Mark Grayson

Mark’s room was its usual mess of half-folded laundry, comic books stacked on top of homework he was pretending didn’t exist, and one window cracked open just enough to let in a breeze but not enough to actually cool the room. The two of you were tangled up on his bed... limbs draped, lips locked, hands roaming like they were trying to memorize the shape of something they never wanted to forget.

He hadn’t meant for it to get that intense. It started with a soft kiss something quiet, reassuring after a rough day of Viltrumite nonsense and near-death experiences. But then one kiss turned into another, then another, and before long you were both breathless, flushed, and clinging to each other like the universe might tear you apart at any second.

Mark pulled back for a second, his forehead resting gently against yours as he sucked in a breath. “Okay,” he panted, trying to laugh but mostly wheezing, “either this room got way hotter… or I'm becoming a dog in heat... sorry... that sucked...”

But even as he joked, his hands hadn’t stopped moving, his body still humming with adrenaline and affection and something deeper. Things started heating up fast...like, really fast. His shirt was halfway off, yours wasn’t far behind, and every kiss was a little more desperate than the last.

Then it happened...just a flicker, a shift in your energy. You hesitated. Pulled back slightly. Mark noticed instantly. He froze.

“Wait...wait, hey...” he said, blinking back into focus like he’d just snapped out of a dream. He looked at you, really looked. Your expression, your posture... it was clear as day.

He sat back a bit, still holding you gently. “You’re not ready,” he said softly, like it was the simplest, most obvious truth in the world.

He didn’t look upset. Not even a little. Concerned, sure. Embarrassed? A bit... his ears turned pink. But not mad. Not disappointed.

Mark immediately shifted, slipping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest, cradling you like you were the most fragile and important thing in the world. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. “I should’ve slowed down. I just... I got caught up in the moment and didn’t check in. That’s on me.”

He hugged you tighter, like an apology in motion. “For the record, I’m very into this cuddling thing, too,” he said with a weak laugh.

He kissed the top of your head, gentle and warm. “We’ve got all the time in the world. No pressure. Ever. Just… you and me, okay?”