#superm mark

Baby, Mark drawls, his doe eyes sleepy and his lips in a pout, grabbing at the sheets as you try to pull it away from him. His movements are sluggish and drowsy, but he's so content. The curtains are open and it’s already bright out, but he's so warm and he's drowning in your scent, he wants nothing more than to be here forever;

Lover, he whispers, when you trip over the word “friend” as you introduce him, and it makes him smile. Lover was eternal. Too strong, he thought, to be uttered to others, but that was what you were — his gentle, beautiful lover — and he hadn't missed the way the word brought color to your cheeks;

Cutie, he laughs as you fail to learn another choreography, huffing about a hurting back and accusing Mark of being too perfect. The word slips from his mouth and makes you hit him playfully. What kind of nickname is that? He ruffles your hair as you try to slip away from his reach, but whatever you did right now, Mark found that it was the most adorable thing in the world;

Darling, he says absently, going through his phone. You freeze and answer him anyway but Mark doesn’t miss the pause. Even though he didn’t do it on purpose, he enjoyed that, the way he could still make you stop in your tracks even all these years later;

What we’re not gonna do is forget that this absolutely mouthwatering performance exists

Mark can’t take his eyes off you. 

He can’t believe he got this lucky, he can’t believe you’re this beautiful, this ethereal; his stare burns through you and pins you in place. His gaze is so feral and yet so soft for you — it makes you shiver. His bright eyes drink you in like you’re the only thing that ever mattered in this world, the only thing that mattered to him; he wants to be the only one for you, now, and forever. 

He walks up to the edge of the bed and sits at your feet, reaching out to massage them softly. You cock your head in mild surprise, but don’t question it  — this was one of those days when Mark liked to take his time, worshiping every inch of what belonged to him. His smile mirrors yours as he pulls himself further up the bed, settling between your legs and running his hands down your thighs. 

“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, leaning forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “How am I supposed to know anything when you look like this?”

You run your fingers along the nape of his neck. Mark lets out a long sigh and you absently wonder how tired he was. Your hands run along his toned arms, gently coaxing him closer to you. Mark pulled away slowly, his eyes taking in every tiny detail of your face as if memorizing it, and it embarrassed you somehow.  He smiled when he saw the color tinting your cheeks, taking it as an excuse to press feather light kisses on your face.

“You’re gonna make me forget who I am,” Mark mumbled, still grinning, “Are you going to take responsibility for who I’m about to become?”

“Who do you want to be?”

Mark scoffs at your words. 

I come in prayer to the music universe that Lucas will be included in the comeback.  I don’t care how many lights I see or whose favorite color I see... I want a final answer.  Galaxy handle it.  Amen.