Jackson Wang

Author of Your ism

Jackson didn’t realize something was wrong with him until he saw Mark Tuan. The first time they met was in the practice room. At that time, Jackson was introduced as JYP new trainee for the first time. To Say he’s nervous was an understatement. He’s foreigner that came to strange country from afar without really know how to be an idol. The staff told him that there’re also several foreigners as trainee there. The staff then mentioned names while pointing at said person, to let Jackson know who’s who. Jackson nodded and waved back at Bambam when the boy was being mentioned (the Thai was terribly cute at that time). Then, the staff introduced Jackson to someone called Mark Tuan. The American – Jackson learned later he’s elder and lived in L.A, but his parent were Chinese – didn’t smile nor sending a cute hand wave like Bambam did. No, far from that, Mark just stared at him and that’s how it all began.

At that time, to Jackson the world didn’t stop, or moving slower like what he usually saw at movies. Quite contrary, Jackson very much aware that time’s ticking and almost every pair of curious eyes were on his face the longer he stayed to study every detail of the American’s face. He realized it just fine but he can’t bring himself to look away. Now that he thinks about it, he’s wondering what’s there to ogle at. Mark was all sweaty from his dance practice earlier. He didn’t wear even a sheer of make-up. His hair unkempt, hidden behind green beanie he wore. His clothes consisted of white oversized T-shirt, black training and red sneakers.

Nothing unusual from the way Mark dressed up. Nothing unusual from the way he moved to fan himself either. He’s… ordinary, in the most extraordinary way possible. Confuse? Yeah, Jackson had it all the time. Mark IS ALWAYS that confusing to him. Lately, Jackson avoided to answer question whether Mark was his best friend, member he closest to, and whether Mark was the best member. Answering those questions would lead to explanation and that’s the problem. Jackson can’t explain without being too obvious. And Mark didn’t fit to entire category above. Mark wasn’t his best friend. Jaebum was his best friend, so did Bambam, Jinyoung, Yugyeom, and Youngjae. They are all his family, but Jackson didn’t obsess with them like he obsessed with Mark.

The obsession about Mark was something Jackson preferred to keep. Although from the way Jaebum smiled knowingly whenever there’s interaction between the two, Jackson knew he didn’t do amazing job to hide it. Yet he’s already keeping it for years now. Well, if Mark knew what Jackson’s been thinking of the elder, Mark would be afraid. He SHOULD be - it even scared Jackson sometimes.   

Now, please sit down while Jackson sharing about his personification called Mark Tuan. It would be long rant, so find a good and comfortable position. There might be some incoherent and disorganized thought but bear with it. Keep in mind that Jackson never shares it with anyone before.

After their encounter, Jackson can’t let go of the American. They shared two same languages, English and Chinese and that’s relieving for Jackson. He felt like he has someone to talk to, even though mostly their conversation was going one way. They studied Korean together, they learned to dance and rapping. Slowly, yet in fearful realization, all of Jackson’s day filled with Mark’s presence in the corner. It’s not too bold, it’s kind of subtle but it’s there. Mark didn’t light up his dark sky like a sudden firework. Instead, his presence was more like constant gentle sunray that seeped behind the curtain and kissed your skin.

Let’s review how Jackson sees Mark, whether his physics, attitude, anything. Starting from the top, then down to toe, Jackson had a lot of opinion about every inch of Mark. First, let’s talk about Mark’s hair. Jackson can’t comprehend how the elder’s hair was always naturally soft and straight, even after bombarded with tons of chemicals. Without any hair product, each strands flawlessly fell onto his forehead, sometimes covered his eyes. Jackson always had this urge to brush the hair back, but then Mark already flipped his hair. He did that quite often that Jackson was sure every fans at least ever witness that bits of perfection through the screen. Imagine seeing it up close, right in front of you. Sometimes, Jackson thought Mark was merciless.

That’s about texture, let’s also talk about color. The stylist like to play with Mark’s hair, experiment with various colors and Mark rocked it all. Every. Single. One. Red, brunette, blonde, ash, you named it, he rocked it. But Jackson’s favorite was red. It’s scarlet red which turned into several shades lighter and darker depends on the light. The bright color complimented his pale skin and dark eyes the best.

