One

Playing With Fire

“Do you need any help bringing all this stuff to your car, Mrs. Duncan?”

Mark was placing the final item of an older woman’s groceries into her bags. She was a regular, Mark got along well with her.

“No, no. Don’t worry about that now. You just make sure they don’t keep you here all night, got it?” Her voice was low and hoarse, but her smile was warm and beaming.

Mark made a goofy smile back, “Yeah. Deal.”

“Cute young man like you needs all the free time he can get on Valentine’s Day. Who’s the lucky lady?” She asked, standing still to wait for Mark’s response, her face full of hope.

Mark was used to people teasing him about girls, sometimes he was caught off guard, but he didn’t mind it, he was a private person.

“No lucky ladies, just my mom.” He answered smoothly, knowing that answer would suffice.

“Good man.” She nodded in approval. “Happy Valentine’s Day anyway, Mark.” And with that she was hobbling out of the automatic doors with her bags.

Mark turned his cashier’s light off and blocked off his lane, signaling that Mrs. Duncan was the last customer he would be helping. He immediately began emptying the cash and doing mental math of what was there, everything was incredibly routine. Mark could cash-out in his sleep by now.

Three years, that’s how long he had been working at Mio-Market, the large supermarket chain in his small Canadian city. He was saving up money so that he could go to culinary school, and he was almost there. Just a few more months.

“Make sure you double check the inventory’s all there in the back before you head out, Mark?” his manager shouted as he speed-walked by, busy with his own closing duties.

“Yup!” Mark answered robotically, still counting money in his head.

Eighty, Ninety, One hundred. All done. He whispered to himself about fifteen minutes later, slamming the register closed.

Although it was really large, Mark knew the entire store like the back of his hand: the poultry section, the dairy section, produce, and the bakery. It was his second home.

Mark’s hair was a wavy mess of golden blonde locks that suited him perfectly. He was usually found wearing beanies, his favorite, so that his hair just peaked out in the front and the sides.

Mark wasn’t particularly into working out, but he was a healthy and toned size for his age, average height, with impeccable dress sense and a killer smile of bright white straight teeth.

He wouldn’t admit it himself, because he’s bashful, but it was a sort of an inside joke with his co-workers and him that Mark was a little heartbreaker. Many people of all ages would come into the store and at one time or another show interest in Mark. Whether it was asking for his number, touching his hand on “accident” or even circling the aisles over and over to stare, Mark got it all.

“Gord, I’m heading out! I just need the keys!” he shouted while he walked slowly down aisle number three, cursing under his breath when he realized that his cellphone had just died and he forgot his charger at home.

The store was dead silent, the large lights above him flickering pathetically.

Mark scrunched his mouth, chewing the inside of his cheek curiously, “Gord?!” he tried again, this time a bit louder.

When he got no response a second time he decided to try the incredibly small “office” in the back of the store where all of the shipments came in. That’s usually where Gordon was.

Mark pushed through the double doors and found an empty room with no note, nothing to signal where Gord was. Upon further inspection, he noticed that the brand new keys to lock the entire store up were missing.

Gord, in his twisted and paranoid sense of duty, decided it was a good idea to switch security systems and go against the status quo of what every other grocery store was doing. He felt that by installing this new system of locks that it would help with theft and loss prevention, but all it did was give the staff a headache.

They now had to keep a separate set of keys in order to lock the door from both the inside and the outside – it was all really strange to Mark, but he went with it because once Gord has his heart set on something, he just doesn’t quit.

But now Mark was beginning to regret going along with it.

“Gord… this isn’t funny!” He said hesitantly, heading to the security room to check on the video cameras, wondering if maybe Gord was still here somewhere.

He leaned in and peered closely at the small black and white monitors, all twenty of them, searching closely for any signs of movement. After a moment, he spotted what looked like a figure of a man turn the corner, just out of sight in the back of the store, near the deli.

