TW: ABUSE MENTION

After watching the Lieutenant walk away, he continued his walk down the streets. A gentle breeze caressed his face, the tall streetlamps illuminating his way as he walked. Thoughts about the previous encounter tumbled through his head. He had thought that it had gone rather well; he didn't seem suspicious of him. Not yet, at least. There was one thing that refused to leave his mind, though... something that had stuck with him through their whole chat.

His eyes.

Jack had never seen eyes as dark or as brown as Mark's were. They were beautiful, like mesmerizing dark pools of chocolate that threatened to lure him in. They seemed to call to him, singing a sweet melody to bring him closer like a siren.

He feared that those eyes would be his undoing.

And they would, if he couldn't stop himself. There was no way he was falling in love again, especially not with a police officer! What would the Underground think? His reputation would be ruined. What would...

No. Jack shook his head, evicting the thought from his mind. He didn't matter right now. All he had to do was make sure that he didn't fall in love with Mark, and then everything would be fine. He could just continue on as he had before. He felt nothing for him.

Right?

His thoughts would have strayed more, had he not gotten a sudden text. Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, he saw that one of the agents from the Underground.

'We need you to hack into that convenience store on 42nd Street; Carl's Convenience, I think it was called. One of the criminals wants to rob it, and they don't want the police on their backs. So, just hack into the cameras.'

Perfect timing. Jack thought, sighing in relief. He welcomed the distraction, quickly texting back.

'Alright. Give me a few minutes.' Turning around, he began jogging back toward his house. It felt like forever since he had been offered a job. His feet pounded against the worn concrete of the sidewalk, his surroundings floating past him as he made his way to his house.

Eventually he did make it, slowing down and walking up the steps. Jack took off his beanie, going inside and setting it on a small hook on the wall. Closing the door behind him, the hacker made his way toward his room.

Hacking had always come easy to him. Give him a computer and a keyboard; there was no telling what he could do within just a few minutes. It was almost inhumane, how fast he could work. There was no firewall he couldn't get past, no string of code he couldn't decipher. He was one of the best at his job, and he knew this.

Jack slipped into his room, dimming the lights. He sat down at his computer, cracking his knuckles before placing his fingers on the keyboard. The familiar feeling of the plastic under his fingers urged him on, a sense of confidence flowing through him. Once he turned on his computer, the fun began.

A black screen appeared on his monitor, green strings of code lining the page. His fingers flew along the keyboard, the code reflecting in his eyes as he worked.

The only thing that broke the silence of the room was the clacking of his fingers on the keyboard.

After a minute or so, a ding resounded from the computer. He directed his attention to the bottom of the screen to read the text.

{WELCOME, ADMIN. PLEASE ENTER YOUR USERNAME AND PASSWORD.}

Jack typed the correct response into the computer's waiting answer bar. It was a simple thing, really, to find out the store owner's information. He didn't have the most secure accounts.

USERNAME: **********

PASSWORD: ******

LOADING...

{ACCESS GRANTED.}

{PLEASE ENTER A COMMAND.}

More typing.

/disable camera0.exe

/disable camera1.exe

/disable camera2.exe

LOADING...

{CAMERAS DISABLED}

A ding resounded his computer, confirming his success. Jack chuckled, a small smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced around the room. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed with a response from the agent.

'Good job, Hacksepticeye. You'll be paid shortly.' As they'd said, his computer dinged again to alert him that he had been paid. "Great." Jack hummed, a yawn escaping his lips. He'd been so caught up in his work that his tiredness had gone, but as the adrenaline faded away it was quickly settling back in. He turned off his computer, moving back from his desk. Another yawn escaped him as he changed into pajamas and slipped into bed.

As tired as he was... he couldn't seem to fall asleep. Jack stared up at the ceiling, sighing softly. Now that there was nothing he was focusing on, he found that Mark wasn't leaving his mind. The way the stars had reflected in his eyes, how happy he'd looked to talk about them. Every small detail of him seemed to fascinate him.

