Hold You Like I'm Going To Lose You (Septiplier)

God This Is All There Is

Warning for the preparation of a suicide attempt.

The random fan is literally just that; a random fan.

Though what if it was the one that gave Mark the bag of gifts for Jack awhile back that would be neat.

Jack felt disgusting.

It was his own damn fault, he thought, for saying yes in the first place and starting the fucking problem when he should've just stayed in his own comfort zone, told Mark that sorry, he actually wasn't ready...

But instead, he'd said yes and even though he could tell Mark knew he didn't want too, was begging in his head for Mark to not take advantage of it, Mark had roughly pulled him close and...

Jack squirmed at the thought, grimace stuck on his lips.

He'd said he loved Mark.

It wasn't a lie, but he was certainly a bit afraid and a little angry.

Mark had completely taken advantage of him.

And Jack felt disgusting.

"Jus' as Ace said... Slut..." Jack mumbled as he stared at his reflection blearily, wiping away the remaining tears.

He felt mentally exhausted, slowly climbing into the bed.

Mark and his bed...

Jack shuddered lightly, pulling the blanket close to him and forcing himself to forget about it.

Jack just needed to forgive Mark.

He knew that Mark loved Jack, even if he'd screwed up and caused...

Jack also knew that even as disgusting and angry as he felt, he still loved Mark too.

Tiredly, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into the pillow, quiet tears still slipping down his cheeks.

He cried himself to sleep, a few broken sobs breaking the quiet.

Mark staggered to his feet finally, glancing down at his arms a second time.

They still ached, his veins throbbing with the need to bleed.

Mark couldn't help a tired, broken laugh at the accidental rhyme he'd thought of, before he started to slowly waddle toward the bathroom.

Mark was exhausted, but not only was Jack in their bed and Mark didn't want to bother him, it also wasn't just in the physical sense.

It took too long to finally get to the bathroom.

He'd stayed sitting there on the couch for hours by then, he realized as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time.

1:27 AM.

Mark's brain felt fried, as he rubbed his forehead.

Where were Bob and Wade...?

He thought he had heard them during the time he'd been staring off into the space and skipping dinner just the same as Jack.

He thought he remembered hearing Bob ask what was wrong, but Mark wasn't sure if he'd answered.

Hell, Mark wasn't even sure if that was actually what happened.

His mind kept replaying the mistake he'd made, kept replaying the sound of Jack whimpering for Mark to stop...

The sound had snapped him back to reality, reminding him that it was wrong, that he shouldn't have done that...

But it had been too late.

His mind had come back to him too late, and now Jack hated him.

The thought caused Mark's chest to ache.