Request from All_In_Due_Time

Angst/Fluff

Thank so much for 150K!

Love is fragile.

If you had asked Jack anything about fate or destiny and believing in such things, he would have laughed at you two and a bit years ago. Fate is a thing for fairy-tales and fan-fictions he'd grumble and that destiny didn't mean much to him either. Nor the whole soulmate thing, being limited to one person out of millions just never sat well with him. Only being given on soul person and that person will just have your heart regardless, yeah Jack disliked that truly. What if you didn't just fall in love at first sight? Or it was one sided love? The world must be beyond cruel to assign you a single person on the planet and for them to reject you just didn't seem well, fair. Maybe hes just cynical because hes never been in love himself, may-haps been close - but never fully in love. Jack thinks its a little overrated this whole love thing, sure love for family and friends is on a different scale but romantic love to him had always seemed like cheap valentines gifts and bad first dates.

But that had been two years ago, when he was down on his luck and unsure what the world had planned for him just knowing that whichever hand he was dealt with - he'd do something to change it or make it better. Because Jack isn't for one at just taking what hes given, rather fight it and do something else. Like going against the oceans current, some rebellious act against the world, to say that no he wasn't just going to follow some faceless people in a large crowd. A somebody in a sea of nobody's, maybe.

Yet when Mark had come along, things just did sort of change. Mark didn't fall into Jacks arms - not by a long shot, no romantic first meetings, no instant connection nor spark. Rather starting off with bad first impressions - Mark telling Jack that he looked like a wet weekend and was ruining the mood in his bar. Jack had argued back that there was no set mood in the pretty dull bar and that more than likely, people didn't come to the bar for the mood and demanded a drink.

And Mark didn't seem to get the hint that night, continuing small talk with the grumpy Irishman and normally he'd be enthusiastic about chatting to people but after the day he had, he was hoping his face would be enough to tell people to steer clear but the chipper raven headed barman didn't get the memo. Jack supposes he was just doing his job (with added extras) - and the alcohol was pleasant, a sweet burn in the back of his throat just enough to take an ache of working and putting up with bullshit out of his shoulders.

;

Jack no matter how Irish he was never did like drinking as a way to ease tensions, especially with the headaches and groggy feeling that came afterwards but today - today was an exception knowing no amount of black coffee would do what the alcohol just did for him. Its rare for him to be in a bar at such times and in the area but going home to his empty apartment didn't appeal to him either.

Still, he did answer Marks questions and respond to some of his chit-chat, crack a smile or two at some of his jokes. It did help lighten things a little so supposes it wasn't the worst interaction he had (minus the sass) There was something charming about the man behind the bar, looking like he belonged right there behind the harsh wooden bar serving drinks and chatting to other customers but always stopping by Jack when he wasn't.

Thankfully, when Jack does leave the bar (he only ordered the one drink but found himself staying for the bartenders chit-chat and left with no ache in his shoulders and forgetting the events of the day. Now heading home didn't seem too bad.

;

Jack found himself in the same bar a week later, but for a date instead - He orders some dutch courage from the raven haired bartender and after downing it in a gulp and making a face which made said bartender laugh, Jack goes to sit at the booked table and wait for his date. Its been a long time since hes done the dating scene - a little too scared and anti social in his life but decided to give it a shot anyway (after one of the middle aged woman had lectured him about it at work, saying it was weird for her to be quote: getting some and for Jack not) so here he is, leg bouncing out of nerves under the clothed table as he waits for said date. They had met on a dating site and upon exchanging jokes and messages decided to meet up. Jack had sort of given up on girls at this point so he figured he'd do something he hasn't since his teen years and date a man - a real, attractive man.

Well, that was his plan.

The date started out really well until it didn't - and Jacks not rude, but hell - this dude is really... boring. Hes trying to be interested but he keeps avoiding eye contact and looking around for something to bail him out.

Luckily, a certain raven-haired bartender had him covered. Mark rushes over to him in a hurry and hes hoping hes read Jacks expression and language right in his silent plea for help so he taps the man on the shoulder, and pretends to be in a panic.

"Jack, you know I normally wouldn't call you into work at this time but I really need help behind the bar since we're so short-staffed. Please help a guy out?" Mark murmurs, smooth and the mans eyes light up and he jumps at such a chance.

"I'm sorry, Jamieson." Jack utters, not sorry at all as he goes behind the bar to help Mark out.

To which he realizes he has never worked behind a bar before in his entire life.

;

Its a good thing Jack knows how to improvise. Because lord knows that's what he does, until his date finally leaves for the night at least hes still got some charm about him as he serves customers and acts like hes been behind a bar before. Mark is more than impressed, Jacks either a really good actor or he knows how to work a bar. Plus, hes a nice view from close and afar - a real eye-catcher. Like a diamond in the rough and Jack ends up staying for the whole shift, moon high in the sky by the time he finishes. It was nice to have something to burn his energy he always seems to have off during the night and to scratch his social itch that was long forgotten and Mark is a delight to work with surprisingly enough and he gave Jack a lifeline too.

