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It was decided that after the mysterious incident surrounding the doors' locks that everyone had to share their room with someone. To prevent any accidents.
Mark ended up with the drag racer, Jett.
His first impression of him was loud, noisy, obnoxious, that was enough to meddle with Mark's nerves, even when he gave such an ugly face to Jett, he didn't stop being the little puppy he was. Dragging him around.
Something about Jett drew him closer. Perhaps the question left unanswered? After all, he had never removed that damn helmet. Could Mark or any of the others really trust him?
No... Jett could never be...
How could Jett even trust him? He barely spoke. He barely did anything important. Jett was clinging to him more than anything else. What did that really mean? Did he see him as an easy target? He must've. Like everyone else did.
He'd notice everyone's behavior as soon as he would enter some area, something close to glances full of malice, pity... It would make Mark retreat more into himself.
But Jett... Of course, he couldn't even see his eyes so he couldn't tell anything about his judgment.
"I'll even let you sleep in my racing car bed!!! Cool huh?" He interrupts Mark's thoughts by putting both hands on his shoulders.
"I can sleep on the couch." He says slowly prying Jett's hands off his shoulders.
"WHAAAT??? But I'm the host, you should be able to sleep comfortably!" Jett walks back and gestures towards the bed. "It's clearly big enough for us."
He proceeds to demonstrate that by laying down on the mattress, his body sinking into the soft material.
Mark sighs, as he watched the drag racer get in bed with his clothes on. Right... For what he had experienced by being near him, he knew that he didn't have good hygiene.
"Uh... You don't take off your clothes for bed?" He ends up saying while removing his jacket and the hoodie underneath, only wearing the stripped green shirt.
Jett curiously looks up at him, seeing the smaller boy in the loose shirt, "nah, this is part of the uniform! It's pretty comfortable and I stay cool 'cause of the fan on the back of my helmet."
That didn't mean that Jett had good hygiene though.
"..." He kept silent, removing his pants.
Since he arrived here, he had slept in his shirt and boxers as they weren't given any sort of sleepwear. Mark would do the same now in Jett's room.
He looked over, seeing the drag racer resting on the pillows with his hands behind his head, he was staring at the ceiling. Mark could see the slight movement of Jett's chest. Mark wondered why he was so secretive about his appearance. He wondered more about Jett than anything else at that moment.
The music producer slowly got on the bed, pulling the covers on himself and trying to make himself comfortable on one corner of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible from Jett.
The smell of the room bothered Mark a bit, of course he'd be more comfortable in his own room but if this prevented any murder from happening at night then he'd be fine.
"Night Broskii!!"
"Ugh... Good night Jett." Mark grumbled trying to fall asleep as quickly as possible.
He really is the unluckiest guy ever. First, he is put inside of a killing game and now he has to deal with his fellow classmate snoring next to him.
Mark moves in his half-conscious state, trying to fall asleep but his thoughts kept him awake. He swore that hours passed and he wasn't asleep yet... He couldn't say he wasn't used to it at this point.
After some time of shuffling and sighing in his sleep, he finally falls asleep.
✧ ────── ✧
It wasn't long before the morning announcement echoed through the room at 8 am, catching Mark and Jett in a trance, especially Mark, who was still exhausted.
Mark rubs his eyes open, trying to wake up properly. He got up before Jett did and quickly fetched his clothes on the ground.
As he headed towards the bathroom, he noticed the door with two items laying in front of it.
Envelopes with their names written on them.
Mark curiously goes forward and grabs his envelope, a bit scared yet not wanting to waste much time thinking about it.
This could be part of Tozu's play... He knew that, but it could be something from his life on the outside world.
But whenever he sees it... He's confused. A picture of a young man in a racing tracksuit with a wide grin next to some sort of vehicle which he could only assume to be... A dragster. A strange looking car he hadn't really seen before.
He hadn't seen the face in the picture before either. But he had to confess that he was pretty good looking... A nice, structured face composed by some gorgeous facial features, some sort of harmony that you could only see on magazines or TV. Dark-colored skin, deep brown eyes and short curly hair.
