Mark fidgeted with his phone. It was almost five and he was right outside the gym Jackson said his fencing practices were held at. He bit his lip, hand hesitating just above the knob of the door when it was pushed forwards, making him take a surprised step back. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he murmured, moving aside to let the person pass. 

“N-no! It’s okay! I just open the door for practice so that it doesn’t get too stuffy inside,” the guy explained. 

“That makes sense.” Mark nodded, still hovering awkwardly by the door. 

“Um, um,” the guy stuttered. “Were you coming to watch practice? They are open practices so, um, you know, can. Please come in!” He gestured to the open door for Mark to walk through. 

Mark nodded and smiled at the guy before he stepped inside the gym; the man stumbled back into the gym after him. 

“Kim! Hurry up and get your over here! Practice is about to start!” 

Mark hurried to the bleachers where a few smatterings of people were sitting, scurrying up to the top seats so he could see the entire gym. There were two separate mats set up for practice matches set up along the floor, fencers putting on their fencing armour around them. Mark craned his neck to get a glimpse of Jackson, but didn’t spot him before the coaches blew their whistles and all the fencers put on their masks. 

Mark stared, transfixed by all the matches, trying to identify which agile, striking body was Jackson’s. It was hard to tell when all the armor made everyone identical, but he eyes the bulkier fencers all the same. 

Mark observed the footwork of the fencers, noting how light they were on their feet. He watched a matched and solely dedicated his gaze to their dancing steps, wondering what it would be like to play fight Jackson when the coach blew his whistle shrilly. “Alright, all of you clearly can’t get it together today, so I’m ending practice early. I want all of you in the gym tomorrow morning doing weights and cardio, do you hear me?! Go on, dismissed!” 

The fencers whipped off their masks and slowly gathered into little pockets. They drained their water bottles and wiped the sweat off their faces, their eyes always drawn back to the bleachers. Mark thought it was nice that they had someone watching in the crowd, supporting them. It completely went over his head that all the fencers were staring at him. 

The crowd started to go down the bleachers and Mark followed them. He walked slowly to try and spot Jackson, but thankfully he heard him before he saw him. At the sound familiar loud laughter, Mark’s gaze was drawn to the right side of gym where Jackson was talking loudly and gesturing wildly. He ran a hand through his hair and Mark blushed to himself, he was so handsome. 

He walked by the side of the court, slowly making his way towards where Jackson was standing, mind scrambling on how to alert him he was here, biting his lips when he was within a few meters of where Jackson was standing. One of the fencers closer to where Mark was accidentally dropped his duffel bag, drawing gazes unconsciously because of the sudden sound. Jackson turned to look at the source of the sound as well and caught Mark’s gaze when he was shifting to look back to the group he was speaking to. He froze for a few seconds before Mark awkwardly waved at him, smiling his bright, shy smile. Jackson’s eyes widened slightly before his face broke into a happy grin that made the butterflies in Mark’s stomach do aerial loops, pushing past the people he was talking to to walk over to him. 

“Yien!” 

Mark shifted his weight from foot to foot, unsure what to do. What was the appropriate way to greet Jackson? Give him a high five? A handshake? A bro hug? It was decided for him when Jackson cane rushing towards him with raised arms. Mark stepped into Jackson’s arms, his own arms winding around Jackson’s waist, stepping so close they were pressed together. Uncaring of any sweat, Mark’s mind said it before he was leaning forward to press a kiss against Jackson’s cheek. It was all worth feeling Jackson jolt it shock and smiled dazedly at him. 

“Hi,” Marked giggled, booping Jackson’s nose with his own, greeting him in Mandarin. 

“Hey yourself,” Jackson replied back in kind, raising a hand to brush a thumb over Mark’s cheek, feeling him smile against the palm of his hand. 

( “Oh come on!” 

“Okay, that’s definitely not fair.” 

“Why is it always, Jackson?!” ) 

One of the fencing coaches made their way to where Jackson and Mark were standing, lost in their own little bubble. 

“Jackson!” He called, jolting the two back to reality. "Can you tell your pretty boyfriend to wear a hood or a hat next time if he's gonna sit through practice? He kept distracting everyone in here because they kept trying to stare at him." 

Mark went red so fast Jackson was concerned that he'd faint. 

"Um," Jackson began, looking back and forth from Mark to his coach. "Of course, Coach, I'm sorry Coach." 

His coach nodded and clapped him on the back, smiling gruffly at Mark and turned around to get the other fencers to disperse since none of them had gone and changed in the locker room yet. 

"I'll, I'll go wait outside," Mark said, cheeks still a bright pink. Jackson moved forward (because he was allowed! ALLOWED!!) to peck Mark quickly on the lips, delighting that it brought back more red into his face. 

"Okay," Jackson agreed. "I'll be out soon alright?" 

Mark made an affirmative noise in his throat and smiled that smile that Jackson already loved before he squeezed Jackson's hand and stepped back to step out of the gym. 

Jackson didn't care about the ribbing he knew he'd get as he watched Mark walk out with the ditziest smile on his face.