Let’s go down to his eyes. Jackson personally thought those eyes were the most expressive pair of eyes he ever sees. The Hong Kong representative was ready to fight anyone that didn’t agree with him on this matter. Mark was reserved and quiet, yet his eyes always openly told a thousand stories. His eyes twinkled in excitement whenever he dance and rap. Sometimes those eyes also twinkled in mischief whenever he pranked someone or did something childish. In happiness, his eyes would turn into slid but you can tell the dark brown orbs looked slightly brighter. In rage, his eyes became darker. There were some facets that almost black, just like stormy night. When he cried, his eyes will shone by the glassy tear. Jackson despised it when Mark cried but he can’t deny Mark’s beautiful even in that state and the look in his eyes was enticing.

Jackson also had to admit that most of the time sometimes, Jackson stopped what he’s doing altogether to openly admire the animated eyes. You had to be pretty close to being able to see the change within Mark’s eyes. And if it wasn’t secret, Jackson would gladly boast that he’s that close.

Mark’s nose, where did Jackson begin? It’s a perfect sculpture. It’s a perfect complement with those eyes, with that face. It’s not pointy but Mark got a slim bridge that slightly crooked. Jackson noticed Mark’s side profile was pretty, accentuated with his nose. It would be Jackson’s forever dirty little secret but one night, when Mark was asleep, he traced a finger to Mark’s nose. He’s done it just once and felt like creep right after. But the smooth sensation on his fingertip was something he would never forget.

Don’t forget those ears, those little ears that fitted well with earring. Jackson adored it when Mark wore dangle earrings. It highlighted his flawless skin and slim jaw. At this point, Jackson also noticed that he adored everything about the eldest. Everything he does and wears were not only right, it was pretty as well. Jackson didn’t really fond of repeating what he had said, but he would repeat it again that sometimes, Mark looked like an angel. He wouldn’t be that baffle if the elder suddenly spurted a pair of wings on his back.

Let’s take a moment to appreciate those pair of lips. The first thing Jackson noticed about Mark’s lips was the bottom lip was supple and thicker than the upper lip and also the color resembled ripped peach. Really, Jackson could compose a song that entirely just worshiped Mark’s lips. The elder’s lips looked moist every time and Jackson was dying to feel it. Okay, let’s stop here before Jackson’s mind dwelled too much into the gutter. It’s not only the lips but what Mark did with those lips. The way the American bit and his bottom lip drove Jackson mad. The way the corner of those lips lifted up and flashed people his pearly white teeth, words just can’t do justice of explanation. Jackson was into Mark’s toothy smile. His long canines and neat teeth flashed between those pinkish lips. Jackson had to admit sometimes he’s being an extra just to earn that smile. Jackson can’t get enough of Mark’s smile whenever Jackson did something silly. Mark would smile wide, sometimes laugh, with scrunched forehead and Jackson could clearly see his laughter line and bobbed Adam’s apple. Those smiles worked better than vitamin and organic tea for Jackson.

Shall we move to his neck? That pale column and slender neck. Jackson had to admit that sometimes he loss control and ran his fingers upon the smooth skin. He could spend hours to trace Mark’s nape and ruffled his hair. His favorite moments were at those private nights, away from camera and the world, when Mark rubbed the stiffness on his neck. That gave Jackson excuse he needed to replace the hand with his own. Then Jackson’s heart will leap under his ribcage when the elder leaned into his touch. Sometimes, when they’re sitting, Mark would doze off that Jackson had to stop and cushioned him instead, not that he was complaining, mind you. If they were in their respective room, Mark would stir, mumbled incoherently and drowsily allowed the younger to put him to bed. If they were in practice room or living room couch, Mark would shift not to rest his dead weight on Jackson but the later would only pull him closer. Then Mark just snuggled up on the younger’s chest. And that’s exactly when Jackson had this sensation of warmness spread all over his body.