Could this be... Jett's family member?
The text on the back had something to do with the picture, but Mark hears footsteps approaching and hides the picture against his chest.
"Hey, good morning! What'cha doing there Broskii??"
"Huh— Nothing." He says, watching as Jett walks past him and picks up his own envelope.
With silence surrounding the two, Jett grabs the photo from inside the envelope and starts analyzing it. "Nyeh...? What's this?"
"What? What did you get?" Mark quickly gets nervous at Jett's reaction.
"I dunno... I feel like I shouldn't share this." He urges, clearly unsure on what to do next.
"If this is Tozu's plan to make us snap, then it didn't seem to work very well... He messed up every photo. It wasn't even mine in there." Mark sighs, carefully putting the picture back inside of the envelope without making Jett see it. "Either way, it's just some nonsense I don't care about."
Mark thought that the content of the pictures couldn't have been something serious enough to push someone to commit a murder. Everything was just so confusing.
"Uhm... I'm getting quite worried though..." Jett murmurs, holding the picture in his hand, from Mark's angle he couldn't even catch a glimpse of it. "It could be something important, who knows... Whoever this is."
"Just to be safe, we should probably hide these..." Mark speaks more seriously, feeling his heart beginning to pick up a pace.
"That sounds like a genius plan Broskii!" Jett says, stuffing the photo into the envelope and putting it inside of his pocket.
They both silently agreed not to speak on the envelope's contents again, as they both understood that it could have some seriously dangerous material, no matter how curious they both were. They decided to head down to the dining hall to have breakfast.
They saw a few people in the dining hall already, it was somewhat quiet for a moment, before Kai burst into room with a concerned expression on his face.
"Guys!! Did you also receive this strange envelope with a photo? Me and Damon did at least!" He exclaimed.
"Oh, so it seems everyone got one, correct?" Wolfgang answered with a question.
Mark stood there, quiet as he always was, thinking about the topic. So, everyone had received these mysterious envelopes, not just him and Jett.
Breakfast gets more chaotic once Damon walks in and heads towards his roommate who was clearly spilling his heart out about the envelopes and the photos.
"Yeah, we both received one." Damon said.
And after that, more people arrived and so while everyone was eating, Wolfgang started to encourage everyone to talk to their respective motives' owners, and so on... Mark was tuned out of the entire conversation as he munched on his cereal.
He looks over at Jett, who was sitting next to him and not eating. His plate still full and untouched.
The riddle of Jett's lifestyle seemed to confuse Mark more as the days passed, how could he eat if he didn't remove his helmet? Like, ever.
"I'll take this to my room, see you later broskii!" Jett speaks in his usual cheerful tone, grabbing his own plate and leaving after everyone was finally eating in silence.
Oh, that made more sense. Jett just ate in his room to avoid removing his helmet in public spaces. But why though? Why so many secrets??
Mark found himself caring more than he should've. Again.
✧ ────── ✧
Over the couple next days, he'd pretty much spent his time doing nothing. He didn't ask Jett about anything; he simply was on his own until nighttime arrived and he would go back to Jett's room to sleep.
Mark thought about how he had never seen Jett shower... While he had showered in Jett’s bathroom before, a pristine looking bathroom, no signs of someone living there...
Never once he had seen Jett change his clothes or his helmet, he had begun to doubt that he was actually comfortable in his own filth.
Why did he care...? Why did he think about Jett's well-being? Jett could just be a natural at this. Lazy and lacking hygiene.
But Mark didn't think it was being done on purpose. After all, he had been there in his depression too.
When washing himself used to be hard... He wouldn't do much other than being on his computer all day or staying in bed. His hair used to feel so gross on his own skull. His skin had rashes... Just thinking about it made Mark shiver. Despite him still being an anxious guy in general, he had been doing considerably better.
While he was aware that the others distanced himself from Jett because he stunk, Mark was just getting worried.
He had never felt like this before... Especially not when he was in the middle of a killing game.
