Chapter 28
Ethan
Ethan woke first, the plush bed creaking under him as he stirred. Mark’s body draped over him, heavy and warm, his arm slung across his chest, holding him tight. The sheets tangled around them, warm from their night together, and the air smelled of their mingled scents, his woodsy soap blending with Mark’s cedar cologne, thick and comforting. Morning light slipped through the curtains, soft and golden, painting Mark’s red pajamas and his bare skin in a gentle glow.
Sometime in the night, he’d kicked off his pants, leaving him naked in Mark’s arms. Mark’s erection pressed into his hip, firm and noticeable through the thin fabric, stirring heat low in his belly. He smiled, leaning into it, savoring the solid weight of Mark against him. His chest swelled, happiness bubbling up, bright and uncontainable.
Mark stirred, his breath hitching as he woke. His hips shifted, pushing into him more, an arousal evident in the press of his body. He grinned, grinding back gently, feeling Mark harden further against him. Mark’s eyes fluttered open, dark and warm, and he turned over, catching his lips in a slow, sleepy kiss.
“Good morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep, kissing him deeper. Mark smiled against his mouth, kissing back with a soft hum.
“Morning. You, uh, seem happy to see me.” Ethan laughed, the sound light and free, and pressed closer, their bare chests brushing. “Can’t believe this is happening,” he said, his hand sliding to Mark’s shoulder. “Waking up in your arms? Feels like a damn dream.”
Mark’s grin widened, his hand resting on his hip. “Better than a dream. You’re real, and you’re here.”
He chuckled, nuzzling Mark’s neck, beard grazing his skin. “Yeah? You’re stuck with me now. How’s that feel?”
Mark’s fingers tightened, pulling him closer. “Like I hit the jackpot. You’re making me happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
He beamed, joy flooding him, and shifted, rolling up to straddle Mark’s hips. His excitement pressed against Mark’s stomach, firm and eager, and Mark’s breath caught, his hands settling on his thighs. Mark’s eyes flickered with nerves, a hint of tension in his jaw, but his grip stayed firm, warm.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning down, brushing his lips over Mark’s.
Mark nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Just, nervous. This is new.”
He smiled, soft and reassuring, and slid higher, moving up Mark’s chest, thighs framing his ribs. “Take your time,” he said, voice low. “I’ve got you. Just feel me.”
Mark’s hands trembled, sliding up his thighs, and he leaned in, pressing a shaky kiss to his stomach. He guided Mark’s head gently, fingers threading through his dark hair, coaxing him closer. Mark’s breath warmed his skin, hesitant at first, then surer as he licked the base of Ethan’s erection, a slow, tentative stroke.
He sighed, pleasure rippling through him, and murmured, “That’s it. You’re doing great.” His voice stayed soft, encouraging, his hands steady in Mark’s hair.
Mark’s tongue moved again, bolder now, tracing him with careful, loving strokes. He wanted to please him, his nervousness fading into focus, and he felt it, the tenderness in every touch. His hips rocked slightly, guiding Mark, and Mark’s hands gripped his thighs, anchoring him as he licked higher, tasting him fully.
The heat coiled tight in his core, Mark’s mouth warm and eager, and he groaned, low and soft, his pleasure building. Mark’s lips brushed the tip, a gentle kiss that sent shivers through him, and he moved faster, chasing it. “Mark,” he breathed, voice thick, “you’re perfect.”
Mark hummed, the vibration tipping him over, and he came, a shuddering release spilling onto Mark’s chest. His body tensed, then melted, pleasure washing through him in waves, romantic and raw. Mark held him through it, hands firm on his hips, his breath ragged against his skin.
He slid down, collapsing onto Mark, his release glistening on Mark’s chest, warm and intimate. Their laughter spilled out, soft and shared, and he kissed Mark’s jaw, tasting the salt of their closeness. Mark’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him tight, and their breaths synced, slow and deep.
