You're Up Awfully Late {Septiplier}

Just for the Secret

A vibrating phone forces Jack from his slumber, his head pounding with every buzz. He groans, pawing for the phone. He grabs a pair of pants from the floor, pulling out the device and tossing the jeans away. Accepting the call, he presses the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he croaks.

"Jack?" Felix asks from the other end. "My god you sound like shit. Why are you still with Mark? Did your flight get delayed again?"

"What are you taking about?" Jack moans, rubbing at his eyes.

"You do realize this is Mark's phone, right?" Felix questions. "My flight got delayed another two hours. I was thinking Mark and I could get lunch. Pretty sure his flight doesn't take off for a while. What about yours?"

Jack pulls the phone away from his face, glancing at it to find it is in fact Mark's. He catches sight of the time. He gives a gasp, nearly dropping the phone. His flight leaves an hour.

"Gotta go Felix!" Jack nearly shouts, jumping out of the bed. The phone flips from his hand, flying across the bed and smacking Mark in the face. The Irishman gives a bit of a squeal, forgetting he was sharing a bed with Mark and finding the cold air wrap around his naked skin when the comforter falls away.

Mark groans, blinking rapidly and pushing the phone away. Jack pulls the blanket from the bed, to cover himself, yanking them from the American. Mark snaps up, alert, grabbing the comforter when the cold air finds his bare form. They tug the blanket for a second, before both are able to press it over their lap, bringing their eyes up to meet.

"What the fook?" Jack breathes, glancing down at Mark's bare chest. His cheeks turn a furious red.

Jack feels more awake from the shock. He can feel the ache in his back, and the dried sweat on his forehead. His eyes find wine colored bruises littering Mark's shoulders. He runs a hand through his hair, and it is a complete mess, knots and tangles. A wave of guilt twists his gut, and a fresh set of tears collects into the corner of his eyes.

"Jack," Mark begins, stretching a hand forward as if approaching a terrified dog. Jack takes a step back, his back hitting the chilly wall, shaking his head furiously.

"Jack, let's just talk about this," Mark offers, voice soft and calming.

Jack continues to shake his head, tripping over his own feet as he tries to move farther from the American. He drops the blanket to rush into the bathroom, slamming behind him. Mark calls for him, but he doesn't dare respond.

The harsh light of the bathroom shines against Jack's pale skin. Dark, purple bruises litter his neck, shoulders, and chest, a stark contrast to his complexion. He panics, pressing his fingers to the stains as if he can rub them off.

Mark knocks gently on the bathroom door. "Jack, please come out. I've got you some clothes. I'm sorry, okay? Just please come out."

The green haired man opens the door a crack, peeking out to grab the clothes in the raven's arms. He closes the door quickly after he snatches them, dressing in the fresh clothes Mark provided him. He gives a relieved sigh at the blue hoodie Mark placed in the stack, as the garment covers the dark spots on his neck. He runs his hands through his hair, to fix it, desperately aware of the ticking time.

Jack dashes out from the bathroom, finding Mark dresses himself in front of the mirror. The younger pulls on the blanket, looking for his phone. It falls on the floor, and he seizes it, groaning at the time.

"My flight leaves in forty minutes," Jack tells Mark, pawing through the clothes on the floor. He grabs a few of them, which may or may not be his, and shoves them into his suitcase.

Mark attempts to help, tossing Jack a few clothes Jack's way. Jack forced his suitcase down, tugging on the zipper until it is strained into closed. Mark grabs the remaining clothes, tossing them inside his luggage. Sitting on the overstuffed suitcase, he closes his as well, a beat behind his friend.

Jack tosses Mark the key card, who catches it easily midair, tugging on his shoes. The younger drops his luggage onto the floor, wheeling towards the door. He pulls it open, stepping out before pausing.

Glancing back to the raven, Jack almost whispers, "Please, don't tell anyone."

Mark nods without a word, winding a scarf around his stained neck.

Jack rushes out, calling for the woman down the hall to hold the elevator.