Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The car door slams shut. An ugly close up of Mark’s face takes up the screen, and the camera shakes as Ethan struggles to buckle the seatbelt and keep composure as Mark performs a variety of strange faces.

Ethan turns the camera on himself as he looks to his friend. “I, uh, I really really feel like we’re gonna regret this. Mark, oh my god, stop looking at me like that, I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean,” Mark says incredulously in reply, from off frame. The clicking of his seatbelt into place is audible. “What do you mean, it’s gonna be great! It’s gonna be all fine, and dandy, and great. You’re gonna love it.”

The camera is zoomed into Ethan’s face further. “Oh, that’s- yeah. That makes me feel great.”

Mark’s grinning face suddenly comes into view again as Ethan turns the camera on him, the film overexposed, bleached, and splattered red in the editing. 

“Brick soccer!”

-

Unus Annus, Ethan thinks, is probably one of the best ideas that he and Mark have ever had. Also one of the worst. It’s probably some of the best content both of them have made in levels of hilarity, but then, take into account the actual content and it starts to get a little muddy. He thinks that the fact that their first video got age restricted is pretty self explanatory.

Perhaps the best word to describe the Unus Annus experience is... cursed.

The next best word would be damning. (Ethan scrolls through Tumblr and the images he sees are not going to be great for his innocent reputation after he and Mark delete all the context.)

Mark and Ethan, wearing a gag and furry ears respectively, eating breakfast with paddles.

Mark and Ethan shove hot dogs into their mouths for ten minutes.

Mark and Ethan wax their pubes.

Mark and Ethan eat play-doh, talk about their first times, prepare for their deaths, watch porn by complete accident.

All the while becoming closer friends than Ethan could have ever prepared for. The second day of filming when Ethan “shoved a few too many hot dogs down his gobble hole” as Mark says, he lies in fetus position on the couch for half an hour in pain before Mark notices. Mark almost has to carry Ethan to the bathroom (while in pain himself) where he hovers over the toilet and Mark keeps a comforting hand on his back, in case his body decides to eject the food out his mouth again.

And that was only the second day.

He doesn’t even think so much about how they’ve both seen all of each other, physically. Ethan and Mark see each other completely nude a few times then and Ethan accidentally touches Mark’s dick a few times but it’s really nothing for them. To Ethan, he’s become so desensitized to those things around Mark that he literally doesn’t care - it’s more the emotional connections that happen during filming that gets him deep.

(Well - there was that one time that Mark sank to his knees for Ethan and literally blew him (or his inflatable ball) and the breath was knocked out of him at the image in front of him, like that time Mark stole the air from his lungs through the snot sucker, but Ethan blames it on his fanboy self from a few years ago that never really got over the fact that he and Mark were close friends. And yeah, Ethan can admit that Mark is really fucking attractive - if given the chance, Ethan wouldn’t mind making out with him.)

Despite the cursed content, and multiple near murders of each other and themselves during filming; despite the extra editing work he has to do on top of his own channel’s and the hours of filming... Ethan has never been more happy in his life.

He is eternally indebted to Mark for flying him out to LA, he thinks.

-

Mark wiggles his newly decorated toes and Ethan pretends to gag and shoos him away with a wave of his arm. The camera is off, but Mark refuses to remove the nails just to irritate his friend.

“What monstrosity have I created?” Ethan giggles as Mark taps his fingers together and reaches down to drag the nails through Ethan’s hair. “That- that actually tickles so much, stop!”

Mark does, but only after trailing them all over the other’s face and Ethan makes a face. “These nails are actually kinda fun,” Mark says, surprised.

In the corner, their new horrible nude drawings of each other hang on the wall. The lamp they used for lighting is still on, pink purple still illuminating the cozy surroundings and touching on the leather of the brown sofa. For a moment, there’s a settling of comfortable quiet.

“I,” Ethan says suddenly, then pauses. He wants to say something he is feeling so badly, but then he realizes he has no idea. 

Their discussion of how they had gotten to where they were had him spiralling. How Mark had called him up because of one meeting at PAX, and how through so many of these decisions that Ethan found himself here. Washing Mark’s feet in cold water.

“Hm?” Mark hums, distracted as he gathers all the nail supplies. Ethan can’t help but gaze at him admirably as Mark comedically squints at two of the boxes.

I’m really happy.

I’m really happy to be with you every day.

My life is so good because of you. Thanks for being such a good friend. 

“I love you.” SHIT. Fuck, why did I say that.

“NO! Wait, I guess. Yes. As, uh, a friend, obviously! But I was just thinking that, my life has changed, so much, and I’ve just been having the happiest time of my life. Because you were kind enough to fly me out to LA just because I did a backflip for you once.”

Oh god, Ethan doesn’t know how to stop himself from talking. All the feelings that had started building up for months and a few years now and touring together and performing and just everything-

“I’m so forever indebted to you and I’ll never be able to repay you for all the good you brought into my life. Thank you for being my friend, and changing my life.” Ethan spills, feeling like barbed wire has found its way into his throat and his eyes start to feel wet.

The room is quiet for a moment. He can’t bear to look at his friend.

“Oh my god, I know I cry at everything,” Ethan says in horror as the tears in his eyes begin to pool. Mark’s face has trekked through an adventure from surprised pikachu, emotional whiplash lag, to Kirby-is-baby soft. Ethan rubs at his eyes. “But I don’t know why I’m crying at this, your ego does not have to get any bigger, jesus. Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

Mark looks at him in a way that Ethan has only ever seen him look at Chica. “Aw, come here, you big baby,” he coos, a little jokingly, but he leans down and pulls Ethan in a hug anyways as they both giggle a little. 

It’s nice. Ethan can feel Mark’s steady heartbeat right up against his own chest, that’s fine. Mark smells like, really good, too. What in the hell does he shower with that made him smell so good? And he was warm. And also completely naked under his robe, oh god. Ethan decidedly shoves down anything he feels about that.

“Y’know, you might as well have just given a love confession,” Mark says into Ethan’s shoulder after a while. His deep voice seems to penetrate through Ethan’s core.

“Oh my god, I’m never talking to you again,” Ethan shoves him away, laughing and a little red, but Mark is grinning at him in the softest way he has ever seen and he feels warm in his heart.

“I love you too!” Mark coos at him. Then wiggles his toes again.

Ethan hates him. Ethan’s heart hasn’t received the message yet and almost bursts out of his chest with joy. (Not at the toes.) Ethan’s heart hasn’t melted in this way since Mark kissed his hair during the Undertale livestream.

Are normal people this soft about their close friends?

Chapter Text

Ethan is generally a very tactile person. When he’s bored or upset or excited, or anything, he tends to find something to do with his hands. Like his hair, which he touches and messes up and runs his hands through at least once every five minutes. He got himself a rubix cube so that he could fiddle with it but now that he can solve it so quickly, it doesn’t provide a lot of fiddling potential.

Unfortunately for the people around Ethan, they happen to be the next best thing.

Touching wasn’t just a sensory thing; Ethan likes to show people that he trusted them through actions and not words because he’s so bad with words. Just resting his chin over a friend’s shoulder when they’re talking to other people, or simple shoulder touches, high fives, hugs.

Fine. He might also be a little bit touchstarved, but that’s besides the point. (He just wants one good long cuddle for once, okay? Or even just a really long, really good hug.)

Anyways, it’s inevitable that Ethan touches Mark. Not only because they’re going to be filming together for so long- also because Mark is one of Ethan’s closest friends and after the embarrassing “I love you” incident after the nail salon video, Ethan tells himself to never try to impulsively talk about his feelings around Mark again. He feels a little weird having put himself in that position in front of Mark, and although the other man hasn’t seemed to changed his behavior at all after the incident, Ethan feels a little jittery around Mark now. So instead he bothers his close friend through lots of physical contact.

But Mark has started being weird about it, especially recently. Ethan doesn’t like it.

-

Ethan can’t remember when the “don’t touch me” bit started. Once it got started, Mark brought it back almost every single video. Ethan hates to be a downer, but it really bothers him. Even if he knows that it’s a joke.

They’re brushing off the glass debris off of their protective jumpsuits at the Rage Grounds, their head gear already taken care of. Mark is busy batting at his back with his gloves like a madman. 

“Mark, hey, lemme get it for you,” Ethan says after watching his friend struggle for some time, and steps closer to brush some of the glass dust.

“Please don’t touch me,” Mark says exasperatedly.

Ethan jerks back, feeling like he’s been slapped. Mark has never told him that outside of filming Unus Annus videos. 

Mark doesn’t know what he’s caused, and Ethan stumbles a few steps back and mutters an “okay” before Mark seems to realize. He turns around suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m so sorry. I forgot we weren’t filming, it was totally automatic.” Mark says apologetically.

Ethan shrugs it off, tells him it’s okay, hoping that his hurt doesn’t show on his face. Never has he seen Mark be unwelcome to his other friends touching him.

After that, Mark doesn’t ever tell him to not touch him off camera again, but every time he does, with just even the slightest knee pat or shoulder touch, Mark stumbles over his words immediately, and almost shies away. And while he rejects Ethan’s touch, he seems to seek him out himself.

There’s one morning when Mark and Ethan are scheduled to film something outside, and Mark drowsily shows up to Ethan’s place beforehand so they can go together. Ethan’s freshly out the shower and still in the middle of making breakfast, and knowing that Mark was up the past few nights working his ass off, he sits him down at the kitchen counter and declines every single time Mark asks if he needs help. His friend is clearly exhausted, out of it, and sleepy and he could use some taking care of. 

“Jeez, did you sleep last night?” Ethan asks, noticing Mark’s wild hair and glasses that mean that he’s too tired to put in contacts and dark circles under his eyes.

“Nope,” comes the sleepy reply.

As Ethan scrambles the eggs in the pan, there’s a sudden weight behind him and he freezes up as Mark drops his chin on his shoulder, dark hair tickling Ethan’s ear, eyes closed.

“Smells good,” he says, mumbling, nudging his nose into Ethan’s neck. (Whether Mark means the eggs or Ethan himself, he doesn’t know.)

“Thanks,” Ethan manages, staying very still and staring very intently at the eggs in the pan, trying not to melt into the floor. Mark’s chest was very warm. Very firm. Deep voice that vibrated all the way down.

A silent moment passes when Ethan pokes his spatula (an actual one this time, thank you very much) at the pan, hyper-aware of the way Mark was pressed to his back. He blurts out, “I thought you didn’t want to be touched by me.”

“Oh,” Mark mumbles. To Ethan’s disappointment, he steps away. “It’s just a bit. We’re friends. Friends touch all the time.”

“No, I know,” Ethan says. “It’s just, you’ve been weird about it.” You’ve never been weird about it before, and I miss it, is what Ethan doesn’t say.

Then Mark looks confused and a little sad and he looks so tired so Ethan grabs him by the arm and sits him down onto the couch to take a few minutes of a nap.

“Bu’ we need t’ film,” Mark objects, but he’s already half asleep.

“Screw that,” Ethan says, turning off the stove. When he checks on his friend again, Mark is asleep, curled up on the couch.

“You idiot,” Ethan mutters quietly, seeing Mark’s peaceful face, the rise and fall of his chest, and for some reason, there’s a sort of aching in his chest. Ethan removes his glasses, setting them aside. He reaches a hand out instinctively, he wants to run a hand through his hair and it feels right to kiss Mark’s forehead or something, but he stops immediately on second thought. Mark apparently doesn’t want him to touch him, and he wants to respect him.

Ethan can’t understand what’s going on that thick head of Mark’s, but he hopes Mark gets over it soon, because although he’d never admit it to him, he really misses him.

-

The crackhead energy in Ethan is never stronger than when he’s around Mark. He’s never had better chemistry with anyone else. It’s a crazy concept about how they even met and became friends. He can’t imagine a universe in which he never met Mark, and their personalities mesh so well, and Ethan’s not sure if it’s mutual but he feels like they were meant to be friends. 

They’re trying to plan out a schedule to film together and thinking of ideas when Mark brings up, “Hey dude, have you ever stared in a video outside of Wade’s tour vlog?”

“Stared?”

“Like, stare stare. When you cry all over the place.”

“Oh.” Ethan thinks. It’s sort of funny how Mark knows so much about him, including his occasional tendency to stare and cry. And yeah, though others might say that he knows exactly the same amount about Mark, he’s had years and years of watching Mark and admiring him through the screen. “I don’t think so, no. Why?”

“We should do a staring contest!” Mark says excitedly.

He ponders over it, tapping the pen against the counter. They’re back in the kitchen, golden sunlight streaming in through the windows. He absentmindedly reaches down and pats Chica, who has laid down next to him. “I feel like that might make a boring video, though.”

“So… we create stakes!”

“Like what? Oh man, wait, don’t do anything ridiculous, please. Mark, I swear-“

“Ah, you big baby. We’ll figure it out. Put it on the paper.”

He does. And they film it eventually.

Ethan ends up being the one editing the footage, and when he watches it over one more time he has to pause the video multiple times because he’s too busy giggling. He doesn’t mean to toot his own horn but god, how did he and Mark manage to make a staring contest entertaining? Even Mark says it himself in the video.

Unus Annus is making him enjoy editing videos again. He’s so glad they actually decided to take an off hand idea they had and actually made it happen.

Editing videos is kind of strange, especially for Unus Annus, because suddenly he can watch back all the footage and he realizes how… close he and Mark are. There’s a few moments in time when Mark goes all giggly and does the laugh where he throws back his head after Ethan does something funny and Ethan can’t help but notice just how fondly his friend looks at him. Along with fond teasing and joking.

He almost blushes for his past self who has missed it.

