Not A Day Goes By

Chapter Three: In Limbo

We lay in silence, our breathing not yet ready to return to its normal rhythm. He wasn't kidding when he said he'd make it great for me too. Of course, it hurt like hell at first, and I couldn't suppress my anguished screams. I tried biting on my knuckle, but that just put me in even more pain. Though it didn't hurt all the way through, it stopped hurting after a few minutes. Then it started feeling... Different. I could tell Mark was enjoying himself, I could see it in his eyes, and in the way he bit his lip. He wasn't nearly as loud as me, but he wasn't quiet either.

When it ended, he'd pulled me into his arms, turning on his side so his nose was right next to my ear. His lips were against my temple for a split second before his gasping breath blew across my face. I stared straight up at the ceiling, not sure what to think about this feeling... Both mental and physical.

"Sean," he says softly after a while.

"Mark," I reply, feeling a twist in my gut when his arms tighten around me.

"How..." He looks at me, begging me to read his mind so he won't have to say it.

I smile faintly, "you definitely kept your promise."

A huge grin breaks across his face. "I am the king."

"What does that make me?" I mumble, hoping he'll take that as a hint and tell me if we're going out or not.

"Why, you're the jester of course, you ridiculous man," he continues to smile at me, sitting up and pulling the sheet around his waist.

"Heh," I fake a laugh and sit up, facing the wall. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't care. I really want to ask him what we are. Is he just using me to sate his needs? No, I quickly dismiss the thought. Mark isn't like that. His fingers delicately move up my spine, resting on my shoulder.

"Thank you."

"Thank me?" I turn and face him, my feet still dangling off the bed. "For?"

"Being amazing." I snort at this and stand, gathering my clothes in my arms.

"Leaving already?" He whines.

"Yeah," I huff, jumping as I pull up my jeans, "you need to get some sleep or pack or something." He stands and comes over to me, the sheet dropping to the ground. He puts his arms around me, hugging me while I button my pants. "Mark, I gotta put my shirt on..."

"No," he murmurs. "I like it like this."

I blush, but gently push him off. He stares at me for a moment, then starts putting on his clothes too. "Why are you getting dressed?" I ask him as I zip my jacket.

"I'm walking you down," he says as if it were obvious.

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"Well I'm going to," he doesn't bother shutting off the light when he follows me out. Not so surprisingly, we see that short man from earlier in the elevator. Suddenly, Marks hand on my shoulder feels like a huge neon, (or should I say 'rainbow,') beacon. I try to avoid his eyes, but they're burning into my face as if to say, "I know what you did, I know what you did." I frown at him, hoping Mark doesn't notice the man's glare. We've disrupted his sleep for two nights now.

"I'm going to miss you," Mark smiles.

"Me too..." I mentally kick myself for not asking him if we were together before we left the room.

"I was just going to fill out a complaint about you two," the man says awkwardly.

"Oh," Mark takes his hand off my shoulder. "Sorry... Uh." My face feels like it's on fire. Oh god, he definitely heard us, heard me.