✧ ────── ✧
The first death had happened, and it had been neither of the two, but it had weighted heavily on everyone. After watching their fellow classmate get brutally executed, they all returned to their rooms in silence and for once, Mark stopped feeling bothered with Jett's presence, recognizing that it was needed to keep them safe. Jett could never hurt a soul, could he?
Mark had just left the shower, getting ready for bed, as he finished putting on his boxer briefs, he looked over at his jacket and sees the envelope peeking out from the pocket.
Right. The envelope of the motive. He had an idea that he had Jett's, but he didn't feel like talking to him, after all, it could cause unnecessary headaches.
He ends up grabbing it after a couple days of leaving it alone. He takes out the picture out of the envelope and stares at the unfamiliar scene in front of him.
The man has a contagious smile for sure. He seemed so happy doing something he liked. Which could be the same drag racing modality that Jett also loves. He wasn't sure, even though Jett was the only one of his kind at the academy. It could only be his.
He finds himself thinking about the picture that he didn't even remember looking at the back. Mark quickly flips the photo and finds something written on it.
"The hot success of competitive racing had left him burnt for life."
Burnt. He was finally reading the back of the photo after days of forgetting about its existence.
Then... Could this be related to an injury? Jett is injured? Is that why he never showed himself?
He turned the picture once again, staring at it as the dots finally connected. This was no one else but Jett himself in the picture.
That could still be unconfirmed. Mark just didn't know what to believe.
He quickly shoves the picture back into his jacket's pocket and puts his shirt back on, leaving just a small towel on top of his head so he could keep drying his hair.
His anxiety is spiking up and he's dying to ask him, as he meets Jett at the door, he gets considerably nervous.
"You're finally done... What's up? You look pale as hell." Jett questions, seemingly worried over his friend.
Mark remains silent for a good minute, just drying his hair with the towel, thinking about what he should do next.
"Jett... I wasn't honest with you." He swallows hard after saying that. "I have your motive."
Jett immediately takes a step back, grasping at his belt. “What?! Broskii why are you telling me now? We promised not to say anything..."
"I know. But it can't be that bad... It should be safe now." He says, speaking over the fact that he is dying of curiosity. "I have no interest in finding my motive anyways—"
"I have yours Mark."
"Huh?!" Suddenly Jett calling him Mark made no sense in his mind.
They got each other's motives. How lovely and convenient for them. So even if Jett had got quite fond about Mark, he had chosen to protect his motive too.
"Y-yeah... I was a bit surprised but since you seemed so convinced that we shouldn't talk about it, I didn't say anything." He explains in his most serene tone possible. A soft side of him. "Rehehe! It was quite hard to understand at first but with the text on the back I was able to figure out."
Mark has gone silent, wondering what could be in that photo. "Will you show me it?" His voice shakes like he's scared of finding out something that he might regret.
"Sure, let me grab it!" Jett proceeded to take out the envelope from his pocket and then...
A picture of a younger version of Mark was present at the scene, playing the piano.
Mark doesn't even believe it, he stares at the photo with awe, either negatively or positively, he doesn't find it terrifying.
It was something he looked happy doing. Music.
"At first I thought it was Wolfgang or sum!! Then I realized it was broskii! Had no idea you used to rock the piano dude!" Jett sounded happy.
"Yeah... I used to when I was small, then I stopped having piano classes when I got my first synth." He replies, fairly enthusiastic...? He looked at the back of the photo.
"Quick spreading fire, just like the popularity of his musical career, by the end he gets burnt."
Burnt again? Mark had no idea why the text matched both photos, all having to do with fire and burns. It was a neutral memory, nonetheless. He didn't feel bad letting go out of the piano if it meant going over to the synthesizer. Either way he was unhappy with his work and he accepted it.
"Where did he even find these pictures? I mean, that looks super-duper old." Jett questioned on top of that.
Mark makes eye contact with Jett's visor now, thinking about the best way to confront Jett about the picture now that he had seen his own.
"I have no idea... He seems to know a lot about us." He clears his throat, grabbing his jacket and the envelope with Jett's motive.
