#// i love that she’s closer to figuring out his relationship with marcelo!

[garbagevanfleet]

Learn To Leave A Room (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Jake & female!Reader Warnings: general sexiness, but nothing too risque yet Summary: Balancing relationships is hard work - God forbid someone throw a wrench into it. Notes:  This whole fic is long af because I have a lot to say about Jake Kiszka, but each chapter will be digestible in size. Bless @lantern-inthenight for beta-ing the first chapter for me. ;__;  We are all taking my descent into being a Jake Girl as best as we can. 

“I am not ashamed, the story goes. I swear I will learn to leave a room without touching every part of your face.” — Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, “How to Grow the Brightest Geranium,” published in Breakwater Review   

You are many things. You’re a good daughter, a loyal friend, and a mother to four houseplants. You are not, however, a morning person, which is why being ripped away from your warm bed at 6 am is less than ideal. You’ve never been able to say no to Lucy though (not that she’d give you any choice), which is why you’re sitting across from her in her favorite diner as the sun rises outside. 

Lucy has been your best friend since middle school, through thick and thin, and you love her to death. She can find the right words in any situation, and she always manages to look beautiful, even at this ungodly hour. 

Her curls are always soft and shiny and at first, you think she might be glowing but the closer you look, the more convinced you become that she’s wearing highlighter. You frown. You could barely manage to throw your hair up in a bun this morning, let alone think about makeup- 

“Hey, hello?” Lucy is leaning in, grinning expectantly. “Are you listening to me?” 

You shake your head apologetically. “Sorry, Lu. I’m still waking up.” 

“Want some more coffee?” she asks, but she doesn’t wait for your reply before waving the waitress over. You think most people couldn’t get away with something like that, but she’s so sweet and soft-spoken that everyone melts - even the busy waitress. Lucy kindly asks for a refill for you both so you take that moment to finish the rest of your cup. You’re not sure whether to be grateful or a bit embarrassed when the waitress takes a look at you and then decides to just leave the carafe.  

“Also, is now an okay time to tell you Josh is joining us in a couple of minutes?” Lucy asks sheepishly, cutting you off from your thoughts again. 

“I had expected nothing less,” you say, giving her an assuring smile, though it’s not entirely true. You’re not upset at all, it’s just that you can remember a time when it was just you and Lucy against the world. You used to eat lunch together every day and study every night in high school. When she met Josh, it had somehow seamlessly started to become Lucy, Josh, and you. Third Wheeling. 

Josh is impossible to dislike, you think, no matter how badly you wish you could. He’s simply too charming and handsome, despite being a bit too loud and a lot less funny than he thinks he is. 

“You can invite your guy,” Lucy suggests excitedly. You shake your head instantly, huffing a nervous laugh. 

“No way. It’s too new,” you explain, fiddling with the handle of your mug aimlessly. “It would be awkward.” 

You’re not facing the door, but you can tell the exact second that Josh steps through it, both because the little bell rings, and because Lucy’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. You lovingly shake your head and take a sip of the fresh coffee. 

“Oh, he brought Jake,” she says offhandedly. Your heart skips a beat, and despite telling yourself not to, you turn your head to look. Josh is oddly put together for this hour as well, and you silently wonder if he and Lucy are turning into the same person. You hear that can happen when you’ve been dating long enough. 

When your eyes catch on Jake behind him, you snap your head back around and groan under your breath. 

You had not been prepared to see Josh this morning. You had not even been well prepared to see Lucy this morning. You were absolutely not prepared for Jake. 

It’s not like you don't see him often enough. Lucy drags you along to the Kiszka house nearly every time you hang out, and you can’t say you really mind. Their house is always warm and cozy. It’s just that...

You shoot a glare at her, but she just laughs and shrugs her petite shoulders.

“I swear to god, I thought he was coming alone,” she assures. 

You’d never tell Lucy, but you’ve always thought Jake was the more attractive twin, even well before she had started dating Josh. He was just so effortlessly cool and collected in comparison. 

On a whim, you quickly stand and slide in next to Lucy, ignoring her questioning look. In a hushed tone, you turn your head to her and say, “If Josh sits next to you, then I have to sit with-” 

She cuts you off with a laugh and just as the boys reach your booth, she subtly reaches over and locks her fingers with yours under the table. The little squeeze she gives lets you know she understands.

