"Troye!" Jacob shrieks, and Troye hears him bursting through the front door.
The dog looks up at him from from the ground. Her tail thumps the floor in excitement but they adopted her when she was already past her prime so at this point she doesn't have much 'get excited when someone comes to the door' left in her. Troye has no idea why Jacob chose the old, fat french bulldog when there were plenty of puppies at the shelter, but something about her dopey expression as she pants happily up at him reminds Troye of the idiot who picked her.
Troye is rinsing the toothpaste out of his mouth just as he hears Jacob's heavy footsteps thumping up the stairs. Jacob comes bursting into the room with a huge grin on his face and a stack of magazines in his arms. Troye pokes his head around the doorframe of the en suite bathroom and raises an eyebrow at him.
"Babe what are you hollering about?" he asks.
"The magazine came out today! Did you forget?" Jacob asks jerkily holding out the multiple copies he's currently in possession of.
Troye smirks, "no, I didn't forget. Why are you freaking out? I already told you everything the interview said," he says.
He goes to Jacob and stands on his tiptoes, Jacob still has to turn his chin down to give him a kiss though, because he didn't stop growing until he was twenty-one and six-foot-three. Jacob swats his ass as he passes to get to their dresser for a pair of pyjama pants.
"I'm freaking out because you've just been named Designer of the Year by fucking Vogue Troye!" Jacob exclaims, stooping to give the dog her customary belly rub, "and there's a difference between you telling me what questions they asked and seeing your answers typed out on a three page spread!"
Troye crawls up onto the bed and bends over to help he dog up onto it as well. Jacob plunks down on the mattress and fans the pile of magazines across their bed spread, like he's trying to choose which of the identical copies he wants to read.
"Why did you buy so many copies?" Troye asks, fondness seeping into his tone.
"If you think I'm not going to be handing these out to everyone I know, you don't know me as well as I thought you did," Jacob grins.
"Don't be ridiculous, Jacob," Troye scoffs.
"I'm serious! And I was talking to Mum on the way home and she's bought like twice as many to show to all her friends!"
"Jacob," Troye groans, throwing an arm over his face to hide his blush.
Jacob doesn't reply, and Troye peeks past his arm to see what he's doing. He's got one of the magazines open as he lays on his stomach next to Troye, and he's smiling beatifically down at the page. Jacob looks up and meets Troye's eyes when he shifts onto his side. Troye squeaks when Jacob surges forward and kisses him deeply.
"Can I read it to you?" Jacob asks.
Troye rolls his eyes, "you'd do it whether I agreed or not," he says.
Jacob just grins, and begins, "Troye Sivan first stepped into the industry two years ago via a purchased time slot on one of the catwalks at London Fashion week. The hour he had to show his collection was enough to have interns running to their publicists, and assistants running to their celebrities, and dragging them over to catch the tail end of his show. He got his big break when a dress that he designed was chosen by none other than Emma Watson to wear on the red carpet, the night she accepted her Oscar. Since then he has become a household name; dressing the most noted male and female celebrities of our generation, not just on the red carpet but in casual wear as well," Jacob is barely containing his glee as he reads, and it's enough to make Troye' heart race with excitement too.
