The number in his phone must be a dream. The whole night must’ve been a dream. There was no way some random, ridiculously cute guy had stood against a wall, listening to Jackson talk all night, then proceeded to put his number in Jackson’s phone right before David drunkenly dragged him out the door to head home. It felt so impossible that, when he woke up the next morning, Jackson immediately reached for his phone. There, at the bottom of his contacts list, was a single Y name that separated itself from all the rest.

Yi En.

When he clicked the name, a tiny thumbnail version of a picture stared back at him. He hadn’t even noticed the other take a selfie, let alone realized he’d added it to the contact. Opening the full-screen version, Jackson gasped. They’d been in a packed house that had just about the worst lighting imaginable, but Mark had still managed to somehow take an almost flawless picture. Jackson would’ve started mumbling about how unfair it was that some people were blessed with unflappable beauty while he was stuck with just above average looks, at least in his opinion, but he was too busy gazing at the picture.

After a few minutes of shameless staring, he opened up a new text, quickly typing in Yi En’s name. He wasn’t the kind to just sit around and wait for someone else to make a move. Why waste time on pointless waiting when you could be getting to know each other? That had always been Jackson’s thought, at least. Sometimes, it didn’t go over so well, but he never let that bother him.

Hey, it’s Jackson. From the party last night. How’s it going?

Not expecting any sort of immediate response, he tossed the phone on the other end of the bed before slipping out from under the sheets. Despite the late night out, he still got up at dawn to run through the shower and eat a quick breakfast before jogging to the studio. Part of him was thankful it only took 15 minutes to get there, since running with a sabre and a backpack filled with protective clothing was a little awkward.

When he got to the studio, the lights inside had already been , but the doors were still locked. Jackson knocked loud enough to be heard without being too obnoxious and waited. Stan peeked out from behind a door in the back corner, rushing over when he recognized who was at the door.

“Jackson,” he welcomed. “It’s six in the morning. I wasn’t expecting you until at least my first class got here.”

A blush of embarrassment swept across Jackson’s cheeks. To be honest, he hadn’t even thought about how early it was. At Stanford, he was able to train whenever he wanted, since he had unrestricted access to the building. “I’m sorry,” he said, bowing quickly. “I wasn’t thinking. I just kind of fell into my habits. I can come back later.”

“Nonsense,” Stan said. “You’re here now, so come in. My students could learn a thing or two from your dedication.”

He’d never really thought of getting up early to train as dedication so much as just a routine. Jackson’s father had always insisted they get up with the sun in order to maximize the amount of training that could get done in a day. Sleeping in had always been a luxury that was reserved for holidays like Christmas and his birthday.

Stan offered Jackson a cup of coffee, which he refused politely, before retreating back into the office he’d appeared from, leaving Jackson to his devices. Getting in a few hours of undisturbed drills, he was already well into his daily regimen of practiced lunges and footwork by the time students started arriving for the first class of the day. Most of them whispered among each other and pointed excitedly, clearly figuring out who he was without too much difficulty. No doubt they’d been told that there’d be a new person around for a few weeks.

The first class started and got under way smoothly before Jackson took a break, sitting on the floor next to his bag with his back against the wall. He dug out a bottle of water and his phone, thinking he’d just check Twitter and Instagram while he rested. A mouthful of liquid caught in his throat as he noticed the new message notification, Mark’s Chinese name clearly printed underneath.

Hey, man! I’m all good. You? Looks like you were up early.

Jackson felt his heart start to race, noticing that Mark had replied just after 7:30 in the morning. That was still obnoxiously early for any college student, especially the morning after a house party. Now that he thought about it, though, Mark hadn’t really drank that much while he was with Jackson. In fact, he’d only sipped on whatever was in his cup, never once leaving to get something else. A smirk spread across Jackson’s lips as he realized that Mark had stuck around the whole time. That was, until David slumped over and ruined it all.

I’m always up early. Training never ends, you know?
I was a little worried you wouldn’t remember who I was. Haha

He’s not quite sure what embarrass-yourself spell he’d fallen under to send that last message, but it was too late to take it back now. Not that it wasn’t true. He was at least a tiny bit worried that maybe Mark had somehow been super wasted and forgotten everything. Or worse, he just chose to forget the annoying guy that had cornered him and wouldn’t stop talking. But he had texted back. He had kept up the conversation. Jackson felt lighter, the worry finally lifted from his back.

His phone vibrated within the minute, not even giving him the chance to put it down before he got a reply.

Training while on vacation. That .
I don’t put my number in just anyone’s phone. So yeah, I remember you.

Somewhere along the line, the morning class got released for a quick water break. A handful of boys brave enough to approach Jackson asked him for his autograph, some even reenacting Jackson’s now-infamous lunge that had helped him make it into the Top 8 in London. It was humbling, seeing kids idolize him for the things he often got scolded for. His style wasn't exactly traditional, after all. But it's what had got him this far in his career, so he couldn't just abandon it because of a few stuffy people in the industry.

After a few minutes, the instructor called all the kids back, telling them to let Jackson train if they wanted him to continue doing well. Jackson just smirked at the statement, nodding in thanks at teenage teacher before glancing back down at his phone.

