A/N: I'm sorry if there are any typo's saved!~ I'll correct any when I see them. To not build it up too fast, I have written a bit more 'time-detailed' ver. of Mark and Jack only here, so the drama can start later o:

Oh and I am aware that Mark has got this.. medical issue so he cannot really drink alcohol. Well you know what? In this fic he won't have it, so he can drink and get drunk to his hearts content... and who knows what side of him will pop out then.~~

It was only after Mark had made the call to order pizza that he realized how quiet it really was, besides the funny noises here and there coming from Jack's bedroom. He took a seat on the couch after opening a window. It appeared to be raining, but the air was a little humid rather than cold. After everything that had happened, he decided to give the situation some thought.

He found it odd that the entire time some part of him wanted to care for Jack and wait for him, just like a caring best friend would. Another part of him wanted to push the Irishman down and tear him apart. It was like, he couldn't trust himself to be around him any longer- though he didn't want to bother walking down the road of ignorance and neglect. Mark couldn't be apart from Jack. Hell, he'd probably damage both of them and kill his own insides if he had to be separated from him. Just that, his thoughts were certainly terrifying to anyone unfamiliar who would even took a glance at 'em. His mind had taken such an impure turn, it worried him.

Did he like Jack? Yes. Did he want Jack? Yes.

There was no problem further than that whatsoever. Ah- right. Besides the fact that cute little devil of a Jack was within his very reach, his irresistible blue eyes that were always readable in such a way- Mark could mostly seem to figure out what the man was thinking, or how he felt. When Jack laughed, that luscious smile Mark wanted to kiss until the softness of his very lips left a sensation that could not be shaken off. His pale, soft skin that trembled under the tips of his fingers which Mark wanted to touch all over the place. Perhaps, more than that.

Mark uncomfortably licked the inside of his mouth, including his teeth, ignoring the trouble he stirred down below in his pants.

The urge to claim that green-haired leprechaun was far greater he ever imagined. The way he had bitten the male back in the restroom stall, god. It sent Mark himself shivers down his spine. He enjoyed it, the way Jack slightly flinched upon feeling his teeth within his flesh, it was a massive turn on. Next time, he was sure he would leave more of 'em. Everywhere. He wanted Jack for himself, and to claim his body as his own. Not only his body- his heart too. Everything of Jack. It was scary, because Mark knew that despite the fact he slowly didn't trust his own desires anymore, he didn't dislike it. He didn't dislike the idea of having Jack under him, his wrist tied to the bed in the darkness while all he'd hear are the sensuous squeals that escaped Jack's tasty mouth, filling the room's silence with it as Mark would go down on the YouTuber and leave a trail of kisses, bites... even licks. How Jack would call out Mark's name in a desperate plead of wanting him so badly, he would give it to him. Make Jack think that all he needed was Mark, and let his body remember too to only respond to Mark's touch. No matter how far Jack would struggle away from the blue-haired YouTuber, he would always hopelessly crawl back right into his arms. The sheets stained with saliva, cum and blood.

Blood.

Mark slammed his fist down on the table without hurting himself, dragging his own ass back to reality.

"I can't..", he muttered to himself.

He sighed deeply. He had no clue what to do with all of this basically HAUNTING him. God, Jack would never forgive him. Or.. would he? Well, best way to find that out is to confront Jack himself with it. Then again, what would he do? Rape him? God- the thought of tormenting his beloved Jack around sickened Mark. He wanted to punch himself, but he could not. It held no purpose.

He got up from the couch and walked around with his phone in his hands. He first checked his twitter messages, then his facebook. Good. It was some distraction, atleast. He laughed at the funny pictures and comments here and there that popped by on his own facebook page, until he found a picture he had posted recently of him and Jack. He looked so happy there. Yet, he felt like he was responsible for all the pain Jack had felt the past year. Like, he was the cause of everything and he hated that. Mark wanted to make it up to Jack, badly. How could he have been so blind?

Mark moved his ass a bit to grab the paper note he hadn't forgotten about for a second out of his ass pocket. He looked at it, inspecting the fragile piece of paper between his fingers. He shouldn't have snatched it in the first place, but he somewhere felt like he had to. He envied, and he knew it. He wondered how many times Jack even had sex with her... he couldn't stand that thought either. Even though the thought itself was majorly unfair and they weren't to blame, Mark's jealousy was just being a pain in the ass (not literally). Jack was still bound to Signe, despite Mark having conquered his precious heart long ago. It bothered him, but there was nothing he could do except for waiting.

It was only when Mark blinked he realized he had unconsciously formed a smile on his face when he heard the Irishman shout out loud in his own room, recording something. Jack being... Jack.

Leaving his phone on the coffee table in the living room, he went to the kitchen. The pizza guy would most likely be there in 20 minutes, so Mark snooped around the house to find something to drink. He event took the effort to fold the little note up into a ball and toss it away into the bin. To his surprise upon opening the refrigerator, there was a closed package of food in a bowl left untouched with yet another note. He shut the refrigerator, impatiently tapping his fingers on the counter while leaning over it.

"No, no. No. Naaah, not another note. Not again. I won't read it this time. I know what you're trying to pull on me, karma! Last time I grabbed a note it didn't exactly contribute to my feelings either. Nu-uh. No, just.. no. It's intrusive, I can't do that-!"

Oh yes he could. He reopened the fridge, grabbing the note that was on it, another one left by Signe. His curiousity had gotten ahead of him, and he both hated & liked it at the same time. There was some sense of childish mischief that came alongside prying into Jack's personal matters, but who cares. Jack would be his soon, he hoped atleast. He just wanted to see what more Signe had to offer.

