You're Up Awfully Late {Septiplier}

Just for the Departure

Despite everything that happened, the six men all stand together in the lobby, waiting for their taxis, in the bright morning sun. Each looks absolutely horrible, like they may have slept an hour between the six of them.

Felix is bundled up in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. A hat is pulled over his hair. His eyes are still a little red, as if he only recently stopped crying. It doesn't appear as if he has showered, but then again, neither has anyone else. His lips are pressed into a firm line. He hasn't even glanced at Ken, positioning himself very near Bob.

Ken has been on his phone since the moment he arrived in the lobby. Constantly tapping on the bright screen, he has given none of the men the time of day. He's fully dressed, but his eyelids look heavy, forcing him to give them a rub every few minutes.

Bob stays near Felix, still casting sad eyes at the Swede. He murmurs to the blonde every now and again, too quiet for the rest of the group to hear. He is sipping on a large coffee, still yawning between drinks.

Wade has taken a seat on a soft chair near the exit, trying his best not to fall back asleep. He wishes his fiancée was here, as she can always cheer him up, but she returned to Ohio the night after Mark's panel. He doesn't know how much he will tell her of the events at the convention, but he can't wait to see her regardless.

Jack and Mark are in similar appearance of distress. Jack's hair is a complete mess, unable to be covered even by the hat on his head. His hoodie is crumbled and the shirt underneath it is not his own, though that was intentional. He is deeply missing the necklace, wondering if it's still laying on the floor of Mark's hotel room. He forgot it on his way out, only recalling the cold pendant when he moved to subconsciously rub it between his fingers. He's too tired to be mad at Felix, but it certainly doesn't help his mood. It does hurt a bit, though, every time he catches sight of his name around Mark's neck.

Mark's clothes don't even match, a bright shirt accompanied with pastel shorts. His glasses sit crooked on his nose, his hair sticking up from how many times Jack ran his fingers through it. He forgot his belt, forcing him to tug his pants up every once in a while, and he wasn't able to find a pair of clean socks when he rushed to dress and pack. He scratches at his stubble covered cheek, needing some type of movement to keep him from dropping to the floor.

When the taxis finally arrive, Ken is the first to leave, without saying a word. He slides into the first car alone, inviting no one to go with him.

Mark motions for the others to go next. Bob, Wade, and Felix all move to the second, lugging heavy suitcases into the trunk. Bob and Felix crawl into the back, though Wade waits for the last two men to pass.

"Hey, Jack," Wade calls, having the Irishman stop next to him.

Jack pauses, casting a disinterested look to Wade. He feels filthy, tired, and a moment from a break. He has no interest in revisiting anything that happened last night, and he fears Wade will dare say anything to bring him to tears. He just wants to be with Mark, hiding beneath the covers, giggling softly when the American's fingers ghost over his sides.

Wade fishes for something in his pocket, a second removed from losing Jack completely. But, when a glint of morning sun catches metal, the Irishman's interest sparks. Wade pulls Jack's necklace from his pocket, the engraved pendant on a new chain. The smaller man's mouth falls open, unsure if he can trust his eyes this early. Jack can't believed Wade remember the necklace, thought it was important enough to grab on his way out.

"I figured we were probably missing this," Wade explains. "And I always pack a few extra necklace chains, on account of how often Molly snaps hers when we're away."

Wade reaches around Jack, expertly clashing the necklace blind. He chuckles at the green haired man's surprised face, a true smile on his lips. Jack finally closes his mouth, taking the pendant between his fingers.

"Wade, this is... just, thank you," Jack says, not knowing how to properly express his gratitude.

Wade chuckles. "It's no problem, man."

Jack pulls him in for a hug, making it quick at the grumble of the taxi driver. He thanks Wade again, letting the taller man slide into the car with his friends.

Mark and Jack move to the last, suitcases filling the trunk. They sit side by side in the car, holding hands the moment their seatbelts are on. They grab onto each other a bit tighter than usual, having no idea what their future will hold. But, Jack feels better, now that his free fingers can find the engraved pendant again.

It feels like a long drive to the airport, but that may just be the dread. The commute dissolves any happiness from the necklace, turning the memento into a memorial. The taxi driver doesn't try to start an conversation, and the two men are in no mood to talk.

Jack watches other cars fly by from his window, wanting to stare at Mark but afraid that would make everything harder. He's glad he stole one of Mark's shirts, wondering if Mark will let him keep it even if they are done for good. He hopes so.

Mark is doing all he can to keep himself distracted, mentally planning his next big skit for his channel. It helps, for the most part, but he can't deny how comforting it is to have Jack's hand in his, no matter how hard he tries to pretend it is not the only thing keeping him together.

Their taxi lost the others in the commute, so they pull up to the airport alone. Mark takes out his wallet, handing the driver cash for the ride. Jack looks to him, a second from mentioning that they can split the charge.

"In case I never get to take you on that date I promised," Mark explains, smiling sadly.

Jack nods, stiff.

The two men exit the car, retrieving the luggage from the trunk. The taxi speeds away as they approach the sliding doors of the airport, purposefully walking slow. Jack breathes a sigh of relief when Mark steps to the side of the doors, not forcing them inside just yet.

"Okay, Jack," Mark begins. "This is it." He offers the green haired man his hand. "It was... nice."

"It was very nice," Jack agrees, unsure of what to say. He doesn't want to say goodbye. He can't quite accept it's over.

Jack takes Mark's hand, releasing a gasp when Mark pulls him close. Without a trace of resistance, their lips find each other's, kissing tenderly in the florescent lights of the airport's entrance.

They kiss for as long as they can, holding on to the other tightly, until finally they must break away. Their foreheads stay pressed together, hands on each other's cheeks.

"I love you, Jack," Mark whispers, having so much more to say but forcing it away from his lips.

"I love you, Mark," Jack breathes. "I love you so, so very much."

"Promise me you'll tell me if you take it off?" Mark asks, eyes on the fixed necklace laying against Jack's chest.

"Of course," Jack whispers, surprised at how, even in the artificial light, his own name still looks so nice around Mark's neck.

Though it hurts him to do so, Mark gives Jack only a quick kiss, pulling himself away. He grabs his suitcase, and Jack does the same. They walk past the sliding doors, into the airport. After only a few steps on the white tile, they separate: without a word and without a glance.