Jack still refused to admit that he had a fondness for him, though.

He tried to chase the thoughts out of his mind, to lock them up and never think of them again. It didn't work; time and time again, they kept coming back. The thoughts were like a virus that, even after thousands of tries, he couldn't remove. And he hated himself for the fact. Out of all the things he could break, this was the only thing he couldn't.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, staring up at the ceiling as thoughts about Mark swirled inside of his head. But after a while of thinking, he drifted off to sleep.

(TW STARTS HERE)

It was a nice morning.

Jack was leaning against the kitchen counter top, coffee in one hand as he looked out the window. He took a sip, a small content sigh leaving his lips. The house was full of silence for a change. Mornings like these made him believe that today could be a good and productive day.

Until his boyfriend got home.

Either he would leave in the morning and come back in the evening, or leave in the evening and come back in the morning. Today, it was the latter. Whenever he was gone, Jack relished those moments. In those moments he finally got time to himself, to do whatever he wanted without him breathing down his neck. Well, almost anything he wanted.

You would think that a criminal and a criminal would be able to get along great. But not with them. For Jack, it was like a living Hell.

It didn't use to be that way.

Suddenly the door swung open, Jack jumping a little in response. His boyfriend stumbled through, giving him a grin as he shut the door. "Morning, Jackaboy." He greeted, raising an eyebrow when Jack offered a small wave in return. "What? Are you not happy to see me, of all people?" The man questioned, making his way over to him.

Stiffening, Jack quickly replied. "Of course I'm happy to see you, Zeak! I'm just tired. Long night, y'know." He pretended to stifle a yawn, glancing over at him.

"Ah." Zeak stopped by his side, snaking an arm around his shoulders. Hesitantly, Jack rested his head on his shoulder, setting the coffee on the countertop behind him. He didn't try to push him off. Maybe, just maybe, today would be okay.

Oh, how wrong he was.

They stayed there in silence for a few moments before Zeak spoke. "What'd you do while I was gone?" He asked, taking one of Jack's hands in his free one. There was an underlying threat to his words.

"Nothing much. I just went outside and got the mail." Jack informed him. His boyfriend's grip on his hand tightened, eyes narrowing. "You what?"

It was then that Jack realized his mistake.

Trying to pull his hand away, he met Zeak's gaze. "I just went to get the mail." This was a familiar scenario that happened often. But, this particular morning, Jack felt rather fed up with Zeak's antics. He just wanted to relax.

Zeak's arm fell away from Jack's shoulders and his grip tightened even more, making Jack wince. "You know what I told you." His voice was low, threatening. "You aren't aloud to go outside without me."

The grip on his wrist was very tight now, likely to leave bruises later. "I only walked down the driveway. Why is that so bad?" Jack doubled his efforts to get his wrist away, but his grip was too tight. There was no escaping now. "Don't question me." Zeak growled, his free hand curling into a fist.

Suddenly, his fist came flying toward Jack's face.

Jack jolted awake just before it connected, eyes wide as he glanced around. The kitchen was gone, Zeak was gone; he was safe in his bedroom. Sweat had broken out on his forehead out of nervousness, and his eyes were blurry with the threat of tears. Blinking to get rid of them, he relaxed a little.

Another nightmare. Ever since Jack had ran from Zeak, his dreams were plagued with the thoughts of him finding him and hurting him even more than he already had. Sometimes they would replay memories of the times they had together. If he was lucky, he would dream of one of their good memories, before Zeak was fired from the Military.

But most of the time, he wasn't so lucky. Most of them didn't go too far, but the ones that did haunted him.

As much as he tried, he couldn't forget. He knew what Zeak was capable of, and it terrified him.

Turning over on his side, he tried to reassure himself. Tried to tell himself that Zeak was gone, that he couldn't hurt him anymore. It didn't do much, though.

In between his inner turmoil, the thoughts of Mark began to creep their way back into his head. And, just this once, he welcomed them. He allowed them to stay, even as he fell back into the lure of sleep.