Septiplier one shots

Silence

Written by starryeyedboxes

Mark heard loud noises as he approached his best friend's front door. As he tilted his head slightly out of confusion, he heard a few more shouts echo inside and throughout the house.
Quickly using his copy of Jack's key, he slammed the door open and ran inside, tossing his messenger bag on the couch and his keys on the coffee table in the middle of the room. He followed the screaming and as his mind thoroughly questioned what it was, he pressed the bedroom door open.
Mark was met with his friend throwing his bookshelf down the ground, the contents flying across the carpet. Jack's face was ultimately red and it was obvious he had been crying, but it almost froze Mark in his tracks. Jack's bedroom was a disaster.
Posters and pictures were stripped to the floor, clothes haphazardly strewn across the area, and all the furniture tossed in odd positions. Even the bed had seen better days as the comforters and sheets were thrown aside, creating an even bigger mess.
Mark wasn't sure what happened, but for a few moments, his companion hadn't even noticed he entered. Jack quickly pulled one of the curtains off their rings, the metal bar ripped directly from the wall. In that instant, Mark stepped in and tackled Jack, his arms wrapping around him.
"What are you doing?!"
"Let me go!" He wailed, desperately struggling as his fingers tightly clasped the torn fabric. "Fucking get off of me!"
Mark ignored his words and pulled him to the ground where he tightened his grasp while Jack did nothing but thrash about. In the next several minutes, like he had predicted, the thoroughly angry man began to tire himself out, his hyperventilation overcoming his desire to wreak havoc. Soon enough, Jack was sobbing hysterically, his body shaking, Mark's hands rubbing his back soothingly.
"What's wrong, Jackaboy?"
"I'm sick of being useless," he managed to wail, his voice awfully raspy, likely from the previous screaming. "So fucking sick of it."
"Why do you feel that way?" Mark questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. He rested his chin on top of Jack's head, letting his exhausted friend curl up into his body. "What could possibly make you feel this way?"
"I can't do shit, Mark. I'm stuck in my fucking apartment all day making YouTube videos, and I love doing it, but I feel like I'm not doing shit for myself anymore. I love doing this more than anything, but I miss drums. I miss fucking seeing people."
"You see me."
"Besides you."
A few moments of silence passed between them, and Mark was almost at a loss of words. He didn't know what to say in this situation. What could he possibly say to make it all better?
He offered numerous times to help Jack out if he wanted to do any of the things he just mentioned, but he was often met with strong refusal out of his companion's guilt. Mark of course never minded, but he honestly hoped that one day Jack would actually take him up on his offer.
He would pick his best friend up off of the floor later and make sure he got something to eat. He'd probably take him out to look at drumsets at the local music store after. He already decided. He needed to help. He just had to.
For a moment he pressed his lips against Jack's grey-streaked hair, and paused, waiting for the confused backlash. But it never came. In fact, Jack nuzzled up closer, his own soft lips pressing a kiss back on Mark's collarbones. A deep pink rose to his face.
He let Jack cry for a few more moments, desperately clinging onto his flannel while they sat on the floor surrounded by utter chaos. It felt like they were the calm of the storm, and Mark sighed happily, feeling the body pressed against him, the two in lovely silence.