The guilty feeling doesn't go away like it should. And honestly, Jacob doesn't even know why he feels so bad about it. It isn't his fault the boy is so sensitive or whatever. He has always just been honest about things like that. Like the time Caspar got a streak through his hair and all he did was call him a skunk for the time he had it. But, Jacob still watches him in their astronomy class, and he notices how his nails remain dull and unpainted, and really, he feels a bit like the equivalence to shit.
(He also notices that the boy carries around bottles/jars/cartons of strawberry milk everywhere he goes, which is really fucking weird, but whatever. Jacob's already established in his mind that the boy is strange.)
His chance to apologise comes quick and easy within the next few weeks (because it's much too early in the school year to be burdened with such guilt, and also because the astronomy teacher is assigning a project that you can do alone or in partners, and Jacob's never been one to work alone.)
So he figures that this would be the best time to apologise to the mess of a boy, ease his degradable conscience, and also get a partner. That way he doesn't fall into an implication of depression, and the boy, or girl, or whatever he identifies as, can go back to painting his nails.
He sighs, picking up his backpack. The boy is sitting there, picking at his own bag and biting at his lip as the people around him look for partners or begin their work alone. Jacob sits next to him, ignoring the way the boy looks over startled. He stares straight-ahead at the giant board, and says: "So here's the thing," he sighs, "I didn't mean what I said a few weeks ago to like, hurt your feelings or anything. If you like painting your nails, then you should do that, and not like, care if anyone else doesn't like it, because their opinions shouldn't matter, y'know?" Jacob takes a breath, finally glancing over to see the boy wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. On a whim, he adds, "and like, I noticed you scraping it off, and that you haven't been wearing any, and I think you should, because that's what you like."
The boy blushes, and Jacob thinks it might be the only thing he knows how to do. He also looks away, wringing his fingers nervously which makes Jacob want to keep talking.
"Also, my name is Jacob and I really want you to be my partner, so that maybe I can prove to you I'm not as big as a twat as I probably came off as." He holds his hand out, offering a shrug and a small smile.
The boy watches Jacob's hand carefully, before gently wrapping his own around it. Soft.
"My names Troye," the boy says shyly, a small smile covering his own face as well, "and I wouldn't mind being your partner."
(The next day as Jacob is walking through the lunchroom as a shortcut to his next class, he sees Troye. He has his strawberry milk and a clean-cut sandwich. Jacob also notices his nails are painted a light, bubble-gum pink, and he can't help but to smile a little as he walks out the cafeteria doors.)
They agree to meet at Jacob's apartment the following week to start the project. Jacob cleans his room frantically, clearing away the mess piled up by his window so they can set up their telescopes. He picks up his dirty clothes, and stuffs all his shoes under his bed, and dumps the dirty dishes that are lying around into the dishwasher. He sneaks into Caspar's bathroom and steals one of his fancy colognes to spray around his room so it doesn't smell so much like grease and masturbation.
And honestly, he doesn't even know why he's cleaning his room. Jacob doesn't even clean his room up for his dates- though he hasn't had any of those recently- and if anything, he just wants to get this over with.
"Dude, we've lived here over a year and I'm positive this is the first time I've seen you clean your room, what's going on?" Caspar's in the doorway, watching a distressed and pouty Jacob stuff clothes in his closet, "also, what is my cologne doing in here, that was expensive."
"Got someone coming over for a project tonight," he huffs out, flipping his fringe out of his face with a heavy breath, "and I don't want the first thing to hit them be the smell of endless nights of loneliness and masturbation."
"Wait, what?"
"Partner. Project. Tonight." Jacob rolls his eyes, slumping his shoulders as he looks around his room proudly. Not too shabby.
"Can't you go to their place?" Caspar asks, ignoring all of Jacob's sarcasm and his hard work.
"Why?" Jacob asks, his eyes squinted in suspicion.
Caspar flushes, kicking a shirt to Jacob. "I'm having someone over tonight and I was coming in here to ask if you would hang with Tyler or something, because like, yeah."
"Wait, you're having someone over?" Jacob asks, astonished. He crosses his arms over his chest with a smug smile.
"Um, yeah?" Caspar says.
"Well, who is she?" Jacob asks, picking himself up from the ground.
Caspar mumbles under his breath, not meeting Jacob's eyes.
"Come on, mate. You know I won't care."
"It's not- It's not a girl."
"Oh." Jacob raises his eyebrows
"Yeah, like. I don't know. It's the first guy I've ever had feelings for and, yeah." Caspar blushes whilst rubbing the back of his neck.
Jacob doesn't want to embarrass Caspar, at least not yet. So he cocks his head, and gently asks: "Well, that's fine. Who's the special boy?"
"Joe," he says, laughing awkwardly.
"No fucking way." Jacob whispers. He smirks and bites at the inside of his cheek.
Caspar's cheeks turn an even brighter red than before. He smiles though, and watches Jacob stuff another shirt into his closet. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Caspar, the only thing that bothers me is that you didn't tell me you liked Joe, because I could have so made this happen faster," Jacob smirks, "other than that, I could care less. Just know, me and Tyler are going to be giving you two so much shit."
