You meet Jake Seresin in the middle of the worst date you've ever been on. What follows is a whirlwind of a life you never expected to live.
This fic is explicit and does describe mutually consensual sexual acts.
⚠ Crossposted on AO3 and Tumblr! ⚠
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You meet Jake Seresin in the midst of what is arguably the worst first date you'd ever been on. San Diego is at its' best on the gorgeous summer day you greet James outside a bustling bar for your first date. You'd come across James' profile after signing up on Tinder for the first time at the prompting of your girlfriends. At first glance, he is the ideal match for you. He seemed intelligent, 30 years old, worked out regularly to keep fit, had a full-time job, and was a family man. There were no glaring red flags, so you swiped right. Your conversation in the app was a bit boring, but you figured it was more due to the medium of your interactions than the man himself. So you had set up a date, picking a bar in a popular area of the city and dolling yourself up in the prettiest sundress you own, a violet number that swishes to the middle of your thighs.
It was the best of times, the worst of crimes I struck a match and blew your mind But I didn't mean it and you didn't see it
If only he didn't open his mouth as you sat at a table and began to get to know one another. The first indicator that James was too good to be true was when he ordered you a gin and tonic without asking you what you liked. And then there was the conversation. All he could talk about was himself, his ex-girlfriend, and, shockingly, his mother. If he wasn't chatting your ear off about the paragon of virtue and perfection that his ex was, he was talking about his mama and how he ached, longed, and pined to find somebody to do for him what she did for his dad and their family. From what you could gather, the man had a borderline uncomfortably close relationship with his mother. He'd even mentioned needing his mom to hold his hand for his yearly physical. It had been over an hour, and he hadn't asked you one question about yourself! Needing a break, you excused yourself, alluding to refreshing your drink, and made your way to the bar.
I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason "X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself
The bar was packed as expected for a Friday night in San Diego. The crush of people pressed you up against the countertop. The bartenders rushed from end to end, filling out drink orders at lightning speed. You finally managed to order an Old-Fashioned and were waiting patiently for the bartender to come back with your drink, idly playing with your phone and desperately counting the minutes until you could say goodbye to your date for the night.
"One Old-Fashioned," came the harried bartender's call as she passed the cut crystal glass over the bar top towards you.
"Thanks," You chirp, praying your smile isn't as pained as you feel.
"Thanks, darlin'," is also the response from the man on your right as his hand closes over yours and the amber drink in the glass.
I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed
"O-oh!" you gasp. "Sorry, it's a zoo in here. We must have ordered the same thing!" You release the glass into his grasp.
"An old-fashioned, huh?" He enquires in a deliciously Texan twang. The rest of him is just as delicious, from the emerald eyes, the dirty blonde hair, the cut jaw with a toothpick pressed between thin lips, and the broad shoulders in a polo just a shade darker than his arresting eyes. He's tall, too, at least six feet, and for once, you don't feel like a child looking up at him. Instead, you feel positively delicate in his shadow.
