I guess you've been in a pretty bad place, so this is for you, Toni! I hope this brightens things just a little bit for you :)

This is pretty short and sucky, but I spent the entirety of my day off trying to think of something, and this is what I came up with.

"It isn't much, but it took all dayyyyyyy."

Title: Until We Reach the Circle's End

Author: Me (aka Sara aka bradtrick)

Pairing: Established Marker (Mark/Roger)

Summary: Mark comes home from visiting his sister for three months in Sacramento. Roger meets him at the airport. Fluffiness ensues.

Mark had spent the past three months visiting his sister in Sacramento. In those two months, Roger was left alone in the loft, and those ninety-something days were quiet possibly the worst ones he had ever had to experience. That included the few months after April's death and even the beginning of his first year of withdrawal. Those times didn't even seem to compare to being left without Mark for two full months.

He tried to put that into perspective. April had been his girlfriend, after all, and he had really cared about her when they were together. So when she died, why didn't Roger have that void in his chest that he felt the second Mark waved goodbye to him? Why was knowing he would never see her again nothing in comparison to being across the country from Mark, whose homecoming was inevitable? Perhaps it was the fact that his relationship with April had been so fucked up and demented that he wasn't even sure it could ever be considered a real relationship. And it wasn't like her death had no effect on Roger; he was a complete fucking mess (Mark could certainly attest to that). But being without Mark was a lot different than being without April.

He was waiting at the airport because today Mark was finally – finally – coming home to him. Roger had promised over and over again that he would meet him the moment he stepped off the plane. The agreement was set in stone since before Mark even left, and Roger intended on making it happen.

He sat with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. His knee was bouncing. Nervous habit. Although there was no reason for him to be nervous because it was just Mark. Just the thought of seeing him after such a long time apart made Roger shake with anticipation, and the anxiety building up within him was making his stomach twist uncomfortably.

He kept checking the time (often multiple times in the same minute), looking over his shoulder at the gate, and occasionally glancing outside to see if a plane had landed while he wasn't looking. He was getting way too worked up about this. Being able to see Mark again was exciting, sure, but Roger was just making himself more shaken up as the minutes droned on.

Roger's hands began to sweat from the way he was rubbing them together. He wiped them on his jeans, reminding himself to breathe because it was just Mark. He glanced over his shoulder again. Because of the hundred-something times he'd done so already, his head instinctively turned back to look out the window. But a certain lanky body and striped scarf had him doing a double-take and standing in one motion. He looked back again and was relieved to find that he hadn't just been seeing things. There - walking with one bag slung over his shoulder, another dragging behind him, and a camera cradled gently against his chest - was his Mark, eagerly surveying his surroundings.

Roger's heartbeat picked up the second he realized it was Mark. A dopey grin slipped onto his features and he started to run because Mark couldn't get to him fast enough. By the time he was halfway there, Mark looked straight ahead and realized who the doofus running toward him was. He smiled right back at Roger, trying to pick up the pace as much as he could with everything in his hands. Roger certainly wasn't going to go easy on him, so Mark did his best to shield his camera for fear that Roger was going to crush him and send his most treasured object spiraling to the floor.

Roger knew this, though, and although his head was spinning with thoughts of Mark, Mark, Mark, he made a mental note not to touch the camera. He pulled Mark into him, causing Mark to drop his bags in the process. Roger grabbed him tightly around the waist and picked him up, spinning him around. Mark laughed because what else could he do? It was like a scene out of one of the movies they liked to sit and make fun of together, yet it was quite possibly one of the best moments they'd ever shared together.

Roger set him down after a moment and kissed him forcefully before holding him close. "My God, I missed you," he mumbled into Mark's shoulder, breathing him in.

Mark laughed again. "I know. I missed you too."

"I hope you're okay with never seeing your sister again for the rest of your life because you're not allowed to leave me again," Roger said mock-sternly, holding a finger in Mark's face. "I'm enforcing this rule."

"Just come with me next time, dork." Mark leaned down to pick up his bags. Roger grabbed one for him. He laced their free hands together as they started walking again. Roger had gone three months without touching him and he was going to be spending a lot of time making up for those lost amounts of contact.

"How're Cindy and the kids?" Roger asked.

"They're great. Glad I'm back here, though." Mark looked over at him. "How have you been doing all by yourself?"

"Fantastic. I partied, like, every night. Met some guys who wear even better scarves," he teased, tugging on Mark's scarf.

Mark scoffed. "Yeah, you wish you'd be that lucky, Rog."

"I'm already pretty fucking lucky." He tightened his grip on Mark's hand to emphasize his statement.

It felt amazing to be together again. The reunion was exactly what Roger had been expecting, and he had to say that Mark looked even better than when he'd left, if that was even possible. Roger wasn't sure if he could handle much more time away from Mark, so maybe he was going to start enforcing that rule of his. As long as it meant he didn't have to be away from Mark again, he'd do whatever it took.

"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Pretty damn lucky."