They lay there, entwined, his cheek pressed to Mark’s shoulder, a glow settling over them. His happiness hummed, unshakable, and Mark’s quiet chuckle vibrated against him, a sound of pure love that promised everything.
“Man,” Ethan said, laughter bubbling up, “we didn’t last five minutes. What are we, a couple of teenagers?”
Mark chuckled, the sound rumbling against him, and rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand. “I know, right? I haven’t come that fast since high school.”
He snorted, turning to face him, their legs brushing under the sheets. “Guess we’re both out of practice. I’m blaming you, though. You’re too damn hot.”
Mark’s grin widened, his cheeks flushing pink. “Oh, sure. I’m the problem here. You’re the one grinding into me like that.”
He laughed, loud and free, the joy spilling over. “Couldn’t help it. You’re too good at this cuddling thing.”
Their laughter faded, leaving a soft quiet between them. He traced a finger over Mark’s chest, circling the sticky warmth there, and his smile softened. “Been a long time since I’ve been with anyone,” he admitted, voice low. “Like, years.”
Mark’s eyes met his, steady and warm. “Me too. Haven’t been with anyone since Jessica.”
He paused, finger stilling. Mark’s words sank in, heavy and honest, and he swallowed, his throat tight. “Wait. Do you mean just her? Ever? You said that to me before, but I think it just now registered with me.”
Mark nodded, his hand resting on his hip. “Yeah. Only her. You’re my first since, well, everything.”
He’s only ever known her, and now me.
He exhaled, a flicker of vulnerability creeping in. “I’ve been with more. Guys, girls, you know, back before I moved home. Feels weird saying that now. Like I’m too, I don’t know, exposed.”
Mark’s hand tightened, pulling him closer. “Hey,” he said, voice firm but gentle. “It’s okay. I’d never judge you for that. I respect you too much, Ethan. Way too much.”
He smiled, relief washing through him, and pressed his forehead to Mark’s. “You’re too good to me. Guess we’re both figuring this out, huh?”
Mark laughed, a soft huff against his lips. “Yeah. Like a couple of kids stumbling around. Lucky we’re so damn happy about it.”
He grinned, the cheer bursting back, and rolled closer, their bare skin brushing. “Shower?” he asked, wiggling his brows. “We’re a mess.”
Mark’s eyes glinted, playful and warm. “Lead the way.”
He slid off the bed, tugging Mark up with him, and padded to the bathroom, their laughter trailing behind. The tile chilled his feet as he turned on the shower, water hissing hot, steam curling up fast. He stepped in, Mark following, and the heat cascaded over them, slicking their skin.
Mark’s red pajamas hit the floor outside, and he stood bare, water running over his broad chest, down his thighs. He pulled Mark close, their bodies pressing tight, and kissed him while up on his tip toes, slow and deep, water dripping between their lips. Mark’s hands found his waist, fingers digging in, and he groaned, the sound lost in the steam.
His lips trailed to Mark’s neck, tasting the salt of his skin, and Mark tilted his head back, water streaming over his face. He pressed himself harder against Mark, arousal stirring again, and Mark’s hands roamed, sliding down his back, cupping his ass with a hungry grip. He gasped, grinding into him, their erections brushing, slick and hot.
He kissed Mark’s chest, licking the water from his skin, and Mark’s breath hitched, his hands trembling as they clutched him tighter. He sank lower, kissing down his stomach, then up again, lips teasing Mark’s nipples, drawing a soft moan from him. Mark’s fingers threaded through his wet hair, guiding him back up, and their mouths crashed together, desperate and tender.
The steam thickened, the sharp scent of soap cutting through as he grabbed the bar, lathering Mark’s chest, his hands gliding over every curve, every muscle. Mark mirrored him, soapy hands roaming his back, down his thighs, and he shivered, pleasure sparking under his touch. Their kisses grew frantic, water splashing around them, and he pressed Mark against the wall, their bodies slick and entwined.