But what was he talking about? Ethan’s just overly emotional about these things and Mark is just always sweet around everyone. Like what Tyler had said during the tie-dye video, Mark has a large soul. (And a medium penis.)

He needs to stop fixating on these small things. Of course, there’s tons of more embarrassing moments for himself when he trips up all over his words and does questionable things when the camera is on. And how much he tries to touch Mark by accident. And accidentally causes lots of comedic moments when he makes a fool of himself in front of Mark.

Jesus. Ethan scrubs his hands over his eyes and squints at the editing software again. He really needs to focus on getting this video to Mark soon so that they can schedule it to post, and he needs to stop distracting himself by paying so much attention to how he and Mark interact together so well.

(He just thinks it’s a little bit scary how well they click together, okay? Nothing else. Really.)

Chapter Text

Listen. Ethan swears it started as a joke, because it did. He’d been buying groceries for Kathryn and himself when he’d turned into an aisle and came face to face with a whole freezer row of Sour Patch Kids ice cream.

Of course, his mind immediately jumps to Mark and the dumb tactical shovel.

Mark recently was extremely busy, elbows deep into multiple secret projects and behind-the-scenes work. So busy that the other day that Ethan had been over at his place, he’d tried to look in the fridge for a snack, and it had essentially been empty.

“Mark?” He’d called up the stairs. “Why do you have no food?”

“I don’t?” came Mark’s reply, and a moment later he was clambering down the stairs and joining Ethan in the kitchen. “Oh, I guess I don’t. I’ve only had time for, like, fast food this week.”

So now, the Sour Patch Kids ice creams stare at Ethan from the fridge. Goddammit, Mark really was on his mind so much nowadays.

Ethan loves food, Ethan loves cooking, and Ethan also loves his friends, so naturally he looks at the empty space in his shopping cart and decides that he could buy some groceries for Mark. He picks out some basic foods, like toast, eggs, some vegetables and meat that he’s seen in Mark’s fridge before and shoves them into his cart. 

He ends up having to lug way more bags from the check out to the car but he doesn’t mind it too much.

Ethan barges in through Mark’s door (Mark had given him the garage key code and the front door key a while ago) carrying an armful of groceries.

His friend is sitting at the counter with his laptop and a pair of headphones on, so he doesn’t see Ethan yet. Dark hair a mess, a cozy sweater on. Fondly, Ethan watches his friend suppress a yawn before he calls out jokingly, “Babe, I’m home!”

A giggle escapes from Ethan when Mark splutters in response, pulls off his headphones, and stares at him in incredulity. “Sorry, what did you call me?”

“Oh, sorry, babe ,” Ethan replies with a grin, setting down the bags and going over to see what Mark is doing. His friend is answering emails. “Didn’t know you didn’t like being called pet names.”

Is Ethan just imagining it, or is Mark blushing? Oh, so that was Mark’s weak point; cliché, cheesy things.

“Nope, it’s just that I’m so big and strong and I’ve got a huuuuge dick, no one calls me petnames,” Mark retorts, bringing in his asshole voice.

“I’ll call you whatever I want to!”

“Oh, will you?” Mark says, and oh no, he has an evil grin on his face and Ethan regrets literally everything, even though he has no idea what is coming next. “I’ll call you whatever I want, then, babe, pumpkin pie, baby blue sapphire gem, blueberry muffin, honey .”

Mark’s smile and voice is dripping with syrupy sweetness and for some dumb reason, oh god, Ethan’s face starts heating up and Mark’s just called him ‘honey’, he cannot handle this.

“Shut up,” Ethan half giggles and half whines, then he shoves at Mark, who’s smirking at his reaction.  

“Okay, baby, whatever you say,” Mark says, and his eyes fall on the grocery bags at the doorway. Ethan’s heart gets caught up on ‘baby’, there’s something so loving and casual about it, his heart stutters slightly. Ethan knows that Mark is literally going to continue this joke for an eternity and he groans internally, Ethan will absolutely melt into the floor from embarrassment and softness at some point. “Why’d you decide to intrude into my house, are those things for a future video?”

“What?” He follows Mark’s gaze to the doorway. “Oh, no, this is, uh, food for you.” He makes his way over to the bags, picks them up, drops them on the counter next to Mark’s laptop. “I noticed you were in some dire need of non-fast-food food the other day and I was already at the grocery store, so I bought some stuff.” He pulls out some things from the bag. “Toast, bacon, stuff like that. Nothing fancy though.”

Mark doesn’t reply for a few seconds. Ethan looks up to see his friend with a surprised look on his face.

“That’s for me,” Mark says, to clarify. Ethan nods. “Ethan - you, aw, that’s really kind of you. You’re so good.”

And at those words heat shoots up and down Ethan’s body, what the fuck , he needs to chill out, but Mark’s just told him he was good and-

“Wait, Ethan, how much money did you spend, you bought this with your own money?” Mark suddenly exclaims. “Dude, get over here, where’s your receipt, I’ll pay you back.”

“Absolutely not!” Ethan says, giggling and backing up when Mark reaches out grabby hands at him. “Not allowed.”

“Ugh,” Mark says. “Fine. I’ll just come with you next time you need groceries, I’ll pay for them. Okay, angel?”

Ethan trips.

(And that is how Ethan and Mark end up grocery shopping together from then on. And also how Mark keeps calling him the cheesiest pet names in public. Ethan swears he is going to literally melt into the ground one day.)

-

Mark will not leave his mind. Everything Ethan sees just reminds him of Mark. It’s kind of a curse.

Mark is, just, everywhere in his life now. He spends almost half his day, daily, at Mark’s place now. Not even for filming. Just because he can, and Ethan doesn’t like to be alone for too long. And Mark, the introvert, doesn’t mind at all, with some sort of miracle. Kathryn has noticed, and she’s joked to him, “You should just move in with Mark at this point,” and it’s worse how Ethan can actually see it happening in his mind.

And when he isn’t over at Mark’s place, Mark is over at his, him himself or just his presence. Both Ethan and Mark aren’t particularly neat so Mark always leaves a jacket, or a scarf, or just something, all at Ethan’s place. Eventually evidence of Mark is literally everywhere - his cheese spread in his fridge, his hoodie hung over the back of a chair, one of his phone chargers plugged into the outlet in the living room. 

Ethan is always being reminded of his friend, and it’s a little terrifying, how much their lives are intertwined. Hell, they even go shopping together now because it’s always a fun adventure and sometimes they cook for each other when the other is busy, and sometimes they walk the dogs  for each other - holy shit, Ethan thinks, they’re being domestic , and they’re not even boyfriends.

Absentmindedly, he picks up Mark’s hoodie. It’s from Cloak - Ethan has the same hoodie himself - and it’s worn and soft and undoubtedly Mark’s, by the way that there’s a bit of Chica’s white fur on it.

And he doesn’t know why, he just knows that he hasn’t been able to properly touch Mark recently and he’s touchstarved, with his weird behavior, and there’s this aching in his chest that started to not go away ever since he started noticing Mark’s presence embedded into his life. Ethan can’t help but tug it over his head and put it on, and he can’t help but notice the way it’s just slightly bigger than his own hoodie, and it smells really good.

Ethan decidedly shoves down anything he feels about this, and any thoughts that come bubbling up. He’d deal with whatever this means later.

That night, he sleeps in Mark’s hoodie, and he’s never felt more comforted.

-

The goddamn pet names have not stopped. In fact, they’re increasing in frequency.

When they’re at Home Depot, they go to check out some other stuff outside of the video to buy drywall. Because, right, Mark punched a fucking hole in his wall. The camera is off, and Mark is back on his bullshit, inserting some cheesy nickname after every single sentence. Ethan has literally no idea where it all comes from but he curses Mark’s amazing ability to pull everything out of nothing. 

Mark is trying to reach something under the shelf, way in the back. “Ethan, you think you could grab this for me?”

“Ugh, fine,” Ethan teases, and grabs it for him. When he finally gets it dislodged and pulls it out, he holds it out for Mark. “Here you go.”

Mark takes it with one hand, and then he pulls Ethan in by the waist and tilts in and, Ethan’s hair tickling his cheek, kisses him on the forehead.

“Thanks, darling,” Mark says affectionately, and then he’s going.

And oh, Ethan’s brain is gone, he’s short circuited, his heart is skipping every other beat, he can feel the pink rising to his cheeks and he almost drops his camera, oh god.

And the aisle wasn’t even empty, there’s an employee there stocking the shelves, and she’s definitely seen the forehead kiss, because she gives him a knowing smile.

He spends the rest of the Home Depot trip in a daze. Mark either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t acknowledge the fact that he’s just completely ruined Ethan with softness. After they check out and Ethan is grabbing his giant stilt poles, the employee lady he’d seen earlier comes by, and he looks up as she approaches him.

“He’s a keeper,” she says, with a wink, gesturing vaguely toward where Mark is checking out. “Y’both are so cute.”

“Oh, I- Thank you,” Ethan stammers, and before he can even think of correcting her, she’s gone, and he’s left yet again blushing and internally melting into the floor.

Afterwards, Mark and Ethan are buying the hot dogs, and Mark asks him curiously, “What was that employee saying to you at the check out?” He pauses. “She, uh, she was pretty cute.”

Ethan blinks at him. “I guess? It wasn’t anything weird.” He doesn’t mention that they were mistaken for a couple. “Just checking that I checked out okay, really. Did you want to talk to her?”

“Oh, okay. No, no, I didn’t.” Mark says, and then their hot dogs are handed to them and he’s thanking the cashier and gives Ethan a smile. “Let’s go, munchkin.”

Ethan can’t even begin to process everything at this point. Really, what was going on.

-

Ethan’s phone vibrates with a notification. Then another, and again. He’s chilling on the couch, Spencer all cozy next to him, watching Netflix under some warm blankets. He goes to check it, patting around to find it under the covers. 

Asshole (aka mark): You left your beanie here!

Asshole (aka mark): And I almost thought it was mine, cuz it’s Cloak

Asshole (aka mark): Anyways I’m gonna go to bed

Asshole (aka mark): Good night, sweetheart <3

Ethan stares at the last message. He really cannot handle this.

“Spencer, c’mere,” Ethan gives Spencer a few pets and a kiss on the nose. “The goodest boy in the world. Can you be my therapist for a second? Mark just sent me ‘good night sweetheart’ with a text heart, I don’t know what’s going on. And I can’t, I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s so dumb and so sweet and funny and I really can’t.”

Spencer licks his hand in response.

“I don’t know what’s happening, it feels like something’s changed, Spence. I’ve never been so… close. Or just, so good, with a friend. And we’re so domestic, and we’re not even dating, but god he’s so amazing and also hot and he- you know we got mistaken for a couple?” Ethan rambles.

“And- yeah, I know he’s joking and exaggerating but god it’s just so sweet and- I just love being his friend and being around him, and it’s scary how close we are. Just- he’d be such a good boyfriend, and I just really like him.”

The words spill out of Ethan’s mouth before he can even comprehend what he has said. And-

Fuck.

He has a crush on Mark. A really, really big one.

Chapter Text

They’re setting up for some new videos in Mark’s recording room, messing around in Photoshop. 

Mark has his jaw cradled in one hand and the other arm crossed across his chest. He’s squinting at the monitor in front of him, head tilted in the way that he does when he’s thinking too hard.

Ethan watches his friend deliberate over the format of the video, rocking back and forth on his feet. They’ve already gotten a few filmed already, and the slight performer’s buzz Ethan gets from being in front of the camera is fading into a pleasant satisfaction. Running a hand through his hair and checking up on the camera angle though, there’s just the slightest tension in his chest. 

Ever since his discovery, things have been weird. At least for Ethan. He can’t help but do a double take every time he sees Mark because his heart sings, and there’s the beat of feathery wings in his stomach, oh, this is the man you want to be with.

It’s really, really not fair. Of course Ethan would do something like this, an absolutely fucking cliché, falling in love with one of his best friends.

The recording lights are on, playing over the surfaces of the desk and playing over Mark’s dark hair, framing his profile and dusting over his eyelashes just so.

Ethan rocks back on his feet. Stares. Goddamnit, why does Mark have to be so pretty ?

Ethan knows that he shouldn’t be this affected, because a crush shouldn’t intensify so much just because he found out it existed. But being aware of it has made Ethan hyper-aware of their interactions and how they looked in the cameras and literally everything.

The last video they recorded, Ethan had already stumbled over so many more sentences than usual, and he had to keep tearing his eyes away from his friend to pay attention to what they were doing on the monitor. Hopefully it wouldn’t be noticeable through the recording, but to him, it had felt like he spent the entire video flustered and nervous, and-

“Hey bub, you good?”

Ethan blinks. Mark is looking over at him concerningly.

“Yeah, hah, I’m fine.” Ethan rubs his eyes and stares intently at the monitor, where Mark has set up a couple of images up in the Photoshop file. “Hey, when’d you start using ‘bub’? That’s my thing, you’re turning into a Northeasterner.”

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me,” Mark tells him with a fond smile, then he reaches over the desk to get something. Meanwhile, Ethan is left trying to regain the breath in his lungs.

The situation doesn’t get any better as the day goes on. When Mark starts the recording, Ethan is so engrossed in the way Mark’s arms look when they’re crossed that he forgets what they’re doing and the entire topic of the video. Stumbling through the intro, he accidentally keeps blocking Mark’s recording light and making his friend get increasingly comedically irritated. 

A few hours later, they’re starting their last video of the day. It’s Ethan’s turn to come up with an intro, and funnily enough, it’s about love. The video is about them ranking and categorizing random things according to the 8 different kinds of love according to the ancient Greeks.

Mark pushes the record button on the camera before Ethan has any sort of time to think. He just opens his mouth and suddenly he’s rambling.

Uhh, quick, just say something!

