The Rook and the Raven (Jacob Frye x Male OC)

Part 10

"Come on Moore! Wake up!" Jacob threw balled up piece of paper at him as he walked past. Dorian groaned, drawing the blanket further over his head.
"Can't Evie go out and throw the stick a few times for you?"
"No, she said your turn." Jacob teased, running his fingers through his hair as he inspected himself in the mirror. Dorian closed his eyes and began drifting back off to sleep, until he felt a weight being placed on his head, sharp talons piercing through the blankets.
"Hello. Frye."
"Piss off Oliver, I'm not a Frye." he groaned, shaking his head to remove the raven. From under the heavy blankets, Dorians face emerged for a breath of fresh air, where he found Jacob crouched down, holding a cigarette out for him.
"Ah, you found my only weakness." He replied lazily, taking the cigarette off Jacob, who had that smug grin spread across his face.
"It's not you're only weakness, trust me I know." Jacob winked, striking a match and holding it to the cigarette, moving out the way as a puff of smoke was directed at his face. He left Dorian too it and reached for the whiskey under his couch, drinking it like water as he waited for the dragon under the blankets to get moving. Once Dorian emerged from his nest and finally got dressed, stealing a jumper off Jacob for extra warmth under his heavy coat, they climbed off the stationary train at Charing Cross.
"So where did you want to take me Jacob?" Asked Dorian, his breath coming out in white clouds.
"Trafalgar Square, some of my rooks told me about the winter fair going on there."
"You just want a pint of mum, don't you?"
"And a hot pasty, my mind isn't always on booze Dorian." Jacob replied, pretending to be offended. In the distance they could hear the barrel organs playing and people laughing, having a good time. Of course, the first thing Jacob dragged him towards was a tent serving hot alcohol. They stood sipping their warm drinks and watching couples dancing to the band that was playing, from high class ladies and gentlemen, to the green coated rooks, it was as though the classes didn't exist. Moving along, a Punch and Judy show was on, the street urchins crowding around and squealing with laughter. Oliver made a fuss from Dorians shoulder, wanting to watch the show, and so for the sake of Dorians skin, they were forced to watch the ridiculous show, the raven dancing between their shoulders and making awful sounds of what they assumed was laughter.
"That's the-" he began to screech, but Dorian closed his fingers around his beak, with a heavy sigh. All the children turned round to giggle at the talking raven, and when the show was over, the men couldn't even move from the children swarming around their ankles, asking to stroke the raven.
"Sir? Is he friendly?"
"Think I saw one of those when I was freed from the factory."
"Is he from the tower?"
"Can I stroke him?"
Questions were coming from everywhere, and eventually, Dorian handed a Jacob his drink, tapping his arm to move the raven down.
"Now be on your best behaviour." He told the raven sternly, holding a finger up. "You little sod." He added under his breath. As he crouched down, the children took a step back nervously. "It's okay, his name is Oliver." He explained softly. "He had an accident a month ago but he's getting better." One child took a step forward and reached out a tentative hand, aiming to stroke the bird. As his tiny fingers grew closer, Oliver's hand twitched and turned to look at him, to which he drew back. Dorian began to stroke the feathers gently, showing the children he was nothing to be afraid of. The child reached out his hand again and finally brushed his fingers against the smooth feathers, smiling as he did so. The rest of the children came up to say hello shortly afterwards, giggling as the raven talked back to them.
"Right, I think it's best we get going." He finally said, feeling as though his knees would be stuck in the same position forever if he stayed like that any longer. The children waved goodbye and Oliver croaked back to them, now happily sat on his masters shoulder as Dorian took his now lukewarm drink off Jacob.
"That's probably the nicest thing I've seen you do." Jacob chuckled as the walked. "Guess you're not as cold hearted as I thought."
"Oi" Dorian kicked the other mans ankle as the walked, "Those kids probably haven't seen an animal that isn't a rat or horse that close before." Dorian went to take a sip of his drink and noticed that a significant amount had disappeared since handing it to Jacob. He frowned at the other man, who stayed completely oblivious. "Care to explain this?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing to the drink.
"Hm? What's wrong with it?" He leaned towards Dorian, peering into the cup. "Looks fine to me."
"Jacob."
"I didn't touch it, I swear." He insisted, that playful smirk crawling across his lips. Dorian rolled his eyes as they kept walking. As the sky turned dark and the snow sprinkling down began to get heavier, everyone started to pack up and go home, Jacob grabbed the last two Cornish pasties as they made their way back to the train.
"You got any other plans for tonight?" Jacob asked through a mouthful of food, pieces of pastry stuck in his facial hair.
"Checking on the people of Whitechapel." Dorian replied, picking the crumbs off Jacobs face.
"Don't be daft, Whitechapel is safe. It was the first thing me and Evie did when we got here, the rooks will-"
"I mean if someone isn't sheltered from this weather." Dorian replied simply as they entered their shared compartment, the raven jumping down to the floor.
"Dorian, you'll freeze."
"And so will many others if no one helps." He added a smaller jacket under his larger coat, preparing himself for the night. He grabbed a bag with some spare blankets inside and head for the door again. "I'll be back in one piece as soon as I'm done, I promise." He said softly, hand on the door handle.
"Alright." Jacob huffed flopping on the couch. "Guess I'll be waiting here. All alone. No one to talk to."
"Stop being dramatic." And with that, Dorian left, climbing into a carriage as soon as he stepped out the station to take him to Whitechapel.