Septiplier One Shots

Not A Minute To Spare

Prompt: I spent years waiting for this day. Let me enjoy it.

They had lived together forever it seemed, four years actually. Mark had spent all that time watching men and women pass through their apartment on their way to the door in the morning from Jack's room.  

He made sure to glare at them, seemingly daring them to do something. They probably thought he was pissed at the noises he heard through the wall, thinking he didn't get sleep or something. They weren't completely wrong, not completely right though. He was hurt, ever morning he saw someone new leave, it hurt a little more and the glare got more intense.

Of course though, they would leave and he would let the glare slip away and go back to eating his cereal. He would always leave for work before Jack came out of his room. He didn't want to see what he looked like, what he acted like, what he sounded like after a fresh fuck. It had been hard to avoid seeing that for four years but he had done it.

Real dedication is what it took.

It was kinda pathetic, living with a guy you had a crush on for years. It was bad enough when they weren't living together and just close friends in college but now that they are it just aches more.

At first, he only brought women home. It eased the pain somehow because he knew it wasn't him it was just his body. He just didn't have the right parts, that hurt but it was okay. He understood. Then the first one came.

Mark had been in the kitchen, eating his cereal, waiting for the faceless women to come walking out, give him a glance only to be met by a glare and leave. But that didn't happen, when Mark looked up...

He hurt.

He barely registered his spoon slipping from his hands and into the bowl, splashing milk everywhere. Mark stared at the guy, he felt his eyes fill up with tears, he expected a smug look for the guy.

He didn't get one, at first the guy just looked confused then he looked around and at photos on the walls, the photos of Jack and him, and gave him a sympathetic look. That was so much worse than a smug look. The guy just stood and Mark just let tears silently roll off his face and into the now soggy cereal below. The guy crept to the door.

"I'm sorry," he whispered before quickly leaving. Mark threw the bowl at the closing door, the cereal and broken shards of bowl went everywhere. Mark heard Jack getting up to come see what had happened. Mark was already gone when he came into the kitchen.

He was down in his car sitting, shoeless and crying. It wasn't because he wasn't a women, it was simply because he wasn't right. He wasn't what Jack wanted.

Nothing had hurt that much in a long time.

But that was a year ago. He had grown numb by now. He had learned his place, he had learned where he stood in Jack's world. Distant. Friends, yes. Roommates, yes. Nothing else. It should be enough.

It really wasn't.

He thinks Jack noticed the shift. He thinks he noticed the absence of smiles on his face, notices the way he jerks away from what use to be friendly and welcome touches. He thinks Jack noticed but it's probably wishful thinking.

Mark often thought of bringing people home, thought of filling his sorrows with other warm bodies but the thought of anyone but Jack felt sacrilege. He felt like he was cheating somehow.

But it had all passed, he was here again. Eating his damn cereal and waiting to see the lasted one night stand come out of Jack's room.

It was a guy, it was almost always men now. Mark looked up when he heard footsteps this morning and felt pissed. Not pissed like the first time he saw a man leave that room, that had hurt mixed in. Pissed because this guy, this fucking guy had the smuggest air about him. Like he had just won another prize. Like Jack was some cheap carnival toy.