After a particularly long convention day, Mark and Jack made their way back to their hotel rooms. There were no more things to sign, no more people to meet, no more pants to be worn. The day was over, and the two friends could finally just hang out and do what they loved most: gaming. It had been a long time since they'd last seen each other, but they picked up exactly where they left off. They sat on the floor in front of the television, the room filled with the sounds from their on-screen players, muffled greatly by their loud, happy banter. With no cameras expecting of them, they were actually much better gamers.
.
"Bro," Jack said, nudging him.
"What's up."
"Snacks." Jack said pointedly. There was a pause before Mark spoke, a challenge in his voice.
"If you can win this round, I will go and I will get you snacks."
"You're on."
.
Jack got his own snacks.
When he sat back down, Mark called his attention to another player. "Dude, it's our lovechild."
Sure enough, Septiplier was dancing around the screen.
"Ah jesus, there's no escaping it." Jack hung his head, wondering why people spent so much time shipping him and his friend.
Mark laughed, "It's all part of the life we live, Jack my boy." He put a hand on his friend's shoulder in mock support. "It's a thankless job, but somebody's got to do it."
"I just wish there were at least a wee faction that didn't immediately make me the bottom." He couldn't help the grin when Mark let out a roar of laughter.
"Like I would ever be the bottom here. You'd take it," he winked playfully, "like a champ."
Jack squared his shoulders, "No, you know what? No. I refuse to conform to society's model of what type of fuck I should have. I'm taking a stand." His chin tilted upward defiantly. "You, and no other man besides, is getting anywhere near this sexy rear end."
"Unless I'm Ryan Reynolds."
"Unless you're Ryan Reynolds. That man could have his way with me and I'd thank him after and send him off with a gift basket."
Mark chuckled, obviously not believing a minute of Jack's sudden Alpha-nature. The conversation slid closed and they resumed their game.
.
Mark's mind stayed on the subject and it wasn't long before he broke the silence saying, "You've never... actually thought about...'it', have you?" Jack mulled it over for a second.
"Well I mean, dude, yeah. It's everywhere."
"Right?" Mark set his controller down, happy he wasn't alone in his thinking.
"And you're a handsome feller."
"And so are you. I just wish...ugh...I can't even go online without 'Septiplier' being there in my face."
"Ugh, yes. Constantly. And the fanfiction...don't get me started. But man, have you seen some of the artwork people have made of us?"
"Fuck, yeah some of it is really well done." Mark ran a hand through his hair, stunned by the talent and dedication of his fanbase.
Jack fiddled with the controller sitting loose in his hands. "Kind of hot, too..."
"I mean...yeah. For sure. And they make us look—"
"Really, really... hot." Mark looked over, surprised at his friend's sudden tone. He could see his friend was hard, and it was obvious how he fought to hide it. Mark felt a rush of heat and looked away.
They kept gaming, but he was still thinking over their conversation. In his head, Jack kept repeating, "Really, really hot."
.
This will probably become a four-part narrative. My first story for the ship, but I really enjoy writing it. And yes, I do know his name isn't Jack; I just kind of want to stick with their on-screen characters, rather than the actual people behind the channels. I don't know if that makes sense. Bear with me if it doesn't. ^_^''