need to know | this is just a cute fic ─ title kinda says it all.
word count | 3,003
author's note | this is a little bit of a "coming back" fic, relating just a bit to how it feels to slowly be coming back onto wattpad again. hope you guys like it!
────
"I'd sacrifice myself for you," he whispered into your ear. The heat of the California sun beat down on the ground ahead of you, yet the two of you were shaded by the tree towering over you. It felt right, sitting next to him, feeling his forearm against your lower back and his shoulder against your ear.
Nothing had ever felt more right.
And now, as you sat in the same spot, without him there, it felt different. It felt wrong.
He wasn't there to make a joke about the people standing around, silent and awkward. He wasn't there to make a pun on the Joshua trees, or talk about the mysteries of the stars. He wasn't there to make those really bad pickup lines, nor was he there to tell you that even though your hair was probably in the messiest bun known to man, it was still beautiful.
Your legs tangled together in the sheets, your clothed back against his bare chest and his lips softly planting themselves against the shell of your ear, your neck, your jawbone. No words were exchanged, the two of you simply taking in the sweet, solemn moment.
The hand against your hip and the fingertips tracing random patterns on your side elicited the strangest excitement in you – the strangest want you'd really ever experienced. It wasn't a type of lusting want, it wasn't something that would cause rather drastic changes in your relationship. It was just the want to have more of him, to have more of the Mark pressed against you in the early morning, and a want to have the Mark that really, really knew you.
Now, that want, it felt like something you'd never really ever experience again. Those moments, those memories, would be nothing more than fragments in your mind, reminders of days you'd thrown away for a life that would never be as good as the one you had.
All of this had started when you went on, what started as, a trip back to California. Your plan was to visit the sites one more time, bask in the environment you'd missed so dearly when you moved to New York for a couple years to help your friend Lin out with something.
Once you decided he would be good to head out on his own, you called him and let him know that you would be taking a long overdue vacation from the crazy-busy world that was entailed with being friends with Lin. The trip to Cali was filled with laughing at your own stupidity, yelling songs of all different genres at the top of your lungs, and a few birds flipped at the idiots on the highways.
You stopped at a few stores that looked too cute or interesting to be so empty, bought a few things here and there, but for the most part, stayed your course. There were only a few nights you spent in a hotel, and at one of them, the clerk there was more than interested in your personal life, asking question after question after question when all you were trying to do was sign in for a night.
Other than that, it was probably one of the most fun times you'd had on a road trip across the nation (not that there were a lot of those).
The smile and the happiness that embraced you when you drove across the California border was something you weren't sure was ever describable. It was like being home for the first time in decades, or the feeling of finally being able to get into a house after a long, squalling rainstorm ─ not to say that spending time with Lin was relatable to a rainstorm; he's all sunshine and rainbows.
Of course, you stayed away from the one place, the one reason you were coming back to Cali, and drove to the old vacation spots you used to go to. That's where you remembered the most distinct moments of your relationship, the memories you never, ever wanted to let go for fear of losing who you were. He was a part of you just as you were him, and the two years you spent in New York felt empty in comparison to what it felt like with him.
After that, you made the trip back to L.A.
The roadways felt so familiar, and the shops you were obsessed with were still open and functioning, yet there wasn't a face you recognized on the sidewalk. You decided that maybe, just maybe, you could hit up a few old friends, find a place to crash for a few days and then decide if you wanted to leave.
Until then, you chose to drive through the neighborhoods you used to drive daily, going from one place to another and running errands. Music played a little loud from your radio as you turned onto the street where your old apartment was, and you could see that it was occupied once more ─ Jery was always obsessed with making sure all of his apartments were filled, "Better for my business," he'd say.
You still remembered moving in on the first day, and that feeling that held your stomach in a ball of excitement as you thought of everything that might happen to you in the next few years of your life. For the first week and a half, you didn't have any furniture, so that time was mostly filled with going to IKEA and finding some really nice, Swedish stools that would go excellent with the white aesthetic of your small, almost studio apartment.
Then you had people, specifically one person, that would come over and help you build it all over a cup of wine for you, and water or juice for him. After that, the two of you would just sit on the couch (that had been built the first round of IKEA purchases) and talk. He always talked about the wonders of life, how you were born at this time and it was like fate was finally being nice to him for once.
