aussielawyer: (176)
Mark Campbell, esq. ([personal profile] aussielawyer) wrote in [community profile] muserevival2017-03-05 02:08 am

Quote of the Day (024)

"The greatest conflicts are not between two people but between one person and himself."
- Garth Brooks

Mark only realised he had fallen asleep when he was being woken up by an insistent and constant ringing of the doorbell. At first, he wasn't even awake enough to recognise it as reality and not something he was dreaming. Then it was like his brain suddenly gave itself a swift kick up the arse and he was shooting up in the bed in a groggy and disoriented fumble, trying to make a grab for his clock to check the time. It was nearly 11am. He had slept through his alarm. "Fuck!" He jumped up out of the bed while doorbell was being run again a few times over out in the depths of the apartment. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, buggering fuck!"

Being naked didn't help anything. Nor did the fact he wasn't naked alone. He was messily falling out of the bed in a rush, his legs knotted up in the tangle of crumpled sheets that had been acting as a cocoon around their bodies. He was trying to grab his phone, a shirt, underwear, and remember what his fucking name was all the while still cursing passionately. And it was like he couldn't find a single fucking one of those vital things.

"What is it? Do you have to be somewhere?" Mary asked where she was now sitting up in the bed with the sheets pooled around her waist. Fuck, were her tits amazing. But if he let himself stop to think about that right now, it was going to be one hell of an horrific awkward moment when he got to the door. He hadn't meant for this to happen. Mary had come here to discuss her legal options about trying to move to New York to be closer to Cooper, hoping she could find a place for them both and start her new life here, the place her teenage son was now settled. Shit, was this a far cry from decades ago when they would throw waterbombs at each other and play in the sprinklers in the backyard in their primary school years.

"It's Sasha and his folks. They were bringing him back here after he got discharged." Mark found a pair of jeans and was roughly trying to yank them on sans underwear. He was going to ditch the shirt, until he caught sight of his torso that was covered in hickeys and maybe a couple of scratches from their far-from-innocent encounter late the night before. When Justin had gone to bed around seven thirty to try to get a decent rest before he had to go back to work the next night, Mark and Mary had still been chatting over a cuppa. Everything always looked so much more sobering in the cold light of day. He found a crumpled shirt on the flood by the dresser and pulled it on, without realising it was inside out. "You'll just have to stay here, love. Sorry. Sasha's mates with Cooper. He cannot know about this."

He didn't have to time to give her anymore leeway or explanation. He hurried out of the bedroom and up the hall to the door, haphazardly trying to do the buttons of the shirt up, and raking his fingers through his hair. There were already a million and one excuses trying to surge through his mind that he could pass off for not getting to the door straight away. Fuck, he felt terrible. Sasha was being discharged from hospital a little earlier than expected to hopefully surprised Justin later, and further surprise him with the news he and his parents had tickets to the show that night too. Normally, no doctor would advise him going out after being in hospital, but he would definitely have top notch VIP treatment and it would only be a few hours.

Mark was breathless when he got to the door and pulled it open. Sasha was there leaning against the wall looking pretty wiped out, beside him was his mum, and his dad in his motorised wheelchair. "Hey! Sorry, I was just..." But any potential excuse died on his lips when he caught sight of the look Sasha was giving him from where he was standing a little behind where his mum was. She couldn't see her son's face... thank fuck.

Sasha had been staying with them, so he was privy to the entire situation. Mark suddenly wished he wasn't. He was on the receiving end of a pretty epic teenage stare-down right here, and this was the first moment he realised how intense Sasha's eyes were, even if he was recovering from an operation. "Did we wake you up, dude?" Martin asked. "Sash was just saying Justin sent him a text saying he didn't sleep well, so maybe you were sleeping in if you were up with him."

Mark looked from Martin, back again to Sasha, who was now giving him a 'Yeah, you'll be repaying me for this later, by the way' look, complete with a subtle quirk of the eyebrow. Justin had slept like a like. Mark knew this because he had checked on his kid about an hour after he went to bed, and he was crashed. Mark wondered how the hell he managed to get into this mess. But there was really only one plausible answer: his dick. "Um... yes. That's it. Closed my eyes for ten more minutes and it turned into a few hours. You know how it goes." Through his hasty lie, Mark heard Sasha clear his throat and when he looked at the teen again, Sasha was subtly making a wiping gesture at his cheek. Mark had no idea what it meant until he realised Sasha was trying to indicate that was what he needed to do. "Come in, come in. You can lie on the sofa, Sash, or go through to Justin's bed. It's probably not made." He quickly stepped aside to let them in, rubbing at his cheek roughly when they passed. A red lipstick smear came off on his fingertips.


Not only had he let himself get completely caught up in the moment with the mother of one of his kid's closest friends, he had just been sprung in the act by his kid's boyfriend too. He hadn't had a drop of alcohol in months, but he was developing a headache not unlike a hangover. And he was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with guilt, and everything to do with the fact that it dawn on him that he didn't regret any of this... he only regretted getting caught.

MARK CAMPBELL // Original Character

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