"This you?" Jacob murmurs, thumb softly rubbing at the frame of the photo. Troye's hand is tucked into Jacob's, so clingy, so loving, and so happy. Jacob wants this forever.
"Don't make fun of it," Troye says shyly, "It's me and my funky socks."
Jacob hearts doubles in his chest, eyes crinkling at the photo. Troye, little overall shorts like he was telling him about. They're red, a white shirt beneath them, his sleeves cuffed below his shoulders. His grin is splitting his face, big dimples and even bigger eyes. His curls are awkward and wavy, short on his tilted back head. His thighs are milky and white, knees scrapped and so boy, beneath them, a long pair of striped socks. Darker blue with light blue stripes, and a pair of tan boots on his little feet. In his hand, hanging down his side, the stuffed bunny Troye told him about. He's perfect. Young, and beautiful, and clean. He's happy. Genuinely happy. The only damage he has are skinned knees and elbows and no one has tried spreading his thighs with intentions of taking pieces of him away without permission. He's whole.
"You're so adorable," he says. His voice is light and lilted, fondness wrapping his tummy.
Troye smiles, eyebrows furrowing in a mixture of emotions.
Before he can say anything, Jacob speaks, "do you have a copy of this photo, one I can have?"
Troye's smile only grows, his eyebrows smoothing out, "you like it that much?"
"I love it," he murmurs softly, just for Troye's ears, "I love you."
Troye makes a noise, a little squeak from his throat, and leans down to press his lips to Jacob's, firm and perfect and there.
"You can have that one," he murmurs against his lips, pecking softly, "my mum has extras somewhere, you get that one."
Jacob smiles, pressing his lips harder against his boy's, smiling pecks and nibbles and kisses. Troye licks his bottom lip, opening his mouth, and Jacob giggles, pulling away.
"Troye Mellet," he says, "are you trying to slip me tongue in your mother's house."
Troye whines, "Jake," he murmurs, leaning in and kissing his lips again, "she's busy, kiss me,"
Jacob giggles, clutching the photo to his chest, and pulling away from Troye, "not here," he murmurs, placing a soft, lingering kiss to Troye's lips, "not in the hallway."
Troye grabs Jacob's wrist, tugging on it gently.
"Troye," Jacob laughs, "let me finish looking."
"Jacob," Troye groans.
Jacob rolls his eyes, looking at the photos on the wall, "If you think I'm blowing you in your mother's house you are so wrong."
"Wha-"
"Who's this cutie?" Jacob smirks, pointing to a photo, "he looks kinda grumpy."
Troye pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm shocked, you love baths now," Jacob says, looking at the grumpy little Troye with soap suds rubbed through his curls. His arms are crossed and bottom lip pushed out, same face in the picture that he has now.
"You're ridiculous," Jacob mutters finally, "now show me to your old bedroom. I'm in dire need to see how my adolescent boyfriend's room was."
Troye agrees to that, tangling his fingers with Jacob's and dragging him down the hall. The wooden door is blank, and Troye opens it and drags Jacob in, shutting the door behind him. He quickly shoves Jacob against the wall, kisses him hard, teeth clacking, and lips bruising. Jacob snorts, wraps his arms around Troye's waist and gives in, lets the boy kiss him rough and wet, not stopping until they're both breathless.