“Hi, babe,” she greets, pulling her hand from yours. She leans across the table and strokes her fingers down Josh’s cheek. “Good morning.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper in slight disgust as Josh turns his face to place a kiss against Lucy’s palm, but they either don’t hear you or don’t care. You pull your cup of coffee up to your face to try and hide the unavoidable eye roll that follows PDA of that level. Over the rim of your mug, you catch Jake smirking across at you, seemingly reading your mind. He’s got his arms folded over his chest, instantly looking relaxed into the vinyl seat. 

“Jake,” you say in way of greeting, as you push the warm carafe across the table towards the boys. “Coffee?”

Josh is far too busy talking to Lucy to hear you. Well, that’s actually not quite right, you think. More like talking at Lucy, at the speed of a mile a minute. Lucy certainly doesn’t look like she’s suffering for it though - she’s got her elbows on the countertop, her chin resting in her delicate hands. She seems to be lapping it up, eyes a little dreamy. 

Jake seems to be even better at ignoring them than you are. You try not to stare at his fingers as he reaches forward and turns the unused mug in front of him right-side-up, but if your eyes linger, you can’t be blamed.  

The four of you fill the morning with small talk, consuming more coffee than you think could possibly be healthy. The diner only gets busier and the smell of warm maple syrup and bacon makes your stomach growl. 

When the sun rises completely, it shines in through the windows and warms your face pleasantly. It casts a comfortable, golden light across your table, and you don’t realize that you’re staring at the way it hits Jake’s face until he raises his eyebrows at you. 

You’ve tuned out completely again - who knows for how long this time, so you try not to look startled when Lucy takes your hand to get your attention. 

“Doesn’t that sound fun?” she prompts expectantly. You nod at her, although you’re sure she knows that you have no idea what she’s been saying. 

“A party sounds fun, right?” she reiterates sweetly. 

“Oh, yeah. Parties are always fun,” you agree. You go to take a sip of your coffee, but find that it’s gone cold. “When?”

Josh huffs a laugh at you, presumably because all of this has already been said. “Tonight. Our place.”

You smile sheepishly back at him. “Sorry, I’m really not used to existing outside of my bed at this hour.”

“You can invite your boyfriend,” Lucy suggests excitedly, causing the smile to drop right from your lips.

“Boyfriend?” Jake quips, eyebrows raised at you. You try not to look like a deer in the headlights. 

“You never mentioned that you have a boyfriend.” The tone of Josh’s voice is a little too coy for your liking. 

You can feel your face starting to warm, and you furiously try to will the blush from setting in. “It’s really recent. And it’s way too short notice to invite him for tonight.” You direct the last part at Lucy, trying to convey how much you don’t want to have to introduce your new man to your friends yet.

But Josh smells blood (or in this case, intense dread) in the water, and he’s on it like a shark. “We can move it to Friday night then.”

“Oh, no,” you quickly object. You wish you could figure out why your stomach is in such tight knots, but you’re drawing blanks. “Don’t reschedule on my account.”

No sooner are the words out of your mouth before he’s cutting in again, his lips turned up into a wicked-looking smile. “We insist. No trouble at all.” 

You know you must look like a cornered animal, because Lucy presses her shoulder against yours, and in the most comforting voice possible says, “Hey, it’ll be fun. I’ve been looking forward to getting to know him better anyway.” 

Neither of them gives you a chance to think of a reply before they continue on about the party. You think they’re talking about what kind of alcohol to get, but you’re already considering what disease you’re going to say you’ve contracted. You think there’s no way they’d let you attend a party if you had - say - leprosy. 

When you glance up, Jake is already looking at you from across the table. He’s wearing that smirk again, but this time it’s smaller, more subtle. You can’t tell if he’s just mirroring his brother’s energy, or if he can tell how badly you want to throttle Josh and he thinks it’s amusing. You hold his eyes for a beat longer than you should, but you manage to rip them away as Josh puts a twenty on the table. 

