With Whom We Spend Our Lives [septiplier]

WITH - weeks 25, 26

They were laying on the couch together. Jack's head was settled onto Mark's chest. Mark's hand was entwined in Jack's hair. Both were awake, and yet neither one was moving. If you asked how they'd gotten there there wouldn't be an answer- they didn't really know. And yet they were comfortable, relaxed, and content with doing nothing.

"Hey Mark?" Jack said, looking up.

"Hmm?" Mark said.

"We only have two weeks left," Jack said. Mark shifted his position. He didn't want to think about that. He'd been specifically avoiding thinking about that. "We should probably make a plan on how to break up."

"Mmh," Mark muttered out, closing his eyes. Only two weeks until Jack could move out, stop pretending. Two weeks and he'd be alone again.

"I was thinking something pretty public, like a spat in the supermarket or something. We could even go to that restaurant where we first made it official, that'd be sure to stir the pot," Jack continued. His mind was on statistics. Ask him five months ago if he'd be in this position he would have laughed, insisting that that's not him, that he would never. And yet there he was.

"No, I like it there," Mark said. His voice carried through his chest, vibrating through Jack. "Listen, Jack, can we talk about this later? I'm not really feeling all that great right now." He wasn't feeling great. Dread was pooling in his stomach, and for some reason, he didn't want to let Jack go.

"Oh! Yeah, sure. Do you want me to make you some tea or something? Soup?" Jack asked. Mark gave a little smile.

"I'm good, really. Just stay here," Mark said. Jack smiled, leaning into Mark's touch.

"Alright." So there they stayed.

Another week passed and the deadline was crippling Mark to the bone. He didn't even understand why it bothered him so much- his friend would be living just down the road, still in town. It's not like he'd be far away or anything! It was just... he didn't know. He wasn't looking forward to it.

Mark and Jack were currently hand in hand, walking back from a restaurant where they sold themselves to lies, yet again. Jack couldn't find it in himself to be bothered anymore. At first it was horrible, but it'd been months. Hell, it'd almost been half a year. Jack had adapted to the idea of telling lies. He didn't know what to think about that. He'd just been avoiding the topic entirely. Mark, on the other hand, dwelled on it.

Mark's hand was heavy in Jack's. He realized fully that he wouldn't hold his hand after this week, possibly ever. The thought stung. They walked down the busy streets of LA, quiet but dreamy. Jack yawned, tired. He'd stayed up the last night editing, and was thinking of a new video idea. Mark, though, was consumed with the idea of leaving. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want Jack to leave. He still didn't know why. Jack then came to a sudden stop, and Mark tripped at arm's distance. What? What was Jack stopping for-

Oh.

The carnival.

Of course.

"Mark! You promised we could go back! And look at this, there it is!"Jack shouted gleefully, pulling Mark across the street. Mark nervously looked both ways, hoping no cars would speed by, flattening them into the pavement. Jack's grin flew impossibly bigger as they reached the other end of the street. They stood and looked up into the lights above the Ferris wheel, the bumper cars, and the excitingly (or in Mark's case, threateningly) large roller-coaster. Mark laughed nervously.

"Uh, maybe we should go another night, I think the weather's a little chilly-" Mark started, but Jack was already pulling him through the gates. The line for the coaster was significantly shorter than last time, and Jack pointed this out with a smile. "I know, I know. I promised," Mark gave in. He was determined to not like this,  if only just to piss Jack off. But also, he was kind of scared, whether he admitted it or not.