PART 7:1

MARK

Mark stares at the papers he’s holding in his hands, the words application and admission sticking out in bold above all the fine print makes him nervous. He’s been dreading this moment, the inevitable time when his parents hand him the key to the grand future they’ve envisioned for him. Why is it so much easier to live for the present than it is for the future?

He skims over the boxes and requirements listed on the forms with growing discomfort. He’s going to have to fill all this out somehow and he thought getting into college once was hard enough. Now he’ll have to do this all over again.

The nagging thought of does he even want to do this strikes a chord inside him.

“There’s plenty of time to do the application Mark.” Mark’s mom sets down a bowl of sliced apples in front of him. “Dr. Park said he’d be happy to write you a recommendation. We just need to find you two more. I think we can get pastor John to write one, and you can ask one of your professors.”

Mark sets the papers down and puts a slice of apple in his mouth even though he’s not hungry. “Okay,” he says while chewing.

“Focus on your classes your dad and I will help you do the application.”

Just as they helped him write his application for the college he’s in currently. Mark might be good at writing about God and Jesus, but the honest truth is he’s not good at writing about much else. There’s a reason he failed English in high school, and not all of it was because he was more interested in playing basketball with his friends. Romeo and Juliet is a snoozefest that only Oliva Hussey’s s could improve his overall impression of the tale.

“Okay.” Now Mark’s eating the apple slices in front of him solely because they’re right there. For once in his life he’s offered a snack food and he’s not hungry enough to really enjoy it.

“What are you doing this weekend? Your dad and I were thinking of going out somewhere after his golf outing Saturday.”

Mark wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Homework, probably something with Jackson.”

“You and Jackson are out a lot lately.” Mark’s mom smiles, “Do you need any money?”

“Y-yeah we hang out with the other guys too.” Mark rubs his fingers against his shorts, his heart rate increasing.

“The two Korean students we’ve met?”

“Yeah, JB and Jinyoung. They’re over a lot too, so we all do stuff.” Mark fails to mention it’s usually JB and Jinyoung going off to hang out together while Mark and Jackson fool around in Jackson’s room with the radio on to block out any noises.

“I wonder what Jackson’s plans are after college…I should ask his mom next time I talk to her.”

Pursing his lips, Mark’s stomach drops. He hasn’t even thought about what the future might mean for him and Jackson. “I…don’t know.”

“I suppose he could do something with their business, he’s very talented. I should give his mom a call and see how they’re doing. Do you need anything before I go?” She rinses off the knife she’d been using in the sink and sets it in the dish drainer to dry.

Shaking his head, Mark gives his mom half a smile. “No.”

Mark’s mom slings her purse over her shoulder and picks up a set of car keys off the counter. “Okay well, I’m off to pick your brother and Bam Bam up from school.” She puts on her sunglasses as she’s stepping out of the kitchen. “Be back soon.”

“Okay, see you.”

Groaning, Mark leans back in his chair. He’s got so much more to worry about than just failing psychology. Dear God, I’m in need of some guidance or whatever you can give me. Please give me the strength to see what I should do. Also, please give Jackson some guidance, and if you could do something about the huge amount of texts he sends me when I’m trying to relax it’s getting hard to keep up…

 M*A*R*K*S*O*N**C*H*U*R*C*H**A*U

JACKSON

He’s got Mark right where he wants him, warm and snuggled on his bed with him, and an episode of the show they’ve been watching together playing on his laptop. Mark’s the little spoon to his big spoon, the sugar to his spice, the water to his dying thirst, and et cetera et cetera. Lying here with Mark is the best remedy to the double stress of school and fencing practice. The closer the date to the big fencing meet approaches, the more intense their practice has become.

Plus the pressure to perform and to perform well is a heavy weight against him. Aim for the top Jackson, get first place and you can reach new heights with your fencing and become a pro, go to the Olympics, get paid to play the sport. Or at the very least and the more down to earth option, continue with fencing beyond his college career.

He’s reached the age to know that reaching for your dreams is a more a fantasy than a reality.