“Coffee’s on me this morning, ladies,” Josh says, but there’s not a single hit of devious energy in the smile he gives you and Lucy now. 

You scowl at him and huff annoyedly. “As long as you’re handing it out, I’m suing for emotional distress.”

You wish you could prevent it, but the way Josh tips his head back and laughs makes you crack a smile.

+++

You put it off for the next couple of days. You don’t want to think about the impending party, and you don’t want to think about your boyfriend. Picking up a couple of extra shifts at the cafe keeps it all out of your head, for the most part. You tell yourself it’s because you’re too busy - you’ve got lots of things to do. But secretly, although you would never admit it to anyone, you were hoping that if you waited until the very last second to invite him, he wouldn’t be able to come. His name is Mitch. You’ve only been seeing him for a month or so, and you had never made a conscious decision to move from “talking” to “going out” to “boyfriend”. It just kind of happened, the same way the seasons slip by without your permission.

He was just a fun guy that you met at work. He ordered a black coffee, and even though he had seemed like he was in a hurry when he walked in, he sat down at the counter and sipped on it as he talked to you. You had done next to nothing for him but pour him a cup, but when he left, there was a ten and a napkin with his number scrawled across it under his empty cup. 

He wasn’t particularly kind or handsome, but you gave him a chance - had a drink with him once and things just went from there. He never gave you any reason to stop seeing him, so you didn’t. One date had turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it, he was sending you emoji hearts and dick pics that weren’t unpleasant. 

It’s Friday morning, and you’re sitting on the edge of Lucy’s bed. Your feet are stuffed into a warm pair of slippers as they dangle just above the floor and you’ve been watching her go through her closet for at least half an hour. She keeps pulling out skirts, holding them in front of her form and assessing them in the mirror, only to decide that she doesn’t like the top she’d attempted to pair it with. 

You run your hand over her blankets, still messed up from where you’d both slept last night. You hadn’t been intending to stay over, but you had a pair of pajamas and a toothbrush there for this specific purpose. 

She turns to you, a dress on a hanger in front of her body and she looks distressed. “What do you think of this one? Is it too much for a house party?”

You shrug. “Maybe, but you always look perfect in everything, so I don’t think anyone would notice. Can we get coffee?”

She waves you off. “In a minute,” she agrees, turning around to hang the dress back onto the rack. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“Not sure,” you admit, laying back and staring up at the ceiling. You don’t see her expression, but you’re positive that her pretty face is scrunched up in a frown. 

“You haven’t thought about it? Do you want to borrow something of mine?” She doesn’t give you enough time to agree before she adds, “Maybe you should see what Mitch is wearing so you don’t clash.”

You can’t help but suck in a sharp breath as your stomach sinks, and you see her head whip around out of the corner of your eye.

“You did invite him, right?” she blurts, but her tone suggests that she already knows the answer. 

You groan at her. “I completely forgot.” It’s not actually a lie, but you don’t add that you had been trying to forget.  

“Oh my god, you should right now!” 

You nod, staring at the little glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. It’s silent for a beat before she speaks again, this time a lot quieter like she’s trying not to say the wrong thing. 

“Unless. Are things not going well?”

You sit up, shaking your head. “No, everything is fine,” you assure, forcing your voice to remain level. “I’m not like. One hundred percent invested in it, but everything is just fine. I think I’m just nervous to introduce him to everyone.”

“I get it. I’m sure everything will go smoothly though,” she assures. “We’ll go easy on him.”

You are positive that she’s not speaking for Josh, but you thank her anyway. She turns and dips her hand into the closet. You can hear her moving hangers around for a second before she pulls out the shortest dress you’ve ever seen. “Now how slutty do you want to look?”

+++

You had texted Mitch while you were in the shower, waiting for your conditioner to set in. You thought you were going to get lucky because at first, he had said he had plans, but he quickly texted that he would absolutely blow them off to party with you. You tried to tell him not to - that it was totally cool - but he insisted, and that’s why you’re sitting next to him on the Kiszka family couch. Lucy is on your other side, leg pressed against yours, and Josh is sitting on the ottoman in front of the three of you. Lucy was right; things seem to be going fine so far. It’s somewhere around 11 pm, and you’ve even felt comfortable enough to get a little loose on whatever pink shit she keeps giving you. 

