You're In Awfully Early {Septiplier}

Just Too Ready

Jack steps off plane, yawning wide at the early hour. He attempts to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, the jet lag from Ireland weighing heavily on his shoulders. He glances at his watch, a three hour layover leaving him in Cincinnati.

He moves quickly through the airport, nervous about time. He fears the questions he may have to answer from Mark if he misses his flight back to LA, rushing to avoid his plan disintegrating at something so mundane.

The Irishman flags down a taxi, his dark hoodie a bit heavy in the early morning Ohio spring. Able to slide into a car, he hands the man a slip of paper with the address, praying the location is familiar to the native. Thankfully, they zoom off without a question.

Fingers drumming nervously against his thigh, Jack watches the city pass by. Restless, he swallows a bit hard, palms turning clammy as he forces himself not to glance at the time. He tries to remember some of the buildings and landmarks from his previous visits with Mark.

The city is huge, sprawling across a seeming limitless horizon. It's far from the places Jack remembers from his own childhood, about as foreign as the moon. He thinks he recognizes a few places from pictures or stories, but it could just his mind playing tricks on him, trying to keep his intestines from tying themselves into knots.

The sun has only just barely begun to peak the head over the land, casting warm, yellow rays. The weather is sticky, especially inside the car, but Jack doesn't mind so much, used to LA heat at this point.

Trees dot the land far quicker than he would have guessed, buildings becoming smaller. Finally, they break from the urban sprawl, approaching beautiful hardwood trees. However, they turn before they can be greeted by the mighty woods.

The taxi pulls into the cemetery slowly, tires crunching the gravel. The man parks, announcing the fare for Jack. He pays the driver, giving him a heft tip to leverage his next request.

"Could you wait here?" Jack asks, glancing to the lines of tombstones. "I shouldn't be too long."

The drover, too, looks out the the sea of grave markers. He glances back at the pale brunette before nodding. He's rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette before Jack has slip from the car, but the Irishman doesn't mind too much.

Jack's eyes scan the rows upon rows of stones, his feet walking without a real direction. He's been here before, almost six months ago, and he curses himself for not making better mental notes.

He has only his feet to trust, his mind nearly blank as he walks through the aisles of stones, quickly reading each name. He seems to search for a while, his anxiety about time returning again, but finally, his eyes catch a little American flag stuck into the ground in a stone near a large, shady tree.

Jack's memories coming flooding back. He can remember sitting beneath that tree with Mark some summers ago, so close to the grave. Mark talked more about his father that day then he had ever before. Mark had a lot of memories, a lot of good and bad, each bringing tears to his eyes regardless. Jack smiles softly, his heart filling with fluttering love at the sweet remembrance of his boyfriend.

Jack walks slowly to the grave, heart jumping a few beats when the familiar name is engraved into the stone: Fischbach. The first name is only vaguely familiar, as Mark has never spoken it, but Jack knows it is the stone. Jack takes a deep breath, standing at a respectful distance from the engraved plaque.

"H-hello, Mr. Fischbach," Jack begins, voice cracking from his nerves. He takes another long breath, feeling silly for the way his stomach is doing summersaults.

"I'm here to ask a question," he tries, having thought quite a while about what he sound say. "Make a request, I suppose. But maybe I should introduce myself, huh? I don't believe you've really received such proper treatment. Mind if I sit?"

Jack gently lowers himself to the ground, sitting in the green grass. He pushes himself a bit closer, the words engraved on the stone standing out from this distance: a devoted husband, loving father, and decorated serviceman.

"I don't know if you remember, but I'm Jack," the brunette offers, crossing his legs. "Well, actually, it's Sean. I prefer Jack, but you can call me whichever you would like, sir."

Jack clears his throat, a small ball of anxiety collecting there. He wants to ask, get the question out of the way early, but it just doesn't feel right that way.

"I'm originally from Ireland, but I live with Mark in LA now. We both do YouTube, and I guess you could say we are pretty good at it. Good following, great fans- it really is a lot of fun. And it's even better when you have someone else to do the crazy challenges with right in your own home."

He laughs, though he feels a bit silly. He breaks his gaze away from the stone for a moment, watching the ways the leaves on the trees flutter in the soft breeze. It's peacefully, really. Not quite the place where nerves should be first on the mind.

"I'm going to be honest, Mark doesn't talk about you much. Well, can't talk about you. It's still... so painfully for him. I can see it in his eyes, even before his starts to tear up."

Jack vision blurs with salty tears at the image of his lover crumbling to tears, trying his best to stay strong while speaking of his beloved father. He never quite can, never can make it past a few sentences, and it breaks Jack's heart every time.

"He just loves you so much. It's still hard for him, knowing you are gone. He's okay though, I promise. He's doing really well in life."

His eyes examine the pretty red flowers growing in small soil patches around his stone. They're vibrant, with bright yellow centers. A beautiful sight framing the stone.

"I think we, together, are doing really, really well. We've been dating for almost four years. Our anniversary is actually coming up, right in the middle of a PAX convention. Of course, we did that to ourselves. We announced we were official dating at one."

Jack pauses for just a second, blowing out a long breath. He brushes his brown bangs from his forehead, hoping his hoodie isn't too casual. Maybe he should have dressed a bit nicer, out of respect at least.

"I... I'm here for your blessing, sir. I would love, more than anything, to marry Mark."

The confession feels amazing on his lips, relief washing over him when nothing unusual blooms from nature as punishment. He feels a bit more confident, talking a bit easier.

"I would like to propose to him on the stage at PAX. I know it's a bit cheesy, but Mark would love it. I know he wants the movement saved forever, captured from a million different angles. And, I'll be honesty, I do too. He's made me so happy, sir, and I really can't image my life without him. I hope you'll approve of my proposal to him."

Jack lets the silence hang for just a moment, breathing in the fresh air. He scoots a bit closer to the stone, able to touch it if he wishes. He reaches his hand forward, gently brushing his finger tips along the delicate petals of the prettiest flower in the bunch.

"I hope all this silence means yes," Jack chuckles, before turning serious again. "I know it may be a bit rude for me to ask, but could I take one of these flowers? Just one, of course. I promise, when we stop by around Mark's birthday, I'll bring one to replace it, okay? I think Mark would really enjoy having one when they have just bloomed so beautifully."

Jack runs his fingers down the stem, pushing them into the dirt to grab the flower closer to its root. He gives a gentle pull, and the red beauty pops from the ground, resting in his hand. He gently touches the petals again, insuring the flower isn't damaged. His free hand smooths the dirt, returning it to it's previous prestige.

"I promise I'll take good care of this flower. And Mark too. I love him, more than I thought I could ever love anyone. I... I hope you approve of us. Thank you for listening, Mr. Fischbach."

Jack pushes himself up front he grass, holding the flower gently in his palm. He gives a nod to the grave, a silent goodbye, before taking his beautiful flower back to the taxi, thinking all about the beautiful prize he has waiting for him at home.