Friend-Zoned

[80]

Fun fact: for about two months, I wasn't even gonna publish this as a book. I was gonna keep it for nothing. But I already had nearly 30 "chapters" written so I thought, why not give it a shot? Not sure if my shot was worth it lmao

But here it is. The big oopy-doopy moment. I guess. God I'm lame :^D

...Mark cusses a lot doesn't he...

I also had to rewrite this twice because it deleted two times I tried to post it. Sorry if this version is shit... Ugh

...

"Dammit, this again?!"

Jack groaned, running his hands down his face. He rammed his foot into his sworn nemesis again, the one thing he hated, but always kept coming back to.

That damned money taking snack machine.

It wasn't a stuck bag of chips this time. It was a darn candy bar. Jack decide to skip fourth block, and so far he probably would've been better off to just go.

He nearly jumped-both from happiness and from being spooked-when a familiar voice snickered out a familiar phrase.

"Like that'll help you."

Turning himself, Jack spotted Mark standing in a smug position with an evenly cocky smirk. Jack smiled sheepishly and scratched the top of his head with a chuckle.

"These things just don't seem to work for me, huh..?"

Mark rolled his eyes, grinning. "Apparently. Let 'pretty boy' show ya how it's done." He used air quotes, emphasizing the name.

Jack stepped to the side, arm out. "Please. Please do, oh strong one."

Mark chuckled.

He stepped forward, mimicking Jack's actions with his foot, but with a lot more force. The candy wiggled and Mark did it another time, dislodging it.

"Magic." Mark used a dumb voice, grinning when Jack bent over to grab it from the slot. "Nice ass."

"Don't get full of yourself already." Jack stood up, definitely blushing but happily smiling. "And thank you."

Jack started unwrapping the treat, walking down the hallway and toward the theater doors. Mark was still behind him, silently following before speaking.

"So, you wanted to talk?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

He pushed open the doors to the large room, "but in here. In private. Wouldn't that be better?"

Mark sighed, fists going into his pockets. "Much..."

By the time Mark entered the room himself, Jack was already planting himself down on the stage. Lying on his back, feet twisting in a gleeful manner and munching on the candy.

"So," he stared, looking up when Mark sat cross legged next to his head, "you-uh-had something important to say, hm?"

Mark snorted, turning his focus away from the baby blue eyes he'd really missed liking at. "It's... it's not that important. I overreacted a little."

"You overreacted? Fuck, then what did do? I was a bitch. An asshole. I became a douchebag. I'm sorry for that, too. What you have to say is important. Everything about you is important. Your opinion matters, and I should've listened, Mark. It was really rude of me to bite at you like that and give no reason why."

"What made you so upset? You were kind of pissed off at the end of the school day..."

"I heard everything between you and Fe." Mark tensed, keeping his state blankly ahead of him. "W-was he telling the truth, Mark..? Were you really just using me? Just like they did you..." His voice became vulnerable, abandoning half of the bar with a sigh.

Mark stuttered nonsense before groaning, hands holding his face. "I was trying to hide, Jack. I'll be honest. I was hiding my real thoughts. Disguising my real words. I didn't want to tell him what my mind wanted. If I did, who knows what would happen? And you was hanging around him so much, you lied about a hickey, I was scared I was gonna lose you too..."

Jack tilted his head back, looking up at him. "Wait-lied? What do you mean?"

Mark chuckled, removing his incredibly crimson face from his hands to smile at the Irishman. "Yeah. I talked to Fe yesterday. Said you two were playing and he accidentally hit you. I couldn't help but laugh. Because now I know you cracked under pressure and that's what you came up with. You're adorable when your nervous, you know."

Jack listened to the slight echo from the large dome shaped room, giggling with embarrassment. "Whoops."

"But... what about... But what about that important thing? It's been killing me to know... as a friend, I got really worried over time."

He frowned up at him, Mark turning darker (if even possible). Mark looked away, running his hand through his hair to comb it back out of his face. "I..I... I don't know. I-I can't remember it."

Blatant lie. Jack knew he was lying. He was hesitating.

He sat up, spinning around to face him, obnoxiously throwing his legs in his lap. Mark just accepted it and placed his hands on his knees. "You're lying, Markimoo, I can tell when you're lyin'," Jack spoke in a sing song voice, leaning forward and holding his head in his palms supported by his elbows that rested on his thighs. (Boy, that's a mouthful).

Mark blinked at Jack's sudden thickening in Irish accent, snorting and looking away. "I-I-'ve been thinking... a lot. And by thinking a lot, I'm not exaggerating..."

Jack slowly blinked, giving him his full attention curiously. "About?" He muttered nearly inaudibly.

Mark started to twist and mess with his nose ring. "W...What if I'm done? Done with what we have? I'm done with this. Sick of it all. It means nothing; Kissing you, holding your hand, cuddling you, even having gosh darned sex with you and your parents are only a room away... I'm sick of it."

Jack retracted his legs, pulling them to his chest and hugging his knees tightly. He hated how his eyes burned when he wanted to cry. "Oh..."

"I'm sick of it meaning nothing. Sick of it being shrugged off. Like nothing. I hate it. I hate constantly calling you only a friend. This friend with benefits thing, whatever it is. I'm just a friend who bangs you then turns around and shouts to the whole world that we're the bestest of friends. If we keep this up, I'll go fucking insane...

"Kissing your little plush lips, means nothing. Holding your tiny, warm hands, means nothing. Holding your small frame-which I think fits perfect in my arms-means nothing. Forcing myself not to say I love you... Taking care of you, keeping you happy, because I feel like I should. It all ends up meaning absolutely nothing. And it always had."

Jack huffed, holding his knees closer. He blinked to stop himself from even trying to cry, a few hanging to his long lashes. "You can stop now... I get it." He pressed his face into his arms with a sigh. He didn't want to seem dramatic and cry; but he'd kept his hopes up for so long and avoided being upset and crying. He'd built it up. If it came out now, it'd be a mess, most likely.

"No, you don't get it." Mark let go of his studded jewel and turned to him with a dead serious expression, "You don't fucking get I hate it. It means nothing because of what we've got. I hate what we've got now. I don't want it anymore. I'm done with it. I want to change this 'nothing' label on everything. It should mean something. I want something else. I hate being your awful friend..."

"What're you fucking saying?" Jack retorted. He didn't look when Mark chuckled a bit sourly, but nearly snapped his neck to look at him when he did speak.

"I love you. I really fucking love you."