Jett takes the cue to open it and as soon as he's facing the picture of the past. He is petrified. He recognizes the face in the picture, it was him. It was him next to an older model of his beloved dragster, the one he had before the accident.
That alone triggers a gut-wrecking feeling inside of Jett, it was pretty much automatic. He recovers many painful memories he had planned to leave behind.
"WHAT???!!! HOW THE HELL??? WHAT IS THIS??? HOW DID TOZU GET THIS????" Jett's reaction is far from what Mark had.
Mark watches with shock as Jett reacts hysterically to the photo, he seems very much hurt and scared, even if the picture's content seemed innocent to Mark's eyes.
He didn't understand, he didn't understand what had caused Jett to lose his mind. But he understood what Tozu was planning to do with these pictures. He begins to think that it was a horrible idea to show him.
Mark takes the photo away from Jett, preventing it from causing more damage. "Sorry. I had no idea it could be so painful for you."
If it couldn't be any worse, the drag racer begins to sob, chest moving quickly due to the harsh situation setting in, Mark had seen his face pre-accident, something he didn't want to happen.
He watched Jett break down in front of him, frozen in place, crying under a helmet, his protective shield, Mark couldn't do anything, he was never good at emotional crap.
Suddenly, Jett drops down to his knees and starts crying out loud, hugging Mark by his waist and pressing his protected head against his stomach. That catches him very off-guard, he had no idea what to do, other than letting Jett cry it all out.
"I'll never be able to feel that again... I'm such a failure Mark... I can't even feel like myself in my own skin! Not after what happened that day." He says between heavy hiccups, leaving Mark on his own with his own thoughts, simply holding still so Jett could cry onto him.
Jett didn't even care anymore, he was a filthy piece of shit, living in his own dirt and musk every day, people were disgusted of him, he firmly believed that if he wasn't dead, he would live in a new shell of himself from that day onwards.
Mark stood there. Listening to Jett's endless murmurs and self-deprecating words, Mark felt guilty for rubbing salt on an open wound, he should have known better.
There was no way he would have known.
Jett was hugging him very closely; it was rather awkward to stay like this but nothing Mark couldn't endure. He feels Jett's smell more intensely than ever now, the others were right, he had quite a distinguished aroma to himself. He reeked strongly of sweat and grease. But he wouldn't falter his position for anything in this world.
After a couple of minutes, Jett pulls away, still sobbing but more soft, he seems to realize that he put Mark in an embarrassing spot and got up to his feet, standing face to face with him.
Mark looked distraught, like Jett's cries had messed up with him real hard — they did.
"T-thank you and sorry..." He sniffles very faintly, rubbing Mark's shoulder as a gesture of gratitude.
"Jett, I'm so sorry..." Mark speaks very honestly now, from deep down his heart, he really wants to undo what he caused.
"It's okay broskii, this happens to me all the time!" He attempts to mask his emotional state with cheerfulness. "It's not yer' fault, this is some sorta stuff I'm dealing with at the moment, still."
Mark swallows heavily once more. "I just want to clear out my mind... That's you in the photo, right?" He asks, being careful with his words.
"Yup."
"You're... good looking." Those words go by faster than what Mark originally planned to say. He was an idiot.
Jett looks embarrassed, like he wants to clean his face, but he can't because of the helmet, so he has sticky tears drying on his cheeks. Hearing those words, he sniffles, trying to formulate a proper response. "I don't... look like that anymore. I'm a mess today… and the day after."
"I'm like a monster inside of my own skin. Waking up in the hospital after that day was the worst thing in my life, I looked down at my ruined body and was terrified of what I had seen, I then realized I couldn't run away from myself, I couldn't face myself, I couldn't face others."
Not a single hint of humor in those words, Mark is thrown back by his seriousness, Jett is truly agonizing under all those layers of protection.
He had caught a very important detail, which had implied that Jett had gone through a very horrible car accident, leaving him unrecognizable and burnt.
"Jett..." He began to say, before the words died off in his tongue.
"You'd be scared if I showed you. I can't handle it myself either."
