you like because, but you love despite // septiplier
“Not… not tonight, Mark,” Jack manages to whisper when the other man's hands start drifting to more inappropriate areas. Honestly, the rejection goes against his every instinct, but… he really can't drag his heart through the flames tonight.
Mark, the gentleman he is, pulls his hands back up immediately, even pulling away from the kiss to gaze at him with concern. “Is something wrong?” he asks, voice a bit gravelly, and Jack swallows.
“No,” he lies quickly, shaking his head. “Just… not in the mood.” Technically, that's true in a way, but he's pretty much always in the mood. He desperately wants whatever Mark is willing to give him, always terrified that this will be the last time, that he'll tell him afterward that this game they're playing is too fucked up, and he wants out. It would destroy Jack, while barely leaving a dent in Mark.
His eyes squint slightly as he gazes at him, searching his expression. “You're lying,” he states finally, and Jack squirms a bit.
“I'm not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“It's not a big deal, Mark, I just can't… handle it, tonight.”
Mark's eyebrows furrow, creasing his forehead. “What?” Jack shrugs half-heartedly, not wanting to voice or explain the pain in his heart.
Mark, however, finds his own answer in that silence.
“Do you not wanna touch me?” Mark asks, voice pained, which is a horribly incorrect assumption. It's painfully laughable, how wrong it is.
“What? No, o’ course I want to, I always--”
“I knew this was coming. You don't want me anymore, do you? You got to have me for a while, though maybe not completely--
“Have you?” Jack didn't realize that Mark considered himself even partially Jack's.
“--and you realized that everything you thought you felt was a fantasy, and that I'm just horrible, and fucking rot, and you're done doing this with me because it's not worth it, and hurts more people than it helps, and--”
“Mark!”
“--you don't want me anymore.” Mark finally seems to take a breath, his spiraling words pausing, and Jack takes the opportunity to pin him down, hand covering his mouth. It's achingly clear, now, the pain in Mark's eyes, and Jack's gut twists.
“Mark.” His voice is shaky, and he feels like he's teetering on the edge here. “Mark. Listen ta me, alright?” The American's breaths are coming in short, probably on the verge of a panic attack... if he's not already having one. “I want you.” He can almost hear the disbelief that Mark would be voicing right now, if he could speak. “Goddammit - I will always want you, Marky. I don't know how you forgot this, or could ever convince y’rself that that's not true, cos it is. I want you so bad that it hurts, and I've… I've only wanted ya more since this started.” It should've been painfully obvious - though, he supposes, he hasn't said it in so many words. Not since he confessed his love to him, after fucking Shawna decided she didn't--
That… doesn't matter, not right now.
He takes a shaky breath, shaking his head slightly. “You're the only one that I want. I don't care how much of you I'm allowed to have, as long as I have you in some way. Be it best friend, or fuck buddy, or some weird combination o’ both.” He leans his forehead against Mark's. “Nothin’ you could ever do would change that.” He lets his hand slide from Mark's mouth to cup his cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “I want you more than anything.” The words come out softer, almost whispered, and tinted in that well-worn heartbreak that he wears like a second skin.
Mark seems to be trying to collect himself, eyes searching Jack's for any insincerity. But no, there's only pained honesty to be found. “But…” His voice cracks on the word, and Jack's heart aches with it. “I'm… I'm cheating on Thomas with you,” he manages in a whisper, and it's the first time they've actually acknowledged it out loud. His very bones seem to ache. “It's… I'm dirty, and wrong, and untrustworthy… I'm rotten, rotting both you and him.”
Jack presses his lips together for a moment, wanting to sob at the tears he sees shining in Mark's eyes. “I don't believe that ya are. Rotten, rotting, dirty, wrong. Just… that heart o’ gold is all confused, and that's… I can't say it's okay, but I'm not mad at you for it.” He takes a shaky breath. “And say you are, huh? What if I said that… that I don't care if you rot me all the way through? You could destroy me fucking entirely, and every last piece of me will still keep comin’ back. Will still want you.” Horribly self-destructive, he knows, but… he loves him.
“I don't want that for you,” Mark replies, voice a choked sob, and Jack bites his lip, shaking his head.
“You don't get to decide, here. It's my choice, lettin’ ya hurt me. Because it's worth it. A million times over. When you kiss me, or smile, or even just pull me a little closer… it's worth it.” He offers the smallest of smiles, though he's sure that the utter longing in his eyes is clear. “You're worth it.”
At that, a tear slips down Mark's cheek, and he tugs Jack down, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.
“Y-you should hate me.” The words taper off into a small sob, and Jack's heart clenches.
“I can't ever hate you, Marky.” He squeezes his eyes shut, letting his own tears fall. “I love you.” The words are soft and horrible, but it doesn't matter how much it hurts him to say them. They're the truth, and Mark… he needs them, right now. “No matter what, I will always love you. There's nothing you could ever do to me that I couldn't forgive.”
When Mark's mouth finds Jack's own, he doesn't even think of fighting it. He just kisses him back, pouring his desperation and longing into it, tasting the salty film of tears caught between their lips. “I love you,” he gasps between kisses, and in response Mark just kisses him harder, almost as hungry and desperate as Jack is.
