Jacob Frye oneshots

Modern Ac Jacob Frye???😳😳

A late summer's evening.

The fan whirring as it oscillated from side to side in the corner of the room.

The windows that would usually be protecting my skin from the cold now harboured the day's heat as they were fully open to allow the gentle breeze to circulate through my home.

I'm laid out on the sofa with a chilled can of Dr. Pepper in one hand whilst watching my favourite Netflix series. Or at least I was, until I heard a crash cut through the quiet volume of the TV. But I don't get up. At this point, hearing the clattering and muted cussing in the next room around this time was commonplace.

About five minutes pass, enough time for the clutter that was undoubtfully spread at large over the kitchen floor to be carelessly cleared and left out to organise  later, and the living room door creaks open. That hinge again. I thought he'd looked at that already. I feel the familiar dip of the soft material as his forearms rest on the back of the sofa and I needn't open my weary eyes to know that there's a grin painted over his face. He'd be looking down at me, waiting, silently daring me to use my last heaps of energy to look at him.

Instead, I turn my head to the side to inspect the clock hung on the wall. Of course, it's crookedly placed- considering who put it up.

"You're later than usual tonight," I finally speak up with exhaust obvious in my tone but a soft smile on my face, "12:36 am."

He chuckles and inhales a steady breath before replying, "I can't help but keep you guessing. If you ended up finding me predictable, you'd get bored of me." I finally turned my gaze back. Ah yes, there he is. The familiar dark hair, slicked back with a few strands hanging down to his forehead. Those dark brown eyes with that spark of mischief that I'm so acclimated to, so drawn to even after all these years. The two scars that are almost scrawled down his face just make him so unique and different in the way that anyone else would think he was dangerous (the teddy bear side of him being specially reserved for me- lucky little me).

"If I knew any better, Frye, with that tainted breath, I'd assume you had an extra drink with that gang of yours. Would that be right?" I raise an eyebrow and sit up, patting the space next to me. It was true, his breath smelled strongly of whiskey and it came to no surprise. After all, a celebration of victory with his gang was to be truly celebrated. I think to the time in which he'd invited me to the local pub for one of such parties. The atmosphere was merry, exciting and in a way, comforting. He'd stood up on one of the tables to address his Rooks and congratulate them with the brightest look of delight on his face- a true show of his passion for each and every member.

A sarcastic look of disbelief showed with his eyebrows arched upwards, "Me? Staying out to drink? Who do you think I am, love?" Pushing himself up and vaulting over the back of the sofa, he landed clumsily beside me with one arm resting behind my shoulders. "In all fairness, we're one step closer to our ultimate goal of stopping Starrick once and for all." I screw my nose and eyes up just at the mention of the rat-like man who unfortunately held so much power. The grotesque man who would cheat those who weren't as affluent as he, who weren't as governing as he.

"Please, Jacob. Leave work-matters out of this time we have. You're away with it enough as it is and I barely see you all day," I plead and rest my hand on the back of his own, "Let me look at that scar on your shoulder again, I need to see if its healing well." Jacob peels off his grey-black hoodie to reveal the short-sleeved shirt underneath. The collar is low hanging, low enough for me to see the dark tattoo of the rook that contrasts his light skin so elegantly. I gently pull the sleeve up and remove the bandaging, sighing with relief when I see that the stab wound is mending satisfyingly. It was only two weeks ago that Jake had hobbled through the front door, clutching his shoulder, thinking it was a good idea to give me a heart attack then and there. It had always intrigued me how he'd come to me first when it came to his battle scars. I was there to patch up the wound that caused a crevice through his eyebrow. I was there to provide the aftercare for the scar that ran a discoloured, light line through his stubbled cheek.

"I told you before, Doctor, it's fine. Just a scratch." He quoted exactly what he'd said to me two weeks ago, and when my brow furrowed he giggled with amusement. I applied some ointment and replaced the bandage. I shook my head and looked back to his face.

"It could have been more serious. In reality, you were very lucky that time around, Jake."

"I know... I'm sorry for joking like that. It's just what I'm used to." He heaved a heavy sigh and looked down to his lap. He'd actively come to me to vent about the things that weighed like the weight of the world on his shoulders. His twin sister, Evie, and her obsession with quoting their father and putting him down for his more impulsive and reckless methods; Those he held close betraying him and turning out to be some of the worst people that he'd later execute for the trouble they caused; For comfort in general, I seemed to be his safe space. I'd love nothing more than for him to perceive me this way for eternity, should I be so lucky. But on the few occasions that he wouldn't be able to visit, his way of coping with the criticism was through jest and quip.

Of course there was no doubting that for people with less patience for his quick wit and foolhardiness, seeing Jacob as a big kid with no sense of responsibility would quickly bore and exasperate. But for me, its a whole different story that I remind him of each time that he comes to me to cool off. He'd run his hands through his hair and objurgate for hours, complaining that he was actually doing something for their cause and that he didn't mean to nearly crash the British economy. Whilst everyone else would contend with his take on his actions, I'd be there to listen and take the edge off of him, to loosen his tense shoulders and tell him that he was doing just fine, that he was only human and that mistakes were bound to be made sometimes.

I cuddled up closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder and rubbing his back which he melted into within a few short seconds.

"I know. And I don't blame  you... Just know that with me, you don't have to put up such a nonchalant front. You're allowed to care for yourself with me and not be seen as selfish."

We stayed like that for a while, my eyelids feeling heavier by the second. Jake must have been able to tell without looking at my face how drained and sleepy I was as he threw the extra pillows off the sofa into the corner of the room, providing more space for us to lay down together.

"Somehow, you're more tired than I am." I could feel his laughter resonating in his chest as I fought to keep my eyes open.
"Staying up for you to get here and climb through my kitchen window is tiring work." We briefly giggled over what I'd said before it went quiet. "You'll be here when I wake up, won't you? You won't do one of your disappearing acts?" I managed to mumble out the question as I pressed my face further towards his torso. He was warm, but not so warm  that during this season, I'd be repulsed to clinging to him this way.

"I'll be right here, don't you worry."