Mark woke up to birds chirping outside his apartment window. He blinked a few times, trying to force his brain into gear. He brought a hand up to rub his eyes, when he felt movement against his chest.
He looked down, and broke out into a wide smile when he saw Jack lying there. Jack’s head was resting on Mark’s chest, and he had one arm draped across Mark’s stomach. Mark’s arm was around Jack’s shoulders, holding him close.
Jack’s fingers clutched at Mark’s shirt as he mumbled in his sleep. He was adorable. Mark ran his hand through his boyfriend’s hair, which was light brown, but had been going grey for a few years now. Jack didn’t really like it, but Mark thought it just added to the bundle of adorableness that was Jack McLoughlin, along with his milky-white skin and Irish accent that he loved.
This had been normal for them for years now. They’d met in high school, and had quickly fallen for each other. Soon enough afterwards, they’d moved in together, which had been one of the best decisions of Mark’s life. Partially because he got to live with the boy he loved –
Jack’s grip on Mark’s shirt tightened as he shifted into a more comfortable position, and Mark temporarily lifted his arm, allowing him to move, before gently setting it back down again, smiling gently and lovingly at him.
– and partially for the sweet moments like this, where everything was perfect in the little world they’d created for themselves.
Yes, Mark was very, very in love with the man in his bed. And no homophobic teenagers in high school stopped that, and they never would.
Mark’s head flopped sideways onto the pillow as he dozed back into sleep, with the man he loved securely in his arms.