Josh is leaned in, chatting easily with Mitch about...some kind of sport? You wish you could hear better, but the music is too loud. You briefly think that maybe letting Sam DJ was a mistake. You’re pretty sure that the eclectic playlist is not in the same tastes as most of the other attendees, but you completely understand how Sam ended up in charge of it. He was far too pretty to say no to.  

Lucy is significantly more drunk than you are. You can tell because she has adopted a hazy look, and her body is entirely more relaxed than usual. She leans in, speaking loud enough you can hear her. 

“You wanna dance? I’m bored,” she asks and her pout forces a laugh out of you. 

“Maybe a bit later. I need to be drunker for that, I think,” you reply, giving her shoulder a nudge with yours. Lucy frowns back at you, but it isn’t seconds later that she’s physically dragging Josh into a standing position and onto the dancefloor. He tries to object, but it’s weak and half-hearted, and you guess it’s only for the benefit of not offending Mitch. He gives your boyfriend an apologetic smile before taking Lucy by the waist and you watch with a slight pang of envy as they start to sway, hips pressed together tightly.

The song changes to something not quite as abrasive, and you give a little sigh of relief. It’s just quiet enough that you finally feel like you can have an actual conversation, so you turn to ask Mitch if he’s having a good time, but he’s not paying you any attention. He must be more intoxicated than you thought because he’s so melted into the couch that his drink is threatening to spill out of his cup. You go to reach for it, trying to avoid staining the cream-colored fabric below. When you slip it easily out of his hand without any objection, you realize why - his eyes are glued to a girl across the room. She’s beautiful, scantily clad, and dancing so low that you’re truly impressed with how strong her legs must be. 

Mitch realizes that you’ve caught him only a beat later and he flashes you a cocky smile. 

You aren’t angry - maybe closer to annoyed. You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t let you make any kind of comment. In one swift, abrupt motion he pulls you over him until you’re straddling his lap, and the shocked yelp you let out is luckily lost in the music. You are suddenly immensely grateful that you didn’t let Lucy talk you into that sinfully short dress, because if you had, your whole ass would be showing in this position.  

His attempt at doubling down is obvious, but that doesn’t stop you from sharply demanding, “What are you doing?”

You may not have been that upset before, but you are now that you’re looking at his stupid face. He laughs at you, hands on your hips and leans in to press his nose against your neck. You hear him talking to you, lips directly against your skin, but you’re so embarrassed that everything sounds like static. 

You go to push off of him, but over his shoulder, you catch Jake leaning against the door frame into the kitchen. He was chatting with a group of people, but when he looks over and sees you, his body tenses. You instantly feel your face run hot when you meet his eyes because you’re acutely aware of what it must look like you’re doing. 

You’d seen him earlier when you first arrived, but you didn’t realize how good he looked until right now. His long hair is pushed back, letting you take in his whole face at once. The chiseled features are even more sharpened by a light sheen coming off of the string of fairy lights that Lucy had been intent on hanging. 

His outfit isn’t complicated, just a dark pair of jeans and a black leather jacket, but he’s making the ensemble look exactly as it was meant to be. 

 He’s giving you a look that you can’t place, but it’s somewhere between smug and shocked. Whatever it is, it’s intense enough that it makes your breath catch in your chest.

Mitch picks that moment to press a hot kiss against your throat, sucking the skin and causing your lips to fall open. You whine as you feel his teeth scraping your skin because it stings. Any evidence of a smirk has vanished from Jake’s face; his eyes flick away like he can’t watch anymore. He shoves off the doorway and disappears into the kitchen, leaving his friends to shrug and continue their conversation without him.

The second he’s not there any longer, you push away from Mitch with admittedly too much force. You stand, but your legs are wobbly, both from the alcohol and from the odd sitting position you’d just been in. You try to head toward the kitchen, but Mitch’s hand is suddenly around your wrist.

“Where are you going?” he asks, and you almost feel bad because he looks truly confused, and you think maybe he’s too drunk to really figure out just how he’s fucked up. But the thread of guilt quickly unravels as your fingers find your neck, pressing into a tender spot that you can only guess is going to be an unwanted love bite. 

