For Him (Tracob)

Jacob's pov

It's 4am when we arrive in London. Another hour to get off the plane and move through security. Troye is cranky and tired and since I didn't sleep on the plane, I'm pretty much just as tired as he is. We meet up with Troye's assigned bodyguard for the week, a man who introduces himself as David Hendrix. I give him the once over. He's surprisingly pretty for such a tall, muscular man. Some guys are cursed with one of those boulder faces, but not him. I find myself to be irrationally jealous as Troye begins speaking to him, going over the schedule and itinerary for the week, what hotel we'll be at. Neither of them are being overly friendly, they're only discussing the plan and events, it's just the fact that as soon as we met up with David here, Troye ditched the grumpy, slouchy attitude, straightened up his posture and began speaking politely and concisely like the adult he is. I know he has an image to maintain and everything, but I want him to talk to me. Not some weirdly hot bodyguard. The drive to the hotel is short. We check in, and David tells us he'll be staying just down the hall, and to make sure and notify is before we go anywhere. Honestly, sometimes I prefer the days when Troye didn't have quite the status he has now. Security was rather less restrictive. We head into the room and throw our bags down on the bed. It's a wide, spacious room with a little balcony overlooking the city of London, but I note that the bed is smaller than usual - a queen, or maybe just a full. I bet Troye will be a joy to sleep with in that.

He falls face first into the bed, kicking off his shoes. "I'm going to sleep," he mumbles.

"You have a meeting at 8" I remind him. "It's almost 6am."

"Thank you for reminding me, I had nO idea. Goodnight."

I resist the urge to tell him it's morning, because really I don't have to be that much of a smart aleck all of the time. He falls asleep eagle spread on top of the blankets in about 5 minutes. He's positioned just right over the middle, so that I can't lay comfortably on either side of him. Any other day I would have woken him up enough to nudge him over or just layed on top of him, but this time, I sigh and claim the chair and fall asleep bent awkwardly on that.

When I wake up, it's 9:45, and Troye is long gone. I mean I knew he was leaving but the fact that he just left without a word bothers me. I know I was asleep, but he could have left a note or something.

I pull out my phone and shoot him a text dripping with sarcasm.

Thanks for telling me when you left and letting me know you arrived safely.

He replies almost immediately, his little icon in my phone popping up.

Tro: I'm with my bodyguard stop being so dramatic and stressed about everything.

Your bodyguard gets payed to care about you, Troye. I care about you cause I'm your husband. Remember that.

He doesn't reply, which means he either got busy, or he's ignoring me. He gets back to the hotel accompanied by David around 2pm, still exhausted, jet lagged and ready for bed. I attempt to talk to him several times but he shuts me down every time, so I give up, trying to find things to do to keep me from going to sleep already, but being stuck in a hotel with Troye giving me the cold shoulder, there's not much to do, so I give up and I'm in bed by 8pm, which is 4am LA time. Troye sleeps curled up under a quilt, away from me. I want to pull him close and hug him so bad but I don't. I shut my eyes and go to sleep instead. In the morning, we rise early again, so Troye can go film a piece for a talk show, escorted by David of course. He and Troye make friendly conversation on the way there, which I don't participate in, despite David's attempts to include me. The shooting takes a long time, but since I'm just sitting backstage getting handed plates of free food, I don't really mind. I'm glad when it finally wraps up though, and Troye and I leave the building lead by David, our bodyguard and chauffeur. I walk side by side with Troye as we make our way to the parking garage several blocks away. It's chilly, and as we walk, I see Troye shivering against the breeze.