Ugh, there you are. Mark thought to himself, eagerly shutting off all of the interior lights to the store as he head out of the back room to meet Gord.

When he reached the Deli and turned the corner, what he met was not exactly what he expected… at all.

“Oh my god, holy crap!” Mark yelped, almost colliding with a boy about his size that was wearing headphones, clearly unaware of where he was walking. Mark fell to the floor after dodging him, landing on his .

The boy fell backward into the aisle, knocking over a container of spices in the process, just as surprised as Mark.

Mark was annoyed, but above all he was confused. As he picked himself up off the floor and dusted away the dirt from his pants, he stood straight up to see who exactly he had run into.

“Oh . I’m so sorry! That was my fault.” An incredibly handsome young man said, his voice deep and soothing as he ripped his headphones out of his ears. “I think there’s something wrong with y’all’s lights?” he pointed to the lights above them that were now off with a smirk.

Mark deadpanned. It wasn’t Gord, no. It wasn’t even an employee of the store at all.

It was him.

“Uhhh-“ Is all that Mark could mumble, his brain scattering as soon as his eyes met Jackson’s.

“Wait a second, are you guys closing?” The boy asked before Mark could answer, his eyebrows furrowing as he swiftly pulled his cellphone from his back pocket. “Ah , my phone’s dead. But it can’t be 9PM already, can it?”

Mark just raised his head sluggishly and let it fall, nodding once slowly, his eyes growing large.

“Are you alright man? I swear I’m not a thief. I just didn’t notice you guys were closing.” He said with a small laugh, pointing at the bag of chips in his other hand. “I wanted chips…” He was pouting slightly now.

It wasn’t that Mark was confused about who the boy was, because he knew who Jackson was; it was actually quite embarrassing – he knew a lot more than he should about Jackson.

He knew Jackson’s last name, Jackson’s classes, which sports Jackson liked, even the name of his mom. And, without needing to look at the bag of chips in his hand, Mark knew that Jackson was probably holding a blue bag of cool ranch Doritos – those were his favorite.

“I was just closing the store up, actually. I’m really sorry.” Mark was finally able to form words now, trying his hardest to get over the initial shock of the most gorgeous boy in his entire town, the secret object of his desire for two years, the boy that – if Mark was one of those people, would be scrawled all over Mark’s diary like a twelve year old girl – Jackson was that guy.

Jackson’s cheeks were round and his eyes were sharp, he had platinum blonde hair, almost white, and about the same length as Mark’s, except not as wavy. Jackson’s lips were soft and a pretty shade of pink, and he was wearing a dark pink sweater that he paired with a baby pink brimmed hat – everything was very pink, Mark noticed, assuming it was for Valentine’s Day.

“Ah crap. That . So you won’t be able to ring this up for me?” Jackson asked, shaking the bag lightly with a hopeful grin.

“I’m sorry..” Mark began, remembering the situation with Gord being MIA and the fact that they were, essentially, locked in this massive grocery store unless Mark was somehow able to locate the keys and/or his manager. “I actually… um… can you just wait here for a minute?”

Mark didn’t wait for Jackson to respond, he made for the back room again with a determined pace. Once he blasted through the swinging doors, he immediately began rummaging through the office, flipping books and nearly pulling the desk apart, going through the cupboards and drawers, eagerly searching for the keys.

It didn’t help that the office didn’t have a working phone – another one of Gord’s great plans – only the managers were to have access to the store’s mobile phone. That way he could answer the phone wherever he was in the store.

Really Gord, you had to take the phone too? Mark grumbled to himself, slamming his fist on the wooden desk. He took a deep breath, then sat down on the leather chair in front of the security monitors.

Jackson was still there, in the same spot, waiting for him.

Mark was suddenly not angry anymore, or concerned with really anything. He just watched Jackson, the boy was swaying back and forth, probably humming something, Mark wasn’t sure because there was no audio, but he was bobbing his head and lipping words. He was such a dork, but Mark couldn’t help but smile.

