Septiplier & shite<3

Gimme Dat Flannel Hoe

"Keys?"

"Yep, keys right here!"

"Okay....okay okay okay...uhm the door. Is the door locked?"

"Yes, the door is locked, will you just relax?"

"I will I ju-CHICA! IS CHICA IN HER KENNEL?"

"Yes! Yes yes Mark. Just get in the damn car already or we'll be late!"

"We must be missing something...there has to be something..."

"Mark?"

"Yes Matt?"

"Get in the fucking car."

"Right."

Mark smoothed back his hair, puffing out his cheeks before finally settling into the drivers seat of his car. His eyes found the rearview mirror and he sighed, picking a piece of red hair and putting it back into place.

"Hey Mark," A hand rested lightly on Mark's shoulder and squeezed a bit, "Everything is going according to plan. Don't worry, it's going to be great."

"Plus," Matt grinned from in between the two front seats, "He'll be too busy to notice if anything went wrong."

"Shut up," Mark brought his seat belt across his chest, fighting a blush and started the car.

The road to the airport bustled with traffic, and Mark was losing his nerve. Was he wearing too much cologne? Should he have worn another shirt? Why didn't he bring extra deodorant?

Ryan and Matt were conversing, laughing loudly at something they saw. Mark wanted to laugh, but he couldn't.  He was too nervous. The thought of the upcoming weekend was driving him insane.

"Hey, Mark are you wearing your lucky flannel?" Ryan asked mischievously, Mark scrunched his brows together before answering with a nod.

"Yes....?"

"Is it because you're hoping to get lucky tonight?" Ryan wriggled his eyebrows and Mark ducked his head, glaring at the road.

"Aw good one!" Matt laughed slapping Mark on the back who jumped.

"Don't hit me, I'm driving!" The guys laughed as Mark shook his head. "It's not funny, stoppit."

The nonsense continued until Mark finally pulled up to the front of the airport. Ryan was asleep but Matt was wide awake, camera in hand as he and Mark exited the car. Mark closed his door, and stared into his reflection.

He reached up and fixed the collar of his shirt, then he unbuttoned the top button. Scrutinizing his image, he buttoned the top button again and straightened his shirt, but then he unbuttoned the top button once more. Running his hands through his newly dyed hair, he studied his shirt for the fifth time, unsatisfied with the way it fit him today.

"And here we have Markimoo, fixing his shirt so he can look sexy for-"

"That's enough." Mark grimaced, pushing Matt away from him, ignoring the camera. If he was recording, Mark would have to kill him later, right now he was focused on something more important.

He finally settled on leaving the top button undone and gave his hair one more comb through before turning to Matt with a hopeful look.

"You look great, Mark." He smirked, shaking his head. Matt lowered his head and brought the camera up to his face, "Now, say 'I'm in love with my best friend but I'm afraid to tellll hiiiiiim' !"

Mark's face burned as he flipped the camera and Matt off, "Fuck off Matt. You and I both know that's not true."

"Whaaa?" Matt stopped, looking up from his camera and placing a hand over his heart. "B-b-but w-what about...'bout.." He pushed out his bottom lip and pretended to sniff, "What about Septiplier?"