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Jack knew how to angle the blade just right. Knew how to cut the deepest, scratching it roughly in a sideways manner across one of his hips. It honestly didn't take long to learn how to do this right, once he found out different angles wielded different results. (The corner of the blade pressing into his skin, the back of it towards him, because that corner was sharpest. He didn't know if the other corner had always been so dull or if he... dulled it out himself, but he figured it didn't matter. He never did anything to himself that he didn't deserve, anyway.)
The bearded man watched the skin part, the red slow to reveal before giving away to a light drop. He let his eyes close as he reveled in the sting, leaning back against the bathroom wall. His thoughts slowly waned away from him, and he took slow deep breaths as he relaxed, before slowly reminding himself why he was doing this. Let the memories remind him of why exactly he deserved it this week.
For one... He called Gavin something a little too harsh in the recent minecraft let's play. Gavin, of course, had laughed it off, but the words he spoke, followed by Ray's "Damn, Jack," immediately made him cringe, knowing he was in the wrong. He wouldn't ever say something close to what he said to anyone else, so the fact he did it just then... He wanted to take the words back immediately. And even though he helped Gavin out, when he lost his tools in lava, it still made his gut twist with unease.
The fans, of course, pointed it out the second the let's play was released. Michael, only glancing once at the video, made a face, talking about how he should have edited that part out, knowing the fans were going to be jerks about it. Jack disagreed in his mind. He hated himself for what he said, and the fans were right to hate him for it too, even if they were unaware of the apology Jack spoke after the recording was over.
'jack was so mean in this one' and 'wow the gents picking on gavin again, big surprise'.
One in particular, left a sour feeling in him.
'Jack is such an asshole. I still don't get why he's around.'
That really wasn't the image he wanted of himself, that he wanted other people to have and he hated the idea of Gavin even slightly taking it to heart. Even if, when he apologized, Gavin had looked confused, before laughing, realizing what he was 'on about' before pecking him on the cheek with a "Not that big of a deal, you dope. Geoff has said worse."
Still, though.
It wasn't right of him, and Jack knew he deserved this one, with a soft sigh.
Jack drew another line, this time on his right hip instead of the left. Deeper this time, angling it just so. He breathed out, the pain of it catching him a bit off guard with the suddenness. He had gotten it just on his hip bone, and it stung. Oh man. His breathing deepened, watching it for a long moment, as a bigger drop emerged, sliding slowly down, before he dabbed at it with a piece of toilet paper he thankfully had near him. As much as he deserved it, he couldn't have it stain his pants. They weren't dark like his shirt was, and he didn't need any of his partners worried about him.
He just, needed this. And he knew they wouldn't get that.
Jack drew it again the second the memories of his partners floated back, familiar and leaving an awful twisting in his gut, leading him to another bad thing he did this week.
He had forgotten, about his date with Ryan two nights ago. Forgotten. What kind of fucking asshole did that to someone? He only even ended up remembering, when the confused gent had called him, unsure and hesitant, like he was bothering him, or like he was the one with the wrong time. Nothing ever managed to make Jack feel that shitty that quickly, like the tone Ryan had used. "Tonight's the night, isn't it?" He had mumbled, like he was being dumb or something.
Jack had rushed, immediate and apologetic, and even though he only showed up twenty five minutes late, it left a disgusting taste in the back of his mouth. Solo dates were important to all of them, and Ryan deserved so, so much better than that. The gent had said a gentle "Don't worry about it, you were stressing over trials a lot today," but Jack pushed it off immediately, refusing to let his stupidity go unhandled. He never, ever wanted to do that to anyone ever again.
He had been in the wrong. He should have remembered. He needed to have remembered, and he wasn't there, and it was his fuck up, his mistake. And if he... if he made too many of those, Jack was sure they would leave him. So he needed to remember.
This was a good reminder for him. He was sure.
Jack drew another soft red line. He remembered the way that Ryan had answered his phone. Remembered the way he told Michael that no, no nothing's wrong. Jack just forgot.
Jack was an awful person, he knew. He didn't deserve any of them. But... maybe if he could just... just remember. He could be better. He could be good enough for them.
And when he drew another line, harsh this time, at the reminder of Ray's face, when he told him that they couldn't hang out that night, it felt like a little piece of forgiveness, a step in the right direction, even as his hips burned and stung, the blade parting the skin easy, like a hot knife through butter, he felt better.
He felt good.
He let out a slow shaky breath, letting his shirt drop, thankful it wouldn't stain the dark shirt. He heard his phone buzz, somewhere in the back of his mind, but Jack was floating, and he needed to put his blade away.
He closed the bathroom door shut behind him, before heading back to his room, gripping the blade tightly between his finger and thumb. He opened his door and stepped inside, walking over to his dresser, before sliding open the top one, his sock drawer. He slid the blade into the back left corner and pushed his socks over it, to hide it from immediate sight.
After all, none of his partners ever opened this drawer besides once, when Michael wanted to borrow some of his clothes, and once he realized it was just socks, he closed it and rifled through the others.
Still didn't stop his heart from leaping into his throat, though. But he figured no one would ever check there again. After all, who borrows socks of all things from their boyfriend?
Jack sighed, closing the drawer slowly. The stinging in his hips felt good. Better than good. It felt like the bad was finally leaking out of him, leaving just... Just him, in general. His normal self, happy and content, and he found himself cracking a smile. It felt like everything was going to be okay again. He corrected his mistakes for the week, so he was good. Everything was.
Jack slid his hand into his back pocket, reminded of the text message he had received from earlier, and he looked at the message he got from Geoff with ease.
'you okay?' and Jack just rolled his eyes, somewhat amused and somewhat giddy.
'Never better' he sent back.
He wondered if maybe Ray would still be up to hanging out again tonight. After all, his business was done here.
Jack could forgive himself, for this week.