Sean sleepily opened his eyes, then jerked back. He was holding what felt like flesh, but it didn't belong to him. Straightening up, Sean took in the scene very closely. Mark was sleeping against the couch, because he had been sleeping with his arm! When did THAT happen?! Mark groggily sat up, flexing the fingers of his arm weakly. Sean cleared his throat, scrambling up the back of the couch to climb over it. He had thought Mark would go home. Why was he still here? Mark winced, resorting to grabbing his own wrist in order to move it off the couch with a groan. Sean stumbled off the back of the couch, hitting the floor awkwardly as the blanket entangled him. Mark stiffly slid onto the couch, peeking over the back of it to say in a sleepy yawn. "Good morning. Sleep well, sleeping beauty?" Sean staggered to his feet, pulling the blanket around his body tightly. He felt violated, but he was still wearing clothes. 

Mark chuckled at him, mumbling out absentmindedly. "Go easy on me... I slept on a floor all night." Sean moved around the couch, trying to keep a set distance between them as he snapped out. "What are you still doing here? Why didn't you go home?!" Mark gestured to his limp arm, stating out dryly. "You kept me here. You're welcome by the way..." Sean huffed nervously, telling him matter-of-factly. "You could have taken your arm back and left at anytime! Don't give me that bullshite!" Mark relaxed back against the couch with a pleasant sigh, sweetly replying. "I could have... but you looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you." Sean blushed, gesturing to the door, mumbling out. "Whatever. Can you leave now?" Mark lazily turned to look at him, casually retorting. "You want me out that badly?" Sean was speechless. He wasn't awake enough to take all this in. He needed coffee and a hot shower.

Mark grinned at him, then turned his attention to the ceiling. Sean wondered if Mark was going to fall asleep again, when Mark told him in a drained voice. "Tell you what... You get me some coffee and after that I'll leave. It's the least you can do. Otherwise, I can't drive until I get feeling back in my arm anyway." Sean silently slipped into the kitchen to make a fresh pot. It seemed fair enough. Sean flipped the pot on, glancing at his watch for the time. Seven in the morning. Sighing heavily, he stared blankly as the pot as it heated up. He couldn't recall taking Mark's arm last night. He didn't even know why he would have done that. Pulling the blanket back over his shoulders, Sean clenched his jaw. It didn't matter now. He just wanted him out. He couldn't have Mark here. Mark's hand set a mug down on the counter next to him, causing Sean to side-step a little.

He didn't want Mark to be so close. He was unprepared to throw his guard up at such an early hour. Mark's 'supposed' weak arm, touched his shoulder, asking him in a warm voice. "I thought that since I'm already here... Maybe we could... talk?" Sean shuffled his feet a bit, mumbling out to the counter. "You want to talk? Fine. Let's go somewhere..." Mark's hand moved off his shoulder to touch Sean's cheek, but he turned his head away to avoid the contact. Mark dropped his hand, asking him sadly. "You can't talk to me here? You can't trust me to be alone with you?" Sean let his tense shoulders fall, admitting reluctantly to Mark. "No, Mark... I just can't trust myself around you." Sean refused to look at Mark. He didn't want to see his teddy bear eyes. He had already made that mistake before.

Behind him, Mark whispered close to his ear. "I thought you didn't care about me anymore." Sean swallowed, his ear tingling from Mark's warm breath. His grip on the blanket loosened, causing it to fall down his shoulders. In a shaky voice, Sean told Mark softly. "Mark, don't... Please..." Sean waited for Mark to insist. To take advantage of his weak defenses. He didn't want to care about Mark... but he couldn't forget how close they were once. In the short time that they had been involved with each other, He had found it to be special. Part of him even wanted that back. For now, he just wasn't ready. His scars were too deep. Mark did the opposite of what he had expected. Mark's hands touched his arms, pulling the blanket back up over his shoulders. Sean tightened the blanket around himself, risking a look at him over his shoulder. Mark gave him a warm smile, stepping back.

Sean slowly turned to face him with a shy expression. He wanted Mark to keep his distance. Yet, a small part of him was hoping that he might try just a little to coax him into it. Mark rubbed his numb arm, telling him sweetly. "Ok. I'll give you your space." Mark moved back into the living room and Sean let out the breath he had been holding. Mark had a way of making him feel so weak in the knees. Quickly, turning back to the coffee, he found himself stating aloud. "If I did ask you to stay. What would we even talk about?" Sean bit his lip after the words left him, scolding himself for letting that slip out. From the living room, Mark innocently answered. "Whatever you want to. If I'm going to coach you, than I should catch up on things that have happened with you. Don't you think?" Sean gave a shrug that he wasn't sure that Mark could even see. There wasn't much he had gotten up to.