Jett's hands were shaking, he was probably crying again, all that Mark did was get one of Jett's hands on his own.
They're both surprised by it for a second, Jett eventually eased into Mark's touch, even if it was through his gloves, he could still feel it like it was some sort of second skin.
"I promise I won't get scared, you're not scary at all." Mark huffs, thinking about how bad this could be. He could never think Jett was scary, not when he was the nicest guy he'd ever met here.
He had never seen any part of Jett, but he believed that nothing could change Mark's mind about him. Of course, he was initially annoying, and he thought badly of him because of his smell. But as he spends his days over with Jett, he begins to realize new things that make him so... attractive.
"I can't do anything right... I can't even take a bath without wanting to—"
He breaks down sobbing again; this time Mark let's go out of his hand and eases Jett into an embrace. On his own initiative.
Jett is crying and hiccupping in Mark's arms, Mark had just showered, yet he had got Jett's musky scent all over him again, not that he minded it one bit, not when he was doing a good job comforting the latter.
He feels so much better in Mark's arms, somehow feeling like he is equal to him makes him feel better about himself, almost like he had stopped being someone outside of his racing gear. Especially after the accident.
Jett felt his heartbeat so fast, almost the same feeling as he would experience when he won races back then. He didn't want to let go.
With one quick decision, Jett pulls away and tilts his head forward, closing the distance between Mark's lips and the surface of his helmet that resembled a coyote's muzzle, getting Mark to kiss him, pretty much indirectly, but for Jett... Now he had the wish for the real thing.
"Jett?" Mark blinks after pulling away, acting dumb like Jett hadn't just kissed him in his own manner. Because his heart was racing as well. And he had made a small kissy noise when kissing Jett's helmet, which meant he was expecting a real kiss too...
"Ehhm... No big deal, just a thing that coyotes do when they are too fond of their brosk—I mean bros." Jett shies away, like he was a kid running away after holding hands with his first love interest.
Oh goodness. They were both whipped for each other.
"Well, does that count as losing my first kiss virginity?" Mark mutters, scratching his neck nervously. He knows his stomach is fluttering with butterflies.
Jett is quiet, before he bursts down laughing, the sound of laughter filled the room and suddenly Mark smiled at him, wanting to laugh too but holding back.
"It can be anything you want it to be broskii!" He says, patting Mark's head and messing with his hair.
Mark lets out a quiet chuckle and pretends to do the same, rubbing Jett's helmet with his hands.
In that moment, they seemed very close to each other.
"I care for you Jett. I want to help." He says, leaving Jett startled with Mark's attitude. He was used to the usual dismissive and ignorant Mark.
"Broskii..." Jett is genuinely touched, that he can't help but pull Mark into another hug. "Promise me you'll stick with me, and we'll get outta this hellhole together..."
Mark couldn't say anything, he was overwhelmed with feelings. He knew how special Jett had been to him in the past few days. More than most people in his life, he felt wanted.
"You should be able to see me, all fair an' square..." He says, tugging at his collar with brief hesitation.
He knew he would feel bad. He would probably end up crying in front of Mark again, but he felt determined to show him what he was.
Before Mark could fully process it, Jett was undoing the safety buckles from his helmet. Both held their breaths subconsciously. Jett revealing his face to him was the utter sign of trust between them.
As Jett's face sees the light of day, Mark didn't expect to see long curls covering his face, more precisely auburn colored, just like he had seen in the picture. Obviously, his hair was very messy.
Jett places the helmet down on the table, instinctively bringing his hands up to his own face, feeling very self-conscious of his vulnerable state. "I can't do this. I look so bad." His words struck Mark, who watched the whole thing going on.
He still didn't get a good glance at his face, but hears Jett much more clearly, the tone of raw pain echoing through Mark's mind, who couldn't stay still for longer.
Mark takes a step forward, wanting to pull Jett's hands away from his face. "Jett, please look at me—"
"My eyes hurt..." He replies, the sound coming afterwards was unmistakably being one of a sob. Allowing Mark's hands to pull his own, he was willing to do that sacrifice.
