Jack was so nervous. Okay, maybe not so nervous. Maybe more like super-duper-booper-dooper nervous. It was after the con, he and Mark, Felix, Bob, and Wade were all wandering around, looking for a good place to eat.
Felix was getting tired and hanging off of each person in turn, vlogging and snapping stupid pictures and laughing in the background. It relaxed Jack, the easy laughter and casual saunter of everyone there.
Jack glanced over at Mark, who was chatting with Bob lowly, discussing the hotel reservation and that they had made sure to bring all the keys with them. Mark's low voice resonated with Jack, even several paces away. He barely caught himself when Felix pounced on him, holding the camera up and making a duck face into it.
"Smiiiiiile," Felix drawled out teasingly, wrapping his arm around Jack's shoulder and pulling at his cheek. Jack swatted him away, laughing and made a mirror duck face to Felix and threw up some peace signs. Felix seemed satisfied after another thirty seconds of footage and moved onto Mark. Mark had seen him coming and tackled him back, playfully growling at Felix's camera.
They all quieted for a moment, the air picking up and snatching their con passes away from their bodies. Jack looked nervously at the others for a moment, Felix seemed to be the most relaxed but only because he was still vlogging, catching the flags and boards of the buildings flapping in the wind.
"Maybe we can get room service instead," Bob suggested quietly, but Mark looked apprehensive.
"We should check the weather just in case," he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through. "...Ah shit," he said under his breath, the wind practically carrying his voice away.
"What?" Jack peeped. Everyone had gone serious, even Felix had shut off his camera to check the weather.
"It says there's a tornado warning, we have to get inside, somewhere low." Mark started herding the group towards a restaurant, Jack being caught right to his chest. He looked up for just a moment, Mark's stubble scratching through the top of his hair.
They made it through the glass door, even with all of them stuck together. Jack pulled away, glancing around the restaurant. The waiter, a black-haired, freckled man with black gauges, asked if they needed to be seated. Mark started to explain that they just needed to come in from the weather. The writer nodded but insisted they go to a table near the back. "I'm Nate, by the way. Matthew will be your server." Just as he said so, another man walked up, him with brown hair and what sounded like a radio voice when he introduced himself.
Jack sat on the outside of the booth, right across from Mark. He seemed tense, but Jack had promised himself. Maybe there was no better time; such dangerous weather didn't guarantee anything.
He tugged gently on Mark's sweatshirt, catching Mark's eye. He nodded over to another corner of the restaurant, and Mark hesitated a moment but then nodded.
Once they were in the corner, Jack started. "Mark, I'm so sorry to bring it up now, but...this weather made me think that I'll never know when I'll get another chance, so..." He paused and looked at Mark, who was looking at him a little nervously. "I...really like you, Mark. Really like you, as more than a friend. I just...had to tell you, I'm sorry." He looked down, but was surprised when his chin was pulled up.
"Thank you, Jack." Mark pulled him closer and pecked him on the cheek. "Let's discuss later."