I blame Tumblr.

Jackson is nervous. More nervous than he was during the final match for the National Olympic Gold in fencing. More nervous than when he told his parents that their golden boy, Olympic champion and popular ladies man is maybe sorta kind of gay. More nervous than when he first asked Mark out—okay, maybe not more nervous than that. But still. He was pretty nervous.

Why, you ask? (And if not, than you can go yourself, thank you very much. This is his internal monologue, go off if you don’t want to hear his melodramatic bull.)

Well. Tonight, he was going to meet Mark’s parents for the first time.

He and Mark have been dating for a little over five months now (five months and twelve days, actually—but who’s counting, right?) and this was Jackson’s first, and perhaps last, chance to be able to make a good impression on someone important in Mark’s life.

The other first meetings with Mark’s close friends didn’t really…go well, per say.

You see, Jackson, before meeting Mark, has had a bit of a turbulent past. Or well, a great propensity towards brewing trouble. He swears that it wasn’t his fault that the local pool’s water turned into grape juice—at least not entirely on purpose. How was he supposed to know that his swimming trunk’s pockets were chocked full of grape juice powder? ing Bambam’s fault, really. And there were a couple of incidents with the authorities here and there. A couple of tickets, restraining orders, mall cops tackling him…nothing big really.

, who was Jackson kidding—Some of Mark’s friends flipped and totally lost their . There was a turbulent period where he had to go Mark-less because his friends refused to let him go anywhere near Jackson. It was very dark times, indeed.

Thankfully the whole matter was somewhat cleared, Jackson gets along well with Mark’s friends now. But still, he really could have done without the judgment and the i-will-not-let-you-corrupt-poor-innocent-Markie looks.

So now, he was determined to be presentable and burn all evidence or possibility of the Tuans finding out about his previous misdemeanors.

Easy enough, right?

…

“Babe, you sure, you’re gonna be alright? I mean we could still cancel. My parents won’t mind.” Mark reassures as he holds both of Jackson’s hands in his, leaning their forehead together. Their breath intermingling and warming their faces.

“No, besides, do you know who I am? I’m JFlawless, na’m sayin?” Jackson bluffs, chuckling a bit underneath his breath at Mark’s unimpressed reaction.

“Mhmm. Then why are your hands shaking then?” Mark asks as he bring up their linked hands and kisses Jackson’s knuckle, looking straight at Jackson the whole time.

Mark really made Jackson feels so weak in the knees sometimes—which doesn’t make sense since Jackson had wonderful and strong thighs and calves. But the fact that Mark Tuan, perfect, handsome, shy boy that he is, is with someone like Jackson—that didn’t make any sense either. But here they were. Holding hands, out in the cold, no one but the two of them in the world.

And this is why Jackson has to meet Mark’s parents, because Mark was it. He’s now ruined for anybody else. No one else but Mark can ever claim to have Jackson Wang’s heart. Oh god, he’s turning into a sap--better make a smart comment.

“Of course my hands are shaking, it’s freaking cold, and your hands are freezing!” Jackson exclaims as he tugs his hands away from Mark’s hold and pulls away. Only to come back into Mark’s space, taking off his own gloves and fitting them over Mark’s hands. Then he grabs both hands and blows on them to warm Mark’s hands.

He looks up at Mark’s eyes with a wide grin; “That's better. Now you're hands won't be cold anymore.”

Mark laughs—the happy one, the one that starts as a chuckle but quickly becomes the chocked back of the throat kind, Jackson’s favorite kind—and shakes his head. They continue to walk towards the house lighted up with Christmas lights at the end of the street; hand in hand, with cold, red cheeks and warm, happy hearts.

“There’s no need to be nervous, I’m sure my parents will love you—I mean, I love you, so it can’t be that hard, right?” Mark offers with a secret smile, looking at Jackson with a sincere look on his face, as they neared the front porch.

Oh god. Jackson better not this up—but really, so much has gone on in his life, God will give him this one.

…

Wrong.

Jackson Wang was Wrong; an Autobiography by Jackson Wang.

Because god ing damn it, of course, nothing can go right for Jackson--effing--Wang.

So remember when Jackson mentioned that he had a mall cop tackle him before?

Well it was an experience that he was definitely going to remember forever.

The thing was, Jackson didn’t have the intention to shop lift, okay? In fact, he was minding his own damn business, looking through HBA’s racks, but guess what happens? Somebody trips the ing alarms by taking a product out of the store and Jackson just happens to catch a glimpse of blonde and what the ever loving hell—is that Bambam?

So like the good hyung that he was, he ran after the little , dragged him into the janitorial closet hidden behind a big fern plant near the corner of the food court and shook the out of Bambam.