When he did, Mark could finally see his face, he got very nervous seeing Jett's scars. His face was adorned with several burn marks, patches of his skin that never healed and were lighter than the rest of his body. His eyes had been left intact, but his lower face looked like something else... Mark could see some hints of facial hair there too, but not much.
Mark wasn't horrified, but intrigued. He had no idea what to say, instead he gently tucks a hair strand behind Jett's ear. Revealing that he also had burns and deformation there.
Jett cries in silence, he slowly opens his eyes and watches Mark treat him like a fragile animal. He is expecting a look of judgment. He is expecting mean words and crude ridicule.
Mark couldn't tell if he was doing the right thing. But then he ends up staring down at Jett's lips, like the moment before this had him thinking about what Jett's mouth might have looked like. His lips...
Jett's lips were roasted. Like his skin had been burnt permanently, but they still looked like something Mark wanted.
"Dude... I can't even explain what I'm feeling right now." Mark murmurs under his breath.
His hands move through Jett's tangled hair. Something he didn't think about doing before in his life, he catches a whiff of his natural scent, which was stronger than anything else by now.
Jett himself knew that Mark wasn't going to judge him for what he was. He had been more comforting than he thought he would.
"I smell, don't I?" Jett murmurs under his breath, eyes glossy with tears, bloodshot and miserable.
"Have you showered since we arrived here?"
Jett shook his head. Burying his face on his hands again, feeling very ashamed and weak.
Mark frowns, considering Jett's feelings, he was still stuck to the big reveal of Jett's face, as now he was able to visualize him better in his mind. "A week then—?"
"More." That confession alone caused Jett to shake, he looked like he was about to fall to his knees again, admitting that to someone he treasured.
"Jett, I understand that feeling, you don't have to be ashamed with me." Mark explains cautiously, as if he was talking to a wounded animal. "Do you want me to help you shower?"
Jett is surprised by Mark's words, he jolts slightly with a hint of embarrassment, he couldn't believe that he had gotten to the point that he needed help with basic stuff.
"Yes please..." He ends up murmuring after all, holding his hands in front of his face out of habit again.
Mark ended up pulling away, heading towards Jett's closet and seeing multiple spares of clothes, the same as Jett wore. It was like what he had in his room.
"I should... Take off my clothes then." Jett says with a tone that was nothing close to his usual bright one.
But Jett knew he was going to face it once again, he was going to feel it all on his skin, like the first time he woke up and looked down at his scars.
He wasn't worried about being naked with another person, it was more about looking at himself and seeing how he turned out to be, at least his suit caused him to forget everything for a bit and getting out of it was too hard for Jett.
Mark grabs a spare for Jett and heads towards the bathroom to place them on the counter, Jett was slowly undressing in the corner of the room. He looked so scared.
He sighs, proceeding to drop the towel off his head and removing his shirt, knowing he was going to shower again, this time he planned to help Jett.
Jett fiddled with the latches of his belt, taking off his jacket and revealing his torso covered in dark grey fabric, which connected to his neck, covering his entire body. It was a full bodysuit.
Unlike Mark, Jett was big, he had been taking a rest from working out since he had to avoid extreme exercise and sweating, he was unable to shower often after he had gotten all those scars. Jett ended up putting up a couple more pounds of weight, unable to keep up anymore.
He hated it all, but he learned to live with the burden of gaining a ton of weight. He saw Mark and thought about how he was so thin, almost skeletal. He knew damn well he was able to snap his bones easily.
Mark stopped in place when he noticed the drag racer staring at him, clearly nervous.
Jett removes his pants, leaving his entire body in just a thin layer of innerwear, his last protective layer.
"Uh— You can shower in your boxers, that's totally chill with me." Mark says, waiting for Jett to get undressed completely.
"Yeah, I'm just— Gosh this is so hard to remove!" Jett seemed to feel more at ease with Mark by his side, he reached over to his collar and stretches the fabric over his head.
Mark couldn't help but look at Jett, now he was showing more of his body. His unfortunate scars were spread everywhere on his torso. Jett seemed to have realized the seriousness of the situation and froze, feeling himself panic once he takes a tiny glance at his own body.
