Sometimes Mark really wonders how they got here. He was currently lying in his bed, a big, comfy, warm and human blanket wrapped around. The blanket's name was Jackson a.k.a. his weird, best friend.

And it was not as if Mark wanted to cuddle. (Yup, lying to himself.)

It was always Jackson. (Liar~ ...again.))

It became a tradition that after their dance training Jackson would stay over the night. It was such a tradition that when Jackson didn't stay over one night, both parents asked them if they had a fight or if they were feeling sick.

How was it possible to be toned while remaining so....soft. Comfortable. Warm. PERFECT. 

And Jackson was a pro-cuddler. It's like he was born for cuddling. He would nudge and shove ( and kick) Mark until both were lying in the best position possible.

The younger one was always the first to fall asleep.

What was good. (So Mark could watch him) And obvious. Because the poor young man had fencing training + dance training. He couldn't skip fencing and switching days was out of options. It started with Mark wanting to go to the dance training but being a little nervous and unsure. So Jackson grabbed his collar and dragged him there. Literally. He also stayed there with him. And danced. Like a mothering goddess. Mark was a brilliant dancer himself but he didn't expect... that.

When he confronted Jackson about this on their way home, the younger told him that it was like...an old hobby. Mark kept silent but when they were at Mark's place with the elder already sitting on the bed and Jackson on the other side of the room, he exploded.

"I considered you one of my best friends. And you never told me!"

Jackson clutched his chest dramatically, then relaxed again and smiled that lazy grin, one brow arching.

"Considered? One of?", he said. 

Mark threw a pillow at him.

Jackson dodged it, picked it up and crawled into bed.

This little over confident jerk.

There was one bad thing about cuddling with Jackson. Even tho they were tangled like one person...he always managed to steal the blanket.

But then again Mark was allowed to use Jacks arm as a pillow. And it was worth the blanket. Well, almost.

One hot summer night

"Jacks, move! It's too hot for cuddling...", Mark grumbled and nudged the boy next to him. They had just shorts on, no blanket, the window wide open. 

"Sorry...", the younger mumbled and moved a tiny little bit, already half asleep. 

But not asleep enough to not tease Mark. "You're the one who called it cuddling."

"Shut up!", Mark wanted to growl but only managed a whine and he wanted to smack him but only managed to move his arm enough so his hand landed in Jackson's face. Which almost had the same effect as hitting him.

"Gdgdhsbxhdj", Jacks growled into the pillow and shook off the arm.

Mark lay awake. And still lay awake. Nothing was comfy enough. He shifted around for anothef10 minutes until he finally gave up and gave in.

"Jacks, move over here, I can't sleep."

"Tsss..", Jackson hissed and though it was just a friking hiss, Mark could hear the mischievous grin in it. And the pure satisfaction. Though, the younger boy obediently moved closer, put his arm as a pillow and the other arm lightly on Mark's waist. Mark set his head down and watched as the other boy nuzzled his head somewhere between Mark's shoulder and neck. It took only 2 minutes for the both of them to be fast asleep.