AN: I know I haven't really given much background to the relationship between Mark and Jackson with how it all started and normally I do but I didn't feel it was that relevant for this. I was just listening to music and wanted to write something and this came up. It's more about how Mark feels about Jackson and just his late night thoughts. I do vaguely explain how they got together and I hope that's enough. It's basically meant to be set as if they're in an established relationship and loosely based around season 8, as in at the time of the fic season 8 stuff is happening. Bleh, I think I'm babbling. Just read it and let me know what you think. Thanks!
Ps: I know I stole the 'Best. Date. Ever' idea from Cristina and Burke's date but to be honest, that'd be a pretty sweet date for any surgeon.
Late Night Thoughts
Mark watched as Jackson's chest slowly rose up, lingered for a few moments before sinking back down. That soft exhale comforted him in a way he wasn't sure he could explain. He lay there, watching the one man he loved more than life itself and listened to him breathing, watching his chest rise and fall. Mark was on his side, propped up on one elbow whilst Jackson lay on his back next to him. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room and he was able to see a lot of Jackson. They were in bed together; their nights off having been the same, which rarely happened, and they had taken full advantage. The covers pooled around their waists, Jackson's toned and rippling muscles on show for Mark to admire.
He loved just staring at this man and he'd do it in the bright light of day if he didn't blush like a little schoolgirl every time Jackson caught him. Mark would find himself watching Jackson whilst he watched the TV and sooner or later Jackson would turn his head and catch him. He'd grin a knowing grin, letting Mark know that he knew he'd been watching him and a hot flush would spread from his neck up to his cheeks and he'd look away whilst Jackson laughed. Then there was the annoying presence of clothes that hindered his viewing to just Jackson's face and maybe those muscular arms if he was lucky and Jackson was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt or was in his scrubs. He wasn't complaining about just looking at Jackson's face either, the man was beautiful in more ways than Mark had words for. But sometimes he just wanted to sit and admire his chest or those prominent hips bones that Mark loved to nibble and he couldn't do that because, no matter how good looking you were, walking around at your job shirtless was a big no-no. So he took what he could and admired when he could and that was at night.
They both slept naked, both feeling uncomfortable wearing anything under the thick covers which by morning were nearly always found tangled at the bottom of the bed. Jackson always fell asleep before Mark, having the ability to sleep pretty much anywhere he wanted. Mark on the other hand always took a little longer and in this time he'd lie there and just watch Jackson sleeping, lying there and loving him with all his might. His eyes would roam up and down that body and each night he'd find a different place for them to rest upon, admiring Jackson's bicep one night and then the next he'd find himself staring at the man's collarbone and dying to just lean over and nip at the ridge of bone poking up. This night however he was taking in everything he could see and loving every piece of it. He let his eyes slide over Jackson's features, lighting on his cheekbones before moving to those full lips that he put to use so expertly in many different ways and ripped the groans and whimpers out of him. That strong jawline was next, enjoying the look of the stubble that lay there. He knew exactly how that stubble felt rubbed against his skin, knew how coarse and rough it was which was part of the fun. He licked his lips as his eyes wandered down Jackson's neck, knowing just how soft the skin that lay there was. The swell of shoulder, the ridge that was his collarbone, the hard pectoral muscles that were the perfect shape, the defined and toned stomach with the trail of hair leading downwards and disappearing under the covers. It was all so familiar to him; he knew every plane of Jackson's body. Mark could close his eyes and see every inch of his body perfectly detailed.
He loved the way the other man looked and the way he moved either underneath or on top of him. Their bodies slotted perfectly together, limbs tangling up and mouths melting into one when they kissed. They both knew exactly what to do to make the other cry out, shudder with pleasure or moan with need. Mark thought back to earlier that night and how amazing it had been. Jackson had made love to him with a slow and gentle pace, entering him without pain and filling him up so completely. They'd lain together and took it slow, muttering "I love you" and "you're so beautiful" every so often. After what seemed an eternity they had orgasmed at the same time, both crying out the other's name and sealing their lips with a kiss. They'd tumbled into bed shortly after and Jackson had dropped off a couple of minutes later.
