Bully || Septiplier

Chapter Sixteen

FOUR O'CLOCK. JACK'S ROOM. He was sitting on his bed, listening to music without a care in the world, doing some homework. The song on his playlist of cliche songs that was currently playing played its opening chords, and Jack smiled because whenever this song in particular played all he could think of was Mark. Mark, Mark, always Mark.

Waking up to kiss you and nobody's there, the smell of your perfume still stuck in the air, it's ha-a-a-a-ard..

He hummed along to the tune, now tapping his pen along on the notebook. Brown eyes, beautiful brown eyes that were darker at the iris. Brown eyes that crinkled up in the corners when he was happy or laughing, and Jack loved his laugh, his laugh that came from perfect lips that he wanted to kiss all day.

And I wanna tell you everything, the words I never got to say the first time around..
And I remember everything, from when we were the children playin' in this fairground..

When this verse in particular came on, Jack stopped and his smile diverted and he kind of took a short breath. The first time around. So many things went wrong, but maybe this time, in secret they could do it right, make things better. Or so Jack thought.

And then, there was a knock on the front door. Faint from his room with the door closed, but he could still hear it over the music, and his mother wasn't here - she was at work again - so he took out his earbuds and pushed aside his homework and jumped up to answer the door.

When he was walking out of his room, he remembered. Felix was coming over-- how could he have forgotten? He found it kind of strange that Felix was knocking on the front door, because usually he kind of just walked in and interrupted whatever Jack was doing. He kind of ran a hand through his hair, not wanting to look like a teenage slob in front of his best friend, (but weren't they all?) and approached the front door.

And then the knob was twisted, there was a squeak as the oak door was swinging open gently, with not too much momentum, and Jack realized he payed attention to the little things too much. He was paying too much attention to the door to realize exactly who was standing behind it.

He expected Felix to be standing where Mark was, smiling, looking charming and neat and clean as always while Jack was in a state between shock and panic, wearing pyjama pants and a shirt because he wasn't planning on leaving the house. "Oh-"

"Did you forget I was coming?" Mark's smile faltered, but only slightly, and he laughed in an almost teasing way. Ha. Forgetful Jack. Funny. But there was a lump in his throat, and he couldn't really speak over it, so he chuckled and nodded nervously.

He found his words. "It's fine though, come on in. I'll just have to get dressed and we can go." But the entire time he was thinking about Felix, and how he'd be here any minute, and holy shit, Jack fucked up.

Still, surprisingly, when Mark was walking down the hall and into his room and even sitting on his bed, Jack couldn't fess up and tell him about Felix coming over. Maybe he didn't want to admit he fucked up. That itself was fucked up, but by now it was too late to casually bring up so he made small talk with Mark while he took out some clothes.

"Are you going to, um.." Jack trailed off, looking from his clothes to Mark helplessly.

"I can look away," Mark said quickly, shifting on the bed so he was faced in another direction. Jack kind of froze, hesitated, but nodded.

"Um, okay, sure." And then, almost uncertainly, Jack took off his shirt and tossed it away. He awkwardly stripped out of his pants, and maybe Mark was watching out of the corner of his eye, maybe Jack was aware, but he didn't bring it up and continued. He slid on a pair of jeans but before he could put on a shirt, Mark was suddenly standing in front of him.

"God, I'm sorry, but you look good without a shirt on and I really want to make out with you. Is that weird? Is that okay?" Mark didn't seem to need an answer, and just as Jack was about to reply, his mouth was on his and they were working against each other like fire.

It was as if their whole relationship was based around making out. Jack didn't mind, though - he wasn't arguing, because Mark's lips were so god damn soft. He was hyper aware of Mark's hands caressing his bare waist, of his fingertips tracing small patterns on his skin. It made Jack shiver and crave more, and soon they were moving toward the bed, and Mark was sitting on the edge and Jack was sitting in his lap facing him and they were kissing, feeling, breathing, being.

Every thought seemed to fly out of Jack's mind aside from Mark. Mark.

Mark. Mark Fischbach. Mark. Markimoo. Markle Sparkle. Kisses. Love. Mark. Mark's eyes, Mark's lips, Mark's hair, Mark's goddamn smile, just Mark in general because Mark was everything Jack wanted and everything he needed.

He wasn't aware of his bedroom door opening. He was slightly aware of a voice, quiet, cracked, surprised. "Oh." Mark pulled back first and Jack pulled back as well, tuned his head in the direction of his door, and his eyes met with a wide blue. Felix stood there, eyes wide, hair messy and face red. He looked hurt in the worst way, a way that made Jack feel a strange sense of guilt that was an internal feeling more than an emotion and he didn't know why because Felix was just a friend. "I'm s-sorry, I'll just, um.."

Mark was stiff underneath him, and so Jack stood up off of him and urgently took a step towards Felix, who was turning away. "Wait-"

He had to walk-chase him down the hallway and grab his arm to stop him. "Felix, wait a goddamn second."

The blonde turned to face him, and he looked genuinely broken, so broken and hurt and wounded that Jack had to look away. But he still heard his voice, which was cracked but hushed. "Why him, Jack? There's a million other people, but why him?" He paused, waiting, maybe for an answer but when he didn't get it he continued. "He hurt you. Do you remember that? Have you forgotten? Why him and not me?"

Jack was so surprised that he couldn't say anything, only listen to Felix's words, which were getting progressively angrier. "I've been here for you. I've been a friend. I've been a shoulder to damn cry on, tears that he made, and I've loved you so obviously but you were oblivious. Still you chose him, but God, why? Why can't I have you?"

Felix didn't need an answer. He just shook his head and dropped something on the ground, a letter it looked like, and turned to walk away. He didn't need to break away from Jack's grip; his hand had already fallen to his side. Then something took over Jack because he called to Felix, maybe selfishly, "Wait! Please don't tell anyone about Mark and I--"

Just as he finished his sentence, Felix was gone and the front door was closed. Jack bent down to pick up the letter. He heard footsteps behind him and straightened himself, stuffing the letter in his pocket. "What was that about," said Mark almost threateningly. "Is he going to tell people?"

"No, I don't think he will," said Jack. Mark's brown eyes kind of softened. "He's... a good guy. I'm sorry about that, I said he could come over after school and I wasn't even thinking about you and I wasn't even thinking about him when you walked in and-"

Mark cut him off by pulling him into a hug. "I love you," he murmured into his hair. "I love you, and nobody can take you away from me. Okay?"

"Okay," whispered Jack.