Where HimChan and Mark discover what X-Mas is all about . . . giving . . . and love!  ^_^

I hope you like it. Happy Reading!

Mark at Christmas - MarkHim / MarkChan

"Don't you have anything stronger to drink?" HImChan asked.

"I don't think you need anything stronger," Mark answered.

"I just want to forget everything . . . this stupid season . . . everything . . . "

HimChan was laying in Mark's arms . . . again. This had become his default setting over the past several months. He would be fine for a while—days, weeks even—but then he would start to feel depressed, then he would go over to Mark's and lay in his arms, complaining until he would just get so tired of it all, he would just fall asleep. In the morning, Mark would make him breakfast, during which HImChan would apologize for being such pathetic loser of a friend and then would shuffle off home to wallow further in his misery.

Except for the default setting, Kim HimChan was a funny, witty guy who was wonderful to be around. But, to be honest, Mark didn't find much fault with the default setting. Yes, HimChan was depressed. Yes, he insisted on wanting to down enormous quantities of alcohol that Mark always refused to give him. Yes, he would complain miserably about how lonely he was ever since "that bastard JongUp" (to quote HimChan) dumped him, but it was okay. It was okay because he would be depressed in Mark's arms. He would beg to get drunk while looking into Mark's eyes. He would complain miserably while his head rested in the crook of Mark's arms so that his breath caressed Mark's neck as he talked.

So, all in all, Mark didn't much mind the default setting, because it meant that Kim HimChan would be in his arms, look into his eyes and breathe his soft, sweet breath against Mark's skin.

The only thing Mark didn't like was the fact that this combination of the funny, witty HimChan and the depressed, needy HimChan, just made him want to shove him onto his back and make mad, furious, passionate love to him.

He was dying to say, 'I'm here . . . I love you . . . look at me, for once . . . ' but there was one problem which blocked his way, and it was a big one.

Mark was incredibly shy.

He just couldn't bring himself to confess his feelings.

He'd loved HimChan for months now, but he didn't know how to convey that. He knew only that he wanted one thing.

He wanted to pour this love that felt sometimes like it was consuming him, all over HimChan. He wanted him to feel how much he loved him. He wanted him to know that there was no reason to feel lonely: he had someone who would always be by his side. If only he could see that.

Every time HimChan came to his house, Mark promised himself that this time he would let him know how he felt. He would summon up the courage to show HimChan the feelings that were flooding his heart.

But every time, he lost his nerve.

What if HimChan wouldn't love him back? What if he was waiting for someone . . . anyone else but Mark . . . maybe even waiting for the 'heartless bastard' who dumped him.

He talked about him enough . . . Moon JongUp. HimChan's depressions and complaints would always descend back into the hell that was JongUp. Then he would bathe in the searing flames of recollection of how much he'd loved him and how he'd been thoughtlessly, coldly discarded like so much trash. He'd given JongUp everything; every part of himself, he hadn't held anything back. But what did he get in return? Heartless rejection . . .

Mark knew what unbridled HimChan could be like. He could be overwhelming as he cascaded over lesser people with the power of a waterfall. He was strong. He was passionate. For some, he would be way too much to deal with.

But not for Mark.

Mark loved the way HimChan could delve unrestrainedly into the person he loved and take up all the space in their heart, because he wanted to do exactly the same. He, like HimChan, also didn't expect wholehearted devotion without offering the same in return. When HimChan loved, he loved big. He loved deeply. He loved utterly. He never played games or held himself back: what he had to give was given freely to the one he loved. And that's what Mark wanted from him. Because that was exactly what he wanted to give him in return.

Mark had been afraid of his own capacity to love for a long time. He'd realized it when friends of his would talk to him about their relationships and he realized that they had only given a part of themselves, holding the larger part in check, perhaps not to get hurt . . . maybe to always provide them with the option of getting out . . . maybe because they thought breakups were inevitable, so it was 'best not invest too deeply'. But Mark was nothing like that.

So, he kept his heart to himself, while waiting patiently for the day he could give all of himself to the person who would cherish and protect the gift of his love. He had actually begun to believe that in the cynical place that the world had apparently become, he would never be able to find someone who would value what he had to give.

And then, he'd met HimChan. And he learned that a passion that matched his own, truly did exist.

Everything HimChan did, he did unreservedly and with relish. It was as though he thought even the simple, automatic act of breathing was something that should be noticed, acknowledged and appreciated. Everyday situations seemed clothed in bright, vivid colour whenever he was around. He was a light and Mark was the moth drawn to his hotly burning flame.

The closer they became, the harder it was for Mark to ignore that he'd, in fact, become addicted to Kim HimChan. He craved seeing him, craved hearing his voice every day. He had become the first thought in Mark's mind every morning. Every night, Mark would summon up recollected images of HimChan stored carefully in his memory and he would hold them close as he drifted off to sleep. Along the way, he had become, somehow, a man possessed.

But, could he tell HimChan how he felt?

No.

Because as hard as it was to be near HimChan but be unable to be as close as he wanted to be, it would have been unbearable to him to be rejected by someone he loved so powerfully.

So, he'd decided to be there whenever HImChan should need him. And thankfully, HimChan needed him a lot. Especially around this time of year. The loneliest time for people like Mark and HimChan. As the two lonely people lay on Mark's sofa, HimChan sighed heavily and then asked:

"What's wrong with me, Mark?"

"Nothing, HimChannie . . . nothing at all," Mark said smoothing his hands through HimChan's hair soothingly. Then Mark began to lightly massage his scalp.

"Mmmmm . . . that feels so good," HimChan groaned.

Whenever HimChan made those noises, Mark could feel his clothing getting suddenly too tight in certain areas. Vivid pictures would rise in his mind of other things he could do to make HimChan feel good enough to make those sounds.

He unconsciously started to faintly rock his hips back and forth. A fact that wasn't missed by HimChan. He looked at Mark.

"Mark, when was the last time you were with somebody?" he asked unabashedly.

"What do you mean 'with'?"

"You know . . . intimately . . . "

Mark blushed. "Never."

"Never? As in 'never'?

"That's right."

"But, why not?"

"Because I've never had a relationship with anyone who loved me, who I loved."

"Oh, Mark . . . " HimChan said reaching out to his face sympathetically.

"It's okay," Mark said, feeling his face getting hotter and hotter as HimChan touched him and his face neared his.

He's leaning in so closely . . . I . . . I can't help . . . but . . . what if he doesn't want me to? What if . . .

But just then HimChan swiftly and unexpectedly kissed Mark full on the lips.

Mmmmmmmm . . . I can't believe he . . . he feels so incredibly good . . . he tastes so good . . .

Their lips melded together in fiery eagerness as Mark pulled as much of HimChan against him as he could, kissing him back more and more deeply.

When they finally moved apart, Mark felt awash with fear. What if he tells me he shouldn't have done that . . . what if he . . .

"Mark? Do you like me?" HimChan asked in his typical forthright manner.

Mark didn't know how to answer. He was afraid of what might happen if he told HimChan the truth. Mark didn't want to lose what little they had.

But it was HimChan who was asking and so he had to answer. He was willing to risk it.

"No, HimChan, I don't like you . . . " Mark said looking deeply into his eyes, "I love you . . . I've loved you for a long time now."

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?" HimChan asked, his brow knitted in confusion.

"I was afraid . . . " Mark admitted.

"Afraid? Do you realize how much time we've wasted?" he demanded.

"Well . . . "

"Well, we're not going to waste a second more." HimChan looked Mark squarely in the eye and asked, "do you know what I want from you for Christmas, Mark?"

"No . . . "

"I want you to take me to your bed . . . I want us both to strip each other's clothes off and then I want to give you more pleasure than you could ever imagine," he said resolutely. "What do you want?"

"I want to give you the exact same thing," Mark said with his eyes full of desire. "I'm just as hungry as you are, HimChan . . . " Mark breathed in a voice full of want.

"As hungry as I am?" HimChan asked, worried that he had somehow misheard him.

Please let Mark mean what I think he means . . . he thought desperately.

"Hungrier . . . " Mark answered gazing intensely into HimChan's eyes.

"Then, let's and go to your room and  . . . exchange presents," HImChan winked suggestively.

Then, hand in hand, Mark and HImChan ran down the hall to Mark's bedroom and leapt onto the bed. And, onto each other.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

"Mark . . . " HimChan asked as they awakened entangled in each other.

"Yes, baby . . . "

"If this is what it's like, then I wish it could be Christmas every day," HImChan said smiling.

"It will be, if that's what my Channie wants," Mark replied kissing him on the forehead. "And I'll be your personal Santa," he promised before flipping HimChan onto his back.

"Mmmmmm," he moaned as Mark covered HimChan's body with his, " . . . Merry Christmas . . . "

I stayed up all night to finish this 'Mark at Christmas' three-shot. I hope you liked all the stories. If you did, please don't forget to comment and upvote.

And please check out my other fics. Good night (morning)!  (*^_^)