#mark pirc

I thought it through and had an idea, so I decided to go with it😁 They’re in their own little world back there.

(sfw text)

Mark had a job to do. He knew that. He had a job to do, and that job was not standing around staring longingly at a bent over Jure, who, in turn, was staring longingly at Kris striking poses for Vita.

It’s not even as if Mark’s starved for Jure’s attention. During their break Jure had first stolen his cap, cackling as he legged it until Mark had given in and set off in pursuit, much to Jure’s boisterous enjoyment. After that he’d had endless questions about the camera, questions Mark was fairly sure Jure knew the answers to already, yet he’d still been more than happy to give them.

Mark fidgeted with the buttons on his camera, none of which needed fidgeting with. He should be chasing objects, motions, lights, and those objects shouldn’t primarily be Jure’s hips, the motions shouldn’t only be those hips gently swaying from side to side and the lights shouldn’t just be the way the sun’s rays hit the curve of his a—

No.

Focus on the job at hand.

Speaking of hands, Mark glanced over Jure’s shoulder and saw a phone resting in his. Realizing he’d been looking down at the screen this whole time and not at Kris, Mark contemplated simply walking over to casually lean on the half wall next to him and strike up a conversation. Literally any topic. Jure was a chatty guy. He’d done that hundreds of times in the past, why was today so difficult?

Flashes from Vita’s camera pointed at Kris contrasted the inactivity of his own. He could either stay frozen in place or approach the leather-clad drummer.

Should he?

“Hey!” Jure turned, waving him over. Eyes rimmed by smudged black eyeliner lit up when Mark returned his smile. “Wanna share a smoke?”