“What the are you doing, Bambam? You know you could get into serious trouble for this ? I could have paid for you if you needed it-- what the ?!” Jackson whispers furiously, shaking Bambam’s captured arm, as they try not to make too much noise in the tiny cramped space.

“Hyung! Quit shaking me, you’re making too much noise! And I couldn’t have asked you, I did it as a dare!” Bambam fires back indignantly.

“Kunpimook Buwakhul, are you telling me that you are risking getting your student visa revoked for a dare?!”

“Wait, what? I can get deported?!”

“You little ing , you didn’t even think, did you? Ugh, you are so owing me a ton for this.” Jackson says, rolling his eyes while grabbing for the balled up HBA tank in Bambam’s grasp, before taking a huge breath and sprinting out of the closet and into the mall.

Suffice to say, he wasn’t going to forget the feeling of a grown man’s body, about twice his own weight, falling on top of him. The mall cop’s beard tickled the back of his neck and Jackson was pretty sure he got spit on him as the mall cop, who was severely out of breath, told him that he had a right to be silent and that anything he says can be taken against him in a court of law. And weren’t mall cops not actual real cops?

But getting back to the utter ery happening at hand, when Mark’s father opened the door to welcome him in, it hits Jackson-- he knew that beard and he semi knew that body as well.

Mark Tuan’s dad, the mall cop that tackled Jackson Wang, Mark Tuan’s boyfriend.

Redundancy is redundant. But at least it makes it ing clear that this is not okay. Jackson is not okay.

What the utter .

And Mark’s dad, he doesn’t react, just keeps on smiling warmly and grasps his hand in a firm—maybe a tad tight—hand shake and pats him on the back, welcoming him into their home. Mrs. Tuan follows closely behind in welcoming Mark and him into the house.

Mrs. Tuan tells them that dinner will be ready soon—“Just relax in the living room for a bit, watch some television, maybe?”

So there Jackson was, watching a Taiwanese drama, squished in the loveseat with Mr. Tuan (the mall cop) while Mark sat on the recliner and why did he do that? Weren’t couples supposed to seat in love seats together? And eww, why does Jackson even know what a love seat is?

“So, Jackson, I’ve heard a lot about you from Mark.” Mr. Tuan says all of a sudden, his hand feeling heavy as lead on top of Jackson’s shoulder, smiling warmly and in a fatherly fashion. If Jackson was any other person in the world, it would be, but sadly he was Jackson Wang—so he sits there, in fear of the nice man.

Jackson only chuckles nervously in response before saying a weak; “Only good things, I hope…”

He’s saved when Mrs. Tuan comes and tells them to wash their hands since dinner was ready.

Dinner was a nerve-wracking affair. Everyone was pleasant and smiling and happy and Jackson felt like he was about to soil his pants any minute now.

It was scary that Mark’s dad was acting like he doesn’t know, like his son wasn’t dating the shoplifter that he’d apprehended himself some odd months ago—but then again, it has been a long time. Maybe he’s forgotten.

With that thought in mind, he is able to relax, just in time for dessert—moon cakes, his favorite—and he’s mellowed out enough that he’s more comfortable answering the constant stream of inquiries Mark’s family sent his way.

Mr. Tuan was a pretty funny and laid back kind of guy, now that Jackson’s relaxed enough to observe. Mrs. Tuan, although she kept trying to feed him more moon cakes even though he was close to bursting, is very sweet. Jackson can see where Mark got his smiles from.

Over all, the night was actually going swimmingly well. The Tuans seemed to like him well enough, they laughed at his jokes and they hugged him and patted him on the back.

Jackson may actually be making his first ever good impression, and to these people who actually count.

The fact that the Tuan’s got him a gift is just the cherry at the top of the sundae. Although he did feel a little bad that he hadn’t brought anything else, aside from the bottle of apple cider his mom insisted he brought, Jackson was never one to turn down gifts. It was rude not to accept, really.

Mark seemed just as surprised as Jackson was, about his parents preparing a gift for him. Heck, Mark didn’t even get a gift from his parents.

“Come on, open it!” Mr. Tuan encourages, patting Jackson’s back for what seemed like the thousandth time of the night.

Jackson carefully peels the shiny Christmas tree wrapper, folding it nicely to the side, before cracking open the box to peek inside.

What he sees inside nearly makes him drop the box and its content. He chokes back on his spit and crumples the box in his grip, a little bit, in an effort not to drop it.

Inside the box was the black HBA tank that he had taken from Bambam. The one that the mall cop (Mark’s dad) successfully “retrieved” from him.