You're Up Awfully Late {Septiplier}

Just for the Dispute

Though the sun has long set, the six men have only just made it back to the elevator. They shuffle inside, giving wide yawns.

"I'm starving," Jack mentions, his rumbling stomach reminding him that he skipped dinner.

"Me too," Mark agrees, his own stomach empty after today's events. "How about we all go out and grab something?"

Wade is the first to shake his head. "Sorry guys. I still have a video to record for tomorrow."

"Wade!" Mark draws. "You didn't prepare?"

"Come on, Wade!" Jack joins.

"Not that we should stop shaming Wade," Bob chimes in, "but I still have to edit a video. So I'm out."

"I'm exhausted," Ken mentions, yawning again. "I'm just going to get a pizza delivered to my room."

"Wow, what a bunch of losers," Mark mutters. "What about you, Felix?"

"I'm out," Felix replies simply, giving no further explanation.

"Well, I guess only the cool people will go out then," Jack decides. "Meet in the lobby in ten?"

"Sure thing," Mark replies as the elevator dings, the doors sliding open.

Felix, Mark, Bob, and Wade all leave, scattering to their respective rooms. With only Ken and Jack left, the Irishman looks over to the American, striking up conversation despite his crossed arms.

"Rough day?" Jack asks.

"You won't believe," Ken replies.

Silence falls over the small space as the Irishman considers what to say next. Clearly, the last thing Ken wants to do is talk, but Jack is too concerned to let it go.

"What was up with Felix today?" Jack tries as the doors slide open.

Ken shrugs, stepping from the elevator. "Just his typical mood swings. You know how he gets."

"Well," the green haired man draws, "normally there is a reason for them."

"Then why don't you ask him?" Ken snaps with a huff.

"Sorry," Jack breathes, almost on instinct.

Ken stops at his door, giving a small sighs. "No, don't apologize. It's not your fault I'm cranky. Or that Felix has an attitude, for that matter. It's just been a long day. Don't worry, it'll be better tomorrow. It's just something we need to sleep off, okay?"

Jack nods. "Okay."

"Night, Jack," Ken nods, pushing his door open.

Jack gives a small smile and a nod as a reply, turning before Ken disappears inside. He hears the door shut tightly behind him. And, despite everything Ken said, Jack passed his door, pushing open the one to the stairs instead.

Jack hops down the steps two and three at a time, leaving at the third floor. He strides down the hallway, searching the numbers as he struggles to recall which would be Felix's.

"Jack?" a voice calls.

The Irishman pauses, glancing over his shoulder. Mark is peering outside his door, eyebrow quirked and lips downturn.

"What are you doing?" Mark asks, tone knowing.

"Just going down to the lobby, of course," Jack lies, well enough to convince most. But not Mark.

"Jack," the American warns.

Jack frowns, backtracking to the open door. He follows the other inside. Door shut, Mark returns to getting ready, digging through his suitcase. But, he doesn't leave the conversation in the hallway.

"Where are you really going?" Mark asks.

"I was just going to check on Felix," Jack pouts, anticipating the other's response. "And I know I shouldn't stick my nose in it but they're our friends. And I just want everyone to have a good time at PAX."

"Jack," Mark sighs, looking to the Irishman. "You can't force everyone to get along. Or have mandatory fun."

"I know," Jack frowns, crossing his arms. "But if they need a mediator-"

"They need space, babe," Mark interrupts gently. He retrieves a pair of socks from his suitcase, sliding them on.

"Or they need support," Jack argues, ignoring how his heart flutters at the nickname.

"Okay, then, I'll make you a deal," Mark offers, pulling on his shoes. "If they are still fighting tomorrow, then you can intervene. But, until then, there's no talk of it or plans or sneaking off to force your way in. Fair?"

Jack sighs. "I guess it's fair."

"Good," Mark smiles, standing.

The American wraps the Irishman in his arms, placing a quick kiss on his lips. Jack blushes a light pink, relaxing with a smile.

"Now, I was promised dinner," Mark reminds him.

"Make we should just get delivery," Jack muses, giving a firm squeeze to the raven's backside.

Mark chuckles. "I'm not one of your cheap whores, Mr SepticEye. I will settle for nothing less than a waiter asking to refill my drink every five minutes."

"Do you really think it is a good idea?" the younger asks, mood turning serious as he loses his smile. "To go out? Alone I mean? If it is just you and me... you don't think people will start talking, right?"

"Jack, babe, sweetheart, honey bunny, my precious little potato," Mark chimes, swaying with each word. "You worry too much. What is one dinner?"

"I guess it isn't anything," Jack agrees. "Between friends, that is. But, next time I get to pick the date."

"Let me guess," Mark chuckles. "Pizza and bad action movies?"

"And cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddles."