Title: Magnetic

Pairing: MarkSon

Genre: Failed attempt of fluff

Description: Mark's homesick.

Yeah, such a lame description, I know. I surprise myself with my laziness sometimes.

I'm still hungover from the ride I just rode. I felt like my head's gonna get detatched from my neck anytime so yeah. Sorry for the late update and I hope this is okay.

Bye.

Fighting homesickness was certainly a difficult feat, especially for a person who rarely expresses anything. Take Mark Tuan for example. Whenever he misses his hometown and feels like flying to LA using Harry Potter's Nimbus 2000 out of desperation, he excuses himself and goes to his and Jackson's shared room to wallow in sadness. Of course, nobody really takes note of the real meaning behind his melancholic excuses and quiet voice, the telltale glistening of his eyes signifying what was about to commence.

Nobody but a certain Wang.

At first, Jackson never commented about it, opting to give the eldest a time alone. Think over things or do personal things (e, maybe?). So Jackson just shrugs it off, because everyone wants to be alone sometimes, right?  But one unexpected night, Jackson heard Mark's sniffs when he was preparing for a most definitely welcomed slumber. He paused, about to dive under the comfort of his blanket, in order to peer at his roommate. Mark was facing his direction so Jackson had a clear view of his face. And Mark was sleeping serenely, half of his baby face resting on his soft pillow, squishing his left cheek in an adorable way. Nothing out of place, yeah.

Nothing except for the visible and impossible-to-ignore trails of tears and wet spot on his pillow.

Jackson crawled nearer, wanting to confirm what he was seeing up close. And indeed, Mark had cried himself to sleep. He blinked, caught off guard that the Mark Tuan was crying— had shed a tear. Unable to stop himself, he lifted a hand and caressed Mark's visage with a feathery touch. His index and middle finger moistened for only a bit, and he realized that Mark had cried for a while.

He doesn't know where that sudden jolt of pain came from but it ate his heart away. He wanted to protect Mark, who was supposed to be sleeping soundly but was now staring back at him for long enough to make Jackson realize that his face was merely an inch away from Mark's. He gaped, flushed, and pulled away. He didn't look back as he practically drowned himself in his sea of blanket after turning off the lights without any explanation because how could he, when he himself didn't know why he did such an act?

Silence had naturally ensued. Jackson fought the urge to toss around the bed, his sleepiness forgotten after the prior encounter. And the said silence was slowly killing him.

"Jackson?"

Ah, finally.

Jackson hummed in a pretense husky tone, trying to make it seem as if Mark had woken him up when he couldn't even bring himself to keep his eyes closed for thirty seconds.

Mark bit his lip. He knew that Jackson knew now— knew his secret crying sessions although maybe not the whole picture, only a vague idea with broad scenarios and predictions for elaboration. In actuality, maybe getting caught was a good thing. Jackson, as he stated on a radio show, was the kindest member in their band. It was a candid opinion. Jackson won't judge him, won't he?

He slowly sat up and gazed at the lump on the other mattress. "Are you sleepy?" He asked, knowing it would be stupid to ask are you sleeping? instead. Jackson slowly lifted himself and leaned his back on the pile of pants and shirts behind him. Their eyes met in the dark.

"No." Jackson answered candidly, seeing no point in lying. He could sense that Mark needed him at the moment. There was a sound of rustling sheet and shuffling steps that stopped beside him. Jackson looked up to where he knew Mark's petite figure would be. He expected Mark to sit beside him or something for a talk but Mark parted his legs before kneeling in between. Jackson wanted to protest and possibly struggle as he flushed madly but when he felt the weight of Mark's head drop on his shoulder, he couldn't move a muscle.

Mark, who shied away from skinships as much as possible, was currently almost hugging Jackson (minus his arms wrapping around Jackson but knowing Mark, Jackson knew this was the nearest to a hug he could ever receive from the older). Was this Mark's way of showing how he needed comfort? It was… cute.

Mark, on the other hand, was questioning his sanity but made no move to peel himself away from Jackson's magnetic warmth. Maybe this whole ordeal wasn't as bad as he thought, but only if Jackson was there for him to lean on. After a full minute, Mark felt Jackson's arms clasp behind him, making his body press nearer against Jackson's. Mark's mood instantly lifted.

Yes, dealing with homesickness became tolerable after that but only whenever Jackson was there to embrace him through it.

— End