Jackson shifts his weight around, resting the top of his chin on Mark’s shoulder. “Are you even watching?” He curls a hand around Mark’s waist along the jutting angle of Mark’s hipbone.

Mark has his cell phone in his hand; thumb flicking through whatever he’s seeing on the screen.

“…Yeah,” Mark says after a delayed pause.

Jackson snorts, breathing out deep onto Mark’s shirt. “Do you want to do something else?” He toys with the material beneath his fingertips at Mark’s hip. “We haven’t gotten together much this week…” Between Jackson’s fencing practice and their school schedules, they haven’t seen each other since Tuesday at lunch, and seeing how it’s Saturday afternoon it’s been almost four days. In the time apart, Jackson’s missed Mark letting him talk his ear off while they cuddled on the couch, or complained about their Korean class in front of JB together.

Well , Jackson thinks, he wonders when he started to become this needy towards Mark when Mark’s such a tough cookie to get a reaction from. Except when they would hold hands and Jackson could feel Mark’s pulse beat strong through his wrist. He’s pretty sure Jesus doesn’t have anything to do with his relationship with Mark even if Mark keeps about taking him to church.

Mark hums, thumb still moving across his phone’s screen. “Sure.”

Taking the opening as an invitation, Jackson moves his hand down for a one armed hug, pressing up against Mark, who turns further over on his side. He slides his hand upwards until his fingertips brush the top of Mark’s . “You’re quiet today.” Jackson peers part Mark’s shoulder to find that Mark’s dropped his cell phone on the side of the bed.

Mark’s hand touches his where it lay across his chest. “I am?”

“Yeah more than the usual. You let me talk for what, thirty minutes straight without telling me to shut up.”

“I don’t tell you to shut up,” Mark mumbles, his fingers lacing in between Jackson’s.

“So you give me that look that says Jackson you’re an idiot stop talking, same thing. Long week?” Jackson says before dropping his face down to nuzzle Mark’s shoulder. He drops a kiss to the spot that makes Mark give the tiniest of shivers.

Mark’s chest raises and falls beneath their hands. “Stressful. And long.”

“Mine’s been pretty ty too thanks for asking,” Jackson says in a teasing manner. “Want me to take your mind off of it? We can watch this later.” Not like either of them have been watching much of the episode anyway. What with Mark staring at his phone and Jackson staring at Mark. He lowers his hand, taking Mark’s hand with him.

“What?” Mark shifts, turning his body back towards Jackson and forcing Jackson to turn with him. Jackson is able to get his other arm free before Mark rolls over to squash it underneath his back. “Oh.”

Jackson ignores the loud laugh track coming from his laptop to lower his hand down to the button holding Mark’s shorts together. He can feel his own stir in his loose shorts as he rubs his hand downwards, following the zipper’s path. “Can I?” It’s been even more days since they’ve last had time alone with each other.

A soft sigh spills from Mark’s lips and to Jackson’s surprise, he twists in his arms, throwing a leg over Jackson’s and planting his arms on either side of Jackson’s head.

Eyebrows rising, Jackson his lips, the sudden emergence of initiative in Mark turning him on. His eyes flick from Mark’s eyes to his mouth, “Is this a yes?” He rests a hand on Mark’s back to pull him in closer. Mark is warm and the thigh thrown over Jackson’s own is a welcome weight.

Mark doesn’t respond with words, but the gentle touch of his lips to Jackson’s provides all the answer he needs. Eyes sliding shut, Jackson brings the kiss deeper by drawing Mark in closer to him. The subtle heat from their joined lips is addicting, and Jackson wants to find out how much he can turn up the temperature. He plays with Mark’s lower lip, running his tongue over its smoothness, in hopes of seeing it swollen and red later. In turn, Mark grinds down on him, letting Jackson feel he’s not the only one excited.

Slowly, the friction Mark creates drives Jackson crazy, as its gradual flow is both a relief and a torture. Jackson breaks off the kiss, breathing heavily, and bucks his hips up because he wants more – no needs more – of this pleasurable friction against his .