“What is love? That is the question on everyone’s minds.” 

Something suddenly catches in Ethan’s brain. There’s something at the edge of his mind and he thinks it might be a good direction to follow but he just needs to chase it down. 

“Is love an emotion that truly exists? Or is it just a combination of electricity and a whole bunch of chemicals in the goop that is our brains? Do human beings inherently experience love and like many say, live to love? Or,” Ethan pauses, dramatically slams his hands onto the desk, and stares into the camera. 

And suddenly the words are right there.

“Has society’s view of love been tainted and corrupted by the way modern media portrays love and we spend our entire lives searching for this unrealistic ‘one true love’ that really doesn’t exist and every sort of attraction we feel is intensified because we feel pressured to feel like what we see in books and poems and movies?”

A long pause. Ethan can already see how he’s going to edit this, zoomed in with all the dark filters and dramatic ominous music and intensifying the pace of the last sentence. Then, he’s going to cut everything back for a stupidly lighthearted segment.

Ethan steps back. “Anyways, we’re gonna be ranking types of love. By the ancient Greeks.”

He looks over to Mark, and his heart skips a beat. Ethan has literally already forgotten whatever the fuck he just rambled about off the top of his head, but his friend’s eyes are full of humor, doing the squinty eyed smile as he surpresses his laughter.

“Gosh, Ethan, what type of a break up have you gone through?” Mark teases through a chuckle, and Ethan just shrugs, full of pride for making his friend laugh. 

“A horrific one, apparently,” Ethan says back with a grin.

The filming turns out really good. Ethan is pretty excited to see the end result.

-

Later, as Ethan is editing the footage, he watches past-Ethan ramble for the intro, hits pause, and buries his head into his arms.

Because of course all his problems decide to manifest themselves into his videos for all to see. Ethan is completely terrified of having a crush on Mark - the universe really just didn’t like him, of course he had to be the dude to fall for the guy he used to fanboy over. Of course he had to be the dude to fall for his close friend who he used to work for and now works with on almost a daily basis. 

Ethan blames it on society and the dumb chemicals in his brain.

“This is ridiculous,” he tells himself, out loud to his empty room.

Meanwhile, some absurd part of his brain wonders if he’ll ever tell Mark. The answer to that quickly silenced question is an absolute “fuck no”, because:

1. It’s probably the most embarrassing thing Ethan has ever gone through (yes, including The Backflip) and, 
2. Mark absolutely will laugh at him because what is Ethan to him but just a friend who he teases all the time for acting like a baby and,
3. It will devastate their friendship as it is.

Maybe if Ethan keeps quiet about it for long enough, his crush would go away. After all, he would be working with Mark through likely some disgusting things for Unus Annus, and maybe he’d see Mark do something gross and suddenly not like him anymore.

Ethan will not admit how soft and gooey his heart goes every time he’s around Mark now. And how happy it makes him. He will not.

-

Quickly Ethan realizes that this would be harder than he thought, because Mark is smart and funny and kind and sweet to the point where it hurts.

Even as Mark is doing something like shoving food into his gobhole or pulling that Dumb Markiplier Joke Face, it brings a lighthearted joy to Ethan just to see him being a goof.

So yes, Ethan comes to the obvious conclusion that this crush that he has on Mark, his friend , is absolutely going to be a problem.

It’s the middle of the night and he can’t sleep. Every time he tries to quiet his head and shut down his brain so that sleep will come, he can’t stop thinking about Mark.

And it’s unbearable. It’s not just the warmth and softness and giddiness he gets from just hanging out with him. There’s the ache in his chest that has increased sevenfold since he’s realized that he wants Mark to stay in his life for as long as he can look to the future, and be more to him than just a close friend.

It just doesn’t make sense to Ethan. How did he develop a crush on Mark? His friend that he knows so well that he probably shouldn’t still like even after seeing his worst times? 

And- 

When did it even happen?

That’s the one question that Ethan cannot stop hooking onto; it’s all so blurry and it feels so right, it’s like there never was a time his crush wasn’t there.

Ethan can’t pinpoint a single moment that he particularly started to like Mark, from the moment he’d come to LA, he’d been enchanted and enthralled and infatuated by his YouTube idol, then a role model, but then somehow even more as a friend, since the very beginning.

From before Mark knew who Ethan was, probably. The times when Ethan would routinely watch Mark’s videos under the covers of his bed in Maine, the volume turned down low. Sitting at his desk, headphones snug over his ears, giggling quietly at the Let’s Play in the background as he does his work.

From then to now though, something changed from the simple admiration and adoration of a fan to a deep affection and fondness of a friend. 

Somehow, that in a way, makes Ethan feel almost guilty to be thinking the thoughts he is. 

Restless, Ethan rolls over to face the opposing side of the room and blinks drowsily into the darkness. 

He just wants to sleep . And he’s just so tired of having to strangle down the giddy flight of dove wings by his heart every time Mark smiles at him, the way he feels like he melts into the floor whenever Mark calls him “chuckles” or points out his “ADHD brain” fondly, and the way he feels like he’s won at life when he teases back that Mark himself has ADD and therefore isn’t allowed to say that and Mark rolls his eyes at him.

Almost instinctively, Ethan reaches for Mark’s hoodie that’s folded on the nightstand and pulls it under the covers. He’d meant to return it, but he kept forgetting to. Or it just felt a little too nice to have something of Mark’s in his own room.

Ethan noses into the fabric, burying his face in its softness. It still smells like his friend.

A wave of guilt rising up from his gut is overwhelmed by the way it seems to envelope his heart in warmth.

The faint scent of pine is the one comfort that finally quiets his thoughts and lures him to sleep.

-

“At least let me do the other side,” Mark says.

Ethan squirms under the other’s gaze. “No really, it’s fine, we should have filmed enough footage for the video anyways.”

With the camera on them while Mark had given him a massage, it had been incredibly difficult staying calm. He’d almost shrunk into the table and into the floor. Although they’d done it a million times before, now it seemed too intimate in a way, shirtless and laying on the table in front of his other friend.

His muscles are close to being cramped by how tense he had been the entire massage, ironically. Ethan can’t help but to feel guilty when the warmth of Mark’s hands are so close, and he inches away at every touch, praying to whatever that Mark can’t feel him shiver with every glide of skin on skin.

“I wasn’t even trying for the video, and I’m a good friend who gives his friend proper massages. ” Mark insists.

“A good friend who forgets his friends’ birthdays,” retorts Ethan, muffled into the pillow.

“I- Hey, that was a long time ago! And I know it now. I put it in perfectly accurately when we filmed the astrology video. Just let me do you a favor.” 

Ethan can’t understand why Mark is being so insistent on this. He pushes himself up. “Are you just trying to do this so I’ll owe you a favor later? Because-”

“Lay you and your ass back down, oh my god.” Mark eases him back down with a gentle shove on Ethan’s shoulder. “I just feel bad, your skin’s all red. And you look like you got clawed by an animal.”

“Thanks to you,” Ethan mumbles into the pillow, defeated. “I don’t understand you.”

“What?”

“I said,” Ethan says, craning his neck to make eye contact with his friend. “I don’t understand you.” Quietly, he draws a shaky breath as Mark lightly runs a finger down the curve of his spine. 

“I actually think you’re an amazing person with a lot of potential, and you just have been working so much lately, and with working out, this might help you,” Mark says, and presses his palms into both sides of Ethan’s lower back. “Maybe I just want to make sure my favorite co-host isn’t too overworked, sweetheart.”

A rush of heat rises to Ethan’s cheeks, and he almost chokes on his next words. He pretends to gag. “Oh my god,” Ethan manages, pushing himself up and slapping away his friend’s hands, forcing down how good his touch really felt and swallowing down the guilt. He masks his panic with a laugh, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Okay, okay, okay, nope, nope, nope.” 

“You baby,” Mark tells him with an exaggerated look of being offended, and he’s joking around with him - Ethan lets himself become relieved, because Mark seems none the wiser about his strange reaction. “Wow. Can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

“Never have,” Ethan sings out.

“You liar, you moved across the country for me.”

A pause. “You got me there,” Ethan says, and they both start laughing.

Ethan’s looking at Mark like the sun glinting off the ocean. (Too bright to not hurt, but too pretty to ignore. He’s so, so fond.)

(This is normal. Ethan can handle this.)

-

A video they’re filming at night turns out way more difficult to film than they expect, and by the time they wrap up, it’s almost 3:30AM. They’d filmed at Ethan’s place so as Kathryn has already gone to bed, they’re trying to be quiet. They silently work in sync, cleaning up the room and putting props back into cabinets. 

It’s pouring heavily outside, which is abnormal for LA. Ethan takes one good look outside and knows that with how tired Mark is (Mark’s sleeping schedule is offensively healthy and he usually sleeps before midnight) and the limited visibility, that it probably wasn’t a good idea for Mark to drive home. 

“Do you wanna stay the night?” Ethan asks him, and Mark sticks his face against the window to see what’s happening and he grimaces.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Mark replies, squinting into the darkness. “It probably won’t rain for long.”

Ethan watches as his friend suppresses a yawn and shakes his head. “Yeah, no, c’mon, you can sleep upstairs. It’s no big deal.”

Mark protests a bit, but finally gives in after Ethan insists. Somehow, Mark seems to remember that Ethan’s not so fond of the dark, and he lingers behind to shut off the lights as Ethan leads the way upstairs. 

And oh fuck, suddenly Ethan is reminded that he is thoroughly unprepared to see Mark in the morning again, waking up and seeing him first thing in the morning with no filters or anything. Eating breakfast together, sending him home with a goodbye before they would film together again in the afternoon.

A restlessness that’s been constant recently but subdued is inching back. Ethan uncomfortably tugs on his sleeves, shakes out the tension in his arms, makes his way upstairs.

He sticks his head into his room and makes sure it isn’t entirely chaos before flipping on the lights and letting Mark in. “Lemme grab you some spare pajamas or something.”

Mark is marveling at the little souvenirs everywhere, the framed posters on the wall, the lighting. “What? Oh, no that’s fine, I sleep without clothes on anyways.”

Ethan knew that but he did not want to think about shirtless Mark walking around his apartment. “Okay! Lemme know if you need anything, I’m just going to be downstairs, then.”

“Wait, are you not going to sleep?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch?”

Mark blinks at him, then frowns. “Like hell you are. Dude, you should’ve told me. I’m the guest, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Ethan rolls his eyes at him. “You’re the guest , so you sleep on the actual bed. I’m young and limber and I can sleep on the couch, I don’t want to hurt your old man bones.”

“Hey!” Mark says, indignant, as Ethan grins at him. “Okay, whatever, your bed is big enough for two people. Let’s just both share the bed.”

Fuck, that’s worse. Shirtless Mark in his bed, within two feet of him, is definitely something he cannot handle.

God, he hates his feelings.

“What?” Mark says, at Ethan’s hesitant face. “We’ve done it during the tour, it’s no big deal. Don’t go all dude-bro on me here.”

Ethan wants to just tell him that I didn’t know I had a crush on you during the tour , but he knows that Mark is going to be stubborn about this until one of them died so he sighs. “Fine, we can do that.”

Mark grins triumphantly. (Sometimes, it was really starting to feel like Mark knew exactly how Ethan felt about him and was just trying to torture him.) 

“Wait, is that my hoodie?”

Fuck . “Uh, maybe?”

“Eh,” Mark says, clearly too tired to care. “I’ll take a look at it tomorrow.”

They banter a bit over brushing teeth, and Ethan gets changed for bed. Usually he sleeps shirtless as well, but he absolutely wasn’t going to be doing that around Mark. He intentionally waits around in the bathroom for a little longer so he doesn’t have to see Mark get ready to sleep.

The restlessness and the tightness in his chest is suddenly overwhelming as he looks into the mirror. When he gets back to his room, it almost feels like he’s suffocating. His anxiety has been worse lately, about his career and life things and everything, but he hasn’t felt this bad since before he started going to therapy.

Before he turns off the lights, Ethan presses his forehead to the cool wall and tries to breathe in for four seconds, hold it for seven, release it for eight. 

“Eth,” Mark says gently. “Are you okay?”

Ethan gives a quiet, “Yeah, just tired,” and flicks off the lights.

He does the same breathing exercise as he climbs into bed, staring into the darkness as his vision adjusts. 

Fuck, he can’t fall asleep like this. He flips his pillow and turns to stare up at the ceiling.

Apparently Mark hasn’t been sleeping, because when he looks over, his friend is already blinking up at him. “Can’t sleep?”

Ethan lets out a breath. Six, seven, eight. “I’m really anxious and I don’t know why.”

This is something he’s never quite discussed with Mark before. He’s pretty open with it on camera on his own channel, and he doesn’t purposely hide it, but it’s never come up.

Mark is quiet for a moment. “Have you been taking your meds lately?”

Ethan tries to remember. He took his antidepressants last Sunday, maybe. “Fuck, I totally forgot.” Of course it would be his own fault, forgetting to take his meds for such a long time, how had he managed to forget them?

“Hey, it’s okay, you can go take them in the morning.” Mark says, voice calm and soothing. Ethan presses his hands to his chest to try and relieve the tension. “When’s the last time you had a hug?”

Ethan blinks. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh,” Ethan says. He doesn’t know. Usually they’re short lived and goofy. He can’t remember the last time he got a proper hug that lasted long enough.

Mark reaches for him, starts pushing lightly at his shoulder. Ethan complies and turns away, although confused. “What are you doing?”

“I’m fucking hugging you,” huffs Mark.

Ethan’s breath catches in his throat as Mark drapes an arm around Ethan’s waist, his chest warm against Ethan’s back. A full body shudder runs through him like electricity, and he swallows thickly, melts into the touch. He can feel Mark nosing into his hair, and he almost thinks that he feels the press of lips at the nape of his neck.

