Second Chapter/Prompt Of My Challenge. Yay! So Sorry If Mark Seems Out Of Character In This Chapter Thingy. It Seemed Like Something Cute And Cuddly And Warm And Fuzzy (Don't Mind Me, Lots Of Painkillers From Surgery). Anyways! This Chapter Has A Little Bit Of Language, But Nothing Too Bad. Sorry it's kind of short. I promise the next one will be longer. I love you guys!

002. Back Alley

It was hours after Mark and Derek were at the bar, and Mark was lying on his back in his bed, just staring up at the ceiling. Though he was tired as hell, Mark just couldn't sleep. Not even with the amount of alcohol he consumed. Not after what happened hours earlier. Not after Mark was so close to admitting to his best friend that he loved him, in more ways then one. It was scary.

After Mark dropped the subject neither one of them brought it up. Mark and Derek sat there talking about other things. The hospital, patients, Meredith, Lexie, things like that. In actuality, Mark was pretty sure that Derek forgot the whole thing. Which was good. Mark didn't want the subject to be brought up again. And now that he wasn't trying to build up courage, Mark was taking it easy on the drinks. Pretty soon, it was last call and Mark got up, staggering a little.

It wasn't until he was outside that he really felt sick. Ducking behind the bar, Mark got sick, leaning against the wall of the back alley. After a few minutes, Mark heard someone call out his name. Unable to reply (due to the fact that Mark was getting sick again), Mark just looked out of the corner of his eye. At the end of the alley was Derek, a concerned look on his face. Mark looked away. It was embarrassing enough to tell Derek that he was falling for a guy, but it was down-right humiliating that Derek had to see him throwing up because of too much beer. Derek just stood off to the side of Mark and waited.

"Give me your keys," Derek said, extending his hand.

"I'm fine," Mark said, wiping his mouth off.

"You're in no condition to drive. Give me your keys," Derek demanded. Reluctantly Mark gave his friend his keys. This wasn't the first time that Derek had to drive him home because he was drunk, but for some reason, this time seemed worse then the others. "Tell me who it is," Derek said, blocking Mark's way out of the alley.

"What?" Mark said, taken completely by shock. He thought that this subject had been buried a few hours ago.

"I'm not driving you home until you tell me who it is," Derek said, dangling his friend's keys in his face.

"Screw you. I'll take the bus," Mark said, shoving past Derek.

"You hate public transportation," Derek said. Damn it, Mark could actually hear the smirk in his friend's voice.

"I'm not going to tell you," Mark said, not turning to his friend. Why was it that even when they were fighting, Derek ended up being cute? Damn it! Did he just think that his best friend, his guy best friend was cute? Mark was freakin' screwed.

"Then you can either sleep in the on-call room at the hospital or find another way of getting home," Derek said simply, pocketing Mark's keys. He started to walk past Mark when he felt Mark's hand on his wrist.

"Give me my keys. I'm going home," Mark said, anger bubbling to the surface.

"Tell me who it is. I'll drive you home," Derek replied, keeping a smile on his face. He was worried about Mark. He had never seen his friend like this.

"Give me my god damn keys Derek," Mark spat through clenched teeth.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Derek asked, not joking anymore. He really was curious as to why Mark wouldn't just tell him.

Mark looked down at the ground and sighed. He let go of Derek's hand. "I'm going to sleep in the on-call room. Give me my keys back tomorrow, understand?" Mark said in a defeated voice.

"Hey, come on, I'll drive you home. No questions asked. Nothing, alright?" Derek sympathetically said. Mark nodded and followed Derek to his car. Sitting down in the passenger seat, Mark sighed again.

"I want to tell you Derek. I want to tell you who I've fallen for, but I can't. Not like this," Mark said simply. He wasn't too sure if he wasn't ever going to be able to tell Derek, but he was sure that now wasn't the time.

"You know, it's okay to tell me. I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything," Derek said, a smile appearing on his lips. Mark scoffed. It was what Mark did. Whenever things got mushy and too personal, Mark would just scoff and change the subject. But Derek wasn't going to let him off that easy. "Don't change the subject. I mean it Mark, you can tell me."

"You're an idiot. Can't you tell that it's because you're my best friend I can't tell you?" Mark said, folding his arms and looking out the window. "Look, I'll tell you, but on my terms. When you're not holding my keys hostage."

The rest of the car ride pasted in silence. Mark stared out the window, his emotions churning inside of him. This was his chance. Derek was giving him his chance. And, just like typical Mark, he was blowing it all away. He was giving up before he even tried. As they pulled up to the apartment, Mark couldn't be anymore excited. It was the first time that he was actually happy at the idea of going up to an empty apartment. It made things easier for him. He didn't have to explain why he wanted to be left alone, and he didn't have to explain why he was so drunk.

Getting out of the car, Mark took his first few staggering steps towards the door of his apartment. He didn't want to spend anymore time with Derek that night than he had too. Too bad that even walking in a zig-zag line was impossible for Mark at the moment. Before Mark could even stager two feet, Derek was there, supporting Mark. If it wasn't for the fact that the alcohol was finally settling in Mark's brain, Mark would be enjoying himself. The man he loved had his arm around his waist. He had his arm around Derek's shoulder. It was perfect. Minus the alcohol induced stupor.

How they managed to climb the stairs, Mark would never knew. But there they were. Standing in front of his apartment. Now was his final chance before they parted ways. Mark leaned in towards Derek a little and said with a slight slur, "Derek…the guy I've fallen for…" Mark still couldn't bring himself to do it though. It was too painful. To embarrassing.

"Wait. I need to tell you something first," Derek said. God. He was looking at him with that look. That classic 'McDreamy' look. No wonder he earned that nickname. It suited him.

Mark gulped. "What is it?" he asked in barely more than a whisper.

"Your breath stinks," Derek said, a small smirk on his face.

Yep. The pretty much crushed Mark. Crushed him like a bug. "Give me my damn keys," Mark snapped, the stupor suddenly gone. The minute that he had the door open, Mark slammed it in Derek's face. That was their moment! And McDreamy ruined it! McDreamy ruined it, and McSteamy let it get away.