His fingers tangle in Mark’s shirt, shoving the material up to reveal skin speckled with a series of tiny moles from the kiss of the sun’s bright rays. In particular, Jackson’s in love with the tiny mole above Mark’s lip.

Glancing up, Jackson views the tinge of pink across Mark’s cheekbones, the curl of his messy hair around his forehead, and the fullness of the lips Jackson knows he’s had a part in making. A short puff of air against Jackson’s face breaks Jackson’s concentration as Mark shifts over further on top of him and kisses him without a moment’s notice. Groaning into Mark’s mouth, Jackson wraps his arms around Mark’s waist, holding Mark in place.

To think that a few months ago Mark was sprouting Bible verses, okay he wasn’t sprouting Bible verses, but quiet church boy Mark wouldn’t bat an eyelash in Jackson’s general direction. Well, he did ridicule him for being so straight laced. But really, the summer Bible camp councilor look wasn’t doing him any favors and was only stifling his natural attractiveness.

His favorite Mark is the one lounging with him right now in a simple t-shirt and shorts.

Actually, maybe getting Mark to loosen up was a bad idea in hindsight since other people might think Mark’s available and he’s not. Mark breaks their kiss, lips disconnecting for the briefest moment before diving right back in, and Jackson thinks he should stop having a hypothetical crisis in the middle of trying to get Mark’s tongue in his mouth.

Jackson breathes in deep through his mouth and relaxes, melting into the taste and weight of Mark on him. His fingers rub into the smooth skin of Mark’s back, brushing past the fine soft hair tickling his fingertips. Jackson knows he’s wrong, a fool, and was an idiot at first, but the more he holds Mark like this the deeper he falls.

 M*A*R*K*S*O*N**C*H*U*R*C*H**A*U

MARK

Cleaned up and feeling boneless, Mark sinks deeper into Jackson’s couch, feet resting in Jackson’s lap. Jackson is playing a video game with determined concentration across his brow, fingers flicking the buttons on his controller at a fast pace.

He curls his toes in, hearing the crack of several bones in sequence, and pats the couch with one hand absentmindedly. “Hey Jackson,” he says.

“Hmm?” Jackson responds, taking a quick glance over in Mark’s direction.

“What are you planning on doing after next year?” Mark drags his fingers along the couch. “After graduation.”

“Well…” Jackson squints, one corner of his mouth scrunching together. “I want to go back to Hong Kong for a while, hopefully do some work for my family and get some experience. What I really want is fencing, but I don’t know about that. You have to hit it big in sports. I mean, the right people have to see you at the right time. I’m a little old.”

Mark bites the inside of his cheek; Jackson wants to go back to Hong Kong, and he’ll be here in America probably at seminary school since that’s the best option he has. If Jackson is there and he’s here, then whatever they have will be something Mark’s not ready to think about yet.

“Old? I thought you have all those medals.”

Jackson lets out a laugh and shifts in his spot, jostling Marks feet. “Those are from back in Hong Kong, I haven’t been competing the same since I’ve come back to school in America.”

“You haven’t?” Mark tilts his head, he thought Jackson was sort of a big deal in fencing from what he’s heard by word of mouth.

“I took almost a year off with a muscle injury, it wasn’t a big deal, but lost time and college…I don’t know it’s different now than what it was,” Jackson says, ignoring his game and looking straight at Mark while talking. “I love it, I love fencing. It’s something I can’t give up.”

“Not easily,” Mark adds, biting his lip.

Jackson smiles. “Right. But I’ve got a whole year left for fencing so who knows. There’s always that chance.” He wags his eyebrows up and down. “I hit big with you, so must I have some luck in me.”

Mark rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t have anything he can throw at Jackson within easy grabbing reach unless he wants to fall off the couch.

“What about you?”

Embarrassment floods through Mark, “I might, I might go to seminary school.”

“Seminary school? What’s that? Graduate school?” Jackson grabs a hold of Mark’s feet and gives them a light squeeze.