Its just the two of them in the bar then, Mark receiving cash from the registering and pointing it to Jack, to which he declines.

"We're even. You bailed me out from that date." Jack laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners and Mark has to stop his jaw dropping because hell, the laugh is unfiltered and it tugs at Marks heart. His thought-to-mouth filter must have malfunctioned too because what he utters next makes him want to fling himself across the bar and into space.

The words carry perhaps a lot more weight than Mark realizes, a sense of how much he had grown to accept who he loves is who he loves - after all the repressing and pretending and losing people because they didn't like his true self rather his much more dishonest (and straight) character he had played for countless of years.

"Let me take you on a real date." Jack freezes, a soft smile brushing his features as well as his bushy eyebrows raising in question as if giving Mark a way out to take it back upon seeing the unsure glint in his eyes. Maybe a younger Mark would have bailed out, backtracking on almost forbidden words. But, Mark decides that he would in fact like to show Jack a proper date - decides he can do whatever he wants with whoever he pleases.

"Alright." Jack says, after awhile and Marks never been more relieved.

;

Jack didn't really believe in love because in his almost thirty-years of life he hadn't ever been in love; the dates and people he'd dated didn't give him butterflies or make him feel like he was above the clouds and special - and honestly, it just seemed like a kind of overrated emotion to him.

That was until a certain bartender had come rushing into his life and not quite sweeping him off his feet. There first date was actually kind of a disaster, everything that could have gone wrong going wrong, like the ferris wheel breaking down and Jack throwing up at the top, the heavens opening and soaking them both and the restaurant they planned to visit closed down for a rat invasion. Yet despite all of that, Jack still smiled and laughed at Marks jokes, still gave him a kiss at the end of the night; maybe it was the worst date hes ever had but with the best person nothing really is bad.

Jack had realized that love is absolutely nothing like what people make it out to be.

Love isn't valentines day gifts and dinner dates.

Its bringing food home at three am after a shift and leaving it in the kitchen in the morning for you, its a goodnight text that wakes Jack up and he can't find it in himself to be mad. Its arguments about dumb things and still asking if the other is hungry for pizza.

Maybe love isn't all that overrated.

;

Mark comes home after a long day, bag in his hands with a special gift for someone equally special. Jack is one of a kind because finding someone who still manages to laugh at your jokes after the date from hell is most certainly a keeper. Jack is sat on Marks sofa, controller in hands and ranting to himself as he does.

"I'm home." Jack almost leaps through the roof at Marks baritone so close but softens almost immediately upon hearing his laugh.

"Bastard." He grumbles with absolutely no bite, and Mark hands him the bag witht he gift in it. Jacks eyes go wide and curious as he peers inside, pulling a box out and opening it.

In the box, the glass and shiny almost diamond looking heart reflects in Jacks irises.

"Love is fragile and you have all mine."

Mark murmurs, almost shy as he does; and it makes Jack want to cry an overflow of emotions he can't quite pick out. The heart represents much more than just a simple, expensive looking gift. Its a representation that love is much more than devoting time and compliments; its giving them your heart and praying, hoping - the person holding it doesn't shatter it in their palms. Its a promise, never to go back to playing someone Mark never was, someone who didn't think they'd ever be able to love freely as he is now. The glass which could cut them; but cuts and wounds heal - you don't get another heart to give to someone else.

Its a weight to carry - Jack isn't sure how to react but he understands what it means. Understands that he too, has given Mark his heart.

Jack, is in love.

And Mark has given Jack his heart.

;

But, what happens when you apply too much pressure to glass?

It shatters and breaks.

Which, is perhaps exactly what happens to Jacks heart the moment Mark rocks home practically crawling into the bed beside him - it dips below his weight and he stinks of alcohol, cheap perfume and there's barely-there lipstick marks across his neck. The smell of alcohol Jack at least knows isn't from Mark himself - knows he doesn't drink. But then again, Jack thought he had known he didn't cheat, either. The fact he just lays beside him without a word, an awful excuse of an apology - just wordless, breath coming out in staggered pants. Jacks rage boils beneath his skin, as if he can feel the heat of it rising,rising,rising until hes about to snap. All he wants is Mark to say something - anything, to put out the flames burning in his mind.

No, it isn't what you think. But it is.

No, I didn't let her kiss me. But I did.

Mark hadn't realized that not meant compliments would turn into what had happened, the woman had leaned across the bar and kissed him right there and then, and a sick forgotten part of Mark had came rushing back a curse returning out of nowhere and he had kissed her back - the life he had pretender to be in - the role he had left returned as if it had never left.

And Mark fit back into the character so nicely. He had been the one to break, after all.

