Septiplier Drabbles

No One Needs to Know

HIGHSCHOOL AU | slight homophobia | drug use

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"Hey, gaylord."

Mark sighs and tries to ignore the taunt. He shuts his locker and turns to head to class, but a bulky boy is in his way, arms crossed over his broad chest. The boy's friends stand on either side of him, looming over Mark with smirks on their faces.

"Where do you think you're going?" The boy in the middle asks, cocking his head to one side.

"Physics class." Mark answers, side stepping in an attempt to get around them. The guy to his left moves to block him, shoving him against the lockers.

"You sure about that?" The guy to his right, Luke, sneers at him, glancing to his friends as if looking for approval. "We heard somethin' much different."

Mark sighs, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He knows where this is going. "What did you hear?"

"We heard you were going to the janitor's closet to give the other fags blowjobs." Luke chuckles loudly, his friends joining in soon after.

"Is that true?" One of them asks, a wicked grin on his face. Mark isn't sure if he's asking out of curiosity or cruel intent. Doesn't matter either way, douchebags like him are definitely not Mark's type. Not that he has a type...

"Not even in your wet-dreams would that be true," Mark mutters, glaring up at the guy over the rim of his glasses. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"No." Luke growls, pushing Mark's shoulder and pinning him against the lockers. "We don't excuse fags like you."

Mark grinds his teeth, patience wearing thin. Why did there have to be so many homophobes in this school? "Lucky for me, I'm not one."

"We don't believe you," one of the other boys says. Mark notices the guy's hands clench into fists and his heart sinks. Of course their intention is violence. This isn't a new occurrence, but it never gets easier to prepare for. "One thing we hate more than faggots is liars."

"Well, I'm not lying, so..." Mark moved to pull himself away from Luke's hand that has him pinned against his locker. "I'm gonna' leave now."

"You're not going anywhere, dickwad!" One of the boys shouts, reaching to grab Mark by the shirt collar. Mark drops his books and ducks to evade the boy's grasp. He takes off running, sprinting around the corner. He needs to lose them somehow. He considers the janitor's closet, but the janitor is blocking his way. Mark takes a sharp turn and hurls the bathroom door open.

He cringes when the door slams against the wall with a loud bang that echoes off the tiled walls. He sighs in relief when he realizes he managed to get the only gender-neutral bathroom in the school, lock included. He clicks the lock and leans his forehead against the door in relief. A moment later he hears a small choking cough and turns slowly to find that he isn't alone.

A lithe boy sits with his feet up on the toilette seat, one hand over his mouth and the other stilled at his side. He holds a lit joint between his fingers. He stares at Mark, trembling slightly as he struggles not to cough. His black-lined eyes appear red and glassy, the bright blue of his eyes standing out. Mark only stares back at him, heart caught in his throat. The tense moment breaks as the boy breaks into a coughing fit.

Mark approaches him, one hand out in a gesture meant to be comforting. As the boy lets out his last few wretched coughs, Mark places his open palm against his shoulder.