"I just," he started, closing his eyes and resting his head atop of yours, which had been resting on his shoulder while your legs went over his lap. "I just really, really need you in my life, Y/N. I... I love you."
That was the first time you'd ever said I love you to one another. It was eight months (almost) into a relationship that was slowly progressing, and that had started as a friendly gesture when he had been in Ohio and a mutual friend of yours had introduced you.
To say that you didn't miss it now, well that would be an understatement. You wanted everything back to the way it was, but it was too late. You had left, and he had probably moved on to better things, better places, better people.
The grip you had on your steering wheel had tightened in the time you were lost in your thoughts, and your subconscious had brought you to the one place you promised yourself you wouldn't go for fear of hurting the one love of your life. You had remembered him moving all about, never being able to stay at one house for long because of the fans that he had acquired through his job with YouTube.
So this house, this house was the one he lived in two years ago. You were almost relieved when there weren't any cars in the driveway, but that feeling was crushed by the person that opened the door – none other than Tyler, the aforementioned "mutual friend." Your hands and feet reacted before your mind and soon enough you were parking parallel to the curb and hopping out of your car.
Tyler watched as you stood and after mere seconds, recognition crossed his features and he was smiling from ear to ear. You raced to his arms, hugging him as tight as possible in complete silence. It was nice to be in the arms of your best friend again and to smell the fresh scent of pine that Tyler never seemed to shake.
"I can't believe you're here," he whispered, squeezing you a little more. "You're actually here," he laughed, pulling away with crooked glasses.
You smiled, your eyes slightly watering, and fixed his glasses. "I can't believe you guys still live here, even after two years."
"I know," he chuckled, drawing back and letting his hands rest on your hips, "stroke of luck, is my guess. But, uh, do you want me to let Mark know you're here? I mean, he isn't here right now but I can call him and let him know."
You looked down at your feet, biting your lip and sighing, "Yeah, yeah I guess. Just, uhm, can we go inside? I need to talk to you about something and I don't think out here is the ideal place to do it, y'know?"
He nodded, letting you go and making a grand, sweeping gesture in the direction of the door, "M'lady."
You laughed at Tyler's antics, glad to see him in such good spirits, and went in his pointed direction. No matter the pounding in your head, or the aching of your chest to be back somewhere that warmed your heart and reminded you of home, you still couldn't get past the fact that you had let yourself be drawn here, let your feet drive you... home.
An overwhelming urge to cry hit you when you walked into the house, being bombarded with the scent of your boys, computers, and the ever-present peach candle Tyler liked to have around (why was beyond you). Tyler walked in front of you and silently led you to the kitchen, giving you a couple seconds to prep yourself for the conversation coming.
Sitting down, you sighed and looked up at the man in front of you. it was obvious he hadn't cut his hair in a while, as it was covered by a beanie, and even then, there were curls of hair practically exploding from the knitted hat. Glasses covered his blue eyes, and it almost threw you into the era long before either of you made it to California with Mark.
"So," he asked, "what was it that you wanted to talk about?"
"It's about, well," you hesitated, fidgeting with your fingers, "it's about Mark. I'm worried about what he's gonna think about me... me being back."
Tyler smiled reassuringly, "I'm sure he'll love seeing you again."
That sentence, although meant to ease your worry, only concerned you more. What if he didn't love seeing you again? What if the past creeps up too fast? What if you break down and leave before Mark even gets here? What if you let him down again? What if, what if, what if?
You focused back on Tyler, who had pulled his phone out and called Mark, nodding along with whatever the man on the other side of the line was saying. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Oh, uh, the reason I called you? Well, I'll just say there's a surprise at home for you."
Of course, he didn't say it was you. Now it would either be even better or even fucking worse than it already was.
"You'll be home when? Five minutes? Okay. See you then," he hung up. Once more, the reassuring smile crossed his features and he suggested that the two of you catch up until Mark got home.
So, five minutes and two cups of water later, you were laughing with Tyler as you recounted the time you almost broke a piano with a vacuum, and the front door of the house was opening. You didn't hear it, so you just continued to giggle and drink your water as unheard, hesitant footsteps neared the kitchen.
You closed your eyes and took a breath, leaning back in the chair. But just as you did, a sharp intake, that was definitely not your own, scared you. Whipping around, you face the man you were so scared you had let down, so scared wouldn't even want to associate himself with you anymore.
