Septiplier Oneshots

Starlight

     The draw of three am television crackles through the speakers. The window allowing slivers of the moon to cast light across the two men tangled together on the couch.

       "Why did you start calling me starlight?" Jack whispers as he traces his fingers through Marks scalp.

       "One night, as we sat on the grass, I looked up at your eyes," Mark begins. "and I don't know what it was, but I couldn't tell where your eyes and the stars began. It was all one and it was so beautiful,"

       Jack smiles, resting his head against Marks arm. "You remind me of a soft warm wind,"

       Mark snorts. "Warm wind?"

      Smacking his arm, Jack laughs. "Yeah douche bag. Warm, soft, wind,"

      "Fine. Why?" He asks, a light smile on his lips.

      "I'm not sure but it's just that your give this sensation of something safe and I guess the wind has always been something safe to me. Familiar, kind, loving," he finishes and Mark grabs his hand, kissing along his wrist.

     "That was as beautiful as your eyes,"

     "I'd like to think it was," Jack says, scooting down so that they are close to side by side. Marks head rested between the crook of his elbow. His own feet tucked under Marks legs.

     Eyes cast to the window Jack rest his head down against Marks chest. "If I could stay like this forever, I would,"

     "Me too starlight. Me too,"