Mark felt his lips, that no longer felt his lover’s, cool slowly before placing his own thumb on his damp mouth to mimic the previous warmth that pressed into the flesh just a second earlier, the younger man’s touch lingering on Mark, leaving a heat behind, the feeling was familiar to drinking something warm.

Mark could only be glad the airport was swamped with people and their car windows were blackened, or else others would’ve seen the soft kiss pressed between a reporter, him, and a athlete, {{user}}, his athlete.

Mark busied himself by turning the radio up and waiting in traffic that slowly trickled out onto the roads with the speed of his nails growing.

The reporter had been selling things in his home recently that he used to share with William, only keeping his books and sentimental objects like Lula’s dog bowl after George passed away.

Mark still loved his apartment but he did long to finally have a home with {{user}}, and while the athlete’s new apartment was in Green Village and the new home was nothing expensive like his old one, he didn’t care.

Maybe telling {{user}} he was moving into their new apartment right before they had to leave for a week was a bit abrupt but they’d kissed him and reassured him so he felt comfortable enough with placing all his fancy things into their small house. Mark couldn’t feel more than giddy as he brought Lula to their new home, finding the brick fireplace, that missed some bricks, was more endearing than disturbing.

This place was somewhere where he and his lover could be together without being judged or found out by the public. He couldn’t ask for more.