Middle of the Week Motivation

No Escape

Mark sighed as he closed the door and locked it, then slipping off his shoes and running his fingers through his raven colored hair. "Jack," he called out, "I'm home!"

Mark was surprise when he was greeted with silence. Jack almost always came running down the hall and tackled Mark with a hug whenever he got home. "Jack?" Mark called out a again, now growing worried.

Mark set down his briefcase and cautiously moved towards the hallway. What he say startled him. There was a large sleeping bag at the end of the hall, except it looked like there was someone lying in it. "Jack?" Mark asked warily.

Suddenly the sleeping bag sat upright, revealing that Mark's boyfriend was covered head-to-toe in the camping gear.

"What're you doi_" Mark began to ask until he was interrupted by Jack doing his best impression of a Xenomorph screech.

Mark jumped, and Jack flipped onto his stomach and began to inch down the hallway like a caterpillar at an alarming speed.

Mark cursed loudly and dashed back into the living room, then running over to the couch and perching himself on top of it.

As Mark whimpered from atop his perch, Jack began to circle the couch, all the while muttering "A-shimmy-shammy, a-shimmy-shammy." He stopped once, only to catch his breath, before continuing to worm his way around the couch.

Mark, seeing as he had nowhere to go, laid down on the couch and closed his eyes, hoping he could at least take a nap while Jack circled him like a reverse-vulture.

Jack finally stopped and sat back in his haunches. "Mark," he whispered.

Mark didn't respond, but he listened as Jack unzipped the sleeping bag. It was suddenly draped across him, and Jack soon snuggled up next to him. "I'm sorry for scaring you," his Irish lover whispered.

Mark smiled and wrapped his arms around Jack. "That's okay little burrito, I still love you."