And he feels so safe . This is exactly what he’s been missing and the tightly coiled snake in his chest begins to unwind, slowly. But he doesn’t know if this is allowed, if he’s allowed to want this from his friend.

“Relax,” Mark tells him softly. “Whatever you’re overthinking, it’s okay.”

The tightness in his chest that’s been there for days and weeks and possibly even months, soothed, drains from his ribcage, and suddenly, Ethan is sinking into the warmth of Mark’s embrace and the softness of the pillow and the mattress.

Ethan falls asleep. (He falls asleep to the faint scent of pine, and Mark’s soft breaths tickling at the back of his neck, safe and quiet.)

Chapter Text

The first thing that Ethan registers when he wakes up is how warm it is. 

He almost goes to push all the covers off of himself, until he realizes that the warmth is a someone and that someone is curled up against his back.

Oh. Right.

Mark is holding him.

Inhale, exhale. The comfort settles into the folds of the blankets, into the creases of his shirt.

Ethan feels like he should be slipping out of his friend’s arms quietly and sneaking away before the other wakes up, or at least panicking slightly, but this is all he has ever wanted. He should probably get up and take his meds before he forgets, again, and his anxiety starts becoming overwhelming, (again), but for now, he’s never felt more safe and comfortable and loved. 

It’s still mostly dark outside, meaning it’s still early, early morning. He’d forgotten to close the blinds, and through the window he can see a faint pink-yellow-peach halo of clouds right above the horizon from the east, right before sunrise. 

The world’s been turning fast lately, and suddenly now, time has frozen.

Ethan feels more well-rested than he has in months. His head feels dazed in a lighthearted way, a soothing mist opposed to a heavy fog.

The fact that he won’t have to get up any time soon drapes over his entire body like a heavy blanket of relief, a false promise that he might be able to stay like this forever. 

Ethan tells himself that if he tries to duck out of the warm safe shelter of his bed, Mark might wake up. (Or maybe he just wants to be held by the man of his dreams for a little longer.)

Somehow throughout the night, their legs had become more entangled than when they’d fallen asleep, and Mark is closer than ever. His arm, a grounding weight, curled protectively around Ethan’s waist. The slow rise and fall of his chest, a steady reminder of his presence.

Carefully, slowly, Ethan shifts and turns slightly in Mark’s arms, careful not to wake him. It’s a miracle to get Mark to sleep past six in the morning, and this is just an anomaly, a strange alignment of the stars - Ethan doesn’t know how they’d gotten here at all. And whether or not he’s referring to the current moment or the entire intertwining of their lives, he can’t say.

Ethan blinks up, Mark’s face mere inches from his own. He’s rarely ever seen Mark relax, always so busy and motivated and active, so it’s comforting to see him so peacefully sleeping now. His friend works himself much too hard most of the time, in Ethan’s opinion.

Mark’s eyelashes rest against the curve of his cheekbones, hair falling into his face. Tentatively Ethan reaches up a hand, brushing it back.

There’s something about the stillness of morning that romanticizes everything.

What would it be like to be able to have this every day? To trust each other like this, in company even at their most vulnerable states? To be able to tuck himself into the space under Mark’s chin, freely hold his hand at any time of day?

It’s quiet. The room is washed in blue. 

Blue hour, thinks the photographer in Ethan, and he’s so tempted to grab his camera, record this before it fades away, because he knows he will never be able to experience this again.

The gentleness of everything, the soft crinkling of the covers within the stillness of the morning. It almost feels like they can stay this way forever, safe from anything else. (Memento mori be damned, Ethan’s quiet fear of everything falling apart one day stings like a constant static in the background. But it’s early morning, and these thoughts would be drowned out by the others when the sun came in.)

Ethan shifts to face away again, because his heart aches too much. He closes his eyes again. He’s not allowed to have this, but he can’t help but take what he has now.

He plans on staying awake, so he can take as much of Mark’s touch as he can before it’s gone. But the softness of the covers and the heaviness of Mark’s arm is pulling him back to sleep like the tide, and eventually he gives in.

-

Mark is awake, and he hasn’t pulled away.

Ethan knows this because Mark is tracing light patterns over the bare skin exposed just under the hem of Ethan’s shirt. It’s so careful that it almost tickles. 

The sun is up now, its light giving the room a pale yellow glow. Particles of dust dance their way up to the ceiling in the beams of light.

It doesn’t make sense that Mark wouldn’t just get up now, go home to Chica, tease Ethan a little for his forgetfulness or needing to be held to sleep. But he’s still here.

Ethan cannot understand him.

It’s a little bittersweet. Ethan still hates his feelings. He can’t get too attached to this, he knows, because it’ll hurt so much to never be held like this by Mark again. Why did he start liking his friend, where, when? (It still makes no sense to him.)

Before Ethan can think about it for too long, Mark seems to realize that he’s not asleep anymore, because he nudges him on the shoulder with his chin gently. “Awake?”

“Yeah,” Ethan replies, voice barely there, rough from sleep. Mark lets up his arm, so Ethan can turn to face him. But he doesn’t move any further away. “Thought you’d be leaving by now.”

Mark is intoxicatingly close. “Was waiting for you to wake up first. Are you feeling better?”

How will Ethan continue to move on from this life once he’s known this? God, he’s been craving Mark’s touch for so long, and now that he has it, he doesn’t know how he’ll pull away.

Ethan hums in response, to distract himself from the sting behind his eyes, and sinks further into the pillow. “Yeah, I am now. I should go take my meds though. You really didn’t have to wait.”

“I wanted to, don’t worry,” is the response. 

Ethan doesn’t know how to interpret the look that Mark’s giving him, and it feels too intimate. He drops his gaze and shuts his eyes, hoping that things might go back to the way it was before, before he knew any of this.

He can almost feel Mark’s gaze on him, and its weight. Swallowing, Ethan opens his eyes again to meet Mark’s, something at the tip of his tongue, god, he’s so bad with words. “I…” He blinks. What in the world is he trying to say? “Shit, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Mark reassures him, but Ethan’s aware that neither of them really know why he’s apologizing in the first place.

Mark’s looking at him in a way that almost seems familiar. 

The air between them is expectant, like something is about to fall into place.

Then suddenly Ethan hears the familiar pad of paws against the floor, and the moment is broken. 

In the blink of an eye, the world starts turning again.

“Hey, Spencer!” Mark says. There’s the shift of weight on the mattress, and Mark’s reaching over and lifting Spencer up onto the bed - then Spencer has stuck himself in the gap between Mark and Ethan, and is licking him all over the face, and Ethan’s giggling.

“Mornin’, Spence,” Ethan laughs, sitting up, shying away from the onslaught of dog kisses.

“Looks like you’re getting your fair share of morning kisses,” Mark teases, and Ethan rolls his eyes at him.

“Jealous?” Ethan teases back, petting Spencer as he finally settles a little in Ethan’s lap.

“Of Spencer? You wish,” Mark grins, and Ethan almost laughs at the truth in it. Mark goes and reaches for his shirt folded on the nightstand to pull it back on (thank god, Ethan’s having a hard time not staring). “Ah, fuck, do you have saline solution? Forgot to take my contacts out and they’re gluing my eyes shut.”

“Yeah,” Ethan says, after letting Spencer off the bed (who immediately makes his way out the door again) so he can get up himself, and making his way to the bathroom. Whatever just happened this morning already feels like a dream. It’s like gravity has brushed all the aching off his shoulders, pushed down the remnants of Mark’s touch from his brain. “But maybe I want you to be blind for the rest of today.”

“Such a shitty, shitty friend,” Mark mumbles, and Ethan just shoots him a shit-eating grin as he grabs the bottle from the sink top. 

Ethan emerges from the bathroom to see Mark picking up the hoodie, and the grin slips off Ethan’s face.

“I swear this could be mine.” Flipping it right side up, Mark frowns at it.

“Uh, it probably is,” says Ethan hesitantly, feeling slightly guilty, tossing the bottle onto Mark’s side of the bed.

“Huh.” 

I kind of need it to sleep, is what Ethan’s mind says, but he quickly shuts it up. It’s embarrassing to be dependent on someone like that, he shouldn’t think like that. He pulls open a drawer of his dresser and digs through his shirts. Act natural, don’t say anything weird.

“Yeah, I think this is mine? What is it doing here?” Mark muses, setting it back down and reaching for the bottle.

“I have no idea,” Ethan responds, trying to seem nonchalant and pulling off his shirt. He reaches back into the drawer, decidedly not looking at Mark, pulls out the first shirt he sees, and pulls it over his head.

Mark is oddly quiet, so Ethan sneaks a look. His friend is already looking at him, or more accurately, at his stomach that’s been exposed for a moment with a lingering stare.

“You good?”

“Wh- yeah, yep, I’m great, perfect as ever,” Mark blinks and quickly turns away, looking flushed. Weird . “It’s just funny how my hoodie has been in your room for so long and neither of us noticed.”

“Well,” Ethan says, slowly, thrown off. Maybe he’s feeling a little braver than he thought. “I kind of knew, but I kind of wanted to steal it.”

A look of the signature Markiplier confusion is already making its way onto Mark’s face, so Ethan blurts out, “It’s nice to sleep in.”

Mark’s eyebrows have reached record height. 

“That sounds so weird, I’m so sorry, you know what, you can just take it back,” rambles Ethan, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can feel you judging.”

He’s expecting Mark to keep pushing and asking, or just giving him the what the fuck look that he knows so well. 

So when his friend just shrugs, grinning at him a little too brightly, shoving the hoodie into Ethan’s hands saying “Alright dude, I get it,” and swooping out the door carelessly, Ethan is left with the hoodie in slack arms and staring after him.

What?

- 

(Eventually, Ethan makes his way downstairs. He took his time making his bed. What the hell did Mark mean by “I get it”? He certainly didn’t?)

But downstairs is like another world. Ethan’s favorite part of his day is his morning routine, where he can put on quiet music and make himself coffee and breakfast, take Spencer out for a walk. It’s a routine he’s come to appreciate because it’s what stays the same when everything else in the world seems to have turned upside down - yet somehow, Mark inserts himself into Ethan’s routine like he’s been there all along. Mark pesters Ethan until he takes his meds, and then Ethan makes breakfast for himself while Mark unglues his contact lenses from his eyeballs, because apparently Mark’s started this new intermittent fasting thing and he doesn’t eat in the morning. 

Whatever it was, Mark seems to have decided that whatever just happened was completely normal , so Ethan’s heart lets it go. A comfortable silence falls over them again as the whir of the coffee machine fills the kitchen. 

It’s all too natural to work around Mark standing at the counter making coffee for them, reaching around each other to get to cupboards and drawers, in sync. They banter a bit; Mark teases him for drinking his coffee with way too much cream and pesters him about the way he’s making his eggs. Rolling his eyes and fondly shoving his friend’s shoulder, Ethan can’t help but imagine; how easy would it be for them to have this every day? 

Just knowing that they could be so fucking good together is painful.

Ethan plates his eggs and settles at the table, where Mark’s scrolling on his phone. Silently he thanks Mark as he takes a sip out of his mug, and wonders when Mark had even learned how Ethan likes his coffee.

Really, there isn’t any reason for Mark to keep sticking around. Ethan is left wondering as he zones out sipping from his mug if Mark really did enjoy being his friend. There’s this little bitty voice in this head that sounds suspiciously like his therapist telling him Ethan, others actually value you much more than you think but it’s hard to tell, if his former idol (now crush) values their friendship just as much as Ethan does.

Mark’s hair is still unkempt from sleep, still looking slightly sleepy as he idly scrolls through his ungodly, unending list of unread emails on his phone. How could Mark be so obnoxious and somehow so introverted, so egotistical and somehow still so kind, so dumb yet so smart? The guy is a walking, beautiful mess of a puzzle and Ethan is enamored. And it’s torture to know that they work and live together so well, when they’re going grocery shopping and filming and working out together, and the fucking curve of Mark’s arm even feels right around his waist, it’s-

“What?” Mark says.

Ethan blinks. “What?” he also says.

“What? ”

“What!” Ethan giggles. “Seriously dude, I have no idea. What’s going on?”

“You were staring! At me! At my face!” Mark exclaims. “Thought there was something wrong with it, if that’s even possible.”

“Nah dude,” Ethan shakes his head, grinning. “Nothing wrong with your face, it’s just on too big of a head, you feel?”

Mark gasps exaggeratedly. “Says the bastard with a lumpy head!”

Ethan doesn’t know how the hell he ended up crushing on such a dumbass. His stupid face makes Ethan insane. It’s kind of endearing. 

“Wh- Excuse me?” Ethan exclaims with mock offense, a grin threatening to break his character. “My skull is perfectly fine, thank you very much. And it’s proportional to my body.”

“Absolutely not,” Mark huffs, and Ethan gives him a grin and shovels more food into his mouth. Then takes a chug of his coffee (immediately burning his tongue, fuck). Grimacing, he sticks out his tongue.

A crooked smile makes its way on Mark’s face. Vaguely, he gestures with a nod toward Ethan, resting his chin on his hand. “You got a lil somethin’ there.”

“Hm?”

Mark points at the corner of his own mouth, and Ethan goes “oh!” and tries wiping at the same corner of his own, but Mark shakes his head and points again.

“Here?” Ethan tries again.

“Dude,” Mark says, laughing, and he’s reaching across the corner of the table and oh okay Mark’s rubbing at the corner of his lip with his thumb and the rest of his hand is warm on his cheek, and it’s like his nerves are on fire where Mark’s made contact with his skin and Ethan can feel the pink rising to his cheeks. 

