-rainbow cookie, tracob

3,

-

By the time Saturday rolls around, and the concert, Troye and Jacob text almost constantly. Troye's one of those really good texters, always replying within minutes and giving advance warning if he has to stop replying in the middle of a conversation to do something else for a while. Jacob loves that because he's the same way; sometimes he forgets that not everyone lives off of their phone and gets confused when he has to wait hours for a text back.

Together, though, they make a good pair. It makes sense when Jacob looks at the way Troye is about his phone when they're together- it buzzes and he snatches it right up to reply. Maybe that would bother someone else, but not Jacob. He just smiles and nods when Troye explains that it's Thomas texting him to come over later or asking him where he is. They're the important things, if Troye's face is anything to go off of.

But apparently it isn't just Thomas, because he's equally attentive to Jacob. They text even more than usual in the hours leading up to the concert, because Troye's so excited he can hardly breathe and Jacob can't help but be charmed by it.

(Troye, 4:41 PM) What should I wear?

(Jacob, 4:42 PM) Dunno, what does one wear to an indie rock concert?

(Troye, 4:43 PM) I was hoping you'd know. :( I don't want to look like an idiot...

(Jacob, 4:44 PM) T, I reaaaally don't think it matters that much what you wear. People are there to see the band, not you, right? :)

(Troye, 4:45 PM) Well. Yeah. But.

(Jacob, 4:46 PM) Just don't wear anything too mainstream and you'll be alright, yeah?

(Jacob, 4:46 PM) And by that, I mean wear whatever you want to wear. Your favorite outfit. You're going to go see a band that you like, so it makes sense to wear clothes that you like!

(Troye, 4:47 PM) That makes sense :)

(Jacob, 4:48 PM) Of course it does, I said it ;)

They agree that Jacob will pick Troye up at his flat at 6, so they can make sure to be at the venue early enough to get a spot near the front. The closer it gets to 6, the more exclamation points Troye tacks on to the end of every sentence until finally it's time and Jacob is parking the car and bounding up the stairs.

The smile Troye was wearing when he opened the door could have dazzled a satellite right out of the sky. "Hey, Jacob," he said breathlessly.

But Jacob was too busy looking at the other things Troye was wearing. Gone were the baggy, faded jeans and worn out tee shirts that he usually had on. Instead, he wore a black leather jacket over a sheer button-down shirt that was only half buttoned up. His nails were painted black and that only emphasised how elegant and pretty his hands were in the first place. He was also wore ginormous platform shoes that made him -almost- Jacob's height.

And then there was the matter of his jeans. They were black, dark enough still that they had to be brand new, and they were tight enough that Jacob had to make sure it wasn't body paint that Troye was wearing. It was easy now to see that he had long, thin legs with tiny, shapely thighs and toned calves that you never would have noticed when they were swimming in acid-wash denim three sizes too big.

"Just let me grab my keys really quick, sorry," Troye said, turning to lean across the kitchen table to grab them and his phone.

"Absolutely," Jacob managed to reply when Troye had already been facing him again for a good fifteen seconds, and it was not because he'd been distracted thinking about Troye's ass in those microscopic jeans. That would be inappropriate, because Troye had a boyfriend. So Jacob wasn't. At all. No way.