Between Us [Septiplier AU]

2.4

Jack slammed his hands against his desk, taking a sharp inhale of breath. His eyes looked wild, grin stretching from ear to ear. Sure, his motion was to signal he had something urgent to say, but it absolutely scared the shit out of Mark. It was late for him anyways, and risking his precious sleeping time just to Skype the goon was probably a bad idea. But, Jack was online, and absolutely willingly accepted the call when Mark popped up crying and sobbing. Jack hated seeing someone like Mark so upset. Especially if it was over himself. Poor Mark never knew what to truly think of himself. He could be the most egotistical bastard one moment and before you know it, the poor guy is lowering himself from his high horse and trying to bury his own grave. Sometimes he just didn't believe in himself enough. That's why Jack was here. To make him laugh and smile again, prod and nag and make horrible jokes. Mark was a sucker for his Irish friend's impractical jokes.

"Dude! I just got the best idea." Mark rubbed his face, the redness from his tears fading. His damp face was drying, and his tear trails were disappearing. Thanks to Jack's constant humor. "I swear to god, if you tell me I need to go kill the prick who said anything—" Jack thoughtfully hummed before shaking his head. "Um, no. You threw that idea out ages ago. I was thinking, something you and I could do?" Mark froze, bringing his hand from his face cautiously. He narrowed his eyes at the green-haired fool. "Jack..." Jack smirked devilishly, raising a brow. His chin rested in his hand as he leaned forward. "Skype sex sounds really cool right about now."

"Do you always have fucking on the brain? Jesus Christ!"

Jack simply laughed.

"Not always but usually. Especially with you. You're special." Mark rolled his eyes with a groan, messing with his hair. "Loving someone doesn't mean you have to screw them every time you get the chance." He sighed. He honestly wished Jack wasn't the way he was. He'd been talking to the loser for almost six weeks now. He was still the same. Always in Mark's pants in his imagination. Hell, two days ago Jack even said he'd had some pretty vulgar and dirty dreams of Mark. He even tried to explain it. But Mark was too taken aback to listen. He just kept saying he shouldn't else he'd delete the Irish bastard from his contacts if he kept trying to explain in grotesque and obscene detail about "how hardcore he fucked Mark." Whether or not Jack was telling the truth or just trying to get Mark to turn beet red, he probably wouldn't know. He could probably say right up it definitely might be the first guess.

Jack warmly smiled, features soft and caring. His eyes were tender and glowing the stunning sea of sapphire Mark always was able to drown himself in. He couldn't hold back his blush. "Love isn't always sex. I know. It's wanting to always talk to you. It's making every excuse to talk to you I can. It's wanting to hear your voice. Wanting to hear your thoughts. Imagining your voice if you're texting me. It's wanting to be the one to make you feel better. It's being the one who doesn't judge you for anything, allows you to cry your heart out on me. I'd die to be the shoulder you cry on. I'd kill to be able to wake up every damn morning and know you belong to me. It's feeling happy and loving how much you glow and smile and move your hands when you talk about something you love. It's watching you make so many jokes, listening to you giggle every time you pull laughter from me. It's feeling heart broken every time the light in your absolutely beautiful eyes die when you think you're rambling, annoying me. It's when my heart literally throbs in heartache when you say I'm sorry and hang your head. That's what love truly is. Loving someone means you want and admire everything about them. You want to be a part of their life...

"Love is what I have for you, Mark. But you don't believe me." Jack's face turned wistful at his last sentence. He sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his desk chair. Mark wanted to believe him. So badly. He was beginning to rely on Jack. Relying on him for company, relying on him for reminders. Jack always reminded him "stay hydrated and please don't be drinking. You know you can't drink anymore. It will kill you. So no more of that and more water. Oh, and don't forget to eat lunch, Mark! You always say you're not hungry but that's lies. Lies, I say. Lies!"

Jack meant the world to Mark.

But Mark wouldn't admit it. Not out loud at least.

He wasn't about to go through the crippling agony of losing someone again.

Jack sighed when Mark didn't reply. He laughed, "I pour my heart out to you and all you do is stare? That's rude, babe."

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. "Well sorry. What do you expect me to say?" His frown returned, brows creased stressfully. "I'll just keep telling you... I don't know or trust you enough to love you... As well as..." Mark narrowed his eyes, swallowing. "I already have a significant other." Jack's own smile wavered and went away at those words. Mark knew how much it seemed to kill Jack every time he mentioned that. They both wondered when the facade would just end.

Jack looked over the half-Korean's face. Something in him told him the look in his eyes wasn't false. Something was convincing him that Mark was lying. But he didn't know what about. All he could do was nod and sigh. "You're lying Mark. Something you just said was false. But I won't push it. Just because I love you." Jack pulled his grin back. Mark looked away. All he got in turn was a hushed mhm. It was then Mark yawned, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Jack chuckled softly. "Sleepy, baby?" Mark never failed to blush at the nicknames, Jack does it out of habit at this point. He nodded, slumping in his chair. His arms folded in to hug himself. "Yeah...A little..." The Irish leant forward, looking at Mark's sleepy composure. He beamed at the way his eyelids were dropping, giggling at how hard Mark was fighting sleep. He was just staring at the ground tiredly. "Hang up Mark. It's late. You ought to be in the bed."

Mark hissed, rubbing his eyes and straightening his posture. "I'm fine. I don't wanna stop talking yet. What if I think about it again?"

Jack crossed his arms over his desk with no reply. He didn't much get why Mark had the frequent nightmares like he did. He never really actually told him what they were about. But he was always so shaken up and in tears when he talked to Jack. He done this weird thing with his hands too when he was upset. He started slowly clutching and unclutching them. As if he was trying to hold or grab something that wasn't even there. Jack wished he was there. That he was that something that was there for him to lock hold on. Jack wished he was capable of making it all better. He wanted to be Mark's best friend, but he also wanted much more; if it wasn't already obvious.

"You won't Mark... We talked. You never have them after we talk, do you not? You'll be fine, love." He gave Mark a reassuring smile, nodding. "Just...imagine something nice before you sleep. Don't think of the bads in life. Think of the goods. Remember what we talked about. Sleep on a positive note. Good Lord knows you need it..." He sighed and shook his head. Mark responded by nodding. He was staring at what seemed to be the corner of the room, eyes half-lidded and nearly asleep on his own feet. As adorable as Jack seen him while he was this way, it was bothersome knowing he was just that exhausted.

"Alright... Goodnight, Jackie."

"Goodnight, love..."