in which the narrator obsesses over the idea of gentle mornings.

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jack lies wrapped in a familiar pair of arms on his single bed, pressed tight against his elders chest as mark pushes his fingers through faded green strands.

"you're so pretty."

a soft voice mumbles, as soft brown eyes - hooded with exhaustion - scan over every inch of his lovers body.

"no i'm not."

jack protests childishly, voice thick with sleep, and gravelled due to his newly-woken state.

"yes you are."

sun travels in through cracks in the blinds, illuminating small parts of jacks outretched legs with a warm amber glow and rainbow highlights. the irishman watches the dust dance amidst the morning rays, forming pretty swirls of specs for his eyes to appreciate at such hours in the morning. mark finds his fingers unconsciously twisting strands of his lovers hair between his fingers, softly, as to not disturb nor hurt the boy.

jack pushes back against marks hand, and hums contentedly.

"you're so pretty, baby. i think you're just the prettiest thing on the planet. you're so precious. just wanna keep you here, and hold you forever."

mark rambles, all soothing voice and gentle touches, and breath ghosting cold over jacks neck making the hairs stand on end.

"that'd be nice."

whispers the irishman, who's turning, so his chest touches marks, and gazing up at his equally as tired boyfriend with a look of content.

"you make me so happy to be alive."

jack can't help but to giggle, and scrunch up his nose whilst marks leans down to kiss the space between whirlwind eyes cautiously.

"wanna treat you like a princess. wanna make sure you're okay. wanna be the reason you smile. god, seán, i just wanna make you so so happy."

and he's listening, wonder how he could have been blessed with a man that had such a large heart and an even larger amount of love for him.

"you don't have to worry about that, mark. you already do all of those things."

and upon hearing those words, mark realises that he has never felt more in love. and the urge to show that, is growing.

so he leans down quickly, and brushes his slowly drying lips to jacks temple, listening to the gentle hitch of breath in jacks throat as he does so. pale hands roam shoulders, and venture over marks torso and chest and eventually rest at his collarbones, where they twist worn fabric between fragile fingers.

and jack falls deeper in love with marks morning smile, that shines down at him from above, and ignites a spark in his body.

they kiss, gently.

like it's two in the morning, and they're trying not to get caught, wrapped in each other's arms after a night of nothing but pure love and content. like they're hesitant, and only have just met, and they act like their hands tremble and like there's still the fear of forgetting the others name, but it's more likely that they'll forget there own because they're so blinded by thoughts of the other person.

like they are fragile, afraid, yet so, so in love.

"seán, oh god seán."

the elder mumbles words, lips brushing jacks and pulling a giggle from the younger.

"i'm so in love with you. and i think that you should know, i am happy.
because of you."

and they're kissing again. less hesitant, and afraid, more knowing, and sure. and jacks hands grip tight onto marks pyjama shirt whilst their noses brush as mark tilts his head, and edges backwards.

"well, if this is how i will wake every morning, then i'm glad to say that i am in love with you, and i am happy to be in love with you."

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it's short, but i thought maybe it'd be best kept short. i feel like maybe i should have put everything in italics but nah. hope you enjoyed bois.
-a.