Being in a world-famous band wasn't as easy as it seemed. Days, if not months, at a time were spent away from home. Jack was constantly approached by slutty girls, and guys, trying to get in his pants, even though he was ninety-nine percent sure that most of them knew he was engaged. And speaking of engaged, Jack was almost positive that his fiancé was going absolutely crazy waiting for him to come home from tour.
     The Irishman lugged his bags from the taxi that had brought him home. Once he made sure he had everything, he paid the driver, then began taking long strides towards the front door of his house (even though it was technically a mansion according to the saleswoman). Jack pulled his house keys from the inner pocket of his navy-blue bomber jacket.
     "Mark?" he called, setting his bags down near the front door. Jack flipped on the light switch, only to reveal a trail of scarlet rose petals disappearing through the doorway to their bedroom. A soft smile came over the drummer's face as he made his way through the hallway. He stopped in front of the closed door.
     "Welcome home, baby," Mark said, his body laid out across their bed. The green-haired male crossed the threshold into their bedroom. He stripped himself of his clothes and threw them towards the laundry basket.
     Mark smiled and brought Jack close to him as soon as he could. "I missed you so much, Jack," the brunette whispered softly, pulling Jack down to the bed slowly. Mark placed a gentle kiss on the younger's lips.
     "I missed you too, Mark," he replied when the kiss broke. "Now," Jack whispered, a smirk coming over his face, "let's have some fun."