“Did you two get in a fight?” BamBam asked after seeing the way they reacted, how it was icy cold once it was call: “Cut!”

I am stuck with my other stories… all of them, even the ones I don't post anywhere. I needed to force me to write something to get in the mood again so I tried something easy and short. I wanted to try this trope because I don't know why, I wanted pan maybe. Anyhow, it is completed, short and simple, so I won't take more than a few days to post it all. I hope you enjoy it.

Mark watches with a torn heart the boy who cries, yet again, the loss of another loved one. His normally open, warm, kind and friendly features twisting in one of sheer despair and sorrow, with tears streaking his anguish-flushed cheeks and soft but completely broken whimpers escaping his lips. All what Mark wants to do is

“It only really feels like I’m back home when you greet me,” Jackson comments. “You’re the best at welcoming people.” Mark smiles as his heart stirs. Sometimes he wonders if Jackson feels the same way. There are days he thinks so, then there are others when he is sure that’s not the case and he’s reading too much into it. But he never dwells on that too much, because why even trying? It’s too complex. Too painful.

In which Jackson has had enough of Mark pushing him too far every time gets so close, every time it looks like an almost kiss. Every time.

Jackson spends so much time with BamBam now and Mark can't help feeling left behind and jealous. That until it piles up and he just bursts out.