If the others walked off that scene they would tip toeing, not wish to bother the elder’s peaceful sleep. Some would give extra reaction, for example Jinyoung would coo about how cute Mark’s sleeping face, not that Jackson can’t see it to himself. Jaebum would smirk unknowingly and Yugyeom pretended to scrunch his nose and muttered “Ew Markson”.

Where was Jackson again? Oh right, let’s travel down to Mark’s arm. What’s there to say about those slender yet well-shaped arms? You can see by yourself the beauty of it. Although slim, those arms were all taut muscles. Every movement involved those arms got Jackson thrilled. He marveled on how pretty Mark’s fingers, especially when adorned with rings given by his parents. Jackson would never say this to the eldest but the fact that Mark always wore those rings in every possible situation was endearing. In fact, that’s the major consideration for Jackson to choose couple bracelet instead. He didn’t want to position Mark to choose between him and his parents (he bounded to lose in that case). Call him a kid but he wanted to be the only one Mark remembered when he saw and felt the bracelet on his wrist.  

Even in his worst day, the sight of Mark wore the bracelet that Jackson especially custom for him was able to brighten his mood. Again with the warm sensation, he felt it knowing Mark wore couple thing with him, and Mark treasured it, constantly wore it.

Another thing that derailed Jackson was the contrast between how frail Mark’s arm looked and how strong it actually was. Jackson sometimes forgot that Mark actually strong, maybe stronger than him in some case. And the elder didn’t take a long time to surprise Jackson with it. Those arms were strong enough to support his body whenever he did martial art tricking. Those hands also steady to catch Jackson whenever the younger jumped on him. That’s also the main reason Jackson had no fear in doing trust fall at their ‘If You’ choreography. Not only trust, he knew Mark would hold him without fail. The one time they fell, Mark cushioned his fall.

Jackson also won’t miss the way the elder touched him. It’s not that the elder was the only one who touched him. It’s also not because Mark’s touch was unusual or inappropriate (duh). It’s just all cells of Jackson’s body reacted to even the slight brush of Mark’s fingertips on his skin. Jackson didn’t have any favorite touch, every touch Mark did was endearing to his heart. The simple gesture such as brush on his hair or Mark’s nonchalant way to search and laced their finger together were enough to put Jackson’s heart soaring.

It’s not only his arm, his entire body was slim yet strong. He didn’t put up weight easily, although Mark eats a lot. He worked up to increase his weight but he’s easily lost it. Sometimes mark was underweight that sunken his cheeks and hollowed the skin under his eyes. Jackson then would bring him to eat a full course meal, to make sure the elder had enough nutrition to gain back weight. Beneath those baggy sweaters the American liked to wear, Jackson could hug the elder and still had some empty space between his arms due to Mark’s slender waist. Although knowing how strong the American could be, Jackson can’t brush off this strong urge to protect him.

His legs were long and slim. It’s not as long and slim as Bambam, whom Jackson swore his legs began right under his chest. Mark’s legs were well-proportional to his body. Jackson was such a trash for those legs on skinny ripped jeans. In his humble opinion, no one pulled off skinny jeans better than Mark. It’s as if skinny jeans were invented just for Mark to wear. But similar to his arm, Mark’s legs also strong. He never lost his footing when Jackson suddenly jumped on his back. Mark had carried him on his back through all block to their dorm because he lost at scissor-paper-stone with the younger. Jackson was about to get down after few steps, didn’t expect Mark to actually carry him all the way to dorm. But the elder did, perfectly at that, like everything else he did.  

For someone looked so pretty and delicate, Mark loved boyish activities and had lots of manly qualities. He’s athletic, loved to play basketball, skateboard, and lots of extreme sport that made Jackson dizzy even just seeing it. Mark’s contradicted like that and that just intrigued Jackson even more.

That streak of manliness never fails to swoon Jackson away. There were these moments when Mark wordlessly took care of him, being the elder of the two. It’s mostly when Jackson sick or injured. Mark would support him then with warm gesture such as encircle Jackson’s waist with his arm. When Jackson fractured his hand, Mark carried his belonging, and protected his hand. Mark supported his fractured hand and acted as the extension of said hand. When he’s sick, Mark went out to buy meds and food for him. There’s this one time that particularly stuck on Jackson’s mind. When he was recovering from sore throat and flu, members buy snack and ice cream. Jackson picked his favorite ice cream but Mark took it from him and replaced it with jelly instead.

