Septiplier One-Shots

Opposites Attract.

Mark leaned against the brick wall in the alleyway, a cigarette dangling between his lips. He put his fingers on it and took it out, letting a puff of smoke following. Mark's lungs were burning, but he had smoked for two years and was numb to the feeling at this point. Mark ran a hand through his slick hair and tugged on his jacket, feeling a cold breeze come by. Mark threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it, grounding it into the pavement below. He took his foot off and shoved his hands in his pockets, walking out of the alleyway and towards his house.

Mark decided to cut through the park downtown to get to his destination, seeing he needed to stop by the gas station on the way there. The wind picked up and Mark zipped up his black, leather jacket, placing his hands back in his pockets and continuing to walk. Mark picked up his pace as he saw the gas station, feeling in his jean pockets for money. He felt a couple dollar bills(which he probably stole or found)and some change, speed-walking to the gas station door and opening it. Mark smiled a tiny bit and felt the warm air flow over his body, his eyes looking around to see if a special someone was there. Mark ran another hand through his hair and made his way to the back, scanning the isles. He wasn't really planning to buy anything, but he wanted to tease the person he came here for.

A few kids were in the back sharing a bag of chips, all of them boys. They were wearing sweater vests and had their hair combed back, and Mark immediately knew they were Socials-Socs for short. Mark was a Greaser-as the Socs called them-and the two gangs didn't get along at all. Mark felt the group eyeing him as he walked in, his eyes trained on the floor. They were here because one of their Soc friends worked the registered. His family owned at least six gas stations in town, which made him rich enough to be a soc.

After a few minutes, Mark ended up with nothing and made his way to the cash register, watching the cashier as he sauntered up.

"Good evening, sir." the cashier said, giggling and smiling at Mark. Mark leaned his elbow on the counter and smiled back at the cashier.

"Hey, Jack." Mark said softly, sliding one of the dollar bills in his pocket across the counter. "How's my little soc today?" Jack laughed and playfully shoved Mark, causing Mark to chuckle.

"Don't call me that, greaser." Jack playfully said, taking to dollar bill. Mark could feel Jack's friends eyeing him, and he shifted his gaze downward to the counter.

"I need a pack." Mark said, hearing the cash register open. There was the sound of coins clinking together and Jack handed Mark back two quarters, Mark putting them in his pocket. Jack reached behind him and grabbed one of the cheap brands, the one he knew Mark especially liked.

"If you're worried about my friends, don't be. They're just jealous that I'm dating the hottest guy in school." Jack explained, sliding the pack across the counter. Mark chuckled at the last part. "I can tell 'em off if they give you shite." Mark chuckled again at Jack's Irish accent, Jack being a transfer. Mark didn't have a clue how he actually made it to America, but it didn't matter.

"I can take 'em, sweetheart." Mark said sarcastically, causing Jack to chuckle. "But thank you."

"No problem, Mark." Jack said, placing his hand over Mark's. "We're still on for the drive-in tomorrow, right?"

"Definitely." Mark said, turning his hand over and giving Jack's a squeeze. "Could you help me with my homework after?"

"Sure." Jack said, smiling at the end. "Meet me at the movie at six, yeah?"

"Will do, babe." Mark said. He gave Jack's hand another squeeze and and started walking out, hearing Jack clear his throat. Mark smiled gently an turned around, walking back to the counter. He leaned in and pecked Jack on the lips, kissing his forehead right after.

"See you at school!" Jack said. "Love you." Mark smiled and pecked his lips one more time.

"Love you too." Mark said, turning around and walking out the door.