Seduce and Destroy {Septiplier}

Deserve It All

They walk quietly for a while before Jack says something.

    "Where are we headed?" Mark turns to look at him.

    "My place isn't more than a five minute walk so we can go to mine," Mark suggest and Jack nods. Better at Marks than at his own.

    So for the next five minutes they walk in a comfortable silence. Jack begins to notice everything. Marks hand to close to his that if he just slowly reached his fingers in that direction he could hold it and never let it go. However Jack scolds himself. This town shames and destroys any mention of homosexuality. So he focuses his mind on the beautiful blonde that he's going to have sex with and then leave this weekend. He focuses on her high pitched voice and her ringlet curls. Her large thighs and big breast. How innocent she was and how he was going to rip out her heart and destroy it. He focuses on her lace clothing and how nice her underwear will be but nothing can silence pretty boy walking next to him.

    "Ok we're here," Mark announces reaching for a key in his back pocket. Snapping from his thoughts he looks up to see a motel.

    "Mark? You live in a motel? The shittest motel in our town," Jack says confused and in awe. Jack even saying this was a lot. So as Mark went toward his room yanking out a key. Jack watched as he unlocked it, half expecting roaches to spill from the room but when he opened it it was amazing. So many prices of paper lined the walls. Hand drawn pictures hand everywhere. Pencil, pen, sketches, doodles didn't matter each one was more perfect than the last. Some were realistic, some weren't. Jack stood in the doorway dumbfounded and in complete silence before he broke from his trance and ran inside.

    "Mark these are fucking amazing!!" He practically yells as he begins to look at the walls. "You have such a talent! I mean look at this," he points to a lightbulb with a tree growing in it. The drawing looks sad but yet so beautiful. Mark blushes and grabs the back of his neck.

    "No its nothing..." he dismisses which makes Jack come over and pull his arm so they can look at the drawings.

"These are incredible," Jack says yanking on Marks arm making him look at him. Mark shakes his head and shows his favorites and least favorites while Jack does the same but only picking his favorites because 'they are all so fucking magnificent'. Jack reaches out and reveals a oil painting of a teenager. The kid has blue hair styled like Marks and his face his narrow, skin pale. His grey blue eyes crinkled up as he smiles and laughs. His head thrown back and he looks like he's laughing harder than ever before, he looks so happy and Mark captured that perfectly.

    "Who's this?" Jack asks as examines. It seems Mark only draws but this one is in paint and still amazing. Marks body doesn't go ridged but it goes still. Like something scary will pop out and he wants to prepare himself. He looks off into the distance his eye glazing over. Mark tries to stumble his way on but the word come form his mouth thickly and he cant seem to speak. Jack stops him and looks right into his eyes that can't make eye contact back.

"You can trust me Mark. I've got you okay? I'll listen I promise," Jacks voice is sympathetic but Marks unreadable and still con jumbled.

    "You don't have to tell me anything but I want you to know I'm here okay? Mark do you get that?" Jack says after Mark says silent for longer. "Oh Mark," Jack says again as Mark starts to cry. "I've got you okay? I'm here," his voice is now distance as he pulls Mark to the bed and rubs his back. Horrible memories of himself flashing forward. His mothers glazed over eyes as she looked at the ceiling. The once beautiful latin words twisted into a hellish jumble. Jacks sharp cries that received nothing but whips. His aunt coming over and hissing harsh words as he sobbed. Her words slapping him across the face before her saggy hands lashed across it leaving a red mark. She told him he was selfish. That he needed to be saved. That he was going to hell. His mother had it worse so he needed to be less selfish. He needed to not cry. Crying was for people who deserved it. He deserved nothing. Jack was nothing.

He sits there now motionless on the bed. Tears pressing against his eyes that he pulls back. He doesn't deserve to cry. Crying was for people who deserved it and Jack didn't deserve anything. He realized he was selfish long ago and crying was for the deserving and he didn't deserve it. But Mark, he deserved everything.

Even though Jack meant him only earlier that day. He knew Mark was worthy. He was worthy of the water that slipped down his cheeks. He was worthy of the suffocating sobs that escaped his chest. Mark was worthy of the world. Jack felt it and he knew it. Mark was important, more important than anyone he'd ever meant. More important than his mother, more important than his aunt, more important than himself. Jack didn't understand why but he had that feeling. The feeling of a flower growing in his chest when he saw Marks drawings. The feeling of sun leaking in his pores as he looked right into his eyes. He had every feeling. He knew he would be someone so special and so worthy. Worthy of everything.

Right there and then Jack made a vow. A vow that he would protect the vulnerable boy in his arms because he was worthy of the world. He would make the sad drawings on the wall have the same energy as the boy in the oil painting.