Hey,’ Jackson remembered what he said that time, thinking Mark probably just playing a joke on him.

You said speak is tiring because your throat hurt, did you not?’ The elder retorted back. He opened the jelly wrapper for the younger and placed it back on his hand.

Great, no ice cream for me,’ Jackson mumbled but can’t hide his blush when Mark smiled and brushed his hair after Jackson obediently munched on his jelly. Damn ice creams, Jackson would eat jelly for the rest of his live if he could acquire that adorable smile again.

There’s also this one time when Jackson almost cried because he missed his parent at their concert. The younger already hid his face to shield his teary eyes from everyone yet Mark bended down (curse his taller figure) to catch his eyes and again, wordlessly pulled him closer to hug him. It would accompany with his toothy smile that encouraging Jackson beyond words.

If Jackson hadn’t fall in love with Mark before, he definitely fell in love with this gentle and manly side of Mark.

What was there left to talk about again? Ah, let’s talk about Mark’s deep voice. The voice that boomed with charisma every time he rapped, and sang. Definitely sang. Jackson can’t get over that voice hummed or produced melodious tone. It’s a pity the elder didn’t have enough confident in singing that hearing him sings was a sacred moment even in fellow GOT7. It was a blessed to the ear and Jackson always longed to hear more.

Honestly speaking, Jackson spent countless night lie awake, thinking how it would be if he had guts to steal kisses from the eldest. Yeah, it’s kisses in plural, because without even trying, Jackson already knew one won’t be enough. Jackson never thought himself as greedy man but apparently he was. He’s greedy for the American, never get enough of him. And indeed he stole quick kiss on Mark’s smooth porcelain cheek, but he wished for those temptation, the forbidden fruit that known as Mark Tuan’s lips. How would the sensation be? Warm? Was it soft and moist like how it always looked?

He longed to touch that porcelain skin. He longed to mapping him, traced every curved, and marked him as his own. He wanted to reveal the secret within that skin and kept in for himself. He never wished for something else than to be able to embrace the elder without searching for excuse. Further, he wished to be the reason smile painted Mark’s face. He wished to be the first one to adore the American’s sleeping face, illuminated by the sun that its glow seeped through the curtains. Jackson would be delighted if he’s the last person Mark sees, Mark thinks of before he went to bed.

He wanted to envelope the elder with warm, abundant love, for the rest of their life, until their skin became saggy and they became cranky.  

And it hurt sometimes. It hurt Jackson more than he imagined knowing he can’t have it. Mark was near, very near, he was close. But he’s not within Jackson’s reach. Too many at stake, be it their career, their family, their future. Jackson had his first crisis when he realized about it. The fact was suffocating. But then he talked it out with his mother. His mother was shocked to hear it from him, but after some time, she gradually understood and let Jackson did whatever his heart wanted to. Nowadays, she could even joke that no one actually resistant to Mark’s charm, and she’s never as right.

Jackson prepared for it. He was ready. He’s ready to lose his fame, his career, and his future, all traded with his future with Mark. It’s not a lovesick decision, quite the contrary, he thought about it deliberately. He established his own production house, Team Wang, to secure his future as artist, to rebuild his career. He told his family about Mark, ask them to accept the American as the sole person Jackson would involve in romance. He was ready.

But Mark wasn’t.

That’s the sole reason Jackson kept his feeling all to himself. It’s not only his future at stake, it’s also Mark’s. And Jackson knew more than anyone how Mark loved his career, his family, and loved where he was now. Jackson would never, ever rob it from the elder.

And there’s Got7. It would affect them too, affected their future, if the news that one of the member was actually gay and in love with the other member spread, then they all would kiss their career goodbye. Jackson had a faith in though, his family. Jackson believed them. They would be angry, furious even. But at the end, they would understand. At the end, they would accept him with open arm.

