-rainbow cookie, tracob

14,

-

The fact that Jacob went an entire week without letting onto the fact that he was in mental and emotional turmoil was pretty strong evidence that he never should have stopped doing theatre. It was remarkable, really. Ever since he'd picked himself up off the bathroom floor he'd done nothing but ponder what was going on in his own head, and the fact that Troye was blissfully ignorant was a minor miracle.

He continued on as usual, with Troye chattering about this and that (and a lot of times, both 'this' and 'that' involved his new friend). The younger boy was pleased to have such a budding social life, and Jacob- though it pained him to admit it- was miserable hearing about it.

The worst bit was that the whole thing made zero sense. Even if he had feelings for Troye- which he didn't- there was no reason for him to be so jealous over Connor. The man really was sort of perfect. He was gentle and kind and sensitive, always genuine and open with everyone he came across. He had a nice sense of humor and could have Troye in stitches, but at other times was just quiet and calm. And his photography... well, Jacob knew photography, and the man was definitely destined for greatness. His camera-work was almost as strong as his punch lines (apparently), which were almost as strong as his flawless writing (apparently).

Basically, Connor Franta was probably exactly what Troye needed and as close to what he deserved as humanity would ever get.

(Jacob still had to grit his teeth whenever the name came up.)

So he settles instead for trying desperately to distract Troye whenever possible, by whatever means possible. Ridiculous topics, harebrained schemes, off-the-wall anecdotes... Jacob was on a mission to glean some modicum of Troye's attention and it was really working.

"So then the guy leaves the bed because he forgot to call his mom, right? A grown man. Not because she didn't know where he was or anything, but because he just always calls his mum at that time," Jacob said animatedly, deep into a retelling of his most awkward romantic encounter- always a crowd-pleaser.

"Even though you were already in bed?"

"Yup. And then he comes back like nothing happened, and I'm absolutely not in the mood anymore. No matter what he does, I just cannot get it up because he'd just phoned his mom, you know?"

"That's really weird," Troye agreed, looking more than a little put off himself.

"I was totally freaked. Finally I just pushed him off and was like, 'no thanks, man,' and walked out." Jacob laughed to himself at the memory of the guy's face. He was an adventurous guy, but when moms were involved he drew a very clear line.

Troye had been listening with amusement tinged with the blush of someone unused to talking about sexual exploits, but now his smile was fading into a more serious expression. "Can I ask you a question?" he said quietly when he noticed Jacob watching.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?

"You can't laugh."

That was an easy enough promise; Troye looked sick and that was no laughing matter. "Of course I won't. What's wrong, T?"

"Well, it's just- I was just wondering. Um. How did you know that you didn't want it?"

Jacob replies with all of the lightness he can muster in the face of an absurdly heavy question like that. "Well I was soft as I've ever been and I would have much rather been at home watching football than touching him, so those were pretty clear signs."

"But what if you just didn't know you wanted him?"

"Wh-What are you talking about?"

"Well, like, sometimes you feel like you don't want sex, but actually you do. And like, you just don't know it."