“Kind off yeah…it’s like more religious education. Theology and stuff…” Mark tries to explain, but he knows Jackson’s not too familiar with religion besides the mandatory theology or world religion general education course everyone has to take. “Yeah, it’s graduate school.” Mark’s really glad Jinyoung isn’t here because he’d probably point out that with his grades how could he even get into graduate school. Jinyoung can go stick his head in a toilet and flush.

“That sounds like you. Where?”

“It’s in the state.” It’s nowhere near Hong Kong.

“Do you have to wear robes and stuff? And swear chastity for the rest of your life?” Jackson has a mild scared expression on his face, his eyes wide and darting over to Mark.

“No Jackson, you know I’m not Catholic.”

“Well thank god for that. I don’t know how that would work at all.” He places a hand on his heart. “I was scared.”

Mark hits Jackson’s thigh with his heel, “Stupid. Didn’t you take theology?” What was Jackson trying to make him out to be? A nun?

“Hey, that was like two years ago,” says Jackson, “give me a break.”

“Stupid.” Mark smiles, pushing his worries to the back of his mind. Whatever, he’ll think about that when he has too, and that time is not right now. Jackson going away to Hong Kong is a year away and he should just enjoy the time he has right now.

“And you’re smarter? You’re just as stupid as me.”

Mark sticks out his tongue.

 M*A*R*K*S*O*N**C*H*U*R*C*H**A*U

JACKSON

“Everyone gather around first before we begin warming up,” their head coach called out as they were entering the practice gym. He waved them over with one hand, the other holding onto a clipboard full of papers.

Jackson shuffles in along with his teammates, shrugging his shoulders as his favorite sparring partner gave him a look in confusion. They gather in a semi circle around their coaches, waiting for whatever they have to say before they can start stretching and warming up their muscles.

“As you know, the big meet is coming up very soon. You’ve all been doing great, but I’ve heard word that there’s going to be several sponsors and club recruiters coming to watch the matches.” The silence in the gym is filled with the soft exclamations of those around him on the news. “If you haven’t yet been putting in your one hundred percent into practice now is the time to kick yourself in the and get working. Each and everyone of you has the potential to continue on, especially those of you who want to keep doing the sport.”

The coach’s words hit Jackson hard in the chest, and he feels the pressure of the coach’s strong stare straight on him as if he’s speaking directly to him. Jackson clenches his hands into fists.

“Our performance at the meet will also bring more interest into our school’s fencing program. We can get more funding for next year. The more recognition our fencing program has, the more opportunity we have for the future.” Their coach pauses and waves the clipboard in his hand, “I’ve got a new training regimen worked out for this week and next week. We’re going to focus on drilling out the weak points.”

Coach Kim, Yugyeom’s dad, steps forward, “Let’s all work hard to get the school to know just how good our fencing program is right?”

The team agrees back, nodding heads, raising voices, and clapping hands. Jackson grins and puts his hands on his hips; of course their fencing program is great. Their last few meets they’ve had have put their school in amongst the top standings for their region. If they have a good performance this time, they might get up at the top.

“Okay, everyone go warm up and then we’ll go over the training routines.” Their coach claps his hands and they all disperse.

Jackson s his jacket before finding a spot to stretch out his legs on the mats set up. Sponsors, fencing club recruiters, professionals in the sports industry coming to watch their college fencing tournament. A surge of energy fills him while he’s spreading his legs and shaking them out before slowly reaching forward towards his toes. He’s nervous at the prospect at being watched, but also excited to have someone in the industry see him at his best – and most vulnerable – moment.

He’s never thought he’d have a chance like this here in America, and even if it doesn’t go anywhere, he can say he’s at least tried. The spark of excitement has kindled a fire inside him that he’s let smolder for a very long time. Jackson wiggles his toes and moves to reach for the other foot.

He can’t wait to tell Mark about this, and he can’t wait to stand on that stage again wearing his school blazoned white uniform that’s representing more than his school pride.

 M*A*R*K*S*O*N**C*H*U*R*C*H**A*U

It's been a while I apologize. I also apologize for ing up any fencing related things mentioned in this story /o\ This crazy story will be completed even if it takes me a while to do it I hold myself to that.