#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴏʀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ; ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀ ❞ ◌ ꜰ.ᴏ.ᴡ.ʟ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Mark 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

「 ☆ 」 Yeah. Get Fenton and the kids out of here safely, then he can deal with Fenton completely hating him. Which he definitely will once he realizes that Mark was here on his own volition and not some innocent victim. But Mark shoves that fear away, it sinking down into the twisted knots of his stomach like a stone. Instead, he squeezes Mark’s hand in response, latching onto his presence like a lifeline for however long he has left.

Glancing at the hand on his shoulder, he swallows thickly, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest. But the warmth in his face is unmistakable, feathers puffing despite the situation. Is in the midst of fleeing from people who would probably kill them the best time to have an internal gay panic? No. Is he having one anyway? Of course he is. It wouldn’t be a reunion with Fenton if he didn’t get smacked in the face by how much he wants to kiss him. Not that Mark ever would without explicit permission… or risk asking permission for fear of Fenton thinking he’s a loser.

❝ Hate you? How could I possibly hate you? ❞ Mark says with a light laugh, free hand moving to comfortingly cup Fenton’s cheek before he can rethink it. ❝ You’re my best friend, Fents… and I’ve missed you so much. ❞ Arm wrapping around Fenton in as good a hug as he can manage while not letting go of Fenton’s hand, cheek presses against Fenton’s in a relieved nuzzle, ❝ You have nothing to be sorry about. You hear me? You’re literally the best and I couldn’t be happier that you’re here… ❞

Pulling away a smidge, Mark shrugs and adds with an awkward laugh, ❝ Well, m’kay— I wish you weren’t here right now because of all the danger. But you have no idea how much I missed hearing your voice… ❞ 「 ☆ 」

✩   「 @decanard 」   ✩  

ducktales-wco-oo​:

{ ☆ }   ❝  Not comforting, Fents…  ❞  Mark chimes to the initial response, grimacing at the thought and memory of instances where Fenton had been through worse. Giving Fenton’s hand a comforting squeeze, he looks around to ensure that the coast is clear before nodding his head in the direction of safety. Or- safer than they are right now. Which isn’t much to ask when there’s a literal battle to the either death or being-stuck-in-a-tiny-box going on.

Quickened steps as quiet as he can manage, he occasionally glances behind them at the mayhem, wanting to be certain no one is going to catch them by surprise. Heart hammering loud enough to be heard above the chaos, Fenton’s words still manage to cut through the overwhelming noise. Wincing at the desire for an explanation, he forces an awkward smile on his face when he looks at Fenton, meeting his silvery gaze with uneasy blue,  ❝  Heh— I dunno… She might be kinda miffed at us if we get too messed up. Y’know, after the whole ‘thank goodness you’re alright’ spiel.  ❞  He jokes in a hushed tone, not wanting to draw attention to them.

❝   As for what I’m doing here… Heh— That’s kiiiiiiinda a long story. Best saved for when we’re not running for our literal lives.  ❞  Hoping that Fenton will be deterred, he uses his free hand to playfully flick the stray strand of head-feathers bobbing in front of Fenton’s face, wanting to help ease the tension and distract from the pain,  ❝  ‘Sides, that’s not nearly as important as making sure you are spick-and-span instead of whatever the opposite of those words are. You’re the smart one, so you probs know…  ❞  

Smile softening into something more sincere after his playful tease, fondness shines through the worry,  ❝  It really is good to see ya, Fents. Even if the sitch could be better. Heh…  ❞  { ☆ }

Mark’s voice isn’t very loud but he can hear everything despite what’s going on around them. He could always zero in on his best friend’s voice through noise. It’s nice to know that hasn’t changed. He glances up when the other moves his headfeathers and a small smile shows on his beak. “Okay fine, the story can come later once we get you out of here safely and all the kids.” He ignores the part about himself. He wasn’t important in this grand scheme. 

When they stop in an empty room, Fenton holds on all the tighter to Mark’s hand. He’s afraid the other will let go. Possibly run and then how is he supposed to help him get away? Better to hold on tight. “I’ve missed you.”  He returns, putting his other hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I’ve really missed you and I’m sorry I couldn’t help you earlier than this. You must hate me.”