Jackson's body had always turned him on, turned him on to the point where he'd have to physically restrain himself from jumping the surgeons bones when it was inappropriate. He smiled to himself as he remembered when Jackson had been tending to a post-op patient, a couple of weeks before they'd even gotten together, leaning over to check her dressings and his scrub t-shirt had risen up an inch or so baring a small amount of flesh and some of his hip. Mark had been transfixed, almost to the point of drooling and he'd forced himself to leave the room. He also remembered how he'd half ran to the nearest bathroom, rushing into one of the stalls and pleasuring himself to the memory of that flash of hot caramel skin. He'd came a few minutes later, hard and heavy. Crying out and moaning to himself, thankful the bathroom had remained empty.
He'd started to notice little things and before he knew it he'd fallen for the Resident and everything was upside down. He'd chased him for a little while and Jackson, taking only a short time to notice Mark's interest, had played along playing hard to get but soon enough he'd given in. Their first time had been hot and rough, quick and dirty in one of the on-call rooms, fearful that someone would walk in and catch them together. From there on their relationship had grown and become stronger with Jackson now practically living with Mark. If he wasn't studying they were spending time together which mostly meant Jackson would ask Mark to help him study but they did have their pleasures. Watching a film together, going out for something to eat or drink and it was those moments Mark enjoyed the most. Those were the moments they felt like an actual honest-to-God normal couple by normal people's standards. He felt like a normal person at these times, not some gifted surgeon who was pretty damn amazing with his hands and saved lives on a daily basis and Jackson was his boyfriend. They were two ordinary people who went out and enjoyed each other's company although they did have their moments.
For example he didn't know many couples, non-surgical couples anyway, that sat through hours of surgery tapes and called them dates. Mark's smile grew wider as he remembered what they both called 'Best. Date. Ever." They'd only been 'offically' together for a month or so and he'd taken Jackson to a pretty posh restaurant, wanting to impress the younger man but he'd only looked uncomfortable. The night had been slowly going downhill until a woman a couple of tables over had cried out and collapsed. The whole restaurant had turned to watch as she twitched and shook, her husband screaming for help. Mark and Jackson didn't even think before they rushed over and helped the woman, one of them shouting for an ambulance whilst the other checked her breathing and chest. It turned out she was having a seizure and the both of them knew exactly what to do. After what seemed like hours had passed the ambulance arrived and carted the woman and the two of them off to the hospital. Derek had met them in the ER where they'd found out she had a small brain tumor and she was rushed to surgery, both of them scrubbing in and after about 7 hours they'd emerged, having saved her life and pretty damn happy about it. After they had cleaned themselves up Jackson had leapt forwards and held him, pressing his lips to Mark's who quickly opened up and let Jackson in. From then on things had been different and perfect.
He was still Jackson's mentor however and in the hospital he was his superior. He had the final say and he was the one who had to keep the Resident in check. They had decided early on that they would keep their personal life and work life separate, knowing what it could do to some relationships and thankfully it was working out for them. The whole hospital knew they were dating, Mark told anyone who would listen and he had a feeling Derek was getting a bit bored of hearing just how perfect Jackson was but he couldn't help it. He was in love and he wanted to show it.
For the first time he was happy, truly and utterly happy. His past was filled with meaningless relationships and one-night stands that hadn't meant a single thing but with Jackson it was different. Everything they did was so full of love and there was emotion involved. Mark had thought he'd hate anything like that, anything like this but he'd found that this was so much better. The only other times he'd been close to this had been Addison and Lexie. He'd loved both of those women and in a way he still did and always would. But it wasn't the sort of love he and Jackson shared. Addison had been fiery and passionate but things had fallen apart and it was never going to work. Lexie had been great fun and she was one of the sweetest, most caring people he knew but there'd been something about her that just wasn't right for him. She had a vulnerability that he couldn't handle and there had been the way she had abandoned him when Sloan had come into the picture.
Mark sighed as he wondered how different it would have been if he'd noticed Jackson earlier, chased after him a lot sooner and he mourned the time wasted but he pushed that thought aside before it could take root. He knew that if he'd done things differently, done a single differently, then there would be a chance that he wouldn't be lying here right now with this man and he didn't even want to entertain that thought.
He tensed as Jackson moaned in his sleep, shifting a little and kicking his legs. Mark hoped that one of his episodes wasn't going to happen, not tonight but he wanted to be prepared in case something happened.
