Once inside, Jack turned to shut the bedroom door. He wasn't sure why – obviously they were alone in Mark's house – but he felt like being enclosed, truly alone with his friend. He noticed a soft light pulsing outward from Mark's dimmed computer monitor, and started to take in the details – or lack thereof – as his gaze wandered about the room. He walked slowly toward the computer desk, brushing his fingers lightly over the keyboard and mouse that were so often the focus of his friend's attention and physical touch. He imagined Mark sitting in the computer chair into the early morning hours, fighting sleep to spend just a couple more hours with… Me.
"Not tonight," Jack murmured.
"Hmm?" Mark questioned, approaching Jack.
"I said, not tonight. You don't have to sit in this chair. You don't have to avoid getting in bed. You can let it go. I'm here."
Jack smiled up at Mark, then slowly wrapped his arms around Mark's waist, pulling him closer. He felt Mark's strong arms settle around him in a firm hug, felt Mark breathing deeply, warmly against his hair, his lips brushing momentarily against Jack's forehead.
"Listen," Jack said. "I'm going to go change and give you a minute to do the same. I want yeh to get comfortable and then wait fer me so I can come tuck you in, yeah?"
"Yeah," Mark mumbled into Jack's hair, happily, sleepily.
Jack forced himself to disengage, flashed Mark a smile, and walked across the hallway to the guest bedroom. He flipped on the light and ran his eyes once more over the neatly-made bed, the lonely end-table and lamp. He was acutely aware of the complete and utter lack of Mark in the room, which settled into his chest like a physical weight.
Nope. Not happening.
He changed quickly into a Wilford Warfstache t-shirt - a souvenir from one of the first conventions he'd attended with Mark and the rest of the gang - as well as a pair of long pajama pants featuring Finn and Jake, two of his favorite cartoon heroes. He quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face in the hallway bathroom, glancing momentarily at the embarrassing state of his bright green fringe in the bathroom mirror. Fuck it. He walked into the hallway, took two deep breaths, knocked quietly, and stepped back into Mark's bedroom.
Mark was standing across the room and paused mid-action as Jack entered. Mark had obviously just started to change his shirt; he held it awkwardly around his shoulders, his chest and midsection bare, his defined waistline disappearing into a pair of long pajama pants.
Oh my God, Jack screamed internally.
"Oh my God," Jack said out loud. "Hey, sorry, I can give yeh another minute- "
"No," Mark said. "Hey. Stay. It's fine."
Jack allowed his gaze to travel back to Mark's midsection, lingering over his tan skin and clearly defined muscles- features that were entirely foreign to Jack in such an intimate, personal setting. Jack searched his mind for some witty comment to lighten the mood, some way to play it cool, but he just stared. Gawked. Gaped.
Mark noticed the expression on Jack's face and smiled, looking at the floor as he pulled the shirt down to cover his waist.
"So?" Mark said quietly, looking up.
"So?" Jack asked, having completely lost his grip on the situation.
"Ready to tuck me in?"
Jack laughed nervously. "Right. Pillows."
"Pillows?" Mark questioned, eyebrows raised. "Have we moved on to the 'awkward nickname' phase of this relationship?" Relationship? What did I just say?
Jack giggled. "No. Pillows. As in, where are they? That bed is pathetic, Fischbach. Can't tuck you in without more pillows."
"Ah. Yeah. I think I have a couple." Mark rummaged in a closet for a moment and emerged with two additional pillows, which he placed on the bed.
Jack slowly closed the distance between them. He placed two pillows in a stack against Mark's headboard, and put the third on the other side of the bed. He pulled back the covers and told Mark, "Sit. But don't lay down yet."
Mark propped himself up in a sitting position against the pillows Jack had arranged. Jack pulled the blankets up, tucking them gently around Mark's waist. He felt Mark's breath against his bare arm and was suddenly aware of how close they were. He chanced a look in Mark's direction and found Mark gazing at him intently, his face only inches away. God, he looks so perfect. Mark must have guessed at what Jack was thinking. Jack watched as Mark's expression changed slightly, Mark biting down gently on the corner of his own lower lip.
Jack couldn't take it. He wanted to be… closer. He placed his hands firmly on Mark's chest, bracing himself as he swung one leg smoothly over Mark's lower half, settling firmly onto Mark's lap. Mark was normally taller than Jack, but in this position, Jack found himself hovering just above Mark's face. He could feel Mark's muscles contract under the thin fabric of his shirt.
