You're In Awfully Early {Septiplier}

Just Too Forgiving

Felix half expects Jack to be late to the airport. He tries not to let the thought create a sour taste in his mouth, the land of the plane creating painful pressure in his ears. He grumbles quietly to himself, his bad mood settling in.

If Felix knows anything about Jack, it's that the Irishman hates mornings with a burning passion. Mark, it seems, is the only one who could even attempt to get the grumpy brunette out of bed before noon, and even then, it's normally only with the promise of a nap in the afternoon.

The clock had yet to strike double digits when Felix steps off his plane, ears aching and eyes heavy from jet lag. Tugging his oversized suitcase behind him, he steps across the dingy tile, squinting at signs in an attempt to find the exit. He glances at his phone, almost surprised to see a text from Jack.

Jack: southwest exit! Waiting for you!

Felix gives a small smile, a bit of a spring to his step as he strides through the airport. His stomach growls as he passes the food court, the delicious aroma of greasy burgers and deep fried chicken wafting through the halls. Felix licks his lips, forcing himself to keep walking, staring longingly at the fast food chains.

He only breaks his gaze away from the restaurants lining the hall when he catches the frantic wave of a slender hand out of the corner of his eye. He glances over to see Jack, bright eyed despite the hour. A small smile tugs on Felix's lips, and he walks a bit faster to close the distance between them.

"Meatball!" Jack smiles, opening his arms wide for a hug.

"Potato!" Felix chuckles, giving the Irishman a quick hug. "You're looking pale."

Jack rolls his eyes, motioning for Felix to follow him. "The LA sun doesn't do much when I'm in my office all day. But, that'll be changing this weekend!"

The blonde easily falls in step, smiling at his friends enthusiasm. "I hope you at least have a few naps scheduled in. Some of us need to sleep, Jackaboy."

"I suppose we could squeeze in a nap," Jack muses. "But, we'll have to drop a few of the activities. I mean, I'm sure you didn't really want to go to Tacos Locos anyway-"

"No, no! Tacos Locos is the only thing that got me through my plane ride. I've already planned on eating there at least three days straight."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that heartburn," Jack mutters, his hand instinctively pressing against his chest. "Last time we ate there we stuffed ourselves, and I swear I tasted nothing but stomach acid for a week. And that was years ago. I was young then, and I still couldn't take it!"

Felix shrugs, a playing smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. "We either go there every day, or you convince them to park in your driveway while I'm here."

Jack can't help but pull a half smile. "It may have wheels, but they haven't moved in years. I think there are two tacos with our names on them, but definitely not a week's worth."

"Two? Jackie, I'm buying as many tacos as they'll make. I'm starving, and I haven't had a good taco in years."

"Okay, okay, as many tacos as you want but only for today," Jack amends, popping the trunk on his car. "First, we need to drop off this monster of a suitcase at my place. I'm not sure my suspension can handle lugging that all over LA."

"It's the necessities," Felix insists. "But, I will need your helping getting it into your car."

Each man takes a side of the suitcase, lifting with a huff. The muscles in Jack's arms tighten beneath his pale skin, biceps straining to lift the suitcase that may be heavier than he is. He curses himself for insisting that late night cardio was enough exercise for him, wishing he hit the weights a bit harder.