"Knock it off!" Aaron ordered half-heartedly from his position on the couch, controller in hand, "We're recording."

Mark grinned deviously, continuing to push his nose against yami's neck and occasionally nuzzle against his ear, "What? Can't handle the Markimash?"

"You're a bloody cock." he retorted, pushing Mark's face away with one hand, eyes still helplessly trying to stay concentrated on the game.

Livestream, the fourth hour, some casual Smash Bros and a few shots of alcohol in Mark's system. It was pretty normal, apart from the fact it was their third week in an open relationship. Telling YouTube was a little strange to do, but there was good support with the fans, a few haters (but there always are), and some stalker-like fangirls who wanted all of the nitty gritty details about it.

It turned out that living together made life a little easier. Co-ops were easier to set up, and they read fanfiction for a charity stream that got twice as much donation money after Mark planted one on Yami mid-narration.

Today was a regular Friday night, a surprise stream with mostly random Q and A moments with a game no one really is that interested in being played in the background. Mark had decided to ramp up the game a bit when Yami finally managed to pull ahead, using their relationship as a bit of cruel leverage. It surprised Aaron just how quickly the number of viewers had jumped up once it started, at first with a few innocent bumps and nudges, slowly becoming a little more sensual as the game went on. Slowly... it was going very slowly.

"Head in the game! Not in your pants Mark!"

"Well what if I wanted it to be in your pants?" Mark chuckled, not removing himself from Aaron's neck while trying to keep eyes on the screen.

Yami groaned, "You're an absolute pervert."

The chat was going crazy.

Bluebird: Oh mah god I ship it!

T1nyTRex: Are they going 2 make out?

SuperWhoMerLock16: Oh my god please do.

Girlsbetrippin: If they kiss I will lose my shit

And so it went on, the more they played, the more people were demanding something completely unrelated to it to go down. Mark wasn't even bothering to try and control his laughter. He played along with it, felt Aaron up a little more, answered a few questions about their love life, all the time Yami tried to keep his attention solely focused on using his game character to beat the shit out of Mark's. By the end of a few rounds, Yami was seated in Mark's lap with those large arms wrapped around his torso, Mark's controller acting as the link of the chain of limbs surrounding Aaron. Not that he wasn't comfortable, but... it felt like a little too much fan service. If that made sense... Intimate things should be a little more private. Not for the sake of an extra hundred drooling fangirls.

T1nyTRex: Is Yami mad?

Holli3354: Mark! You have to kiss him to make him feel better!

Yamimash69: Yami? You alright?

BlueBird: I don't think Yami wants to kiss...

BlueBird: Sad day...

"You alright Yami?" Mark questioned, quoting the chat, attention slowly being drawn away from the game, and flipping to Aaron.

"Dandy. I just want to play the game." he replied, a frown on his face.

Mark smirked, nudging Yami's cheek with his own, "You don't want to upset the fans, do you?"

There it was again. The fans. Sure, it was the reason they did what they did. Their careers revolved around the people that watched them do stupid things, but what about just being a couple. He grunted and pulled his face away. "Maybe I do."

The chat started to dwindle a little. The comments slowly getting a little glum. Mark frowned, "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Yami repeated, insulted, "You're the one selling your soul to the crowds!"

And then the chat went to hell. Some people got a little pissy, others concerned, some screaming in all capital letters about the end of markimash. Mark watched it diligently as the mood quickly went sour, passing Yami a few disappointed glances, "That was a little uncalled for, don't you think? You're upsetting everybody."

Aaron had reached the last straw with that. He paused the game, tossed the controller in front of him, and started to stand, pushing at Mark's arms as the held fast. "Let me up." He ordered, trying to unclamp Mark's hands from the controller.

The youtuber held the smaller man in place, discarding his controller, but keeping him grounded where he sat, "Aaron, what's the matter?"

"I'm done livestreaming." he replied, casually, "Let me get up."

"We're supposed to stream for another hour Yami..."

"Damn it Mark! Let me go!"

"No." Mark retorted, holding tighter, trying to keep the man in his arms from squirming around too much, "Calm down."

"I don't want to."

Now, this wasn't his ideal way to talk about it, but the issue had been plaguing Yami for a while. When they were together in secret, it was just he two of them. Their relationship wasn't anyone else's business. They'd been long distance, so not many people expected, save for the shippers, and talked regularly. They'd taken trips together and stayed over a few times. That was cherished time, just for the two of them. Aaron had thought it would be a great idea to move in together; go public. They'd be closer more often. However, he'd been drowned out by the fans.

It had been a reoccurring theme in hate comments, suggesting that Mark was becoming too full of himself, that he was too focused on his own fame. Of course, Yami didn't believe such nonsense. The guy was genuine, and kind. He was so appreciative of the support he'd been given. But... lately, it felt like he was exploiting their relationship. Like it was all just to fuel the audience.

Maybe he was stupid to feel like that, but... everything they did was on camera now. There weren't any private moments for the two of them to share like they used to. There was no cherished time. It was everyone's time. They were in a relationship with the fans. He felt a little used. Kisses were always photographed, dates were filmed, even stupid little home-like moments were put on social media. He couldn't even watch a romantic movie without Mark insisting they record it somehow.

It wasn't a stupid feeling at all.

"Aaron?" Mark asked, eyes filled with genuine concern when the man had finally stopped fighting his grip and had grown quiet.

"I'll be fine..." he muttered, turning a little in his seat and slinging his outer arm up to rest a hand on Mark's stubbled-cheek. He wanted to look in his eyes for this. He needed to hold Mark's full attention. "Mark..." he mumbled, "I think we should break up."