Septiplier One-Shots

Four Ways to Love the Sunshine

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,"

Mark stared at the boy as he clutched onto his mother's pants, hiding behind her legs. The boy from next-door was standing next to his own mother, looking just as nervous as Mark, but somehow wore a smile on his face that lightened up the mood.

"Thank you so much for watching over my little Sean when I'm at work," the boy's mother said with a tone that showed how appreciative she was, "I'll make this up to you one day!"

"No, you don't have to! I'm glad to be watching over your son. Have a wonderful day at work!" Mark's mother replied. The boy's mother turned to Sean and squatted so they could be at eye-level.

"Be a good boy, Sean. I don't you causing this nice woman and her son any trouble."

"I won't, ma!" he said, nodding his head, "I'm a good boy!"

She laughed and ruffled his hair, saying her last goodbyes and leaving Sean with Mark and his mother. Mark's mom decided to leave the two boys alone, which meant Mark had to face his fears and talk to this kid.

"Your voice sounds funny." Mark said.

"Yeah, I know. Ma said I have an Irish accent; I used to live in Ireland when I was, like, two."

A smile spread across Mark's face as he squealed, "That's so cool! I've always wanted to go to Ireland!"

The boys laughed and ran off, spending their time together doing things they both found entertaining. They smeared peanut butter all over Mark's face, played tag outside in Mark's yard, succeeding at annoying Mark's brother, and they did so much more. But, to them, it didn't matter what they did; it only mattered to them that they were having fun together.

Mark, of course, didn't realize that in a way, he loved Sean. He wasn't in love, and he didn't love Sean like family, he just loved him like a good friend. A friend he could always go to, a friend that he would have the best time with, a friend that wouldn't hurt him, and a friend that could always be counted on to brighten up the day, just like the sun.

"You make me happy when skies are gray,"

"Don't you frick-fracking dare, Sean!" Mark yelled, attempting to push Sean off the couch to mess him up. Sean fell and laughed as he hit the ground. They were hanging out once again after school, their homework already completed and their dinner already eaten, so they made the decision to play video games until Mark had to go home.

Sean seemed to have most of the Call of Duty games, so they decided to play as many as they could one-on-one. Sean, if you couldn't already tell, was beating Mark.

"Why are you so good at this game?" Mark asked.

"Why are you so bad at this game?" Jack replied.

Mark suddenly died once again at the hands of Sean and sighed, saying, "Touché."

Sean laughed, but it suddenly faltered as he turned to Mark and said, "Jack. You can call me Jack."

"What?" Mark paused the game, turning to Sean with a confused expression on his face.

"The people I love the most call me 'Jack'. So, just knock yourself out."

"Okay, Jack," The name rolled off Mark's tongue as easily as 'Sean' did, hinting that he didn't have to adjust to this sudden change. He had spent seven years of his life calling him 'Sean', so you may assume that he needed at least some time getting used to. That's when Mark was hit with remembering why Jack had told him to call him a different name.