selfish as he had. He was certain Mark hated him now because he had never hated himself more.

He was surprised when he was pulled into a sloppy, teary kiss. Jackson was too disoriented to do anything other than kiss back, letting himself melt into the hands gripping his hips. Mark was holding him like he would disappear any second and he was probably going to leave bruises with how tightly he was squeezing him. When he pulled away, he let out a scoff and shook his head.

"I absolutely hate you," Mark breathed. Jackson's heart sank, but he stayed quiet to let Mark talk. "How can you think like that? You'd think that someone as successful as you would be full of themself, not... this. You're so perfect—are you not aware of what the fans say about you? You make this so difficult."

"I'm sorry." Jackson looked away, more tears welling in his eyes because he thought he did something wrong. Mark only rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm not actually mad at you," Mark told him softly. "I just hate that you can't see yourself the way I see you." He paused, thinking for a moment before he smiled. "Why don't we have a date day tomorrow? We have a day off, so I want to spend every minute I can proving to you how amazing you are. I'm pretty sure everyone else is spending the day out of the dorm, so we can have the day to ourselves."

Jackson smiled and nodded, happy that Mark wasn't actually angry at him. Mark was satisfied with his response, so he dragged the two of them back onto the bed and into their usual spooning position. The two of them drifted off into sleep without saying any more, unable to wait for the next day to come.