You rip your hand away from him, giving him the meanest look you can muster.

“What am I supposed to do? I don’t know anyone here,” he objects, frowning back at you with a look of shock.  

“Then get lost,” you suggest coldly. The hurt puppy look on his face tells you that you should regret being so harsh, but you just don’t. You leave him there on the couch as you start weaving your way through people. Lucy is giving you a concerned look from across the room, probably having just seen the whole display, but you offer her an assuring smile back. You hope she doesn’t worry too much, but you really can’t focus on anything other than making your way through the house. 

The kitchen is crowded with giggling girls and the overwhelmingly sweet smell of perfume and alcohol but is noticeably missing the one person you’re looking for. The people around you seem to get less and less sober the closer you get to the end of the kitchen, and you think the spread of booze and mixers across the kitchen counter might be to blame. 

The only other way out of the kitchen is through the back door, which is naturally blocked by a whole crowd of people. You try to politely signal that you’re trying to get past, but when that fails, you decide you’re not above shoving your way through. Everyone is gawking at you as you pass like you’re disrupting them, and you guess you are, but you’re too determined to care now. You wonder if Jake had to elbow his way through too, but no - you’re one hundred percent positive that they parted easily for him.

The autumn air hits your face as you open the door, and the not unpleasant smell of tobacco smoke on the wind tells you that you’re not alone. Your stomach lurches. Jake is standing a couple of feet from you, a cigarette between his lips. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not the humored look painting his face. It’s silent for a moment too long before you realize you’d been so intent on finding him that you hadn’t even remotely thought about what you’d say when you did. Lamely, you land on, “There you are.”

He exhales a cloud of smoke through tight lips. “Here I am,” he agrees. His eyes flick down to your neck, and your hand instantly reaches up to cover the spot you’re positive he’s looking at. 

He breathes a laugh. 

“I’m sorry.” You’re not sure exactly what you’re apologizing for but your voice sounds more pained that you’d let it if you were sober. It feels like an eternity as he takes another drag, leaving you anxious. 

“That’s my family couch. We watch movies there,” he says, but his teasing tone puts you just slightly more at ease. He cracks a smile at you and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. “We eat meals on that thing.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t appreciate it either,” you assure. Without allowing yourself to think twice, you reach out and pluck the cigarette from his fingers. A stunned look washes over his face as he watches you raise it to your lips. A warm feeling rises in you as you realize you’d never seen him look so earnestly shocked, and you’re the one that made it happen.

It’s fleeting though - he fixes his expression quickly and steals the cigarette back from you, giving you a faux-scolding look. “Didn’t you pay attention in health class? These are bad for you.” 

You can’t help but laugh, leaning back against the railing in front of him. You try to keep your tone light. “You saw everything then?”

“More than I was supposed to, I would imagine,” he agrees with a nod. “Where’d you dig that guy up from anyway? He seems like an asshole.” He takes one last drag and then drops the cigarette. It leaves behind a tiny char spot on the wood where he stamps it out with his boot. 

You give a quiet laugh and look away, but you can feel the intensity of his eyes on you. “He’s a nice enough guy.” You’re not positive why you still feel the need to defend him, but it makes Jake roll his eyes amusedly. 

“Please,” he starts through a smug smile. “If you really liked him, I can’t imagine you’d be out here right now. Did you just leave him in there?”

Your eyes widen, shocked by how forward he can be. Feeling rather small under his brazen judgments, the most you can muster is a nod in confirmation. 

He gives a low snigger, shaking his head. “You should get back in there before he leaves then. Since you’re so into him.” 

The wind picks up, which is good because now you have something to blame for the goosebumps rising all across your body. You’re staring at him silently, not sure what to say, and not sure about how you feel. Well, that’s a bit of a lie - you’ve never been less concerned about Mitch in your life, and you’ve never been so wracked with the need for someone’s approval.

“I’m not,” you admit quietly, leaning back against the wooden railing. 

When you look back at him, he’s wearing that smug smirk again - the one that’s almost signature to the Jake Kiszka brand. 

“I know. What are you going to do about it?” he challenges.