The sun is warming their cozy kitchen area with a happy yellow, Mark and Ethan are sitting sipping coffee, and Mark’s touch is lingering, and he’s reaching up and brushing back a stray curl of hair that’s fallen into Ethan’s face. 

God, Ethan feels like what a Dodie song sounds like. You’re absolutely smitten is singing in his head right now, right along with a ukulele.

“Oh hey, Mark!” Oh, crap, what did this look like right now?

Mark drops his hand, and Ethan can’t help but miss the warmth already. 

“Oh, morning Kathryn!” Mark responds cheerily, turning in his chair. 

“Didn’t know you stayed over.”

“Oh yeah, filming stretched on for way too long, y’know.” 

“Ah, gotcha.” Kat says, making her way behind the kitchen counter after reaching down to pet Spencer at her feet. “You guys get it done though?”

“Yeah, thank god,” Mark replies.

“Nice,” Kat smiles.

Swallowing, Ethan manages to gather his thoughts enough to call out, “I left out the pan for you in case you wanted to use it,” and Kat gives him a nod of thanks.

When Mark’s back is turned, she mouths at Ethan “are you guys???? ” with a confused face, and Ethan shakes his head and widens his eyes back at her with a shhh we can talk later kind of look before being very concentrated on eating his food.

Meanwhile Mark is back to perfectly normal like nothing had even happened. “Dude, you know I don’t mirror things, when I pointed at the left of my mouth I meant your left…”

The rest of their morning goes by. The three of them chat easily, until when Mark checks the time he suddenly realizes that he needs to go if he wants to go take Chica out for a walk before he hits the gym. And suddenly they’re cleaning up plates and Ethan’s nudging Mark out the door saying “it’s fine it’s just washing dishes Mark, yes I know Alex is chill but I still don’t want you to be late,” and Mark’s saying “Fine, I’ll see you later today?” and Ethan says “Yep!” and then Mark is gone.

Ethan closes the door. 

It feels suddenly very quiet, despite the music that they’re put over the speaker. He goes to wash the dishes.

Kat leans against the counter. “Okay, Ethan, explain.”

Oh fuck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, staring intently at the sponge.

“Ethan.”

“There’s literally nothing going on between us, I swear!”

His friend raises an eyebrow. “So… okay, the intense blush on your face was nothing then.”

Ethan blinks at her, then gives in, turning off the faucet. “Ugh, god, yeah, okay. I might get a little flustered around him. Don’t you dare tell him.”

Kat smirks at him. “You admit you like him now?”

“What- Okay, fine, yeah, it’s terrible, I know.” Ethan sighs, and leans onto his elbows on the counter. “I’m hoping it just, y’know, goes away. It hasn’t been that long so maybe it’s just a dumb thing my brain’s pulling on me.”

“It hasn’t been that long?”

“Yeah, like maybe two weeks.”

“Two weeks?"  Kat says, seemingly surprised. “Eth, you’ve been making heart eyes at him like, since you moved here. Please don’t tell me you’re that clueless.”

Ethan blinks at her. “What? No, this is definitely a recent development.”

“Oh my god,” Kat says. “You really are that clueless. Okay whatever, it’s been like three and a half years. Are you gonna get your shit together and finally tell him?’’

“What!” Ethan yelps. “No, absolutely not! Can you imagine? I’d never be able to talk to him again. He’d probably hate me.”

Kat blinks at him, opens her mouth, and closes it again. “I- Okay, no, Mark will not hate you. He will be very far from hating you.”

Ethan groans and shakes his head. “He definitely will.”

“Eth, look at me.” Kat says seriously, and Ethan does. She looks frustrated. “Literally just tell him. I swear that you’ll be fine. He’s so into you! He has been for years.”

Then Kat’s on her way out the kitchen, and Ethan’s left with his mouth open waiting to disprove something he doesn’t quite know how to.

-

Handsy. Mark is getting so touchy-feely, both in videos and outside of videos.

Something’s changed between them, after that night that Mark had held him. It’s like a dam has been broken and suddenly Mark’s just freely brushing their arms together, nudging his shoulder occasionally to get his attention, or wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

He’s so into you! He has been for years.

It can’t be true. It makes no sense to Ethan. Mark has never shown any sign of liking him, never mind for years. He was just Mark’s editor, and then Mark’s friend.

But somehow it’s gotten to Ethan’s head and he’s analyzing every interaction between them, even more than he did before. He gets so flustered. It doesn’t help that suddenly Mark is showing him affection so much more easily now.

In the naming the states video, Mark so easily tells him that he’s doing okay, he’s doing pretty good on the first test, a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Ethan watches back the speed reading video and almost melts into the floor at how much Mark seems like a proud boyfriend, watching Ethan read decently well despite his dyslexia and praising him for the right answers he got.

He’s so into you.

With every exchanged smile and the barest of touches, Ethan could almost cry at how much affection he’s getting. He didn’t expect this after that night that Mark had stayed over - he’d expected the opposite, really. Ethan was definitely the more affectionate out of the both of them and now it’s flipped. Nothing in the world makes sense. (Ethan is starting to think feelings are probably the worst thing in the world.)

With every interaction Ethan gets a little closer to thinking, maybe it’s less one-sided than I thought. But maybe he’s overthinking, maybe he’s overanalyzing, maybe his yearning has gone out of control.

He doesn’t know what to do.

Chapter Text

It’s nearing the end of the video. It’s their last video of the day, and Ethan loves filming, especially for Unus Annus, but he’s starving and he just really wants dinner, so he’s excited for it to just end.

The way that Ethan can tell that they both are gonna start wrapping up on the video is because the both of them are going way overboard during a bit. Also, usually there’s a lot of yelling.

“I like that we spent, like, the entire beginning of this video talking about men. Or just Zac Efron. This was supposed to be all about women,” Ethan says.

“Zac Efron is just that attractive, okay? He’s worth all of those five minutes and more and if you don’t agree with me, how dare you,” Mark retorts, and Ethan widens his eyes comically.

“Jeez, wow, okay! Just pointing out.” Ethan exclaims, and stares at the floor dramatically. “Why don’t you go and continue Unus Annus with Zac Efron , then.”

“Then I will!” Mark shoots back. 

“Okay then!” Ethan throws up his hands and makes for the door. The corner of his mouth is twitching - fuck, stay in character! - and he turns his back to the camera before he inevitably breaks into laughter. “You’ll never be able to replace me!”

He steps out into the hallway, slams the door behind him as dramatically as he can.

“I already have!” Mark shouts back. Ethan can’t even see him, but he can tell just by the tone of his voice, he knows that Mark is on the brink of laughter as well.

Ethan thinks that Mark’s already ended the recording there and that whoever edits it can just stick the timer right after Mark shouting, so he opens the door to Mark’s recording space again and pops his head back in.

“Alright, I’m back,” he says, lightly.

“Oh my god, the bit’s still- No! Unus Annus will live on without you! You’re not allowed back here, you Zac Efron hater!” Mark shouts at him, but the bit’s already starting to fall apart, and there’s a grin fighting to appear on his face. Ethan breaks into laughter as Mark shouts, “I’m with Zac Efron now!”

Ethan can’t help but giggle harder. “I- You can’t just-”

“Get it together and focus, man! Stay in character!” Mark is yelling, but his words are getting choked up by laughter too, and Ethan’s laughing, and it’s just a huge mess of an ending and god, the editor is just gonna cut it off right before this stupid bit, aren’t they?

At this point they’ve both sort of given up and both of them are out of breath and Ethan doubles over from giggling, hand still gripping the doorknob, and he’s choking on his laughter so hard it hurts his ribs.

“Oh my god,” Ethan wheezes. “This ending is a disaster.”

Mark reaches up and stops the recording on the camera, still shaking from laughter, then buries his face into his hands. “Yeah man, this was terrible.”

Ethan’s crouched on the ground now, trying to stifle down his giggles. “Whooo, boy. Oh my god. Why was that so funny? That wasn’t funny at all.”

They catch their breaths for a moment, silent in case any other word exchanged sends them into another fit of laughter. Eventually, Mark makes his way over to Ethan and silently offers a hand up from the floor, which Ethan takes gratefully, then he immediately launches himself face down onto the couch next to them.

“I am so fucking hungry. I need food,” Ethan groans into the cushion. “When do you eat? How the hell does inne- intertti- intermittent fasting work? Like, scientifically. I don’t know a thing about it. Why would you purposely not eat? Food is so good. Especially breakfast.”

He looks up when Mark doesn’t answer for a moment. Mark’s watching him with warm eyes filled with mirth. 

“Well,” Mark says, looking away and lifting Ethan’s legs so he can sit down, and setting them down in his lap. He reaches over to the mini cooler for a can of Dr. Pepper and takes a sip. “Now’s a time that I can eat.”

Ethan twists himself around and raises an eyebrow at their situation. Mark’s leaning on an elbow, on Ethan’s calves. He’s not used to Mark being so free about touching him, still, and although he’s happy about it, the suddenness of it itches him the wrong way. It feels a bit like Mark is toying with him.

“Alright,” he says slowly. “Can we eat then?”

Mark raises an eyebrow back. “I didn’t know you wanted to eat dinner together, darling.”

Darling causes some sort of split-second heart failure somewhere in his ribcage. Oh, he’s back to the nicknames, then. Mark had seemingly forgotten about it after That Night, which Ethan was eternally grateful for because it would definitely be too close, and too intimate. But it seems like several days was enough to get back to it.

Ethan stares him down with a Look. Mark does the same back.

Eventually Ethan breaks. “Okay whatever , yes, I’m forcing you to eat dinner with me.”

Mark grins at him crookedly. “That’s the boldest way anyone’s ever asked me out on a date.”

Oh my god . Didn’t this seem way too much like flirting? Ethan flushes, hoping Mark won’t notice his flustered state. “W-well, uh, yeah, it’s happening! Can I raid your fridge for something to cook?”

“Bold of you to assume I have food.”

Ethan’s jaw drops, and he gives Mark an offended look. “I literally, personally, with my own hands, basically put half of the groceries in your goddamn fridge myself two days ago.”

“What? That never happened,” Mark retorts. “I don’t remember that at all. I’ve never gone grocery shopping in my life. Actually- I go grocery shopping with Zac now.”

“Wow.” Ethan scoffs. “Damn. Can’t believe I’ve been replaced that easily.”

Mark pauses for a moment, and it looks like he wants to say something, but he visibly swallows and then meets Ethan’s eyes again with the smallest smirk on his face. “Well, I’d also get him on Unus Annus too, but there’s only a couple of months left, you know, and it’s just too much effort.”

Ethan rolls his eyes at his friend as a response, and pulls out his phone when it buzzes with a notification. Brian’s sent him his shitty MS paint drawing from his charity stream of the Unus Annus skull-hourglass labeled “uwu anus” along the sides, and he giggles under his breath as he types back a response.

Mark hums curiously. “Who’re you talking to?”

“Brian,” Ethan replies, pulling himself up into a sitting position and showing his phone screen to Mark. “He sent me this masterpiece.”

Mark shifts over slightly and wraps his fingers around Ethan’s to steady it and get a better look at the screen. Quite honestly, Ethan almost melts at the warmth of Mark’s hand over his. Mark releases Ethan’s hand only a few moments later, but he doesn’t shift further away.

“We should sell merch with that design,” Mark says, chuckling.

Ethan grins and types back a reply, mumbling each word as he does. “Mark… says… it would be great merch… we will pay royalties for your design.”

As he does, Mark watches him type over his shoulder, and then he’s hyper aware of how snug they are. It’s a big couch, but they’ve found themselves shoulder to shoulder, Ethan’s legs thrown carelessly over Mark’s lap. 

He hits send, and a moment later Brian responds with, “Sorry, you can’t put a price on this masterpiece,” and both Mark and Ethan chuckle.

Ethan shoves his phone away and looks up at Mark, suddenly taken aback at how Mark’s face is about three inches away from his.

“Well“- Ethan stammers just slightly, all the sudden imagining how easy it would be to just lean forward and kiss him, curl up with him on the couch and lose themselves in each other- “lost opportunities.”

Mark’s gaze flickers down for a moment before he meets Ethan’s eyes again. “Yeah,” he says lightly with a smile, and okay, Mark is moving away a little and saving Ethan’s sanity, leaning back into the sofa cushions. Ethan would say that he looks a little flushed - but the room was really warm anyways, it was probably because of that.

“Mark,” Ethan says curiously, filling the settling silence. “Do you actually not have any celebrity crushes?”

His friend raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, it wasn’t a bit or anything,” he replies, “I don’t know. I can tell you when someone is hot. Or attractive, in any way. But I’m not the type of guy to… just crush on almost like a complete stranger, y’know.”

“Ah.” Ethan lies back down, to stare up at the ceiling. “Okay, I get that. I feel like I fall in love with people too easily. Well- not exactly fall in love, but just, get attached.” He frowns. “No, that’s not right. Maybe admire is the right word. I just get emotional real easy over humanity and how cool some people just are, living their lives and being passionate about things they like and loving their friends. I guess they’re not actual crushes, but. Still.”

Mark makes a thoughtful hum. “I think that’s nice in a way though.” 

“Not really,” Ethan replies, snorting a little at the irony that he was telling Mark of all people about this. “It feels achy inside all the time.”

The other man is quiet for a moment, then he says, “Hey, that’s how I feel about Zac Efron,” and Ethan snickers.

“Mark Edward Fischbach’s one and only crush is Zac Efron,” Ethan declares. “I detect gay energy.”

“Cut me some slack, who on this earth isn’t attracted to Zac Efron?”

“Well, I’d probably make out with, like, a whole ton of guys, not just Zac Efron. There’s so many attractive dudes.”