Hm. Nothing important. Thank heavens. He placed the note back, chuckling to himself rather than being serious about it. It could've been worse. Silly Markimoo.

He returned to the living room with two bottles of Bourbon whiskey and two glasses, placing them on the coffee table next to his phone.

"Perks of being an Irishman, finding alcohol here and there lying around", Mark laughed to himself as he opened one bottle. Mark poured a cup for himself, completely full. Why the heck not? Perhaps it would help him with his worries...,

or so he thought.

After Jack had finished uploading a video, he sat down on his chair; exhausted. Not exhausted in a sense of wasting his energy, but more like mental exhaustion. He wasn't really sure what he should do next, as how Markiplier was waiting for him in the damn living room who was probably a few seconds away from jumping on him. Well, not that he would mind. He'd most likely do the same.

Jack thought things through, how to confront Signe in first place and tell her that he has an undying love for the beefcake of an 'murican YouTuber, turning out he had no romantic feelings whatsoever for Signe. Well, well. This was sure gonna be a blast ...not. He knew her well enough to say she wasn't going to like the sole fact alone that he was in love with someone else. It made him nervous just knowing that she would be so hurt and pissed and everything possible could happen if Jack told her more than just that. Well, he had to. He was already doing shit behind her back, and as much as he liked being with Mark, at the end of the day he couldn't bring himself to do this to her.

He spun around in his chair for a short while, then jumped off to look at the septiceye figures on his large cupboard. He wanted to go back downstairs to Mark, but some part told him not to. He held a distinct type of fear of facing Mark amidst the awkwardness, and he was so certain that both of them might not be able to sit still for the night. Alright, Signe was in Korea. What would she know? Jack facepalmed over his naive thoughts. Of course. It would only add up to the guilt pile of 'things-Signe-can't-know-or-she'd-murder-him'. He loathed the sneakiness and hiding, but there was no other way he could think of, and to be honest the situation was far beyond the point of return.

Then again, he fancied the idea of Mark's hands exploring his entire body.

..Why did he had to think of that now?

Jack stared down at his lively crotch.

..Maybe if he was fast enough?

He didn't take a second longer to hesitate, unbuttoning his pants and lowering his zipper. He moved his boxer-briefs downwards, just enough to reveal his entire pulsating erection; waiting to be touched. His hand wrapped around his stick, it felt so good. So warm. Moans fled from the sinning little Irishman's lips, while with every second passing his hand stroking his entire dick seemed to be going faster and faster. Oh, the thrill of using the tip of his finger to rub the head of his dick, his finger sliding ardently over the precum-coated tip.

The pleasure made Jack's legs feel weak.

Jack assiduously masturbated on his chair, his entire mind filling with the moment back in the sinful restroom stall. He traced with his fingers the way Mark had touched him, imitating the actions as he suppressed his attractive whines. Notably, the bite wound started to sting a bit, only adding up to the gratification of becoming even harder.

Only for a short while, Jack stopped touching to kick off both jeans and boxer-briefs, and clumsily get himself right into his trusted bed. He positioned himself on all four's, bending himself over with his ass up. Fuck, if Mark saw him like that he was screwed.

Soon enough picking up the action between his legs, he grew a convinced eagerness that wondered about how they would... have sex.

'T-they enter from the.. b-butt.. right..?', Jack thought. His face flushed a bright shade of red.

Not letting go of his hard rod, he slid one hand into his boxers to his bum, his finger reaching the virgin hole that Jack wanted the one and only Mark Fischbach to have, badly. It wasn't the first time Jack had masturbated over Mark, but damn. He was taking it one step further than usually. Oh my.~

Biting down on the covers of his bed to surpress his squeals, he gently tried to press a finger within his prostate. Poking around here and there, he managed to get it inside of his twitching behind. A new, awakened feeling alarmed the little Irishman. It felt strange and painful, but there was a certain hotness about it that he wanted to keep going.

He forced his finger deeper within his tight hole, the sensation of both pain and pleasure surging throughout his body; muzzling his moans badly.

"Ma-h.. Maark..", he instinctively squeaked out the Asian-German's name in a broken voice.

Like that, the Irishman continued in the hope of not being discovered.

That certain Mark Fischbach stared at the ceiling, waiting for the delivery with the glass of Bourbon in his hand.

Since it had been quiet for a while in Jacksepticeye's room, he kind of wondered if anything happened. Taking the last sip that was in the glass, he got his lazy ass up and went in the intended direction of Jack's room, until a certain sound of a bell had cut him off.

"Ah, nope! Pizza first! God I'm starrrving", he grumbled to himself. Mark went over to the front door, opening it for the delivery guy. He accepted both boxes and gave the man money, then closed the door right behind him. He carried the good-smelling pizzaboxes over to the living room, where he placed them on the coffee table. Why would'ya need a dining table for that anyway? He could be closer to the Irishman if both sat together.

"Jack?", he yelled out. "Pizza's here dude get your ass over to the living room so we can both eat!"

No answer.

"JACKSEPTIC'AYYY? TOPPA DA PIZZA TO YA MATE", Mark yelled out; trying to imitate an Irish accent. He broke out in a quick laughter afterwards.

No answer once again. The silence of the place was oddly disturbing when he thought about it, considering how loud Jack should have been- plus he should have responded.

Strange.

'Oh god', Mark thought. 'I hope nothing happened.'

Once more, Mark went on his victorious adventure to Jack's bedroom. He wanted to knock on the door, until he heard a sudden squeal that may have been too loud for the Irish YouTuber to surpress. A big, sadistic grin revealed itself on Mark's manly face as soon as he had figured out what could be going on.

Taking a deep breath, Mark opened that certain door to no return.