He had spent most of his time in the hospital and recovery. There was one thing that popped into his head though. Turning around to lean on the kitchen island, he told Mark nonchalantly. "You know almost everything already... Except for my recent Youtube venture." Mark chuckled, relaxing back across the couch as he said. "Ya, I heard that you had started something like that. What do you do with it?" Sean blushed with embarrassment, answering semi-reluctantly. "I play video games." Mark raised an eyebrow, sparking Sean into stating out quickly. "Hey! Don't start with me! I was laid up for months and couldn't do much else. Besides... I actually enjoy doing them." Mark raised his hands in surrender, honestly telling him. "Whoa, easy now. I wasn't judging. I was just curious. I thought maybe you talked about Ice Skating tips, or something. Inspire the next generation and all that. Playing games isn't bad."

Sean huffed loudly, grumbling out. "That's not what my parents said when I first brought it up to them. I believe the words they used were... 'wasting my life' and 'needing to think about my future." Mark brushed his dark bangs out his eyes, chuckling out. "You should have heard my step-mother after she found out I was a stripper. I didn't even tell her. Her friend came to the place on ladies night and recognized me. That was a fun family dinner." Sean laughed at the very thought of that. He could imagine the stress and awkwardness that would come from that. Sneaking a cookie out of his cookie jar, he asked Mark curiously. "That is something I'd like to know. Why did you become a stripper of all things?" Mark draped his arms across the back of the couch, answering sincerely. "Well... After I got suspended from figure skating, I tried to get another job. The ones I wanted weren't hiring. For others, I was under qualified for. After months of struggling. I had to move in with my parents... Got a tip from a fan about a bartender gig and took it."

Mark looked at him and Sean jammed the cookie into his mouth. Mark hadn't noticed. So, Mark continued to tell him lightly. "I took the bartender job, but minimum wage was killing me... I couldn't ever get ahead of my debts. My parents weren't helping. They called it my 'just desserts.' I asked the owner of the club how to make more and he told me. The next day, I was on the stage. Turned in a good bit of money. So, I kept doing it. It kept me in shape and I got a lot of attention from men and women. Traded in my old fans for new ones, I guess." Sean dragged his nails silently along the counter top. Swallowing down his cookie, he asked Mark hesitantly. "These new fans of yours... Did they pay extra for... services?" Mark's eyes narrowed on him for a minute, but he informed him gently. "For lap dances, yes. If you're wondering if I've slept with any of them... No. I'm a stripper. Not a prostitute. They aren't even allowed to touch me, unless they're stuffing money down my pants."

Sean felt slight relief with that bit of knowledge. He didn't want to think of Mark with other people that didn't care about him for anything other than his body. Mark shifted on the couch to face him, asking him with a wicked smirk. "Why? Would you like to buy my services, Ireland?" Sean blushed a deep red, hiding his face partly in the blanket as he uttered out shyly. "That's not why I asked..." Mark propped his head up with his fist, playfully prodding him. "It's not? Than why did you ask? Worried about me? Or are you just jealous?" Sean's voice cracked unintentionally when he rushed out defensively. "No!" Mark raised a smug eyebrow and Sean turned away to face the coffee pot. The coffee was just about done. Sean grabbed his coffee mug and Mark's to prepare them. He needed something to distract himself, before he said something that he shouldn't have.

Sean poured the coffee into their cups, listening to Mark tell him sweetly. "It won't kill you to say that you still have feelings for me, you know." Sean let out heavy sigh, replying seriously. "I don't have feelings for anyone. I'm too busy. I have to focus on training. That is all I care about." Sean picked up the mugs, carrying them over to Mark. Mark sat up on the couch, making room for him to sit down. Sean handed him his coffee mug and Mark reached for it. Mark's fingers deliberately slid over his for a brief minute, before taking the mug from him. Sean moved his hand to his own mug, flexing his fingers against the glass. The brief contact had felt good, but he scolded himself for wanting more of it. Taking a seat by Mark to watch the TV, Mark innocently told him. "If that is all you care about, than I'll make you care about it until it hurts." Sean huffed sarcastically, uttering out under his breath. "I don't need you for that." To Be Continued...