Septiplier Fanfiction✔️

Horribly Cheesy

Jack leaned back in his chair lazily, resisting the urge to rest his feet on his desk. The teacher gave him a brief disapproving look, but the Irish teen didn't care. While some people found it interesting to learn about lighting and the ideal backgrounds, Jack couldn't care less about it. When it came to Youtube...Jack didn't think this class helped much. Sure, knowing the technical aspect of making videos was important, but you would never make it if you didn't have...it.

Whatever it was, it, manifested itself in many forms. Personality, motivation, willingness, dedication, funniness, skill, almost everything. But you couldn't make it big on YouTube without it, Jack had concluded after watching popular YouTubers' videos.

As the teacher droned on about ring lights and their benefits and consequences, Jack found himself looking around the classroom. Some students, like himself, were barely resisting the urge to fall asleep, while a few teens were hunched over scribbling notes. The green-haired youth let out a quiet snort at those bookworms, and continued scanning faces.

One boy at the back of the room took Jack by surprise. He had seen him before, but only in passing, and Jack hadn't even realized he was in this class. The teen had hair strangely akin to his, dyed on top with shorter sides, although his was a vibrant crimson color. Square glasses shone under the harshly bright ceiling lights, and his eyes were a gorgeous dark brown. However, what surprised Jack the most was the fact that the American teen was clearly not paying attention either.

From what he knew of him, the red-haired boy was one of the bookworms, recording everything and answering all the questions that nobody else knew. So Jack was shocked to see him doodling on his tablet, looping his stylus around with an air of laziness. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt, but its fitted cut showed off muscles that Jack wouldn't expect him to have. Also unexpectedly, Jack felt his the crotch of his black jeans become taut. Shit.

Zipping up the front of his Ramones hoodie, Jack raised his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?" He felt Mark's gaze on him like it was a laser, and when the teacher nodded he practically bolted out of the room, dashing down the hallway to the safety of what he called The Bathroom of Requirement.

Almost no one was ever there due to its obscure location, tucked into a hallway opposite two classrooms. Jack found himself going there increasingly often these days, and he would hang out there for a few minutes when he needed alone time during the day.

Closing the door behind him, Jack looked in the mirror and couldn't help but smile at his appearance, which always cheered him up. The toxic green hair on the top of his head was just slightly gelled so that the ends were spiky, and although he couldn't see it, he knew that the temporary tattoo on the back of his neck hadn't worn off yet. Jack didn't wear anything around his neck (he hated the feel) but sported a black hoodie, Supernatural tee, and black jeans.

Jack knew that he looked like a stereotypical punk kid, but at the same time the teen didn't care. Wearing anime shirts and painting his Converse with video games felt like the most natural thing in the world, and so he had no plans to change anything.

Caught in the middle of a thought monologue, Jack froze when the door opened and quickly rezipped his hoodie, trying to look like he was just about to wash his hands. He thought about humming or whistling for good measure, but decided it would be overkill. The YouTuber-in-training yanked on the faucet's taps, heart pounding, and slammed his hand down on the soap dispenser. He didn't look at whoever had entered the bathroom, keeping his eyes on the water spilling over his hands as splashing noises came from behind him and to the left. Jack wanted to relax and enjoy the sensation of the suds and the warm rivulets that passed over his skin, but the adrenaline rush had yet to wear off.

It didn't help when the sink next to him turned on, and Jack caught a glimpse of bright red hair. Fuck. The punk boy, fighting his urge to flee from the bathroom and slam the door behind him, grabbed a fistful of paper towels and meticulously dried his hands, hoping with every fiber of his being that the geek wouldn't talk to him. "I haven't spoken to you much...what's your name?" he asked. Damn.

"J-jack," he answered with a slightly squeaky voice. "What about you?" He tossed the paper towels into the trash and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Mark Fischbach. Or just Mark." He floofed his hair. "Or some of my friends call me Markiplier, it's really stupid but you can." The handsome boy blushed, and Jack found himself laughing. "I have a stupid nickname too - Jack Septic-Eye. I got a cut over my eye once, and it became infected, so one of my friends called me that one day and it stuck. What's the story behind Markiplier?"

"Oh, it was because I'm really good at math. But it's not my thing, you know? I like YouTube better, because you get to interact with your audience and form a community." Mark scratched the back of his neck. "So...you want to hang out sometime? I know we're pretty different, but I think we'd get along well. I mean, not if you don't want to or anything, because pressuring you would be really rude, but you-" Jack leaned in and kissed him, gently, right on the lips. It lasted for only a moment, but Mark felt like he had dived into the sun, glorious and hot and impossibly bright.

Pulling away, Jack sprinted across the bathroom, and the door closed firmly behind him. "Jack?" Mark asked, bewildered, staring at the spot where he had been.

******

"Ah, that feels like such a long time ago!" Jack exclaimed, his hand twined with Mark's as they sat on the park bench. It had been over a year since the punk boy had kissed the shy American, but it was still the most magical moment of their lives. Mark smiled warmly at his boyfriend, and pecked him on the cheek. "I was so surprised when it happened, but it was a dream come true. Have I ever told you I'd been crushing on you for months?" Jack blinked. "No, ye didn't...that's amazing, though."

Mark shivered slightly, and Jack shrugged off his leather jacket, draping it around the shier boy's shoulders. "So we graduate from YouTube Academy soon...are you going to attend a university and get another degree just in case things don't work out?" Jack shrugged. "I don't think so, YouTube is the only thing I want to do." He grinned. "Besides ye, of course."

The red-haired teen nodded and nudged Jack slyly. "Well, who wouldn't want to?" He sat back slightly, swinging his feet. "I don't think I'm going to get a degree either. I already know enough about engineering to get an entry-level job in that field, and...I feel the same way as you." Mark leaned onto Jack's shoulder, one hand gripping the leather jacket permeated with his comforting smell.

As the sun started to set, the punk boy took Mark's other hand, rubber wristbands swinging at the movement. "This is horribly cheesy, isn't it? God, I feel like an actor in some mushy love story." Jack shrugged. "At least I can brie with ye. If we were apart, I would Swiss ye terribly." Mark smacked him for the godawful puns, and rolled his eyes. "I ought to break up with you, but I like you too much for that. However, I demand that you buy me ice cream for that insult to cheese-kind."

"Ah, sure." Jack sighed, and the two boys started walking to the ice cream shop. "But for the record, it really was a Gouda joke."

"JAAAACK!"