You're Up Awfully Late {Septiplier}

Just for the Slip

Despite the fact that he is hunched over a sink, back to the door as he scrubs his hands, Jack knows who opens the door to come inside. He barely even glances over his shoulder when strong arms wrap around his waist, pressing the two bodies together.

"Mark..." the Irishman warns, too aware of the public nature of their meeting.

"Shhh," Mark coos, pressing a kiss into the back of Jack's neck. "How was your meet and greet?"

Jack considers fight, considers pulling away. But, Mark's warmth has already seeped into his muscles, his scent filling his nose with the most wonderful fragrance. He turns off the sink, forgetting about his wet hands, and leans into the American.

"Good," he offers, placing a hand on the one around him. "You know I love meeting the fans. They're just... god, Mark, they make all the craziness worth it. Getting to meet all these people whose lives who've touch, all the money in the world can't replace that."

Mark nods, unable to put his own feelings into words. The bond between YouTuber and fans is a delicate, complex connection. It's far easier to feel it rather than speak.

"How was your meet and greet?" Jack asks.

"Wonderful," Mark replies. "So wonderful, in fact, I even got a gift."

"I hope it was something creepy," Jack teases.

The raven chuckles but shakes his head. A hand leaves the Irishman's waist to fish through his pocket, snatching whatever he received earlier. A second later, Mark has pulled back, pulling cold metal around Jack's neck: a necklace.

As Mark secures the necklace, Jack picks up the little pendant, puzzle piece. He smiles at the engraving on the shining surface: Mark. The American fits Jack into his arms again, pulling his own pendent from his shirt to fall across Jack's shoulder. Engraved into it is Sean.

"Oh god, these are so gay," Jack chuckles, fingers rubbing the smooth metal.

"I think they're cute," Mark smiles.

Mark eases the piece from the other's fingers, putting the broken edge together with his own half. The connected prices shine in the light, their names standing out.

"Yeah, maybe it's a little gay," Mark agrees, giving Jack a peck on the cheek. "But I like them."

Jack turns his body to catch Mark in a more proper kiss, but his phone buzzes before he can find lips. With a huff, he digs it from his pocket to find a message.

Felix: Yooooo get your sorry asses to the stage bro

"Felix is summoning us," Jack explains with a roll of his eyes.

Mark gives a small shake of his head but motions for Jack to lead them anyway. The Irishman leaves the bathroom, strolling through a rather empty backstage. They spot Felix from quite a distance, though not quickening their pace. The Swede is already with Ken, though the American looks a moment from bolting.

"How long does it take to piss?" Felix grumbles, attitude sour.

"About as long as it takes you to blow dry your hair," Jack counters.

Felix frowns. "Straight guys blow dry their hair too," he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't get him started," Ken sighs.

"What's wrong with the happy couple?" Mark attempts, trying to lighten the mood.

"Creative differences," Ken answers, looking over to the grumpy blonde. "Princess didn't get his way."

Felix huffs dramatically, sending a glare towards Ken. He releases a long sigh, loosing his shoulders and dropping his arms to his side. "Let's just have a good panel."

The clock hits the hour, and the four men are rushed onto the stage by the crew. Stepping out into the blinding lights and roaring crowd, Felix turns into the bright, smiling face he is know for, already winking and blowing kisses to the crowd.

There are four chairs arranged in the stage, and Felix is the first to sit. The three others follow, Ken having taken a seat farthest from the Swede. Before the applause has died, Felix is already reaching into a glass box, filled with folded paper, beside his chair.

"Okay, okay that's enough," Felix laughs at the roaring crowd. "I could still suck, you know. Never said this panel was going to be good."

The crowd booms with laughter, the packed audience feeding into every word.

With a picked paper between his fingers, Felix continues, "So I asked you bros on YouTube to send in suggestions for what I should do during my panel. These little slips of paper are all of the suggestions I got. We're just going to pick them and see what we have to do."

The audience buzzes with excitement as Felix's unfolds the paper. He takes a second to read it silently before looking to the man beside him, Jack.

"Jack!" the Swede shouts, earning a jump and snap of the head from the Irishman. "Out of the people on this stage, Marry, Fuck, Kill? Go!"

"Uhm," Jack begins, trying to think up reasons behind his gut reaction. "Marry Ken because his beard is awesome. Kill you because you're a tool. Fuck Mark because-"

Jack pauses suddenly, pulling the words back from the edge of his lips. Fuck Mark because he's really good at it. He almost slipped. It was on the tip of his tongue.

Jack's face turns beet red, earning whistles and laughs from the audience. He chuckles, recovering, "Fuck Mark because we could sell the sex tape for millions."

Jack can feel Mark's eyes on him, but he refuses to glance over. He's easy to ignore considering Ken is laughing so hard he may puke, and Felix's glare has returned, centered on the green haired man.

"Well fuck you too, you potato," Felix responds, balling the paper and throwing it at the Irishman.

Jack catches it easily, rolling his eyes with a chuckle. "You asked."