“You call me out on my gay energy , yet you’re the one saying shit like that!”

Ethan giggles. “I’m the one that’s not entirely straight, I’m allowed.”

“You’re not entirely straight?”

Oh god, did Mark really not know? He’s never hidden it, he thought he’d mentioned it before. His hands get a little clammy at having to say it outright. “Mhmm. I don’t know, sexuality’s on a spectrum and I don’t have a label but I’m just not entirely straight and that’s fine with me.”

“That makes sense,” Mark replies easily.

Ethan lets out a breath, releases it toward the ceiling. Obviously Mark would be perfectly fine with it, but it was always nerve wracking having to clarify things and have a possibility of being misunderstood. “Are you sure you’re straight, with your thing about Zac Efron?” he jokes (definitely not asking for any other reason).

Chuckling, the only response Ethan gets from Mark is “I don’t just get casual crushes, I don’t know. Everyone can agree Zac Efron is smoldering no matter the sexuality,” and that’s the end of the conversation.

Ethan doesn’t know what to make of it, but he doesn’t want to torture himself by looking into it further. He hops off the couch and just drags Mark upstairs and raids his kitchen to make pad thai, because he’s hungry and he doesn’t want to think about his crush anymore.

-

Ethan’s woken up with the worst migraine in the world.

He’s not quite sure what’s caused it - the poor sleep he got that night, tossing and turning over nonstop thoughts, the caffeine, the light from his phone or computer, maybe.

His blinds are closed so the sun isn’t irritating, and he brushes his teeth slowly, goes to take Spencer for a really quick walk, grabs a glass of water, and puts on his comfiest yellow hoodie and just lies in bed with his head on the pillow, hoping the pressure at his skull will just go away.

Today he has a stream planned, so he has to get up and film and set up for his stream eventually. But it’s morning anyway, he can just maybe stay in bed for a little bit.

His phone starts buzzing. He groans inwardly and reaches over to grab it, checking the caller ID with bleary eyes. It’s a FaceTime call from Mark.

Ethan can’t bring himself to care how he looks right now, Mark’s seen worse. He accepts it and props it up on the pillow next to him so he doesn’t have to hold it. Mark appears on screen, in his recording room.

“Hey,” greets Ethan, as loudly as he can without it hurting his head.

“Mornin’,” Mark says, a teasing smile at his lips. “Wow, you look rough. Did you just wake up? It’s like 10:30.”

“Thanks. Nope, I just have such a bad headache.”

“What’d you do this time?”

“I don’t even know,” Ethan groans, and Mark chuckles a little.

“Hope you feel better, man.” Mark looks away to click away at something on his computer. “I was gonna ask you to come over and schedule some stuff with me but you should probably rest.”

“I can be there for the afternoon, if you need me.”

“No, no no, you stay at home and stay hydrated,” Mark says, frowning, “we can figure it out later, it’s not urgent. Have you at least eaten something?”

“I’m not sick, it’s just a migraine, dad ,” Ethan says. “I haven’t, but it’s fine. I can work through headaches like a pro.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Mark rests his elbows on his desk, turns his attention away from the computer and to Ethan. “Listen, I gotta, uh, finish up recording some stuff but I’ll check up with you in a bit, okay? We can figure it out then.”

“Alright,” Ethan says, turning over and burying his face into his pillow. He thinks he’s probably just going to try to sleep it off.

Mark laughs softly through the other side. “Okay, talk to you later,” and ends the call.

Ethan’s left to suffer through the throbbing of his head in blissful silence. A familiar wet nose tucks itself under his arm and licks his hand, and Ethan smiles a little bit and cuddles Spencer closer. 

Eventually, somehow he manages to drift asleep again, face hidden in Spencer’s fur.

He gradually wakes up some time later, mind foggy and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Spencer is still cuddled beside him, looking to be asleep as well, and Ethan gently presses a kiss to the top of his head. 

The migraine is barely there anymore, and Ethan goes to grab the glass of water by his nightstand when he realizes there’s a large weight behind him, sort of on top of him too.

Ethan turns his head to a big fluffy mass of golden-white fur and gets a lick to the face.

“ Chica? ” Ethan furrows his brows, and untangles his limbs from underneath himself to give her a few pats. His bedroom door is closed. “How did you get in here?”

Chica derpily twists upside down to follow his hand when he stops petting her to reach for his phone for a possible explanation, and Ethan apologizes by compensating with a couple kisses on her head as he checks his phone.

Thank god, it’s only half an hour past noon, so Ethan hasn’t overslept - but there’s two missed calls from Mark from half an hour ago.

“Yikes,” Ethan mutters to himself, and carefully extracts himself out of the tangle of sheets and blanket and two dogs without waking Spencer. Half full glass in hand, he opens the bedroom door but then stops dead when he can hear a conversation happening downstairs.

Straining to hear, he can’t make much of who’s talking, even less what they’re talking about. Was it just someone Kat had over? Or Mark? That would make sense, since Chica was here. But why would Mark come here?

Slowly and quietly he makes his way downstairs and rounds the corner to see Mark and Kat chatting in the kitchen.

“Ethan is so fucking clueless, you gotta…” Kat’s saying, then she turns to see Ethan. “Oh hey, you’re up!” she calls out.

Ethan’s eyes widen when Mark turns to wave at him too. Were they talking about him? “You both talking trash about me?” he jokes. 

“Nah, don’t worry, only nice things,” Kat says, smiling.

Ethan raises an eyebrow suspiciously but makes his way over to them anyways.

“Are you feeling better?” asks Mark as Ethan drains the rest of the water and puts the glass in the sink.

“Mostly, but, y’know, I found an unexpected lady in my bed when I woke up,” Ethan comments, locking eyes with Mark, “along with a strange man in my house.”

Mark snorts. Kat’s looking between the two of them with some tired sort of look before she says, “Alright, I’m gonna go upstairs, guys. Eth, I made cookies last night if you want some, they’re on the table,” and sweeps her way out the kitchen.

“Thanks!” he calls out after his housemate, but she’s already gone. 

A mug - Ethan’s favorite mug - is shoved into Ethan’s hands and he very much almost drops the thing because he’s not paying attention. When he gets over the pang of fear from almost spilling the whole thing, he realizes it’s hot chocolate topped with fluffy marshmallows. 

“For any remaining headache, I guess,” explains Mark when Ethan gives a questioning look.

“Stealing my romantic gestures, I see,” Ethan teases, feeling flustered and taking a sip out of the mug. I wonder what’s going on with Mark these days. Mark just rolls his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” Ethan finally asks.

“Can’t I come over and talk to Kathryn? We’re friends.” 

“Gee, I didn’t know that!”

Mark laughs. “Okay, you weren’t picking up your phone and I wanted to talk about something so I just came over. And Chica really wanted to be let into your room, she was standing outside just looking so sad, so I opened the door for her.” He smirks a little. “It was kinda cute, you sleeping like a baby with Chica and Spencer.”

He flushes. “Well,” Ethan drags out, almost burning his tongue on hot chocolate, “sorry for sleeping through your calls. What’d you want to talk about?”

It’s Mark’s turn to pause. “I guess just scheduling stuff. It won’t take that long but I wanted to stay here anyways and work on a project because right now my place is really empty.”

“Aww, Mark ,” Ethan coos, putting his hands on his heart mostly to irritate his friend, but feeling warm inside, “you just wanted to spend time with me?”

“Not anymore if you keep pointing it out like that,” Mark grumbles, but Ethan can totally see a smile fighting its way onto Mark’s face. Mark shoves Ethan’s shoulder gently. “Stop it, I just kinda miss the team office and being able to work in the same room as friends.”

“Ah yeah, me too,” agrees Ethan. “It’s nice being held accountable by coworkers and hanging out with others at work. You think you wanna pull off another low-budget ‘A Something With Markiplier’ and bring the team back?” he jokes.

“We just remake Heist, but shittily, and the people at YouTube would be so confused, like ‘ What the hell, aren’t you already working on a sequel for Heist with an entire professional crew? ’” 

“We just go ‘Sorry dudes, we wanted to get the boys back together. ’”

“Susan is shaking.”

“Susan just straight up deletes our channels.”

Mark lets out a giggle. “Okay, okay, in all seriousness, I can’t wait to get you guys on set again, I’m still writing the script but it’s going to be incredible.”

Aw . “Can’t wait either,” Ethan responds, smiling at the idea of being on set and getting into costume and seeing his friends act in ridiculous ways again.

Eventually, they make their way downstairs to Ethan’s studio. Mark’s rarely been in Ethan’s recording space - it’s cozy with not a lot of room for two, so they always film at Mark’s. Admiring the hue lights that Ethan’s installed, Mark settles on the couch in the corner with a laptop.

Ethan absolutely cannot record solo videos when Mark is in the room, so he thrusts noise cancelling headphones into Mark’s hands and basically forces his friend to not look at him. Then he settles down and records his first video of the day, looking through some community memes on reddit.

(He really needs some new games to play.)

-

A little over an hour later, he wraps up the video and makes sure the file is fine to send over to Justin to edit. He still wants to record, but he needs to find ideas, he’s been in a weird spot lately where he feels so creative but there’s nothing he can find to build off of, and with a nagging obligation to have a consistent upload schedule, he finds it hard to take a few days off randomly to work on a larger project.

Mark from the corner calls him out for not using his old intro and outro anymore, at which Ethan rolls his eyes and complains a bit about how Mark had promised not to listen to him record, and Mark shoos him off to keep working but Ethan mentions not having any ideas and somehow they end up talking about video ideas for half an hour.

The time flies without him even realizing. He guesses that they somehow play too well off each other, which is funny, they even do well at work together… What was that cliché line about a soulmate bringing out the best version of oneself?

Ethan immediately shakes off the thought. The word soulmate was dizzying, and it only made him just look at how cozy Mark looked, hanging out in his recording space.

Mark ends up pulling a chair up next to Ethan’s where they browse through videos for a little while, talking about everything and nothing. Ethan has control of the mouse, but when Mark gets impatient he goes and just wraps his hand around Ethan’s and steals the mouse from him. It’s hilarious to get Mark irritated, and Mark’s hands are really warm. It’s a win-win situation.

It gets Ethan thinking. When they start talking about the halfway point for Unus Annus, and Mark begins to go down a track of having an Unus versus Annus war between their viewers, Ethan is thinking.

When was the last time Ethan and Mark had recorded something, in Ethan’s studio? It feels like last time it was Arms or Mario Kart or something otherwise. Either way, it had been so long, and of course they did record together, because Unus Annus, but without Unus Annus?

The Not-Peanut Butter video, right, that had been not long before Unus Annus. That had been super casual and fun, and Mark had just come to his place on short notice because he wanted to.

Before Unus Annus. And During Unus Annus.Two very different things. Wasn’t it like every time they got together to talk it felt like it must be for work, and for Unus Annus?

No, not quite the right way to put it, Unus Annus was his and their baby and he adored it and they got impossibly closer During Unus Annus. But fuck, he’s thinking that he’s accounted for Before Unus Annus and During Unus Annus, but what about After Unus Annus? In half a year? 

Could they just bounce back to like Before Unus Annus? Mark could casually come over to film the most random on-the-fly videos, or just hang out , without worrying about the schedule? But then, could he bear not seeing Mark every day with the excuse of Unus Annus?

But could just hanging out be so strange, when they know their on-camera chemistry is so good, and it always has good potential for content?

Isn’t it some sort of curse, for their lives to be so intertwined, and their work, and their passions and now Ethan’s love life? 

Ethan is mostly aware he’s spiralling and his train of thought doesn’t make sense.

But he can’t help thinking about After Unus Annus now.

“Eth, you good?”

Ethan blinks. Mark has stopped rambling, and instead is watching him with concern.

“Perfectly fine,” Ethan says, swallowing.

-

Ethan knows sometimes his mind goes places too far in, and he knows when to lure it back out to reality. 

But he is caught on the After.

By some sort of fate, they play the goddamn Newlyweds’ Game, and Ethan can’t help but snort at how the universe just never ceased to tease him like this.

It turns out by no surprise that Ethan knows more about Mark than Mark about him, even down to Mark’s thing about wasted potential- which is funny; Ethan had remembered that because Mark had told him about it offhandedly and Ethan had some sort of revelation about how much goddamn sense it made within Mark’s personality. And how much more it made him infatuated.

It’s just a video. Mark’s usually not great at “knowing” his friends in that way, either. But he loves them all the same. Right?

Ethan prides himself on being light humored and able to brush off anything easily. But he’s never felt anything like this before - especially for someone.

It’s one of a kind. A self-destructing channel does happen to be like that. It’s just strange because he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

-

He stews on it for a week. And then two. And it literally starts affecting him on-camera, which isn’t acceptable, Unus Annus is ending in months and it has to be the best content that it can be while it lasts, he needs to get over Mark and how much he likes him because it was too much-

Ethan is zoning out during filming again. 

“Ethan.” Mark’s hand is on his shoulder, gentle but grounding. The sun is blinding, pouring in through the kitchen windows.

Mark’s touch is burning him down to the bone, again. God, he wants to brush a thumb against his cheek, outlined with gold light.

“Hi, yes, sorry, what’s going on?” says Ethan, abruptly pulled out of his mind.

“You’ve been off lately… have you been taking your meds?”

“Yeah,” Ethan says, because he has, and quickly turns back to the camera. “I’m fine, we can keep going.”

Mark frowns, and after a few moments, reaches up and hits stop on the recording.

“Mark, what-“

“Ethan, I’m genuinely worried. What’s been going on?”