I was gonna go paddle boarding today. Wanna join?

Jackson wasn't exactly sure what paddle boarding was, but the fact that Mark was even inviting him in the first place made his heart flutter a little. One quick Google search later, his curiosity was at an all-time high. It looked simple enough, and fun at that. Plus, he’d get to see Mark again, which was really the strongest draw. He bit his lip, trying to figure out a way to push off his afternoon conditioning to make something work. But no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't seem to work it out. He needed at least 3 hours of conditioning to stay on track, and he never worked out after dinner.

I have to do conditioning this afternoon. :/

Suddenly desperate for a distraction from the conversation, Jackson set his phone on the ground and returned to the other side of his practice mat. The less he thought about missing out on another chance to see Mark, the better. Passing his sabre from hand to hand a few times, he slipped his mask back on and continued with his exercises. The attempted distraction didn't work very well, though. As soon as his phone lit up again, Jackson raced over to it.

Paddle boarding doesn't count? It works your core and arms. I'll even race you, if you want. ;)

Heat rushed through his neck as he read and re-read the text. He didn't know what to say, but the part of him that couldn't refuse grew larger and larger the more he thought about it. If it really did give him a bit of a workout, then he could count it, right? Besides, if his father asked, he'd just say he went swimming or something. That'd probably end up being closer to the truth than he realized anyway.

Sure, but I don't have any stuff for it. Don't I need a wetsuit or something?

Concentration now completely ruined, Jackson returned to his place on the ground, phone cradled in his hands, and watched the class as they continued to practice proper foot position and arm angles.

No wetsuit needed. My brother's got a board and stuff you can use. Just meet me at the beach at noon. :)

Jackson's heart clenched. Hands reaching for his sabre, he quickly packed everything up as neatly as he could before rushing out of the building. There was no use in trying to continue training now that all his attention was centered on where he would be in a few hours.

By the time Mark showed up at the beach, Jackson had already gotten an hour of conditioning done, using the wet sand where the tide rolled up to his advantage. Just before noon, he'd decided to wade around in the water to rinse some of the sand off. Once the water came up to mid-thigh, he turned around and noticed a familiar, stick-thin figure standing near the parking lot.

"Hey! Mark!" Jackson called, waving from where he stood. When the figure didn't turn around, he called again. "Hey! Yi En!" That got his attention. Spinning around, Mark squinted out at the ocean before spotting Jackson and waving back. He jogged down to the water, smile stretched across his face. Jackson tried his best not to be too obvious as he stared at Mark's exposed chest, flush inching up his neck. His muscles were so clearly defined, it almost made Jackson's mouth water with desire. He wasn’t completely unaffected by Mark’s appearance, after all. He had hormones that raged every now and then, too.

"How long have you been here?" Mark asked, standing at the edge of the water. When he didn't move any further, Jackson started walking toward the beach to meet him. He used his concentration on pulling his legs through the water as an excuse to soak in the sight of the other's exposed torso one more time before he fixed his eyes on Mark's face.

"Uhhh about an hour, I guess," Jackson answered. "I wanted to get a little of my regular conditioning in still."

Mark giggled. "Do you ever give yourself a day off?"

"It's not so bad," Jackson said, shrugging a little. "Training every day, I mean. Besides, I can't afford to take a break since qualifiers are coming up soon. My dad is breathing down my back about making sure I get a medal next year."

"Medal?" Mark tilted his head a little, an ever-curious puppy not quite understanding what Jackson had just said.

"Oh," Jackson muttered. He forgot that he hadn't told Mark at the party that he was an Olympian. Not like he was hiding it or anything. It had just slipped his mind. "Yeah, Olympic qualifiers start in a couple months."

Mark's eyes got wide as he heard that, but he didn't say anything. That was new. Usually people freaked out or started screaming or asked him a million and a half questions when they found out that he was an Olympian. But no one had ever stayed silent.

They both stood there, the only noise coming from the ebb and flow of the tide lapping against their ankles. After he seemed to process everything, Mark's eyes shifted down a little, looking just to the side of Jackson’s elbow. "Cool, well the boards are in my car." He gestured up at the only car in the parking lot.

"Nice mom mobile," Jackson said, making sure his tone was very clearly joking. Mark squinted at him and smacked Jackson's bicep playfully.

"I had to borrow my mom's car to fit the boards!" he protested. A squeal left Jackson's lips, high pitched and loud as can be, as the older hit him. That just made Mark's fake anger fade into a fit of laughter. Without another word, both of them started sprinting up to the parking lot full-speed. Just boys being boys.

Hey guys! Hope you were ready for another chapter of this bad boy! I know some people may have forgotten about it, since I didn't even think about it that much after posting the first chapter. But after several terrible failed attempts at writing a ty one shot, I saw a video of Jackson paddle boarding during Fighting Man recording and I instantly got inspired.

I really wanted to jump into the fight between Jackson's attraction to Mark and his routine that he's always been so loyal to his entire life. Obviously, it's gonna develop into a bigger struggle later on, but this is just the beginning. Baby steps. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. How do you think Markson's paddle board date went? Let me know in the comments!