"Is this ok?" Jack's voice sounded small.
"Uhm. Yes," Mark managed. He found Jack's hands with his own and squeezed. "But Jack," he murmured, "how- "
"Oh my God- "
"What?"
"Shut up- "
Jack's hands were moving, one along Mark's jawline, one behind Mark's head, tangled in his hair. He couldn't breathe. His face was burning. He might have been dying. He leaned forward-
Mark tilted his head backward-
Their lips pressed firmly together.
Jack felt Mark breathing, shifting, kissing him slowly. He felt Mark's hands travel toward the small of his back, pulling him in more closely. Jack leaned into Mark's warm body, moaning softly against Mark's mouth as he felt Mark's fingers pushing firmly along his spine, gently pulling at the hem of his shirt.
Jack found Mark's lower lip, picturing the way Mark had nibbled it nervously throughout the day, and gently bit down. He heard – felt – Mark gasp quietly; the gasp melted into a soft, low moan. Jack shivered at the vibration he felt from Mark's slightly-parted lips, at the quiet excitement in Mark's low voice. He pressed another firm kiss over Mark's mouth, as Mark's hands traveled underneath the hem of his shirt, hot against his bare skin-
"Oh," Jack breathed, his attention temporarily diverted from Mark's – Perfect – mouth. He opened his eyes and found Mark looking up at him with an entirely new expression on his face- incredibly serious, almost desperate. Mark breathed deeply and pulled Jack forward, resting his head near Jack's shoulder.
"Jack," he almost whispered.
"Mh?"
"Jack, I'm losing it. I think I am legitimately losing my mind. I can't even think. I- "
"Shh," Jack breathed into Mark's hair.
"No, Jack, listen," Mark started again. "Slow down for a minute."
"Oh," Jack said, going still. "Hey, sorry, are you alright? Is this ok?" Fuck. Too fast? Too far?
"No, I mean, yeah, it's good. It's… amazing. Just… breathe with me for a minute."
Jack felt Mark breathing deeply, attempting to calm himself, and he tried to do the same. He felt Mark's soft, thick hair between his fingers. He felt Mark's strong hands supporting his back. He felt Mark shifting underneath him… Underneath? Oh my God.
I'm in his lap, Jack thought.
"I'm in yer lap," Jack blurted, much more loudly than he had intended.
Mark chuckled. "Yeah, I noticed that too, believe it or not." Mark was pinned firmly beneath the sheets and blanket, but Jack could feel him shifting somewhat uncomfortably.
"I'll be honest, I did not think this through." Jack looked at his friend - Mark's eyes still wide, his cheeks still burning - and they both broke into a fit of laughter.
"That's ok," Mark finally replied. "I just… I wasn't sure if you knew… if you could feel… if it would freak you out..." His voice trailed off momentarily while Jack searched his face. "It's just… intense," he finally went on, "with you sitting there like that. I wasn't sure if you… if we… if we're ready for that. I'm sorry. Did I fuck this up?"
Jack was busy thinking about how gorgeous Mark looked. Flushed, breathless, so close… He shook his head.
"I don't see anything fucked up about any of this. Mark, this is good, right? And slowing down is good. Checking in is good."
"Ok, so let's check in," Mark continued, visibly relieved. "I know what comes next for me. Can I tell you?"
Jack smiled, hands in Mark's hair. He leaned down, his mouth barely brushing against Mark's neck, and whispered, "What d'you want, love?"
Mark shivered, a tiny moan escaping from his throat as the sensations – as Jack's words – fully registered.
What was I saying?
"Mm…" Mark swallowed. "I want to take that shirt off you. But, I can't. Not with you sitting in my lap like this. I can't think straight. I just… I don't want to lose my head."
Jack understood his meaning, but he couldn't resist- he brushed a slow, gentle kiss across the back of Mark's neck. Mark tried – failed – to stifle a moan, and tensed his arms around Jack. His mouth found Jack's collarbone, barely accessible under the thin cotton of his shirt. He kissed the skin firmly, almost roughly, using his teeth and tongue to pull at Jack, making his way up towards Jack's open mouth.
He was giving in. He was losing it. He kissed roughly at Jack, his tongue finding its way inside Jack's already open mouth.
Jack moaned, tensed, rocked his hips forward on top of Mark -
- And then Mark was moving, supporting Jack tightly as he pulled himself into a kneeling position – Lord, he's so strong – and finally rolling to his left, laying Jack down on the bed, Jack's head resting on the spare pillow, his body pinned tightly between Mark and the mattress.