Alright, what are you going to do Mark… he whispered to himself, watching on the screen as Jackson ripped the bag of Doritos open and ate a few, checking around to see if anyone was watching.

Mark figured there wasn’t much he could do in the office besides watch Jackson creepily, and though that was tempting, wouldn’t help their situation in the slightest. With a resigned attitude, Mark pushed his way back through the doors to see Jackson again.

“Alright, let’s go see if the doors are open.” Mark said upon reaching Jackson, who looked like a sad puppy that was just caught chewing up the couch. He pouted and rolled the bag of chips up, stuffing them into his pocket.

“I’ll pay for these… I swear.” He mumbled, the tip of his middle finger clean.

Mark giggled, but quickly turned his expression serious. “Follow me.” He told Jackson, leading the two down the aisle towards the entrance of the large store.

Mark didn’t even need to go all the way to the doors to realize that they weren’t going to open for him. He closed his eyes clenched his jaw tightly in frustration, not wanting Jackson to notice his anger.

Jackson walked past Mark and stood in front of the automatic doors, they didn’t budge. Jackson waved a hand inconspicuously in front of the sensor, nothing happened. He raised his other hand and then began swaying them back and forth in front of the door, like a strange contemporary dance. The door didn’t respond at all.

Mark used a hand to cover his unavoidable smirk, there wasn’t anything Jackson could do to open the door, and he knew that, but he couldn’t find the heart to explain it to Jackson who was now hopping like a bunny while waving his hands frantically, trying to get the door to magically open.

“It’s-“ Mark chirped out, his voice breaking from laughing a little. “It’s not going to open…”

Jackson quit jumping around, turning around to face Mark. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“It’s locked from the inside and the outside. It’s this new system my manager decided to install. It’s supposed to help with theft and safety and stuff like that.”

Jackson squinted in disbelief, “By what? Locking you guys in the store like YOU’RE criminals?” he scoffed. “This can’t be a real thing.”

Mark pursed his lips, unsure of how to best explain the fact that they were, in fact locked in the store with no way out but to smash the windows.

“So you don’t have the keys or the gizmo to get us outta here? Why not just call your boss?” He suggested, taking a few steps closer to Mark.

Mark reached for his phone, pulling it out to show Jackson the flashing dead battery screen that was displayed when he tried to turn the device on.

“Of course. Of course.” Jackson shook his head playfully, still with a silly happy look on his face.

“You do… realize… we’re locked in here until someone comes back to open the door?” Mark said, confused by Jackson’s carelessness.

Jackson unravelled the chips from his sweater pocket and shoved another small chip into his mouth, crunching away happily. “Yeah, it .” He began walking slowly to the other end of the store.

Mark was really confused now, deciding to follow Jackson out of curiosity.

“So when is the morning shift supposed to arrive?” Jackson asked, still eating as he walked, Mark trailing behind him.

“Owen is scheduled for six, but he’ll be here fifteen minutes early like usual. So maybe 5:45. Why do you ask? And why aren’t you freaking out right now like I’m about to?” Mark wondered.

“Look I’m not exactly thrilled about having to spend another second in this place either, but my mom always taught me to make the most out of any situation. And right now… well, this is our ‘sitch.” He turned back to Mark with a snicker. “I mean, it is Valentine’s Day and all.”

Mark’s stomach turned, he had forgotten about that silly holiday. Jackson seemed to notice.

“What, not a fan of V-day?” he bugged, grabbing a heart shaped stuffy from the Valentine’s Day display near the front of the store and waving it around in front of Mark.

Mark tilted his head and glared at Jackson coldly. “Not exactly. I mean, you know that stuffed heart in your hand is $15.00 right?” he pointed at what Jackson was holding. “Fifteen whole dollars just for that. And the chocolates next to it, they’re even more. And for what, just so you can show your love for someone by spending a bunch of money one day a year that everything is overpriced?”