With one deep breath, he braces himself to take the rest of the suit off without having to break down again, he steps out of it while he had his eyes shut all the way.
Jett is standing fully bare, if not with just his boxers, he still cannot open his eyes because he knows that the fresh air on his skin bothers him more than anything, he feels every bump and ridge of his skin. Something that his innerwear protected him from.
Mark notices Jett's discomfort and takes him by the hand, dragging him into the bathroom, Mark hangs a towel over the only mirror in the room, just so Jett couldn't risk doing anything stupid.
Now what they had to do was enter the shower.
"Thank you broskii..." He says quietly, appreciating everything that Mark was doing for him.
Mark doesn't stay still, because if he did, he would risk staring at Jett, not out of disgust but simply because he found himself deeply attracted to the other man, he had to drown those thoughts as quickly as he could.
He started the shower, waited for the right temperature and sent Jett under the shower head, which soaked him instantly. The older gasps at the feeling of water on his skin, feeling all the grim and dirt run down his body for the first time in ages.
"The water's not that bad..." Jett ended up saying with a nervous chuckle, still having his eyes closed. When suddenly he feels a presence behind him.
Mark got into the shower as well. "Mmm... Second shower in a row feels good." He hears a small chuckle coming from Jett.
Jett wanted to block his thoughts as much as he could, but being in the shower alone brought back old memories. With one frustrated sigh, he begins scrubbing on his scalp, trying to get as much filth out as he could.
"Might as well pour some shampoo on there, mm?" He says, grabbing the shampoo container and squeezing it on Jett's head.
"Gee, thanks bro!"
Jett scrubs his hair more intensely, this time with shampoo on, he knows Mark is right behind him, yet that doesn't bother him. On the far opposite, it seemed to give him will to do things properly.
The shower goes on smoothly, Mark washes himself but not as thoroughly as Jett does, he seems to be doing well. He is handling his trauma very well, that thought made Mark's heart throb. He sees him struggling when he gets down to his body, recoiling at the feeling of his own scars.
"Let me wash your back." Mark offered, squeezing some body wash on his hands and rubbing it over Jett's back, he can feel everything, the texture of his skin was irregular and had multiple layers of skin, burnt and dead, that would take years to grow back.
But... He's also touching his friend's bare back; there's no way he had accepted to do this so easily. Yet he did, because he felt something so unexplainable in his chest towards Jett's suffering. Not exactly pity, but something deeper than that.
There was no sexual context for this, just two bros taking a shower together.
Mark washed Jett's back, moving his hand over epidemics of scars and burnt skin. Jett doesn't seem to mind as no words were shared.
"It feels nice..." Jett murmurs, continues to wash up, seemingly content for his achievement today. "Hey broskii! Can I wash your back too?" He says, turning around to meet Mark's eyes.
He looked like a sad wet kitten, meeting Jett's dark eyes. "Yeah, sure." He avoided his gaze, turning around as he faced the wall.
Mark shivers when he felt Jett's large hands on his slender torso, he could feel the rough texture of Jett's hands on him, his soft skin, the contrast between their skin colors. "Brooo... You good? You're pale."
"I'm already pale skinned dumbass." He grumbled with no real heat behind those words.
"Okay okay... You got'a point" Jett said with that usual excited puppy tone. Despite him running his hands pretty slow and gentle, Mark couldn't deny that he could feel some scraping on his back. Nothing out of the extraordinary, it was just Jett's hands colliding with Mark's soft, slightly covered in acne, skin. "Are my hands hurting you?" He said this time, now his tone slightly tinged with insecurity.
"They're fine, don't worry..." He replies, quite flustered, after all, Jett's hands had started to get to Mark's mind.
Jett's hands holding him down, Jett's hands running all over his body... Mark couldn't think about such things in that moment. Not when he was showering with Jett.
The shower keeps running while Jett ran his hands over Mark's back down to his waist, feeling the fabric of his drenched boxers. "Hey, that's enough." Mark pushed his hands away, trying to hide how bothered he had gotten by them.
