"Come with me," Mark says as Jack finishes hanging his last sweatshirt up in the closet.

The Irishman laughs, falling back on his newly made bed, "right now?!"

Mark, almost bubbling with excitement, stands in front of him and grabs his hand, pulling him upright. "Yeah, c'mon!" The sun is setting, and in his mind, this would be a wonderful thing to share with his friend.

"Mark, I just finished unpacking, I'm tired." Mark doesn't reply to this, only shakes his messy black hair and drags Jack out of his new apartment. "Where are we going?" Jack giggles as he nearly trips over Mark's quick feet, unintentionally making Mark blush. It's been a well kept secret since they became friends, but Mark has a huge crush on Jack. Not like the 'oh he's kinda cute, it'd be nice to spend more time with him' sort of crush- no. Mark has the 'oh GOD is he looking at me? Please let him be looking at me! No wait, don't!' sort of crush, and it is highly influencing his actions. Never in a million years would Mark have grabbed his other friends' hands and lead them like a highly coveted trophy through the halls of their apartment building. He really dislikes being touched- but around the sexy foreigner with big, frosty blue eyes, he's a teddy bear who can't get enough touch. Just a simple brush of the hand is all it takes to send shivers up his spine and make his breath catch in his throat. But these interactions have no effect on Jack. At least, Mark didn't think so.

Everyday, Jack tries to look his best. Not for the videos he posts to YouTube, or for the selfies he takes for Instagram, but for Mark. He wants Mark to notice him- in a different light. Everyday, Jack also tells himself that his best friend couldn't feel the same... Mark is an incredibly attractive, tan, muscular man with thick black hair that falls so adorably into his face... And when he wears contacts, it's like his brown eyes absorb the sun and filter it out into delicate flakes of pure gold. Jack sees himself as a short, unmanly leprechaun with crooked teeth, greying brown hair and a scratchy voice that could stir a cave of deaf, hibernating bears. He's so sure that his chances with Mark are basically nonexistent, but can't help and wonder if the look on Mark's face when they hugged at the airport, the tender smiles they shared while unpacking Jack's luggage, or if the knowing looks Mark kept flashing were an indication of requited feelings or of disgust in knowing that Jack was falling for him.

It's a classic situation- two friends crushing, and the whole world watching as they remain oblivious to their growing desire for each other. Unfortunately, Jack never plans on saying anything about his feelings. He doesn't want to make Mark feel awkward around him. They're close friends, and Jack is content with that. But Mark isn't. Mark wants to hold Jack's hand without wondering how long is too long. Mark wants to wake up to the the sunlight peeking in the window after they'd cuddled through a storm. Mark wants to kiss those deliciously pink lips and slow dance the night away with his Irish stud. Mark wants Jack to know about his crush.

He starts slowly, placing his hand on Jack's shoulder as the elevator ascends higher and higher. Jack has an intense fear of heights, and he presses into the corner, clutching the railing like his life would be lost without it. "You didn't say we were going up," he groans through clenched teeth.

"Sorry," Mark smiles, leaning down so he can get in Jack's line of sight. "It'll be okay though, there's a railing all around the roof."

"THE ROOF?" Jack almost merges with the wall, his pale skin growing even paler as he nibbles on his lower lip. Mark finds this all very cute, but doesn't say so. His friend looks like he might puke at any sudden movement. When the doors slide open, he almost has to get a crowbar to pry Jack from the wall. They walk up the last flight of stairs, Jack leaning heavily on the banister, and Mark trotting up the steps before waiting patiently at the top.

"It's not that bad," Mark says softly, pushing open the door and holding it for Jack. "I promise." Jack steps cautiously onto the roof. He would be admiring the dimly lit patio-esque design, if he could get his thoughts off how far down the ground must be. Mark walks forward, expecting him to follow. When he realizes Jack hasn't moved, he sighs. "Come on, we could lay on the chairs if you'd like."

"Can't," Jack squeaks. Mark wants to roll his eyes, but instead he walks back to his friend and throws an arm around his shoulders, gently pushing him toward two identical lounge chairs with thick brown cushions. Jack shuffles forward, his whole body stiff with terror. Mark sits him down and reclines beside him, sinking into the soft fabric.

"See?" He grins, meeting Jack's eyes. "This isn't so bad."

"S'pose not..." Jack gulps, unable to look away from Mark in case he accidentally looks out and sees other tall buildings. It's nearly silent, nothing to be heard but the sound of faint breathing and the city bustling below. Jack almost smiles. Mark was right. This isn't so bad.

"So how do you like the city so far?" Mark asks suddenly to keep himself from falling asleep.

Jack chuckles, "It's insane, I have no idea how I'll ever find my way around. I'm still going to be lost by the time I decide to move back to Ireland."

"Well then I guess you'll just have to stay until you know your way around," Mark beams, stretching and staring up at the sky. His black shirt lifts up, revealing just a little bit of his stomach. Jack bites his lip and tries not to stare. Fucking Markiplier.

He shakes his head and looks up with Mark, "you wish."

"Well, I mean, you're a great friend, and you're fun to hang out with. So yeah I'm gonna wanna have you around."

"You know, for an introvert, you sure are friendly," Jack jokes.