Mark’s hand slid between them, stroking him slowly and firm, and he bucked into it, heat coiling tight again. He returned the touch, his hand wrapping around Mark, their rhythms syncing, breaths ragged against each other’s lips. The water pounded over them, a curtain of heat, and he kissed Mark’s jaw, his neck, whispering his name as the pleasure crested.
They held each other close, hands moving in perfect tandem, and the release came softer this time, a shared shudder that mingled with the water, washing over them in waves of love. He laughed, breathless, pressing his forehead to Mark’s chest, and Mark’s chuckle echoed, warm and joyful.
They stepped out, dripping and tangled, wrapping their arms around each other. The steam clung to their skin, their laughter soft and binding, and he felt it, a pull so deep it pulsed in every touch, a steamy promise of forever glowing between them.
They dressed and packed their bags, him in jeans and a navy hoodie, Mark in a gray sweater and dark pants, both casual but sharp. He caught Mark’s hand as they left the suite, fingers lacing easily, and Mark squeezed back, his grin widening. The elevator dinged, and they stepped into the crisp Seattle morning, the city alive around them.
Pike Place Market buzzed loudly because Mark wanted to come back again, the air thick with fishy brine and roasted coffee. Vendors shouted, tossing salmon high, and he tugged Mark toward a stall piled with pastries.
“Come on, tourist,” he teased, grabbing a warm cinnamon roll. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a fish fly.”
Mark laughed, snagging a bite from his hand. “I’ve seen plenty. Just not with you stealing my food.”
He smirked, licking sugar from his fingers. “Get used to it. I’m a thief now.”
Mark’s eyes glinted, and he leaned in, voice low. “I’ll let it slide. This time.”
His heart skipped, warmth spread through him, and he pulled Mark through the crowd, their shoulders brushing. They wandered past flower stalls, the scent of lilies cutting through the salt, and he snapped a photo of Mark, his grin bright against the colorful chaos.
Next came the Space Needle, the elevator humming as it lifted them high. The wind whipped crisp atop the observation deck, the city sprawling below in a patchwork of glass and green. He leaned toward the railing, Mark beside him, and felt Mark’s hand slip around his waist, pulling him close. Mark’s lips brushed his temple, a quick, stolen kiss, and he turned, surprised, meeting Mark’s eyes.
“Couldn’t resist,” Mark murmured, his breath warm against his cheek.
He grinned, cheeks heating. “You’re getting bold, Jensen.”
Mark chuckled, kissing him again, soft and sure, the city fading behind them. His chest swelled, Mark’s affection lighting him up, and he rested his head on Mark’s shoulder, the view forgotten.
This is us now, together.
The waterfront came last, a slow stroll along the Sound. Salty sea air filled his lungs, gulls crying overhead, and he kicked a pebble, watching it skitter across the path. Mark’s hand found his, their fingers lacing tight, and he swung their arms playfully, earning a laugh from Mark.
“Gonna miss this,” he said, nodding at the water. “But I’m ready to get home.”
Mark squeezed his hand. “Yeah. Home as, what, a couple now?”
He laughed, nudging Mark’s side. “Damn right. You’re stuck with me, big guy.”
Mark’s grin softened, his thumb brushing his knuckles. “Good. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The airport loomed too soon, the private jet waiting sleek and quiet on the tarmac. He checked his watch, early afternoon sun glinting off the plane’s hull, and tugged Mark toward the gate. “Back to reality,” he said, smirking. “Think we can sneak another nap on this thing?”
Mark chuckled, his eyes warm. “Only if you share the blanket.”
“If we share a blanket, then we are also joining the mile-high club.” Ethan joked.
“Okay.”
He laughed, the sound bright, and they climbed the steps, his hand still in Mark’s. The leather seats creaked as they boarded, warm and familiar, the cabin smelling faintly of coffee and polish. He sank into his seat, Mark beside him, and kept their hands clasped, fingers tangled tight. Mark’s thumb traced his palm, a quiet thrill in the touch, and he felt it, home calling, their future shimmering in the space between them.