Bully || Septiplier

Chapter Twenty-Three

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JACK tried to compose himself as he got closer and closer to Felix's locker. Wade was standing at his locker with Felix, but it didn't really phase Jack - the Irish boy just didn't quite know what to say, and how to say it. But he was close to the two of them now, and Wade was staring at him with narrow eyes, and he was too far into his plan to turn back.

Jack clenched a sweaty fist and took a swift, unbalanced stride towards Felix, whom had his back turned to him and obviously didn't notice. Wade looked like he was about to shoot Jack a snide comment, but before he could Jack tapped Felix on the shoulder. "Felix?" The blonde boy stiffened and turned around.

"What do you want?" The Swedish boy looked at Jack in disgust. 

"Yeah, what do you want," snarled Wade and Jack sent him a narrow glare telling him to back off.

But then he forced himself to remain polite, giving a sour smile to both Wade and Felix. "I'd like to talk to Felix alone, please." Wade raised an eyebrow. Felix was silent.

Before either of the two could speak, there was a different voice from behind Jack that startled the Irish boy. "What do you have to say to Felix that we can't hear?" Bob. Shit. The other taller boy stepped into Jack's vision, and Jack felt like giving up and running away. But what got to him the most was how Felix was letting these two assholes speak for him. 

"That's none of your business," Jack snapped back.

"Was kissing Mark none of our business either? Maybe you're planning on turning Felix gay as well." Bob's reply made Jack clench his fist so hard he felt something crack in protest. 

"Whatever. Fine, I'll say it here," Jack breathed, trying to calm down. As threatened as he felt, he couldn't let things escalate. He didn't have a chance with these two boys when it came to fists. He turned to Felix, "I wanted to say I'm sorry 'bout what happened, and I really want my best friend back, and I don't know what reason you have for hanging with these dicks but I'm sorry, Fe."

Felix stared at Jack, long and hard, as if he was trying to figure something out about him. But he still didn't reply, just slowly looked away, and for some reason this made Jack snap. He just poured his fucking heart out and apologized and he still had nothing to say? Fine.

Meanwhile, Wade was laughing and Bob snorted. "Get the fuck away from Felix, faggot. I can't believe you." Jack was shoved away from the group, and he was about to shove back but the three of them walked away, leaving Jack pissed off and angry and confused.

**

Jack stormed into his bedroom. He barely even remembered Mark was there, and kind of flinched when he saw Mark on his phone on Jack's bed in a corner. He dropped his bag with a huff and crossed his arms and sat down cross-legged in front of Mark, who was catching on to Jack's behaviour and slowly shut off his phone, tossing it away somewhere on the bed.

"What's wrong?" Mark frowned very obviously, eyebrows knitting together. "You don't look very happy."

"That's because I'm not very happy."

"What happened? If you don't want to talk about it, that's-"

"Felix is a motherfucking idiot who doesn't deserve my friendship and doesn't deserve existence and I'm a piece of shit for chasing him off but he's a piece of shit for not saying anything and ugh, I hate him Mark."

Mark widened his eyes and instinctually scooped the smaller boy closer, wrapping his arms around him with care. They sat like that for a few heartbeats, Jack sitting in Mark's lap with his face pressed into his shoulder, until Jack calmed down a little. "I hate your friends, too," he mumbled.

"They're not my friends, and I wholeheartedly agree." Mark rubbed Jack's back. "They replaced me with Felix. I mean, no offence, but I don't think Felix has ever even played a sport."

"Nope. They stole my best friend and they probably did it on purpose just to get to you and me."

"Putting it that way," Mark drew on, "Who needs them if they're such assholes? We can manage without them."

Jack agreed. "We could be loners. Misfits."

"We could have our own adventures," Mark announced with a wistful look in his eye. "Who needs friends when you have a boyfriend?"

"A- w-what?" Jack widened his eyes and Mark staggered. He looked regretful for a moment, but only for a moment.

"Sorry," Mark mumbled, and Jack looked up so he could look into Mark's eyes, momentarily detaching his head from Mark's chest. 

"No, um, that's o-okay," Jack breathed. Mark's grip around him tightened and he rubbed his back. But Jack, curious, inquired him more. "Why'd you say that, though?" 

Mark looked hesitant but he still replied, and when he did it sent chills down Jack's spine. "Because we're not just friends, and you and I both know that."

"But we're not together."

"Not officially..," Mark drew in a breath. "I dunno. I don't want a title. Can we not have a title?"

Jack bit his lip. Something was bothering Mark, he knew, but he let it slide for now. "Okay. Let's just be Jack and Mark."

"Splendid," Mark agreed, and when he slightly ducked his head to connect his lips to Jack's the Irish boy felt a feeling similar to a shock of electricity running through his veins and soul and being. Mark detached his arms from around Jack and slid them up so they were now cradling his neck, and Jack had his hands softly against Mark's chest. Mark's eyes were closed and so were Jack's, but the Irishman opened them for only a short second and he saw a wetness around Mark's eyes. Immediately Jack's heart broke over and over again, like it always did around Mark, and he kissed him harder and with everything he had to make him stop crying.

When they pulled back they were both a combined mess, and Mark was going to wipe his eyes. Jack reached up and gently pushed his hands away, wiping the area around his eyes for him. Mark took a slow breath, drawing it inwards past his lips and he exhaled with the same even pace. He took Jack's hand in his own, kissing his knuckles gently. Then they heard a noise.

The front door opened and closed, and there were footsteps. Jack regretfully pulled a little away from Mark and in a few moments Jack's bedroom door was open, his mother poking her head through the crack. Jack hoped she didn't notice his swollen lips or red cheeks, and apparently she didn't, because all she did was smile and say, "How was your day?"

"It was fine," Jack said, silently wanting her to go away.

She paused for a moment, looked at Mark, and smiled again. "Well, I'll leave you two to yourselves. I'll be out getting groceries, I'll be back in about an hour." And then she closed the door and she was gone.

Jack turned back to Mark. And when their eyes connected, the fire in them started up again. Jack didn't know why, but he just felt like he needed to be around Mark, like the way the earth orbits the sun. Like he was his medicine, or his drug, rather. But Mark was his, and as they pulled each other closer, for a moment everything just felt right.