He Talks Too Much ~ Septiplier

11

"God, I hate the snow." Jack grumbled darkly as he took another sip of his coffee, wrapping his bare hand tightly around the cup for warmth. He'd been an absolute idiot and worn the stupid piece of shit jacket that his Ma bought him last year. For summer. He was absolutely freezing.

Although, to be fair, at the time of choosing his outfit he'd been too busy fretting over Mark to think about the weather forecast.      

Too late now, he thought grumpily, shivering.

Beside him, Mark rolled his eyes, an eyebrow raised. "Oh, c'mon, Jack. The weather? Of all things that's what you're starting this off with?" He asked with amusement, handing Jack a brown paper bag, heavy with food.

They were casually walking down the sidewalk not far from Jack's apartment building, edging the boundaries of some memorial park Jack couldn't remember the name of. A light dusting of snow fell around them as the energetic thrum of New York City life continued to fly past in the background, the morning sun just peeking out over the tall buildings.

Jack glared at him, but from his expression Mark obviously didn't take it seriously. "You got a problem with that?" He asked, trying to keep his tone teasing. It was difficult to keep reminding himself to appear relaxed when his body was thrumming with tension, terrified that Mark could see on his face that he would be writing all this down later. That this wasn't really him, a stupid act put on for money.

There was a special place reserved in hell for people like him, Jack was sure of it.

Fortunately the American simply shrugged, taking a sip out of his own coffee. "I'd have thought you were a bit more interesting than that."

"Hey, if you've got something better, please feel free to share it with the class." The Irishman shrugged, one eyebrow arched in challenge. "Because in case you've forgotten, I'm not here to keep you entertained. I'm here for breakfast." To emphasis his point Jack held up the paper bag in his left hand and gave it a little shake.

Mark snorted. "Oh, so you're just using me for free food then. Is that how it is?" He asked with amusement, leading the younger man over to where there was a small bench, sheltered from the snow by a tall wooden structure obviously built for the job.

Immediately Jack plonked himself down on the sturdy looking bench and shoved his hand into the bag with a smirk. "Obviously." After a few seconds he came up with one steaming bagel, spilling over with crispy bacon strips and oozing melted cheese.

Jesus Christ it smelled amazing.

Mark grinned at the wide eyed look Jack sent his way, grabbing the bag from his hand to take out his own bagel as he sat down beside the Irishman. "What? They're my favourite. I thought you'd like something hot when the day was turning out so cold. Didn't know if you had work or not so...it was kinda a split-second decision, y'know."

At that, Jack nodded in acknowledgement before taking quite a large bite out of his breakfast, mostly to stop himself from staring slack-jawed at Mark's adorably flushed cheeks. Jesus that was actually thoughtful of him and Jack wasn't quite sure what to do with that. The fact that Mark bought him breakfast at all was astonishing.

And kind of charming, he had to admit.

The American snorted softly as he watched Jack chew his way through his mouthful, his own bagel left untouched on his lap and Jack froze as a thought occurred to him, swallowing painfully before giving Mark a knowing look.

"It's poisoned, isn't it? You've brought me out here to kill me." He gasped in faux horror, surprised at how easy the casual banter came to him around Mark. Jack found it weirdly nice to have...well not a friend exactly but, someone to talk to that wasn't from work or at home. Someone new. "I should've known!"