Jackson giggled, knowing he hit a nerve with Mark. “I think it’s sweet.” He simply said, pretending to rest his head on the heart like a pillow and sleep peacefully.

“It’s just a socially constructed cash grab that preys on couples and forces those of us who are single to feel even more horrible about not having anyone.” Mark retorted, taking the stuffed heart and placing it back on the shelf.

“Oh c’mon, you must have some Valentine’s Day plans tonight. No special someone?” He asked, now following behind Mark.

Mark put his head down, reminded of Mrs. Duncan’s same question a while earlier. He felt like giving the exact same answer he did before, but stopped himself.

Jackson was the epitome of what the “whole package was.” He was smart, that much Mark knew, going to the same school as him. He was athletic, Mark knew about the teams he was on. He was good looking – Mark wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Jackson was scouted to model internationally, or appear on magazine covers – his face was perfect. The only thing better than Jackson’s beautiful face was perhaps his beautiful body.

Mark didn’t even need to touch Jackson’s body to know how firm and tight it was. Even through the pink sweater he was wearing, Mark was able to see how strong and brick like Jackson’s shoulders were, his biceps flexing unintentionally every time he moved his arm.

“I’m not seeing anyone right now.” Mark muttered back a bit shyly. He was glad Jackson couldn’t see his face.

Jackson stopped answering, and after a few moments Mark had to turn around to see if he was even still walking behind him.

When he turned around, Mark saw Jackson standing there in the middle of the asile, a dumb grin on his face.

“What?” Mark asked, having to walk back to close the large distance that was now between them.

“How long have you worked here, couple years?” Jackson asked.

“Eh, little longer. Why?” Mark shot back, still walking back.

“This can’t be it for you, Mark. What else do you have planned? We finished school a while ago.” Jackson pressed.

Mark stopped in his tracks, there was still about two meters of space between the two boys.

“How did you know my name?” Mark asked, he knew Jackson’s name… but that’s… well, that’s because he was secretly in love with Jackson. There’s absolutely no excuse for Jackson knowing Mark’s name without him saying it.

“Your name tag.” Jackson blinked, pointing at Mark’s chest.

Mark wanted to die.

“Oh. Right.” He answered embarrassed, taking a few steps to make up the last little space.

“Plus, we went to the same high school. How could I not know you in a class of 86 kids.” Jackson explained.

“That’s true, I guess I just didn’t expect you to know me. We didn’t have any classes together I don’t think.” Mark spoke quieter as he checked the time on the clock in the distance: 9:30PM.

Mark wondered how long they’d be trapped in the store, if Gord would realize his mistake and come back and let them out, or if he’d have to spend all night alone with Jackson.

As much as he wanted to go home, relax, play some League of Legends, be alone. This is the first time Mark had ever actually spoken to Jackson, ever, in the four years he’s known about the other boy.

As much as he wanted to be home, all night with Jackson wasn’t looking all that bad either.

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Ohhhkenneth
I'm going to finish chapter three of this story soon so I can click "complete."

Comments

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KitsunePl #1
Chapter 3: Honestly, this is the cutest thing ever. Now, after rereading it for the 20th time all I want is the exact same fic but Jackson pov
Chileangirl
#2
Chapter 3: Awwww!!! cute!!!
nrd0894 #3
Chapter 3: I fell in love with this! :')
rizkasrahmanisa #4
Chapter 3: I REALLY LOVE IT!!!!!
yong_bae
#5
Oml I loved it <3
ayukzobo #6
Chapter 3: Yayyy happy markson,,,soo cuteeee *_*"
ashroto
#7
Chapter 3: Omg I loved this so so so much!!!
ivytlz #8
Chapter 3: awww that was so sweet!! yay for happy markson <3
great job! please write more :)
Nachtice #9
Chapter 3: Cuteness overload! And Markson forever!
That was awesome authornim, congratulations on another story completed!