If worse comes to worst, Jackson was in the middle to establish Team Wang to accommodate them all. They won’t be under the name of Got7 again probably, but they will be together, seven of them. They won’t have their fame as they’re now but there would be place for them to be an artist.

But that’s far stretched scenario. On the first place, Mark didn’t reciprocate the same feeling as he has. That’s the fact that Jackson had to respect. He’s a beauty that out of Jackson’s reached. Was it because it’s too beautiful that it was out of reach? Or was it because it out of reach its beautiful?

“-Son, Jackson! Gaga!”

The familiar call and the familiar voice brought him from the trance. Jackson blinked and he’s face to face with the subject of his . He saw those brown orbs twinkling with annoyance. Jackson had to work his brain hard to comprehend what’s the American talking about instead off drooling over his lips.

“Did you hear what I just say?” Mark questioned, fingers playfully gripped on Jackson’s chin to focus the younger’s gaze at him. As if he really needed it since all Jackson saw was him. Unknown to Mark, his touch stirred something within Jackson.

“No, sorry,” Jackson replied, tried to gather his scattering thought. He brushed off those fingers and walked away the table at the corner of the room. He chose one water bottle and screwed the cap, paid too much attention to it to divert his attention away.

“They said we’ll be up in 20 minutes,” Mark repeated what the stage staff told them earlier. The rest already gathered behind the stage, watching other group’s performance.

“’Kay,” Jackson responded before gulped down the water.

Behind him, he could feel Mark watched his back, causing it to lift with tension. The younger had been drilling a hole into Mark’s face with his stare and loss terribly deep in thought. That showed some level of internal mess, as clear as neon sign to Mark. Though the elder clueless that he’s the center of the mess.

The American walked closer to the Hong Kong representative. “Gaga?” he called, and Jackson almost whined at the sneaky strategy. The elder was well known he never ignores his childhood name. And indeed Jackson can’t ignore it this time too, especially when it’s Mark who called him.

“Is something the matter?”

Jackson flashed the elder a little smile. “No, everything’s good,” he lied, even though the smile felt stiff on his lips and those words burnt his tongue.

 By a little arch of Mark’s eyebrow, the younger knew he didn’t buy it in the slightest. Mark was always attentive to everyone around him. Of course, Jackson was no exception. If anything, thanks to their spent time together, Mark was even more aware about him, the fact that both delighting and burdening Jackson at the same time.

Wordlessly, Mark hopped and sat himself on the table next to where Jackson’s standing. Unconsciously, Jackson’s avoiding eye contact with the elder. The silence treatment was Mark’s most lethal weapon to get piece of information he wanted. The elder took the water bottle from the younger, brushed their finger at the process. The light touch sent jolt of reaction into Jackson, drew him to watch as Mark took a sip.

He watched those lips pressed to the bottle’s tip and the bobbed of his Adam’s apple when Mark swallowed, the biggest mistake in Jackson’s entire life. He forcefully closed his eyes and hissed. Suddenly, beneath the dark of his closed eyes, Jackson remembered the wise words his mother throwing at him.

I don’t think you can always endure and hide your feeling to yourself, Gaga, she said back then. You always full of affection, let alone love. There will be time when you won’t be able to control it anymore, because it’s been storage inside you for too long.

And to everything holy in the world, Jackson realized with the dreadful realization, the time wasn’t far. Another call on his name snapped his eyes open, and he hit by the close-up version of Mark’s concern face. Seeing the angelic face his breath. A blink of his eyes, a swift of his scent, all hit Jackson hard, and bombarded his senses.

Damn, everything knocked Jackson’s chain of control open, he could feel it loosen. Jackson stupidly scanned Mark’s face starting to his framed hair down. All barraged him mercilessly, and rendered him surrender. He found himself unable to continue, stuck on those lips. And he saw it, the way the pink tongue slipped out to moist the bottom lip. It captivated Jackson too much that he mimicked the act.