Mark looked down at Jack, gasping, face on fire, trying to catch his breath. Jack was similarly lost - panting, lips swollen, hair tousled, eyes wild.
Fuck, Jack thought.
"Fuck," Mark groaned, in pleasure and frustration.
He summoned all of his strength, pulled his arms away Jack, and clumsily moved off of the bed, kneeling down on the floor beside Jack.
"Are we slowing down again?" Jack murmured, sounding slightly disoriented. He turned his head toward Mark, and Mark reached up to brush away some strands of hair that had fallen into Jack's face. Jack felt… hot. Mark enjoyed the calming sensation of Jack's warm breath against his arm, as he gently stroked at Jack's hair.
"Babe." Mark was trying to adjust his voice back to a normal pitch and volume. "That was… incredible. I never could have imagined how that would feel, and believe me, I've tried."
"Samesies," Jack said dreamily.
"But I think maybe we should… press pause for now." He hated the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. "I mean, I don't want to. Is that obvious? I could barely stop myself…"
"I know," Jack said, propping himself up to move slightly closer to Mark. Could he be any sexier? There had to be a limit…
"…And that's the point," Mark continued. "I think there will be a time and place for us to lose control… I hope there will be… I'm just not sure if we're there yet. I just… I need this to be right. If you had regrets, if you felt badly about this, if I did something…" Mark swallowed hard. "I would never forgive myself. You mean too much to me. Does any of that make sense?"
Jack turned his body toward the edge of the bed and wound one set of fingers through Mark's dark, messy hair. Slowly, gently, he pressed his lips to Mark's face, high on his cheekbone, close to his closed eyelid.
"Sleep on it, yeah? Like before?" Jack said quietly, with the slightest hint of his usual cheerfulness. "And maybe shirts on fer now?"
Mark looked back at him, his pulse slowing gradually under Jack's more gentle touch. Jack looked… happy. Mark reminded himself to breathe.
"You had no intention of just 'tucking me in,' did you?" he questioned Jack, smiling.
"Your guest room sucks, Mark." Jack scolded. "All the fun is in here."
Mark laughed, impressed with the way Jack could seamlessly weave the humor of their friendship into this very new, very different situation.
"Ok. I'm going to try to get back in bed now. I don't think I would make it through the night if you left anyway."
Jack took this in.
Mark started to stand. "BUT," he said, "you need to behave. We need to behave. I need you to help me stay… calm. Can you do that?"
Jack thought about this, and Mark could see the exhaustion creeping back onto his friend's face. "I have a plan," Jack finally yawned. He moved to the other side of the bed, propping himself up slightly on the two pillows. "I'm taking yer spot fer the night. Here." He hesitated, trying to edit the blatant lust from his tone, "Come here, now."
Mark crawled into the bed and moved toward Jack. "Here." Jack gestured toward his chest, to the space right over his heart. "Lay down. Just rest there."
Mark obeyed. He settled in with his arm draped firmly around Jack's waist, his face resting against the soft fabric of Jack's shirt. He lay still, listening for Jack's heartbeat… and felt Jack's racing pulse hammering away. Mark looked up.
"No," Jack said, a little too firmly. "Listen," he said, more softly, very aware of the way Mark's body was curved partially on top of his own, "I'm trying to behave. I just need to adjust. Just… breathe with me."
Mark laid down again, and found Jack's right hand with his left. He squeezed slowly and gently, then traced slow circles on the back of Jack's hand, breathing deeply, waiting for Jack's hammering pulse to slow. Gradually, Jack's heartbeat returned to a reasonable pace. Mark started to relax, pressing the length of his body closely against Jack. Jack stirred.
"I was supposed to help you sleep," he murmured.
"Mmm?"
"I was supposed to help yeh fall asleep, not keep you up half the night. Better luck next time."
Next time.
"Sleep is for the weak," Mark yawned, and Jack's head swam pleasantly as the familiar phrase washed over him.
"Mark?"
"Jack."
"I need a favor."
"Literally, anything," Mark breathed.
"If yeh wake up in the middle of the night…" Jack started. "…If yeh get to thinking and all this seems a bit… much…" he said.
"No, Jack- "
"Just don't leave me here. I mean, wake me up, or something', just… don't leave me here without letting me know," Jack finished.
Mark pulled Jack's right hand toward his face, kissed it softly, and slipped it gently underneath his cheek. "Never," he murmured.
Jack sighed, breathed. Drifted. Slept.