You shrug your bare shoulders, and it’s quiet for a beat before you try to speak again. “I blew up at him and told him to leave.” 

Jake gives you an impressed look. “Wow, good.”

You frown at him. “Why wow?” you ask, the suspicion in your tone making him laugh.

“I don’t know, you just seem too nice.”

Annoyance causes your frown to deepen, you go to say something, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t look at me like that. How long would you have let that relationship go on before you finally put it out of its misery?” Your lips purse in agitation at his patronizing tone.

Dodging his question, you scoff. “I’m not that nice. I do plenty of bad things.”

He looks all too pleased with himself, like the conversation ended up here by design.

“Like what?” His voice is lower now. Quiet. “Take a drag off of someone else’s cigarette?”

You’re close enough to him that you could lean in and kiss him with ease, but you’re fairly sure that’s what he wants you to do. If he expects it, it won’t be satisfying enough. The urge to truly impress him is stronger than you’d like to admit. 

You reach down to take his hand in yours, and he lets you.  

You aren’t normally one to misbehave - as much as you hate to admit he’s right - but he makes you want to.  

You pull his hand up to your face, and he cups your chin in his cool palm. He looks collected, but you can tell he’s waiting to see what you’re going to do next. You don’t want to disappoint him - you want to give him a good show. Before you lose your confidence, you wrap your fingers around his wrist, holding it there in front of your face. Infuriatingly slowly, you tilt your head down, parting your lips and taking his thumb into your mouth. It’s completely silent, save for the sound of the breeze and the muted music from the house, so you can hear the exact second that his breath catches in his throat. You feel electric, but you honestly can’t tell if it’s from how sexual the moment is, or how satisfying it is to see him struck silent. 

All the Kiszka boys are gorgeous, but the way his face looks as you run your tongue along his skin makes your muscles weak. You let your eyes flutter closed, so you’re not expecting it when his other hand finds your hip, holding you exactly where you are.

“Jesus,” he says on an exhale. You hum around his skin, and a moment later, you pull his hand away from your mouth. It leaves a light, smokey taste on your tongue. He looks like he can’t find a single thing to say for a few moments. You can feel him start to pull you in, but both of you jump as the door swings open. You manage to step far enough away from him to not look conspicuous just as Lucy pops her head out.

“Oh my god, I finally found you.” Her words are pretty sloppy, but you smile and nod. “What are you doing out here?”

Your heart is pounding, but you try to keep a relaxed pose.

“Just needed some air after all of that,” you reply, voice quavering, but Lucy is far too drunk to notice.

“Did you know that Mitch just left?” Her brows are tipped up in a look of utmost concern. 

You shake your head no but quickly change the subject. “It’s cold out here, Lu. You should head back inside.”

Her frown deepens, and you realize that she isn’t going away unless you go with her. 

“I’ll come inside in one second,” you assure, tone taking on a bargaining nature. “And I’ll take you up on that dance.”

She suddenly beams at you, nodding so quickly that you’re not sure how she doesn’t make herself dizzy. “I’ll make you a drink.”

You laugh and go to tell her to slow down, but she’s gone before you can utter another word. 

To your slight dismay, when you look back at Jake, he has completely collected himself. It feels like progress lost. If you didn’t notice the way his eyes linger on your lips as he pulls out another cigarette, you’d think everything was perfectly normal. There isn’t anywhere on Earth you’d rather be right now, but you acknowledge that Lucy will be back out to get you if you take too long.

You consider staying - trying to find all the ways you can convince him of your mischievous side further - but you settle instead for reaching down for his lighter, and he lets you take it from his hand. He’s staring directly into your eyes, which makes it hard for you to focus on lighting the cigarette in his mouth, especially as the flame illuminates the high points of his lovely face. When it’s ignited, he instantly takes a drag and breathes it out through his nostrils. You tuck the lighter into the front pocket of his jeans.

As you go to open the door and head inside, you catch him shaking his head with a smirk. 

The feeling in your stomach is strange and foreign as you make your way into the living room to find Lucy, but as you sway back and forth with her on the rug, you realize that it must be some form of relief. You know you should feel guilty, but you don’t, even in the slightest.

PART TWO