"Mark," you whispered, standing up from your chair. You could feel Tyler's eyes on you, but it paled in comparison to the heavy, unreadable stare you were getting from Mark. His brown, almond-shaped eyes were wide and lined with tears; his black hair was tousled in just the perfect way, and it was obvious he kept himself in shape with the stature that he had.
His muscles were tensed and his mouth was open, just slightly, and you couldn't tell if you wanted to run into his arms or run out of his house.
But then he smiled, "Y/N." Sighing, he closed the space between you and wrapped you in his arms, shoving his face in the space between your shoulder and neck and taking a deep breath. "You're actually," he whispered, pulling back and looking at you with red, watery eyes (that practically mirrored your own at this point), "you're actually here, you're home."
You couldn't form words, couldn't get them past the knot in your throat, so you just stuck to nodding with a wide smile. Everything in your body was telling you, urging you to kiss him, to restore something that was more than just put on hold.
Mark was looking at you expectantly, like he wanted to do something, or for you to do something, but he was scared. "Uh," he said, a little louder than before, "let's go to my... to my room."
His eyes darted to Tyler, who already seemed to understand as he was up and out of his seat, headed toward the front door. "I'm gonna go get some stuff for... stuff," he tried to play off smoothly, yet he failed.
You smiled light-heartedly and nodded, following Mark up the stairs and to his bedroom. There was a tense silence between you, and you knew that he was thinking of something to say, something to start off a conversation due for the last two years.
"So," you started with the most casual choice of words – well, word, "hi, Mark."
You were both standing in the bedroom at that point, and his only response was a sigh, closing the door, and thumping his forehead against it.
"Uhm," you stood awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, how─"
"Y/N, I really need to ask you something," he didn't turn around, speaking in low tones in the direction of the door, but toward you at the same time.
"Yeah?"
"Can I just─ can I just kiss you? Please?" When he actually turned around, his brown eyes looked so lost, so innocent. He meant no harm in the question; it sounded like he was desperate, to be quite honest. Desperate to kiss you, hold you, have you again.
You couldn't speak. Your heart had stopped in your chest and your arms had been consumed by goosebumps. That was what you wanted, too, truly. You wanted to feel his lips again, to know that he was real and that this wasn't another trick your mind played because that would just be cruel. Swallowing around the knot in your throat, you whispered, "Yeah, yeah okay."
His approaching steps were slow, careful like he was terrified that you would run away if he moved too quickly in your direction. Your arms fell from your chest, and a sigh left your lips. Mark visibly relaxed when he was directly in front of you, and his hands instinctively fell onto your hips.
Looking around his face, you placed your hands against his cheeks and with a small smile, pressed your lips together. It felt like things were fixing themselves, albeit slow, and you knew that with time, everything would go back to how it was.
The kiss itself started out soft, a careful liplock so as to make sure that the other person was okay with everything that was happening. But then, then you and Mark both needed more. You wanted and needed more than a soft peck, so you went for it. You let your hands slide, fingers of one tangling into the hair on the crown of his head and the other gripping his shoulder.
His thumbs had started moving in small circles, enticing you to get closer, and being successful at doing so. For a few more moments, the only things making their ways to your ears were the deep inhales of you and Mark and the slight crumpling of cloth.
Then, when you knew things were going to go too far to go back, you pulled away, something Mark wasn't quite ready for as he chased your lips until your thumb pressed against his own. He stuck with placing his forehead against yours and whispering, "Fuck I missed you."
"I missed you, too, Mark," you smiled. "But we can't take it too fast."
He was silent for a few seconds before opening his eyes and nodding, "Yeah, yeah you're probably right. But I still... I still─ fuck. I still love you."
Your eyes darted between his own, and your mouth fell open in just the slightest bit. You didn't know how to feel about that; of course, you felt the same way, but you didn't expect him to say it so soon after seeing you for the first time in two years. Realizing rather quickly that your silence was probably weighing on him, you nodded, "I love you, too. God, I love you."
"Y/N," Mark smiled, moving his hands up to his face, "I think it's time we actually catch up. I need to know how your life has been these past two years."
"Yeah, yeah okay, let's do that," you laughed, leaning forward and kissing him once more, "where, though?"
He hummed in thought for a second, "How about that one café down the road? It was the place we liked the most."
"Hell yeah," you laughed, grabbing Mark's hand and following him out of his bedroom.
You were glad to be back, glad to have him back.