Ethan cannot believe this is happening. This is Mark Edward Get-Shit-Done-And-Don’t-Slow-Down Fischbach.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. “No, it’s okay, it’s my own shit, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Ethan, actually. You’ve been off all week, maybe even longer.” And the kitchen is so bright and clear, and Mark’s brown eyes are the warmest color he’s ever seen, and god , he’s in so deep. “If you’re going through anything, you can talk to me.”

“I just…” Ethan swallows. Fine. “Sometimes I worry about the end of Unus Annus, y’know,“ he starts, slowly, trying to articulate his thoughts in the best way he can. “Because- well, I… I’ve never been happier in my life. Filming and editing and just being involved in the project is so fucking fun and even though I’m so fucking busy all the time, it’s really given me that kick I was looking for, y’know? Something I can look forward to and keep a schedule and try something new with you or other friends.”

Mark looks like he’s going to interject, and Ethan feels like if he stops talking, he’s never going to be able to open up about this ever again, so he barges ahead and begins to spill.

“And I know it’s so ironic that the entire point of the channel is for it to end but- it’s just something I can’t help but wonder, if after this channel ends, and everything is deleted, it’s almost as if, did some of the best moments of my life really exist? And I’ll start to wonder; did it really matter in the end? Because as we’ve said over and over, it’s just so small in the grand scheme of things and here I am, mourning a channel that was set to die from the very beginning.”

Ethan can’t stop.

“And it’s like I’ve grown so fucking much throughout this year and in terms of figuring things out - and we’ve- we’ve, we’ve grown so close. And I’m so, so afraid that after this year I’m going to lose everything, and I’m gonna lose you too. We probably won’t film together after this November. I feel like we won’t even hang out together after this, because we’re gonna be sick of each other, and even now we don’t do regular videos together because we gotta use it all for Unus Annus and-” Ethan chokes on his breath, he’s really losing it, he needs to breathe but he just needs it out . “-I’m gonna be the only one stuck behind, because who am I but just someone who got lucky and was able to fly over to LA and work for the Markiplier? I’m the one who’s too sentimental and too soft and got too attached.”

He doesn’t dare look at Mark. Fuck, he took his meds and he’s stopped going to therapy so he should be okay, but the thudding in his chest is growing louder and there’s staticky pins and needles pricking at his limbs.

1, 2, 3, 4, inhale.

Hold. 6, 7, 8.

“Ethan, I…” Mark says, through the white noise in Ethan’s head.

Ethan wipes at his eyes. He’s not crying, he just feels the need to hide his face, if even for a moment. Exhale, 5, 6, 7. “Shit, I-I’m sorry. Here, yeah, I’ll just take a trip to the bathroom for a sec.”

“Ethan!” Mark cuts in, urgent. “Did I- fuck, Ethan, I could never just drop you like that.”

Ethan grips the hem of his shirt, almost painfully. “I know, but I…” He gathers his shaky voice. “My anxiety is just shitty, alright, and it doesn’t help that you’ve been giving me mixed signals and I feel like I don’t understand anything.”

Because no matter how much he tries to logic to himself, there is always that part in his brain that just knows that it’s so unequal between them. He’s the one that admired the other for so long. Even if his friend means the best, he can’t help but feel like he’s forever going to be that extra attachment to the world, always second to something else- and that’s selfish, isn’t it? God, it’s been a while since he’s used the word selfish , he’s definitely not in a good place.

“Ethan.” There’s a hand suddenly over his, easing his white-knuckled grip on his shirt. Ethan’s breath hitches slightly. “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Ethan looks up at that, eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth to interject, because why-

“I genuinely, legitimately can never replace you.” Mark runs a hand through his hair abruptly, beginning to pace the length of the kitchen. “I was wrong, because I just… I’m just not good at showing people what I want to. I’m an asshole who talks shit and has such a huge head, and yeah, maybe I cry occasionally in front of everyone and I get serious, but it’s just those few moments where I feel like I can really try.”

Ethan can tell Mark’s definitely been thinking about this for too long, too. Mark’s usually so composed, so unaffected, so articulate.

“I admire you so fucking much. You’re so good at… just showing people what they deserve, y’know? You give out affection so easily and casually and you just make everyone else shine and you don’t even notice it. You give out hugs and touches and compliments like it’s nothing. But I don’t know how to do that.” A pause. “I just want people to know how much they mean to me. I wish I could just do that. So just being your friend means the world to me and I just… don’t know how I’m supposed to express something like that.”

Mark stops. They catch each other’s eyes, and at that moment, it’s so strange and surreal and it’s noon - who has these types of conversations when the sun is flooding gold through the windows? - and suddenly Ethan knows that everything’s going to be okay.

“So what-” Ethan says, finally, breaking the silence. “-was going on with you and all the touching?”

The slightest amused smile tugs at the corner of Mark’s mouth. “You noticed, huh.”

“Of fucking course I noticed, do you know how much of a whiplash that was?” Ethan exclaims, and they’re both grinning now, despite the moisture in their eyes. “You spent how many months insisting me not to touch you and now suddenly you’re all over me? It freaked me out!”

“Sorry,” is all Mark says, and it’s not an explanation, but Ethan rolls his eyes anyway.

“Alright, don’t be sorry, sometimes my mind just gets out of hand, okay? People… people show affection in different ways. You don’t spend hours teasing your friends and audience because you hate them. They know that you mean the best when you do, you do that out of affection. Because that’s you, and you‘re there for them, in your own ways. And you definitely are way softer than you think you are, you masochist.”

“Not a masochist,” Mark mutters. He’s smiling. “But I’m still sorry. For causing you more stress and doubt. I just hope you know you’re the best person. For Unus Annus. And a friend I can’t replace.”

There’s a sun in Ethan’s ribcage right now, warming every dark corner. And it feels like things are falling into place, and something about the vulnerability in the air seems really, really familiar. 

“Y’know, you might as well have just given a love confession,” Ethan says, teasingly, the same way he remembers Mark did, way back in the first weeks of Unus Annus.

A pause.

“Maybe it is one,” says Mark, softly.

Ethan opens his mouth. Closes it. 

Maybe it is one.

He’s so into you! He has been for years.

Did he-

Was it him? Mark is looking him straight in the eyes so it must be him. The way that Mark’s always just looked at him is starting to make sense. Oh my god, he’s been such an idiot, it feels like a dream. Fuck, he should probably say something, right? 

Mark’s nervously biting his lip, and he’s just everything that Ethan has ever wanted, and now he’s just all here in front of him?

He’s entirely breathless with the need to just- god , there’s still shock coursing through him and something that feels like the heat of the sun within his veins, and he wants.

Ethan has no words that can even come close to expressing how he’s feeling right now, so he takes one, two steps closer. He can’t help but to just press their foreheads together, tip upwards further, and press his lips to Mark’s like he’s always wanted to.

He pulls back just the slightest. “It is what I think you’re saying, right?” Ethan says, hesitant.

“God, yes,” Mark says, desperately, with just the slightest shake in his voice, and grabs Ethan’s face with both hands and kisses him.

Holy fuck.

Oh, fuck, Mark is kissing him , kissing him like he’s never wanted anything more, and it’s all Ethan’s ever wanted, the searing press of soft lips on his own.

Electricity courses all the way down to the tips of his fingers.

(Is he seriously seeing fireworks behind his eyelids? Yes, he knows it’s cliché, shut up, oh my god, what is happening.)

Ethan’s eyelids flutter shut and he winds his arms around Mark’s neck and buries his hands in Mark’s dark hair just to steady himself. Mark leans into him further with no hesitation and Ethan stumbles back slightly to accommodate him, but Mark is just there, all of him, and Ethan can’t get close enough to him. Mark keeps walking Ethan back until he backs into the counter, and his hands come down to protect Ethan from hitting the counter too hard, and come back to cradle his jaw gently, rough calluses and all-

And oh.

Ethan’s fallen so fucking deep. Yeah, he knew he liked Mark, a lot - but he loves Mark. How he wasn’t aware of this until they were literally making out with each other, he doesn’t know. But he’s fallen ocean depths, Mariana Trench deep. Shot out into space, out to the edges of the universe, Space Is Cool by Markiplier deep.

At the best times, when his eyes are bright and squinty and he collapses into giggles, at the worst, when he’s down or angry and fiery with a wild energy inside of him, both loud or the quiet anger. At the times in between, when he sees him sleepy in the morning, smiling at his phone, fondly teasing Ethan when he says something especially ridiculous, cuddling up with Chica or Henry.

Ethan in that moment knows that he’d be willing to do anything for Mark, and the ease in that he accepts it makes his heart pound a little harder against his ribcage.

Either way, Mark’s tongue is in his mouth and and oh, yeah no, who cares that he’s heads over heels in love with one of his best friends when he can make out with him?

The roughness of Mark’s stubble against his skin is so captivating that Ethan’s legs feel wobbly, and he can’t get enough, can’t trace his fingers through Mark’s hair enough, can’t kiss him breathless enough for an entire lifetime. 

Mark has, again, literally stolen the breath from his lungs, and Ethan surfaces and pulls away slightly, barely catching a breath before Mark pulls him back in.

They move in sync so well, the slow drag of Mark’s lips against his, Ethan can’t help but almost melt into the counter. Instinctively he drops a hand to grab onto the cold surface to steady himself, seat himself in reality.

Suddenly, Mark breaks away slightly. Their foreheads are still pressed together, clutching at each other in desperation. A small whine escapes from Ethan’s lips at the loss and embarrassed, he tries to get closer to Mark, to get him to kiss him again.

And then Mark’s hands are moving, coming to grip Ethan under his thighs and holy shit, Mark Edward Fischbach is lifting him up onto the counter with his strong arms and holy shit he’s standing between his legs and asking for more kisses with puppy eyes and if this isn’t the hottest and the most romantic thing Ethan has ever experienced in his entire fucking life.

There’s a heat inside him, a bright flame, at Mark being able to handle him so easily and so effortlessly, and he can’t help but sigh happily before he pulls Mark back in. Mark’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks before his lips meet Ethan’s again.

The world quiets down.

Mark’s hair is soft between his fingers, and there’s fingers tracing up and down his waist, tentatively brushing under the fabric of his shirt, and Ethan thinks that there has never been a moment in his life that he has felt closer to heaven. (God, it’s so cliché but he can’t help it.)

It feels like eternity before they finally separate, minds fuzzy, still entangled with each other. Ethan’s lips are numb, face tingling. One look at Mark renders him speechless; bitten red lips, that he’d caused, flushed cheeks, hair completely out of place.

Ethan tries to speak, and it takes multiple tries to put his words together into something other than gibberish, he swallows and closes his eyes and he can’t help but smile with the giddiness growing in his veins and say, “Holy shit.”

Mark rolls his eyes, with the fondest expression. “So I take that it’s reciprocated?”

“Huh?” Ethan asks, mind just full of gold sun and the rich hues of brown eyes, and oh , right. “Oh! Yeah. Obviously. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t have made out with you for-“

“God, I take it back,” says Mark, and shuts Ethan up with another searing kiss. 

(Ethan doesn’t mind at all.)

Chapter Text

Summer is in full swing. The golden sun beats down over LA, and Ethan squints even as he has his sunglasses on, checking to make sure they’d packed everything. 

“Man, I’m so excited for Unus Annus to end.” Ethan comments, reaching up to close the trunk of the car. When Mark is quiet for a moment, Ethan drops his arm and turns to look at his friend.

Mark has an eyebrow raised, and suddenly Ethan is reconsidering his use of the word “excited,” but Mark doesn’t look offended at all, only thoughtful.

“What?” asks Ethan.

“Just,” Mark hums. “Weren’t you so worried about the end of Unus Annus not that long ago?”

“I guess.” Ethan shrugs. “But, that was when I wasn’t sure what we were going to be when we stopped, you know? It’s different now.”

“Yeah?” Mark is smirking a little, a glint of something like pride in his eyes.

“Yeah.” The corner of Ethan’s mouth tugs upward and he nudges Mark aside so he can reach up again and pull the truck closed. “You’re stuck with me now.”

There’s a stupid grin on both of their faces. Life has felt almost unreal, with so many small touches and kisses now, so casually integrated into their everyday lives. Even now, as Mark plucks the sunglasses off Ethan’s face to reply, “Unfortunately,” and give him a kiss, Ethan’s heart stutters and sings and his brain turns to mush.

Ethan goes for the driver’s seat as Mark gets into the passenger seat. Chica and Spencer are in the back. They’re driving to the desert, just the two of them. Just for a few days. All the camera equipment is in the back and they’d planned to make plenty of videos making use of the desert environment, but mostly, it meant time and space for just Ethan and Mark. 

“I get what you mean. I’m excited for it to end too.” Mark finally says, when he’s done setting up the GPS directions for Ethan on his phone. “So many projects that I can jump right into, and one that I can wrap up nice and easy, and be incredibly proud of it. I’m just glad you’re no longer worried about the end, y’know.”

“Well, I’m not sure I was worried .” Ethan responds, pulling out of the driveway. They’d talked about this before, after the first day Ethan had finally opened up, a late night conversation to clear it all up. “I knew we were still going to be friends, obviously. I just wanted so much more that anytime you came close began to hurt, I guess. And it weighed down on me.”

“Mm. I’m still sorry about that.”

“And I’m still going to say you don’t need to be, Mark, shush.”

The drive isn’t short, but Ethan doesn’t mind at all. He reaches for the aux cable after heading onto the driveway, putting on a random playlist on his Spotify. Over the speakers, there’s a familiar, steady kick of drums, then the guitars. A wide smile spreads across Ethan’s face.

When the lights go out, will you take me with you? 

And carry all this broken bone

Through six years down in crowded rooms

And highways I call home?

At first, he’s just bopping his head along, not wanting to annoy Mark by singing, who seems to be checking that his latest upload is okay on his phone. But then the chorus comes on. Ethan can’t not sing the chorus.

