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“And this is where I had my first picnic as a kid!”
Porco couldn't help but smile as Marco dragged him off the trail, underneath the shade of some pine trees. Every day after school, the two of them went on a walk at the park. Today, Marco had made it his personal mission to tell him all the things he loved about it.
He’d already shown him the playground he had been having his birthday party ever since he was a kid, and the track he learned how to ride a bike on. The two of them had walked past these places a thousand times before, and though Porco already had an idea of their significance in Marco’s childhood, it was the first time he was hearing about it in detail.
“I don’t remember much of it though,” Marco continued. “But my parents told me I kept feeding my food to the ants.”
Porco chuckled. “That sounds like you.”
He felt a squeeze in his hand as Marco turned to look at him. “Yeah?”
He almost looked like an angel; his face hit by the sun through the pine trees’ needles in just the right way, eyes glistening with curiosity, a faint smile starting to appear on his lips. It was in moments like these that Porco struggled to believe he was dating the man in front of him the most. He found himself squeezing Marco’s hand back without realising at first, too taken aback by his clumsy elegance to do anything.
“You should tell me things too,” Marco said, breaking the silence.
Porco raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Marco shrugged. “I’ve been talking about what I like all this time. Don’t you have any stories to share? I wanna know.”
“Marco, I don’t live here,” Porco said. He and his brother lived in Liberio, taking the train every morning to come to school. Even though he’d learned most parts of Paradis like the back of his hand, the park included, he hadn’t grown up there. He couldn’t talk about it the same way Marco did.
“But you and the others hang out here all the time.”
“Sure,” said Porco, “but it’s nothing you don’t know about already.” Every Friday night, some of the guys met up for crepes and hung out in the park afterwards. Marco was usually busy those days, so he didn't join them that often, but every time he did, Porco somehow managed to embarrass himself. He still remembered the time he fell inside the fountain trying to do a trick, and Marco wasn't exactly helping him forget either. He always giggled when they walked past the fountain, and all Porco could do was grumble and bear it.
But he still loved him; even though he knew about all the embarrassing things he did, even though he teased him, Porco still loved him, so much he sometimes felt like his heart was going to explode.
“Hey,” he said, giving the back of Marco's hand a gentle rub with his thumb. “Tell me more about that picnic.”
Despite Marco's previous concern, his eyes immediately lit up at the request. As cute as Porco found Marco's expression when he was deep in thought—mouth slightly open, eyebrows furrowed, staring at nothing—he liked seeing him excited even more.
And so he listened. Marco told him all that he remembered, which mostly came from family pictures, one of which Porco had actually seen on his fireplace before, and when he ran out of things to say, he told him about their next picnic, and the one after that. He was smiling the whole time, and Porco didn't miss the way he kicked the ground with the tip of his shoes, as if he couldn't keep all the energy in his body. He didn't know how long he was talking for, but he didn't care. Porco wanted to know everything about Marco. Anything he'd give him.
Somewhere in the middle of Marco's story, they started walking again. Their hands were swinging back and forth, and it almost felt like a game of who could pull the other higher.
“Oh, this—!” Marco said, pointing at an old-looking faucet. “Jean lost a tooth here.”
Porco chuckled. “I'm assuming there isn't a single place here that doesn't have a story behind it?”
Marco shook his head, laughing softly. “Something like that,” he said, eyes still pinned on the faucet. “But I do have a favorite.”
Now that was certainly intriguing.
“Let me guess,” Porco said. “Jaeger eating your mud-cakes when you were eight.”
Marco broke into giggles, and for a brief moment, Porco wondered if the reason he'd made such a silly guess was just to hear the sound of his laughter again.
“Could be, but no,” Marco said. To Porco's surprise, he stopped walking abruptly, and turned to face him, taking both of his hands in his. “It's not really a single story…”
That didn't add up. “But you just said—”
“I know, I know,” Marco interrupted, the smile never leaving his face. “But they're all related.”
“And are you planning on telling me, smartass?”
“Can't you guess?”
Porco rolled his eyes. “My first guess wasn't right.”
“Come on, I'll give you a hint,” Marco insisted, and Porco sighed, finally giving in. “It's happening right now.”
Porco only got even more confused. “Are you proposing to me?”
Marco chuckled, but shook his head. “Maybe after high school,” he said, and for a split second, Porco forgot he was teasing and let himself look forward to it. “Come on, one more guess.”
“I'll pass,” Porco said, but it came out sounding sweet. “I like it when you explain things to me anyway. You get all excited and stuff.”
Marco looked away for a brief second, and Porco felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy upon realising he was the one that did this to him.
“I like being here with you.”
It took everything in him not to bury himself in Marco's shoulder to rub the embarrassment off his face, but Marco wasn't looking at him yet.
“I like our walks,” he continued, and Porco was surprised his ears still worked, since he could feel them practically burning off. “And I like holding your hand, and telling you about things you probably don't care about, and—”
“I do care,” Porco interrupted, and it was only then Marco glanced at him again. They were quiet for a bit, before Porco realised he had his full attention. “And I like it too, you know—all of it,” he continued. “The walks, the stories, the joking around… I like making you laugh.”
“I like making you laugh,” Marco said back almost immediately. “And blush.”
“I do not blush.”
“You're blushing right now,” Marco said, and Porco hated to admit that his words made his face heat up.
“It's the sun…”
Marco giggled. “I like the sun, then. You look adorable.”
“Oh, don't you talk to me about adorable, Mr ‘I’ll give myself wrinkles in my teens because of how often I smile’, because—”
“I love you so much.”
Porco couldn't help but sigh at Marco's words, slowly making his way into his chest, until he could physically feel his own heartbeat in it. He'd never get tired of hearing it—ever—but that didn't mean he was used to it. Even though Marco said it all the time. Even though he truly believed it.
Without thinking, Porco let go of Marco's hand, grabbed him by the shirt, and kissed him.
And Marco kissed back immediately, as if he wasn't surprised—which Porco knew he was, because his other hand had slightly flinched before relaxing in his again—holding Porco by the waist. They kissed for a long time, but it wasn't heated. If anything, Porco almost found himself smiling in it, before realising Marco was doing the same. In the end, they broke apart so that Marco could laugh.
“You're such a dork, you know?” Porco pulled him down again for a quicker kiss, not letting him say whatever snarky comment he had prepared in his head. “And I love you,” he added when they pulled away.
“I love you,” Marco said. “And I want boba.”
Porco blinked. “What?”
“Boba,” Marco repeated, kissing Porco's forehead. “Let's go get some.”
“You—” Porco began, but stopped himself. “This is such a you thing to say, I can't even be mad at you.”
Marco chuckled. “Why would you be mad at me? It's my treat.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Bodt?”
“I thought this was already a date,” Marco said, bringing his hand to cup Porco's cheek. “Am I wrong?”
Porco placed his hand on top of Marco's, slightly turning his face to the side so he could press a kiss on his palm. “You're perfect.”
This time, it was Marco who leaned in to kiss him. Porco let go of both his hands, wrapping his arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Unlike the other time, he wasn't stopped—so he kept kissing him, because he could, and because he wanted to, until nothing else mattered.
… except it did.
Porco forced himself to put a halt to the kiss, putting the slightest bit of distance between them. “Let's go get your boba.”
As if their roles had been reversed, Marco leaned in again to peck his lips. “You're actually craving it now, aren't you?”
“Shut up,” Porco said, but didn't deny it.
Soon enough, he found himself being dragged across the park by Marco again.