Septiplier One-shots! (MarkiplierxJacksepticeye)

Spring Break

Third-Person POV:

Jack had been so humbled and stunned by the question, he stared dumbly at the half-Korean teenager who beamed in front of him, excitedly awaiting an answer.

It had usually been the Irish teen who was always super giddy, easily-excited and everything in between, but now, staring at the hopeful boy before him, he knew he wouldn't be able to say no—or for that matter, resist saying yes—and nodded eagerly, shooting an award-winning smile and a notion to continue on with the details. They each slammed their lockers shut, ignoring the hassle of everyone screaming out excitedly on the last day before Spring Break.

The memory swept over his mind and he let out a hearty sigh, smiling at the Fischbach resident's door. By then, he'd noticed how weird he probably looked to onlookers, so with his cheeks a light shade of pink, he rang the doorbell and awaited an answer.

Mark and himself hadn't been friends for very long, so this would be his first time visiting his house and first time hanging out with the boy from his grade.

They had found each other through having separate conversations about a game, and when no one else was listening to their hyped-up words, they slowly began to realize that the other was talking about the same thing.

Yes, a corny moment indeed, but Sean minded none; Markle Sparkle had been one of the funniest, calmest and interesting person he met, and he shared a big, immediate-trust bond with him, and he was almost sure the other kid felt one back.

Finally, the door opened, and there stood a sleepy, half-dazed looking Mark, who gave Jack one glance up and down, before grinning wearily and holding the door open.

"Christ on a bike, Mark, ya look like you've been sleepin' all damn day!" The Irishman laughed, shyly guiding himself inside.

The door was shut and the darker-haired boy turned and crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow sleepily.

"Well, excuse me if I don't get up at a time where the birds are falling out of the trees because even they're not awake and chirping, yet. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go put on some pants!"

Sean had been so caught up taking in the other's facial appearance, he hadn't even noticed that Mark had been standing there in nothing but an old, red shirt and a pair of gray boxers.

His cheeks now a dark red, he chuckled nervously as he tried not to look at Mark's ass while he strutted up the stairs in a hurry.

    After the awkwardness overcome, the raven-haired, semi-American changed into a dark-red flannel shirt, along with a pair of black jeans.

"Dude, how the fuck do ya wear those," Jack gestured to the other's jeans, "on a day like today?"

Mark glanced down at his appearance, grinned lopsidedly and shook his head while sighing.

"Fashion is a commitment, Jackaboy," he laughed, "and I can tell you haven't committed," he then added while pointing to the other's black-and-toxic-green swim-trunks and a black short-sleeve shirt.

"Pshh, whatever, you're jus' jealous because I'm ready for kick-ass swim and yer not."

Sean jokingly shoved Mark's shoulder, the two of them stumbling a bit in chuckles.

Admittedly, it was a really hot day, and both of them were feeling the heat, but they kept to themselves about it and went on to their gaming day.

"Yeah, my dad took my other consoles," the dark-haired teenager mumbled grumpily, folding his arms again as Jack scanned his games all lined in alphabetically on a shelf, "but I still have a P-S-two, so, retro-gaming it is! I hope ya don't mind," he stated sheepishly.