"Sorry broskii, your skin feels s'nice."
That did not help Mark's feelings at all. He pretended that he hadn't heard that and turned off the shower, considering that they were both done.
After all, he was realizing that a massive sexual tension was growing between them. Mark was getting hard in his briefs.
He stepped out to grab a towel and wrap it around his body after giving it a quick dry. He proceeded to do the job of handing Jett a towel of his own.
"Phew... Now this feels much better." Jett dried himself off, now that he was able to distract his mind from his physical flaws, at least for a little. "Thanks to you bro! I no longer smell like a dead rat."
He feels some sort of warmth in his chest. Looking at Jett's wet hair, considerably better than what it used to be before, he just had to dry it now.
Jett asked for his help to do basic tasks, such as drying his hair and shaving his facial hair, it wasn't much, but they meant a lot to Jett in that moment.
Mark just kept up with it, getting closer to Jett like he never thought he would, he found Jett so attractive. His mind went incredibly dumb at times like these. When he was blowing Jett's curls with a hairdryer, his heart was beating fast. Whenever he helped Jett shave his stubble, his fingers slid across his jawline, getting a better grip on the tool so he could avoid hurting him. Mark couldn't help but stare, something about him was so dear to him.
After he was done, he allowed Jett to get dressed the same way he did, Mark slid his shirt back on for the second time in the night while Jett was putting his body suit back on.
It was nothing more than a two-piece skintight protection layer that Jett always wore, covering him from neck to toe. He couldn't help but feel relieved that he wasn't that exposed anymore. But he couldn't deny that he had a positive experience with Mark, he saw no judgment, no disgust and he felt like he could really trust him. Before he could even think, Jett hugs Mark, who was still drying his own hair with the towel.
"Jett..." He huffs out, pretending to be annoyed.
He is being hugged from the back. He feels his warm body wrap around his own, like a blanket. "Rehehe," Jett chuckles softly into Mark's ear, feeling surprisingly well compared to earlier.
That damn laugh. He hated it as much as he loved it. It was his laugh after all.
When Jett pulls away, Mark has the opportunity to face him. He could sense Mark's green eyes on his face, so with that, he had the instinct to hide behind his hands, no longer being hidden by the helmet he always wore. "Stop that, you look fine."
Jett peeks beneath his fingers, he wasn't wearing his gloves either, so he was well aware that he was covered in roasted flesh, spread all over his hands. "Feels weird y'know?"
"Come on, you can't be spending another night in that helmet, you should let yourself breathe." Mark sounds genuinely concerned that being enough to shut Jett up with his worries. "You're okay, I don't find you terrifying or anything— You're just unfortunate and that's alright, you still look good."
Those words being spilled between them had Jett's heart quickly picking up the pace in a very short time, he wanted to believe Mark. So, he strongly held onto those words.
✧ ────── ✧
Minutes passed and the room was quiet, they both laid on the same bed, Jett was out like a light and there was Mark still left awake.
His heart was still beating fast like he had acknowledged Jett's insecurity and made him feel better about it. He knew he would say all sorts of stupid shit about himself, but not Jett. At least not when he was displaying something so raw and genuine.
He thought about the way he had cried into his arms, something that pulled onto Mark's heartstrings, he felt conflicted. Mark wanted to ignore Jett and move on so he could ignore the fire igniting in his gut whenever it came to him.
Jett did this to him and he knew it. Fuck Jett Dawson. Fuck his cute little face. Fuck his unfunny jokes. Fuck his Scooby-Doo ass laugh. Fuck...
Mark had been staring at his sleeping roommate for a while now. Something about the way Jett slept so deeply next to him made Mark feel less like an abomination.
He could literally do anything to him right now. He could smother him to death with a pillow... stab him... Yet Jett didn't seem to care, it was almost as if he knew that Mark would never do something to him, maybe it was somewhat naïve coming from him.
This mutual sign of trust. (And also, because it would probably be too suspicious to stab your roommate when everyone knew you were sharing rooms with them...)