Septiplier one shots

The Fullfillment of Warmth

By StarryEyedBoxes

Most nights were horrendous.
Jack had always believed that he was destined to continuously suffer the fate of an empty bed. When he would rest his body for the night, he would run a bare arm over the sheets, enveloping himself in the cold fabric that hid with him in the shadows. There was never any warmth on that side. It never failed to be a tough reminder of how alone Jack often felt.
Not only had he kept most of his friends and family at arm's length most of his life, he often enveloped himself in an odd sense of self indulgence- slinking into the shower for endless hours, eating dessert treats until he was undoubtedly nauseated, meticulously blocking out the sun with closed curtains and shut doors. Jack would return home from his formal responsibilities, only to continue to leave his entire apartment in the darkness as he shucked his clothes into a heap on the floor and bury himself underneath the blankets. Sometimes he would leave his stereo on, soft melodies flowing through the bedroom. Sometimes Jack would just stare at the empty space in the sheets in silence.
It felt like an endless cycle. Many, many times the young man would watch the sun fall below his window, only to watch it come back up again. Those nights were his least favorite.
He hated battling the moving shadows that cast themselves across his creaky floors with his mind. He despised the bustling noise that came forth with the new day but also loathed the utter silence that followed after the beginning of the night. Jack's mind was fairly used to this by now, but it didn't make these frustrating times any easier.
He would even stare at his coffee when he brewed it to help calm him down. The dark warmth used to make Jack drowsy, so making some to help him sleep was never uncommon. What was truly uncommon about it was the trick actually working.
Those nights with empty sheets were awfully daunting. He remembered them frequently, and sometimes, when he wakes, he often expects it to be absent of any warmth like he always recalled. But nowadays, when he opens his eyes and immediately reaches out to run his hands over the cold fabric, he often meets an obstacle. The object in his way was not particularly an object- it was actually a person.
Jack would always smile every time his shaking hands felt Mark underneath them, the comfort and security that he continuously craved materialized. Mark would grumble underneath his companion's grasp, his eyes shifting behind closed eyelids and wrinkling slightly in the corners, but he would simply curl up into the embrace, sighing happily when he felt Jack's body loosen as the tension left his muscles.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Jack would breathe, his voice hoarse from being dry. "Everything's just fine."
Mark would nuzzle his face into the crook of the other's neck, pressing quaint kisses on those collarbones he loved so much. When Jack would hum a comfortable noise, he would press one more kiss onto the hollow of his throat and he'd smile afterwards.
"I love you, you know that right?" He would ask with closed eyes and a tender voice.
Jack never failed to adore the sleepiness that came with such a question. The whispers he would listen to behind his closed doors and curtains were endlessly enchanting. The smile that would appear on his face from it was truly sincere.
He remembered when he would hesitate to respond to his lover's inquiry, but now, he had the ability to respond with ease.
"Of course I do. I love you, too."
"I'm not going anywhere, okay?"
Jack would first hum in response before answering. "Promise?"
"I promise, Jackaboy. You feeling better?"
He would hum again. "Yeah."
"Ready to go back to sleep now?"
"Yeah."
And Jack would hold Mark close, his arms safely wrapped around his lover's strong hips as he rested his chin comfortably on messy black hair. The scent was purely Mark- cinnamon perhaps. But, as always, it lulled Jack back into a deep slumber, his empty sheets now filled with warmth, love, and comforting companionship.
These nights were his favorite.