a/n: someone pretty pls tell me we've got some years & years fans up in here (i stg, marry me) oh ya & enjoy lmao, this chapter is shit but that's alright
Jacob's pov
The pretty pale boy beneath me sleeps peacefully while my mind goes bananas. Questions and assumptions, worry and want, but mostly a need.
I need a damn cigarette.
It's terribly selfish of me, but I had to. I snuck away from Troye's hold and out of his room, his flat, and down a few blocks to make sure I was alone. Stumbling upon a convenience store, I anxiously walk in and get my pack of fags, handing the cashier the little to no money I've got.
I find my way down to a pub and walk in, nervous yet relieved to finally be somewhere to smoke in peace. Troye strictly told me not to smoke in front of him, he didn't like seeing me "tear apart" the body he almost saw die. He's sweet, he is, but that's blown out of proportion. It would be different if I were dying of cancer. I'm just enjoying a smoke.
Finding a spot at the bar, I pull a cigarette out of the pack and swipe a lighter off of the bartender's counter. He won't mind. I hold the filter to my lips and flick the lighter. The flame lights up the vicinity around me and burns the tobacco to a crisp until it flakes to ash. I set the lighter back down on the counter and take a drag of the cig, fluttering my eyes shut as I inhale and exhale, sighing out peacefully.
"Smoking kills, Jacob."
I hear murmured from the spot next to me. I snap my head to the left to see Shaun drunk as a slug.
"Shaun, what are you doing here? It's five in the morning." I groan, flicking ash into the tray on the counter.
He gives me a bored look, "What are you doing here, Jacob? It's five in the morning."
I shrink back on the bar stool a tad and frown.
"Troye doesn't like seeing me smoke."
"Troye doesn't like seeing me drink." He retorts.
Coming to an understanding, I nod and take another drag of my cigarette.
"I didn't know you drink," I mutter, staring up at the muffled telly at the side of the bar.
"I don't." He sighs, "Only when I need to."
I tilt my head back down to meet his eyes with a deep frown.
"Why do you need to?"
"My wife just died and my boy is too depressed, stuck in his room, to realise the beauty that's waiting out for him."
I puff out a cloud of smoke, holding back a laugh.
"You're a hypocrite, Mellet."
Shaun frowns and tilts his head to the side, "How?"
"You're doing the same thing. You're hiding yourself in this silly bar to try and forget about your sorrows. You should be asleep or out busting douchebag criminals like myself." I pause, "...And by the way, I got him out yesterday. We went out on what I think may have been a date."
He raises his brows and gives me an amused look.
"Date, eh?" He speculates, easily changing the subject from himself.
"Possibly," I whisper, flicking the ash and taking a few more drags, tossing it in the tray.
I lean against the bar and set my elbow on it, holding my head up to look at Shaun.
"It's about time." He mutters.
It's now my turn to give him a questionable look.
"Don't give me that look, we both know you two have been gushing over each other since you two met. This was bound to happen." He explains, pushing the ashtray away from us and down the counter.
A subtle way of asking me not to slip another cigarette between my lips in front of him. Fair enough.
"I guess you're right." I sigh and let out a small yawn, shaking it off.
"C'mon, let's go home. There's no need to stay out when we've got our boy at home, right?" He questions, getting up from the bar stool and retrieving his coat from the coat hanger at the door.
"Nah, let's go." I agree, wiping the loose ash off of my jeans off and following Shaun out the door into the cold.
We shiver our little butts home, the weather being a little bite back at us for sneaking out at such a late hour. When we get to the flat, we walk in to find a disappointed Troye waiting for us on the couch.
"You're both unbelievable." He mutters, keeping his eyes down on the blanket he's knitting. I didn't even know the boy knitted...
We both shamefully apologise, Shaun heading back to bed while I sit down on the couch next to the upset boy.
"Don't expect any more kisses until that mouth is free of nicotine, alright?" Troye says quietly while stretching his feet out and adjusting the blanket on his lap.
"Alright," I whisper, going and brushing my teeth quickly.
In no time, I head back to see Troye staring at me with a daring look.
"And just because I've really got you under my spell, you must wait until tomorrow to try and charm your way into a kiss, mister. Boys who sneak out of bed to smoke don't get kisses goodnight." He states, pointing a finger up in the air.
"No fair," I pout.
Out of nowhere, Shaun opens his door and mutters "Whipped!"
"Sod off, Shaun." I yell, chuckling and laying down next to Troye.
"Are we sleeping out here?" I ask, pulling a blanket off of the side of the sofa and covering myself up.
Troye shakes his head no, "You are."
I groan out miserably.
"That's just mean, Troye." I fuss, giving him some pathetic puppy eyes he dismisses quicker than you can say 'nah man i don't really care'.
"So is leaving me alone to wonder where you are then find you coming home with my wasted father." He responds with a splash of sass, making me wonder if this is how he used to be.
"I'm sorry, T. I'll think about twice next time."
He nods, "I don't want there to be a next time. Your pack, please."
Troye holds a hand out.
I sigh and fish out my pack of fags, setting them in his hand.
"Thank you for cooperating, Bix, and for that... I guess you can cuddle." He says in an over dramatic tone. I crack a smile at his words.
"Don't lie, we both know you'd miss me too much." I tease, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting my head on his tummy.
"That's a possibility... good thing we don't have to worry about that." He smiles and falls down onto my touch, shimmying down the couch and into my hold.
Plot twist: we slept on the couch that night.
