Chapter Text
Nothing about the days that follow are easy.
The apartment feels empty now without Felix around. In two weeks, he had gotten so used to his presence that it feels weird without him there.
Jack really is a lonely bastard.
Felix does end up calling, sometime soon, as he'd said he would. It's an awkward, ten minute conversation about how things with Marzia are fine now, and that if Jack ever wanted to hang out, to just give him a call, and that Marzia would like to meet him sometime, if he still wants to. Jack promises he will and ends it, wondering if he ever really will.
But it's not all bad. He's happy for Felix, and he really does want to meet his girlfriend. And now that he's trying to distract himself, him and Mark end up hanging out more.
He likes Mark. In some ways, Mark makes him feel safe, and he craves that, more than anything. He craves that sense of security. Mark doesn't seem to mind at all giving it to him. Whenever Jack shows up, invited or uninvited, he smiles just the same, so welcome and open and Jack could use more of Mark in his life.
Eventually, there are some days that don't feel so bad, that he doesn't feel so lonely and that he can actually think about Felix for more than ten minutes without aching. More often than that, though, his painful memories seem to slowly be replaced with fond ones.
Fond ones of Mark.
Days of okay turn into weeks of okay, and that in turn becomes days of good, and then weeks of good, until Jack feels like maybe he's finally putting himself back together, because he had sure as hell been broken before. The pain isn't gone by any means--but sometimes it dulls, just enough for him to think clearly.
Jack meets Marzia about a month after the whole dilemma. They have lunch together, all three of them, Felix included, and she is as beautiful and as kind as Jack had ever hoped her to be. Felix is entirely too nervous during the entire thing but Jack can see her appeal, and something about the whole lunch just gives him a sense of closure. Like it's all over. Their puzzle is completed and he doesn't have a part in it. That hurts, of course. It hurts knowing that he's finally got no chance at all.
But that gives him the freedom to create his own puzzle.
Jack spends that very same night with Mark, watching an old movie on the couch, the drawl of the music swirling throughout the living room. It's a nice distraction, especially when Mark begins to hum along to the tune. It sends shimmers of happiness through him.
Mark is too much--but in a really, really good way.
Jack won't admit anything about him, not yet. It's a little too early still, but time will uncover it eventually. Jack knows that--but no words are really needed. He just doesn't pretend to hide a smile when their fingers touch, and eventually intertwine, remaining like that for the rest of the night. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark is smiling too.
Whatever happens next, happens. Jack just wants to take the small comfort of their laced fingers, and the way that Mark shifts a little closer, their shoulders bumping.
Jack sighs. For once, tomorrow doesn't feel like something to dread. It feels like it's going to be pretty good.