The fencer didn’t know what cause it; is it the shaky breathe Mark let out, or is it the way Mark suddenly shifted on his seat, although the elder didn’t move from his position, that drew Jackson’s attention back on Mark’s face. Now that Jackson clearly saw the American’s expression, he noticed his face was slightly flushed in adorable fuschia color.

“Mark,” Jackson breathed in defeat, didn’t care to put pretense anymore. All his feelings and desires flowed out like an open dam.

Without paid full mind about it, Jackson nested himself in between Mark’s open legs. He got tired of what his mind denied him and for once, he just let his heart took the lead. For once, he allowed himself what his heart wanted. So, he stood there, in between Mark’s legs, hand supported on the table beside each Mark’s tight, and leaned in to the elder. To his contentment, Mark didn’t withdraw from him.

Then, he openly stared at his personal forbidden fruit.

Second, minutes passed, maybe hours, eternity, Jackson didn’t care. Time was alienated concept, even from the first time they met. 

“Jackson,” his name whispered between the tiny gaps of the lips. Jackson hummed an answer, somewhere at the back of his head realized how submissive yet doubtful it sounded.

“I… I had my make-up done.”

The absurd sentence was confusing and Jackson really was about to questioning it but something registered on his mind. He remembered the sentence. It’s the same reaction Mark told him when Jackson said he would kiss him on his birthday.

The fencer immediately lifted his face, all very soon that he could feel his neck strained some muscles. But it’s not important right now. The important was what Jackson saw on Mark’s eyes. Jackson believed after years spending together, he already saw every facet changed in his eyes. He was dead wrong because he never saw Mark’s eyes blazed with, dare he says, desire, just like it was now. Right now, those eyes molded like liquid brown.

Jackson stared at it intently, waiting for the right timing to move. The time was never came, because the elder’s lips lifted upward into enticing smile and before Jackson could do anything, those hands were on his neck and pulled him closer. Jackson’s eyes automatically fluttered close when he felt the forbidden fruit touched his lips.

His mind was right. It’s forbidden. This sensation should be forbidden. Stars exploded beneath his closed lids. His mind electrocuted, he can’t think, he didn’t want to. All he wanted was absorbed every sensation he received. He’s warm. The warm emanated from Mark’s fingertips which rest on his nape, framed his cheeks, and at the same time, pulled the younger closer. The main source of the warmness nested on Jackson’s lips. His lips inwardly curled into a blooming smile when he realized it tasted way more moist and soft, than he constantly imagine. He absorbed the way his stomach did summersaults. He’s the happiest man alive.

For someone that dreamed about it as long as he could remember and now finally got it, Jackson had an outstanding patient. He allowed Mark to do as he pleased, on his pace. The elder shyly, almost sacredly molded their lips together. Jackson moved along with him. His own hands circled Mark’s slender waist, prevented the elder to fly away, but not confined him, not pulled him closer either. He just kept Mark there.

But this is Mark we’re talking about. Mark, the eldest that most of the times acted like the youngest. Mark, the calmest that sometimes shout and jumping jokes around. Mark, the most reserved yet loved to be prankster and mischief.

Today, Jackson learned that Mark, the angelic, could turn into the most sinful devil.

The elder suddenly nipped on Jackson’s bottom lip and tugged at it. At the same time, the act tugged Jackson’s rationality and control away. The hands that earlier set to keep Mark at his place now clutched at his waist like an iron grip and he lifted the elder off the table, carried him with an ease.

Mark chuckled, music straight on Jackson’s ear. The American naturally wrapped his limbs around the fencer, hands around his shoulders and legs around his torso.

“Don’t drop me down,” Mark playfully warned Jackson, fingers treaded at the chestnut hair.

Jackson smiled along with him, hand securely placed on the elder’s back. He then lifted his face and once again met their lips together, tasting his forbidden fruit all over again.

 

 

Written by : Honey June

 

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HoneyJune
This is my first ever Markson story! If everything goes right... this will be the first of many more ^^

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Erah23
#1
Chapter 1: This is lovely... I’m totally into it. I can severely understand Jackson here. I wish there was more but if there was more I know some drama would come over. So i’ll stay in this little bubble and be happy for them both Xd