And if you stay, I would even wait all night

Or until my heart explodes

How long until we find our way in the dark and out of harm?

You can run away with me, anytime you want!

Ethan laughs breathlessly, glancing over at Mark and meeting his eyes. There’s something fond glimmering there, and in the smile that Mark has as he watches Ethan belt out the high notes.

They banter and chat and sing the whole way there - the way that the golden sun warms every corner inside his mind is something he hasn’t felt in very long, yet it feels so familiar. Nothing’s changed about the way Mark laughs with his head back when Ethan says something particularly hilarious, or the way they immediately slip into ridiculous voices when they hear a serious song and make themselves giggle. It’s just that now, Ethan knows what the adoring look on Mark’s face means.

-

The Airbnb they’re staying at has basketball hoops set up, and a game of horseshoes set up in the back. They’d left the car parked in the shade, relief out of the hot dry sun, as they filmed a few videos for Unus Annus. Chica and Spencer chase each other excitedly in the wide open space, and Ethan is crouched in front of the pathway, digital camera aimed at the scenery in front of him. 

The blue of the sky and the oranges of the desert land reflected in the metallic walls of the building, with the basketball hoops, Ethan can see the photo vividly in his mind. Peering through the viewfinder, he messes around with the dial until the light meter is centered, keeps the lens steady, and-

“Hey, ya goof,” Mark says right into his ear, and Ethan almost falls over.

“Jesus Christ ,” Ethan yelps, hand flying up to his chest. “What was that for?”

Mark doesn’t answer, instead, he just squats down and rests his chin on his hand. “What’cha taking a picture of?”

“Just the building and the scenery,” mumbles Ethan, setting up the shot again. “At least I was , until you almost made me shit my pants.”

“Whoops,” Mark says, watching Ethan as he turns up the aperture number. “What’re you setting up that’s taking so long though?”

“Well, I’m trying to get the lighting right, and it’s bright as fuck out here, so I had to turn the aperture and shutter speed all the way up, and then turn down the ISO, but then I also wanted a bit of background blur so I’m trying to keep the aperture opening big. And then I like the colors most about this shot and I’m trying to make the tone purposefully warm so I was messing around with the white balance settings, so that I can see the orange and the bright bright blue against each other, ‘cause they’re complimentary colors, and the basketball hoops kind of frame the subject, it’s gonna look so fucking rad. And I just got this new lens and it was expensive as hell but I think it’s so worth it, I wanna mess around with all the settings.” The click of the shutter. “See, look, and then I can bring them out a tiny bit more in editing, but it looks real cool right now.”

He holds out the camera for Mark to look at, who hums in response, and then gives Ethan a look like he’s deep in thought.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you, like, full photography nerd before.”

Ethan flushes. “I try to keep it lowkey, but yeah, I just think it’s super cool.”

“It’s really cool,” Mark agrees, genuinely. Ethan distracts himself from his fluttering heart by capping the lens and packing his camera back into his bag.

“I’m glad you think so, because I’m probably going to nerd out tonight taking pictures of the stars, and the shutter sound is going to bother you throughout your entire space loving session.” 

“Totally fine by me,” says Mark. “You good to go? Let’s head inside and eat, I’m starving.”

“Alright, yeah! Let’s go baby!” Ethan announces and hops up, brushing the dirt off his knees.

-

Some Cracker Barrel takeout later, the sun is finally setting, its last rays of golden light hanging onto the edges of the few wispy clouds before the sky fades into a warm purple, blue, black. Ethan hangs back to clean up the table, insisting that Mark go on first and set up the telescope. Of course, Mark bickers a little, but eventually gives in and heads outside on the promise that Ethan will be outside soon too.

Dim yellow lighting. The warmth of the food, the coziness settling over Ethan’s heart. Spencer pads around the kitchen at his heels as he busies himself throwing away the trash, and Ethan squats down to give Spencer an affectionate scritch on the head and a “How’re you liking the desert, bub? Have fun so far?” 

He takes his time, in no rush to let this moment get past him. When everything is all tidy, Ethan leans against the counter. Breathe in, out . 

Everything feels like where it’s supposed to be.

Months ago, right at the beginning of Unus Annus, where had he been? Hopelessly yet cluelessly pining for his best friend, feeling as though he wasn’t allowed to get too close, wasn’t allowed to see his own value. 

But he could . And it wasn’t wrong to do so. And Mark likes, loves him back. Ethan is astonished at the fact that Mark even loves Ethan a fraction of how much Ethan loves Mark (don’t tell Mark that Ethan thinks that, he knows that Mark would throw a fit), but everything seems right.

It’d been both a terrifyingly long, and simultaneously short year. He thinks he’s changed a lot, in the past year. For the better.

(He can’t wait to tell his therapist, she’d be so proud.)

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he peers out the window. Mark, a silhouette against the starry sky, has his head tilted upwards, Chica resting her head in his lap, with the telescope next to them. 

Goddammit. Ethan still doesn’t understand how someone can be so pretty.

Before he heads outside to join Mark, he grabs his camera and takes a picture. He doesn’t want to forget this warmth.

-

“I’m gonna get sand everywhere,” Ethan complains. “There’s gonna be sand in my hair, in my shoes, in my pockets, in my ass-”

“You big baby, just move up here to the pavement, then.”

“-I’m gonna have a sandy ass. Sandy vagina but it’s my ass. Oh, it’s like the mummy video, you got seasoning fuckin’ everywhere , I’m gonna make you lick me clean except it’s sand .”

“Oh my god, just come here, there’s less sand here.”

“But the ground’s so hard! I’ve already gotten back pain from my shitty mattress, not to mention how much you like to crush me in your sleep, my bones are being abused .”

“Says the one who turns into a literal octopus when he sleeps.”

Ethan pouts. 

“Well, you’ve got two choices, either be sandy or be in pain.” Mark says.

“Both are the same,” declares Ethan, but he wants to be next to Mark anyways, so he sighs and scoots up to the pavement. Plus, he doesn’t want to be bitten by any desert snakes or whatever was hiding under the rocks. It feels a bit like a movie, with just the two of them, laying side by side, gazing upwards at the constellations. 

They’d filmed a short video with the telescope and stargazing, discussing everything and nothing. With the filming all good and done for the night, they’re finally winding down to take the time for themselves.

The vast, endless expanse of space hangs above them. Far away from the city and light pollution, thousands and thousands of stars reveal themselves.

It’s a long while of comfortable silence before Ethan glances over, to find that Mark’s eyes are already on him.

He raises an eyebrow, at which Mark does back at him.

“What?” Ethan whispers, a grin tugging at his mouth.

“Nothin’, you just look pretty.” Mark replies, like it’s the most casual, obvious thing in the world.

It’s fortunate that it’s too dark for Mark to see the way Ethan’s face immediately turns pink, cheeks burning. “Oh my god.”

“What? It’s true.”

Ethan covers his face with his hands. He is actually going to melt into the ground. “Mark, I- you can’t just say that.” 

“I can and I will,” Mark declares, scooting closer. Ethan peeks out through his fingers. “And you better enjoy it while I’m still all soft like this. You’re always pretty, I’m just reminding you.”

You’re pretty too, sits on Ethan’s tongue, but he holds it back for now because his heart is stuttering too much. Instead, he uncovers his face and teases, “Who knew Mark Fischbach could be so cheesy?” 

“Fuck off, let me be as cheesy as I want. I deserve it after so long.”

At Mark’s words, Ethan blinks. Rolls over onto his side and pushes himself up on his elbows. “So long?”

“Yeah.”

“How long?” Ethan blurts out. “‘Cause Kathryn told me it’s been a while, but I don’t really believe that.”

“...Kathryn talked to you about me?”

“Well, kinda, yeah, because one time you came over she thought we got together but we hadn’t yet at that time, and then I sort of gave in and confessed I liked you, and she was like ‘bruh Mark’s liked you too for years’ but I think that’s impossible, anyways that’s besides the point, how long?”

It’s Mark’s turn to blink at Ethan, but he evidently decides to ignore the majority of Ethan’s ramble for now. (They’ve got all the time in the world now, anyways. He could ask plenty of questions later.) Instead of responding, Mark asks, “How long since you knew you liked me ?”

“You can’t just not answer my question and ask it right back!” exclaims Ethan.

“Well, you’re not getting an answer from me until you answer.”

“What! I asked you first, mister.”

“Sometimes life is unfair-”

“Well, you’re not getting my answer until you answer.” Ethan taps his chin. “Nor are you getting any kisses.”

Mark raises an eyebrow. “I guess neither of us will ever get an answer.”

Ethan swings his leg over and pushes himself up so he’s straddling Mark and rests his elbows on Mark’s chest, his face over Mark’s. Below him, his friend’s face is full of amusement. “As if you could resist this face.”

“You know I could, the question is if you can resist mine .” Mark says, and his eyes flicker down to Ethan’s lips, making the other smirk.

After a few seconds of tense standoff, faces mere inches from each other, Ethan groans. “This is stupid. I’ll get an answer out of you eventually,” he says, cupping Mark’s face, and finally tilting down to press their lips together. Mark smiles triumphantly into the kiss, but happily kisses back, eyes falling shut and arms wrapping around Ethan’s waist.

Under the stars, everything has fallen into place.

-

It seems like the audience is catching on. Ethan always scrolls through as many comments as he can on all of their videos, and now there’s a good percentage of them all about whatever happened to “don’t touch me,” and how practically they’re doing the complete opposite of that now.

“Character development is going from ‘don’t touch me’ to doing a camp together with too much team bonding, and then piercing each other’s ears, and then massaging each other, and then literally doing the Koala Couple’s Challenge,” Ethan reads, and snickers.

He knows Mark and himself haven’t been very subtle. The way that they’re so much more openly comfortable and genuinely care for each other, the way that they have so many casual touches with the shot put video and the marching band video, the way that Mark’s hands linger when they’re wrestling. 

But honestly, they haven’t discussed going to lengths to hide it, and he doesn’t really see a point to. It should probably be a bigger deal to him, but the whole transition from friends to boyfriends has been so seamless and natural, he finds it hard to see any reason to hide it from the world. 

Obviously being in the public eye, things are always complicated. But with the more photos he collects on his camera and his phone of Mark and their shared moments, the more he wants to announce to the world and show him off and say, hey look, I love him!

Ethan’s over at Mark’s place (like usual), in the kitchen cooking lunch when Mark comes in and refills his water bottle, then leans against the counter.

“Hey,” Ethan greets, looking up. “Thought you were streaming with the boys?”

“Yep! Just taking a quick break.” Mark says. “Is that my hoodie?”

Ethan looks down at himself. “Uhh, yeah.”

“The one that you stole and kept in your room?”

“...To be fair you did tell me that I could keep it.”

“True, true.” Mark smiles. “Just thought it was kinda cute. Oh and also, I wanted to ask you something.”

Still recovering from Mark’s words, Ethan turns away from the stove to give Mark his full attention. “Oh?”

“Are we boyfriends?”

Ethan blinks at him. “Yes?”

“Oh okay, good, I just wanted to double check.” Mark reaches out and playfully pushes the hair that’s fallen into Ethan’s face away. “Wasn’t really sure, but I really wanted it to be true.”

“Wait, what else,” giggles Ethan. “Ah yes. I’m just casually making out with my bro, y’know, declaring my love for my bro, no homo-”

“Hey, just checking, we’re keeping good communication ,” retorts Mark indignantly. 

“Yes, and it’s very much appreciated.” Ethan grins at the other. “Oh, and speaking of communication, I wanted to ask if you’re okay with letting the rest of the world know? About us?”

Mark tilts his head, thinking. “Of course. But we’d have to think about how. And we should probably tell our families and friends first.”

“That’s totally fine with me.”

“Me too, then.” Mark leans forward to press a kiss on Ethan’s forehead. “Gotta get back to the stream, we can talk about it more later, yeah?”

Ethan smiles, shoos Mark on his way. “Sounds good, babe, have fun!” 

Things end up going really smoothly, in fact, too smoothly, because it turns out that apparently all of their friends had been betting on them getting together. Kathryn, although laughing from how long it took for them to get their shit together, gives Ethan a shoulder nudge and tells him that she’s happy for them. When Ethan messages Seán, he responds with “Y’all weren’t together already???” and then “Oh shit I called it, the end of Unus Annus you both are going to get a house and get married” and Ethan almost dies laughing at Mark’s face when he shows him.

In the end, they both don’t have to make any formal announcements for the rest of the world. There’s a bit in one of their videos where Mark ends up kissing Ethan out of the blue, and the way that Ethan gets so caught off guard is so funny that neither he or Mark can bring themselves to edit it out. 

Ethan just sits back when the video is uploaded and happily watches all his social media start blowing up. Unus Annus has always been the bringer of goodhearted chaos, after all. 

-

The car door slams shut. Mark’s got the camera in hand, with Ethan at the driver’s seat.

“I cannot believe we’re doing this,” says Mark, footage shaky as he buckles the seatbelt.

“Mark, we have to go even further beyond , we gotta!” Ethan leans over, gets up close to Mark and the camera. He’s reminded of a bit from long, long ago, and he can’t resist bringing it back. “C’mon, Mark, we have to get closer! The end is nigh, it’s almost been one full year - not to mention one hell of a year - how’re we gonna finish it off with a grand finale if we’re not close?”

“We’re plenty close enough,” Mark mumbles, pretending to be exasperated but there’s a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Ethan presses his cheek up against Mark’s. “Don’t you love me? Tell me you love me.”

Mark rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging up. “Unfortunately, I do love you.”

Ethan’s heart blooms. “I love you too.”

-