And then as soon as lips left his, lips that didn't belong to someone he had given his heart too, his honest open, true heart - the regret had kicked in and the memory of who he once was (who he isn't.) He had ran away from the pair, but the damage had been done lipstick marks across soft lips and upon his neck marks that didn't belong to Jack.

Marks mind is numb as he lays beside the man that isn't looking at him, glass heart Mark had given him along with his actual heart on the bedside table beside them. But how does he tell Jack that, even begin to explain what an idiot he had been thinking about past, thinking like he didn't have the love of his life he had met purely by chance, a chance which he had know blown completely and he knows so.

"I'm sorry." Is the best he can muster. Jack jolts a little, a mental open wound with salt being thrown into it at Marks words. Jack rises from their bed, Mark reacting to it immediatly, reaching out to someone that know seems so far away, clutching at whats left.

Jack turns to him, eyes glistening with tears and a sneer across genuine features. Jack doesn't find the words to really get through how he feels and what he wants to say but his action speak a thousand, venon filled angry words.

He reaches across to where the glass heart lays on the beside table - and like a cat knocking a fresh glass of milk over he shoves the heart forcibly across the room, it landing and shattering - glass shards everywhere and its a visual representation of what had happened tonight. Jack doesn't need to say anything after that as he walks out the door.

Mark doesn't chase after him, staring at the glass shards across the floor - but he knows it isn't just glass; its trust broken, its shed tears, bottled anger that strikes like lighting and mainly; a broken heart.

A shattered, broken heart - Mark had held something so fragile within his palms and with a little pressure, a little squeeze he had shattered it within his very palms a sick display of power he never really did need to show.

;

Jack comes back, but only to collect his things - barely meeting Marks eyes as he focuses on the task at hand and grumbles about certain things. Mark reaches for him again but Jack flinches away from the touch as if it burns, maybe it does.

"Jack please,-"

"Save it for the girl at the bar." 

Jack mutters and that tugged at Marks heart strings; but he somehow knows there's no stopping what happens and curse his deep-rooted self destructive self which likes to bring everybody else into the explosion. Truth was, there's no excuse - he had let her kiss him, he had kissed her back, he had heard his long-away mothers gushing about how he should finally settle down with a girl. But truth was, kissing the girl made him feel sick not just because of how much he hurt Jack but because of how its a awful throwback to who he once was, thinking that side - that character had disappeared but it hadn't, coming back to attack him and tell him this is how he should be how things should be.

But it isn't him.

Him; is cuddling with Jack at three am and going to work tired but happy - him is kissing Jack in public without a care because he can. But the sick twisted part of him had told him even still, that it wasn't okay, wasn't okay to be free and to love. The part that made him close his palms and shatter Jacks heart with it because Mark himself doesn't deserve to love, doesn't deserve Jack to love him.

And the devil on his shoulder wins again, as Jack mutters something about space and time, as he walks out the door to which Mark just lets him, another defeat under his belt because he gives up far too easily.

;

Space and time turn into months and years, small talk and broken greetings.

Until some twisted fate some wicked chance, appears and they meet after far too much space and time, far too much unspoken words and to-little apology's. Mark regardless of time would recognize irises that have never ending oceans trapped within them and all to familiar lips - and suddenly the chance is right there in the open.

And Mark, he grabs such a chance.

"Jack." Its breathed more-so spoken, asking for confirmation hes here in the flesh in front of him after too long.

"Mark?" There's un-dealt with pain underlining heavy accented words - and Mark wraps his arms around him without much else.

"I'm so sorry for everything, please, lets go for coffee and catch up or something." Coffee - Jack thinks, can fix a lot of things but he isn't sure a broken heart is one of them but still the words yes slip out his mouth before he gets a chance to fix them (even if he did get the chance too he doubts he would anyway because lets face it Jacks always had a soft spot for pretty boys with a deep voice to match)

And so they end in up in a place filled with too many memories none of them dare to address nor the fact Mark didn't actually face his own bar until weeks later - but still they chat between them, about the time in-between them and the changes in such a time. And from there Mark makes it known that he'll keep in contact with Jack to repair forgotten times and patch up old scars.

;

Ivory hands brush against resting ones, a question laying in gentle touches and a promise laying within the reaction of said hand, grabbing in a hold. Mark, after letting Jack go once, never ever did again and it shows in the way he reaches out to him; asking him not to leave and for the first time in his damned suppressed life he had let himself love another; and god, did he love Jack - and perhaps it was love at first sight.

And Jack well, Jack did go back to not believing in love but here, hands wrapped around Marks after a long time of repairing, he believed in whatever it was they had in this moment or the moments after - when Marks whispering sweet compliments in the dark or kissing him in the moonlight.

Because Love is fragile - and although it cant be shattered and broken, love is unrelenting and sometimes forgiving, too.

[I know absolutely nothing about love but here take this, utters the writer]