"I'm allowed, aren't I?" Mark yawns, reaching his long arm across the short distance between the chairs and placing his hand on Jack's arm rest. Jack smiles happily at the closeness of the moment, his crush's fingers only an inch from his. "Do you ever see any pictures up in the clouds?" Mark murmurs.

"Sometimes," he admits.

"What do you see?"

"Now? Just a bunch of pink swirls," Jack lies. If he were being honest, he'd say that he sees two pairs of lips colliding, two figures holding hands, a heart and a bunch o' sheep.

Mark barely hears Jack's reply, and quickly states his own sights, "I see the warfstache. And a heart."

"Where?" Jack questions, even though he knows exactly where.

"Over there," Mark points to a fumbled mass of clouds.

"That's one messed up heart," Jack scoffs, trying to joke the tension away.

"Yeah, well, a messed up heart is still a heart. Just because it has its issues doesn't mean it can't find love."

Jack stays quiet, thinking over what Mark has said. He knows he has his issues, and he knows Mark has his. But does that mean they could find love in each other? No, probably not. Mark could never love Jack- he doesn't have time to think about that sort of thing. Even if he did, he's got girls lined up for miles. Why would he bother looking to some Irish man with greying hair and crooked teeth for companionship? He wouldn't. It's just plain crazy talk. Mark is Mark and Jack is Jack- they walk two different paths that may cross every now and then, but they'll never fully connect. As much as Jack has fallen for him since they met, He still can't allow himself to even consider Mark ever liking him back. But now that he's actually here, in America, to stay, (for a year at least,) He feels like he owes Mark the truth.

"What're you thinking about?" Mark's velvety voice pulls him back to reality. He'd been so deep in thought that he didn't notice Mark had scooted his chair closer and was turned on his side and facing him.

"Huh?" He stalls, barely glancing in Mark's direction, fearing that if he did, he'd climb on top of him and kiss his breath away.

"What were you thinking about just now? You were smiling, and then it disappeared..."

"Oh, ah," Jack stutters, trying to think of a feasible lie. "Back home."

Mark raises an eyebrow, but turns onto his back again. "That's all? It looked like some pretty heavy thoughts. You were really thinking hard too. You can't be homesick already, you just got here yesterday."

"It still doesn't feel real... That I'm here, in America, with ten million subscribers and my best friend in the whole world..." Jack breaks away from Mark's intense stare, but they continue to smile.

His heart pounding, Mark slowly slides his hand around Jack's. "Oh, believe me, Sean," he uses Jack's real name, adding depth to his words, "this is real."

Jack's fingers twitch slightly, unaccustomed to such warmth, but he doesn't protest. It's nice to hold hands with your crush, especially when they don't know how much it means to you. The serenity of the moment is unbreakable. Mark's heartbeat starts to steady as he caresses Jack's hand with his thumb. It feels so natural. The two of them touching is a deafening roar of satisfaction, like poking a thread through an eye of a needle on the first try, or flipping a coin and having it land on its side.

"What even is this?" Jack whispers, meaning Mark's hand around his.

Mark ignores him and stands, keeping their hands locked together. "Come with me."

"Where to now?" Jack rolls his eyes but gets up anyway. "Oh no," he stops, rooting himself in place when he realizes that Mark is directing him toward the edge of the building.

"It'll be okay," Mark reassures him, using his most calming tone. He adjusts their hands so their fingers interlock, and slowly brings Jack about a yard from the railing. He then grabs Jack's other hand and smiles at him, looking deep into his frightened blue eyes. "See? This is fine." Jack can't speak or move; he's stuck mentally and physically. All he can do is look up at his friend's suddenly loving gaze. "You're so adorable," Mark breathes, carefully letting go of one of Jack's hands and touching his now very pink cheek. He lightly traces his jaw, almost humming with delight at how smooth his skin is. Jack lets his mouth hang open slightly, his lips parting to reveal some of his teeth. He looks like a nervous rabbit who refuses to run because the feast in front of him is so grand. His thoughts race, making his heart struggle to keep up. Could this possibly mean...?

Mark leans forward, dropping Jack's other hand and snaking his arm around his back. Their bodies move closer, and Mark tilts his head before murmuring, "May I?" Jack's blush intensifies, burning against Mark's gentle fingers. Taking that as a yes, Mark closes his eyes and delicately touches their lips together. In an instant, Jack is able to move again and wraps his arms around Mark's shoulders, melting into the kiss. Mark's lips move cautiously, pushing no further than Jack would allow. They can barely breathe, but they don't want to anyway. The world is spinning in a pink and green haze, giving way to a whole new burning passion. They break apart for a split second, then crash together again, smiles working their way between them. When they finally split, Mark presses his forehead to Jack's, grinning widely. Their eyes are glassy, reflecting the setting sun.

"What-" Jack starts, his voice barely a whisper, but Mark cuts him off with a series of quick kisses.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," he sighs happily, taking a step back and grabbing Jack's hands once again. "I really like you, Jack."

"Really?" He gasps in disbelief.

"Really," Mark says sweetly. Their lips touch again, sending waves of fulfillment to their hearts. There's always been an undeniable energy between the two, a magnetic force that no one could understand... Until now.