Jackson still screamed in his sleep occasionally. It happened once or twice a month and each time Mark would jump awake, his heart in his throat as he fought off the sleepy confusion and focused on calming him. He'd wrap his arms around him and gently wake him up. Jackson would struggle for a minute or so until Mark's words finally pierced the horrors he dreamt of and he'd lie there, breathing heavily and crying silently for Reed and Charles, whilst curled up protectively against Mark. They never spoke when this happened, just waited until the episode was over. Jackson would always fall back asleep first and Mark would lie there watching him for a little bit until his own exhaustion took over him. Even now he still felt guilty over their deaths and how he had lived, still had flashbacks to that day. They had spoken of his dreams a couple of times and Jackson said he'd see the gunman, Mr Clarke, standing in the OR and pointing that gun at him. The barrel, he'd said, looked like a huge black tunnel that lead to oblivion. Apparently those were the ordinary dreams to, the others being too horrible to describe.
Mark had pushed for details once, thinking it'd help to get the dreams off his chest. Jackson had been reluctant at first but he'd badgered him until he'd given up. He spoke in a flat monotone that sent a shiver down Mark's spine as he recounted the dream. He'd been standing in the OR, Yang operating on Derek when Clarke had appeared. He'd shot Yang in the head without even speaking, her body slumping over Derek's before falling to the floor. He'd then shot one of the nurses before turning the gun on Jackson, shooting him in the chest. He'd felt his own body cave in, the bones shattering and blood pouring from him. His heart had stuttered before speeding up and pumping the blood out of him as if it was in league with Clarke and wanted to kill him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak or move. He could only stare upwards at the ceiling where Clarke's head then came into view along with that long black tunnel that was the barrel of the gun. He'd thankfully blacked out before the trigger could be pulled however and he'd woken up. Mark had never asked Jackson to recount his dreams again.
They'd talked about therapy for Jackson but he'd refused, claiming that he was okay and they were only bad dreams, really bad, but just dreams and Mark believed that. Sort of.
They were only bad dreams and in the end they both only lost an hour of sleep, two at the most whenever it happened. It was the day after that worried Mark. Jackson would be distracted during work, making one or two mistakes and so far he hadn't fucked up with a patient which Mark was thankful for and if he was being honest, he didn't think it would ever get that bad but on those days he'd always keep a closer eye on him and if he was too busy he would bribe Little Grey or Kepner to keep an eye on him. Jackson was always distant with him on those days too, short and direct. More often than not Jackson would go home alone after work, but sometimes Mark would convince him to spend the night at his and he'd end up cooking for the both of them but Jackson would only push his food around his plate, hardly speaking at all. These were the things that worried him, scared him even. He was terrified that Jackson would have one of these days and just run. Just run away from his job, from the hospital and from him and if that happened he wasn't sure what he'd do. Go crazy; break down, something equally dramatic.
Jackson had reassured him more times than he knew that he wasn't going anywhere and Mark believed him but in the dark gloom of night those fears came back tenfold. Another moan made him tense up and Jackson rolled over on to his side. He stared at the muscular planes of Jackson's back, noting the goose bumps that covered his body. Mark decided to shuffle forwards, conforming his body to Jackson's shape and pressing right up against him. He reached downwards and grabbed the covers, pulling them up to their shoulders. His hand then snaked over Jackson's hip, up his belly and on to his chest where he could feel the steady beat of his heart.
Mark knew that he'd do anything to protect Jackson but he also knew he couldn't fight off bad dreams. He could however, hold the man he loved and if he woke up screaming he'd cuddle him until he felt better again. Jackson was the one he wanted, he was the one he wanted to spend forever with and he'd give anything and everything for that to happen. Deep down he was 99.9% sure Jackson wasn't going anywhere and that comforted him. He loved him, loved him so much it would probably be a little scary if he thought about it too much, but he didn't which was good. As these thoughts ran through his head Jackson pressed back against him and brought his hand up to Mark's, slipping his fingers between Mark's and holding him.
"Love you." He whispered, his voice barely a sleepy mumble.
"Love you too." Mark answered back before closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet scent of the other man, that individual smell following him down into his dreams.