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gretavangroupie · 9 months ago

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The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 19.8k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

The heat of your breath is fogging up the windows of the van as you drift in and out of a dazy snooze. The morning has already been long, with a wake-up time of 3:30AM to be on the van to the airport by 4:00AM. The flight to Amsterdam from Hamburg was short, only a little over an hour long, thank goodness. However, now all you can think about is getting checked into your hotel room and crashing back out for a couple of hours before you have to wake up again.

Paul, Wes, and Corri are occupying the seats toward the front of the van, and you’re thankful you can let your head rest on the window in peace. Your AirPods are stuck in your ears with the volume just loud enough that you could hear if one of them spoke to you, but still enough to fully enjoy the music floating through your ears. You don’t even dare listen to the playlist Jake made for you, it almost puts a sour taste in your mouth just looking at it, especially after what happened last night.

Of course Josh caught you. Of course it had to be him. But what is really still throwing you for a loop is why Josh felt he had to keep the encounter such a secret, locking his lips and doing away with the key.

Jake hadn’t said anything about your last addition of ‘High and Dry’, but you chalked it up to him just wanting to diffuse the situation after you left the bar, alone. You thought he might walk you back, given the situation you’d found yourself in just two nights prior, but he didn’t. He stayed, and let you go. And thankfully you’d made it back safely by yourself.

The more you think about it, the more you realize Jake had plenty of time to text a quick ‘Sorry about that’ or ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, goodnight…’ but he didn’t. Again. Just left you….high and dry. And what made it even worse was that as you were trying to fall asleep in your hotel room last night, you heard the faint sound of the song playing out in the hallway. Jake was coming back to his room, listening to the song you added for him as he meandered closer and closer. But instead of a knock on your door, all you heard was the latch of his closing.

You find yourself feeling a little pissed off, because the moment you shared in the dark bathroom really felt like something. It was…very fucking hot, if you’re being honest. He felt good. He felt strong, and sturdy, but also gentle and delicate when he needed to be. You can almost still feel how he felt between your legs, pressed up against you as you sat on the edge of the sink. His hands on your back, mouth on your neck, fingertips digging into your thighs….

“Y/N! Let’s get out of here!” You hear Corri’s brash voice wake you from your rated-R daydream, and you have to blink a few times to get the image of Jake all over you out of your head. You stretch a little and pull the music from your ears as the cab light comes on, and the four of you exit the van. You check into your far too luxurious hotel room, and crash onto the bed without even bothering to change your clothes.

—

Your alarm startles you two hours later, and surprisingly the cat nap has you feeling extremely refreshed. You jump from the bed and pull the curtains on the window, showing you the scene of a cloudy Amsterdam from your fourth-story room. You can feel the cold air moving through the window, and you know it’s going to be another bitterly chilly day.

After a quick rinse-shower, you sit back on the bed to check your phone and emails and see you have a text from an unknown number from just ten minutes ago.

Unknown

9:02AM: Hey! We’re going to go see the city and walk around a little, you want to go?

You deduce that it is probably Mia or Lyla, and you contemplate on whether or not you want to even move from your bed today. But after a little thought, and another glance to the sun barely peeking through the clouds, you decide, why the hell not. You don’t want to see Jake, really, but the regret you’d feel for not seeing Amsterdam while you’re here would probably be worse. You send up a quick prayer that Josh will keep your secret today, and not make things any more awkward than they already are.

You

9:04AM: Hey, sure! I’d love to 😊

Unknown

9:05AM: Cool! We’re leaving in an hour, we’ll meet up in the lobby. Dress warm!

9:05AM: This is Lyla, btw

You

9:06AM: Sounds great, see you in a bit

You lock your phone and stand up to finish getting dressed, adding on a few more layers to your already warm attire. Your stomach churns with nerves, but you’re excited to see the city and maybe get to know the girls a little better. Plus, Ruth is begging you for photos.

Speaking of Ruth…

You grab your phone and pull it from the charging cord, bringing up her contact for a FaceTime call. It rings out, and you press your eyeball directly to the front camera lens.

“Shit, what the hell, cyclops!” She yells as you pull away snickering.

“Why is it so dark in your room?” you ask, realizing you hadn’t even thought about the time difference.

“Because it’s two o’clock in the fuckin’ morning here, dimwit! I answered because you scared me. Are you okay?” she spouts off with her voice cracking from sleep.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine,” you laugh a little as she rubs her eyes in the light of her phone screen. “I’m in Amsterdam, thought I’d give you a rundown but, you need to go back to sleep,” you say.

“Ugh, if I didn’t have to wake up in three hours for work I would disagree with you. Yeah, just text me. Actually no, that will take too long. Send voice memos. Or a video or something.”

You take a quick breath. “I have a lot to tell you, Ruthie.”

“Fuck, seriously? Damn it, just…send something I don’t care. I gotta know. Is it bad news? It’s good news, right?” she goes on.

You roll your eyes a bit as you place your fingers over your mouth. “It’s…a lot. Good and, well not the best. Go back to sleep. I love you.”

“Kay nighty night.” Her last words were said with her eyes closed, and you know for a fact she’s already drifted back off into her slumber.

You plop onto your bed and scroll social media for a few minutes as you try to kill time, feeling your stomach start to growl and grumble against the mattress below you.

Maybe you should you add a song?

No… You’d be seeing Jake in the next little bit, and you were the last one to make contact. This is up to him, if he even wants to. You stand and grab up your long, heavy coat, making sure you have everything you need for the day before taking off to the lobby to grab a quick breakfast and wait on everyone else.

—

JAKE POV

The music swirling through the steamy air comes to a close as you spin the handle on the shower faucet, the water slowly trickling to a stop. The song she sent last night has been stuck in your head since you hung up with Isla, and you have let it be the soundtrack to your life in the hours since. You spent nearly the entire shower thinking about Y/N, listening along to the track and letting it seep into your bones. You thought about her, and only her for the past few days now. How you left her last night, and how you have yet to speak to her since. Even the plane ride this morning was spent in silence. You knew you needed to answer her song, say something to explain yourself. You were going to, you just had to figure it out, and now that you had time to sit down and think about it, uninterrupted, you would.

Get out, dry off, get dressed and answer her. You had a plan, and you were sticking to it.

You step out of the large walk in shower, wrapping the fluffy white towel around your waist. You take a second to look at your surroundings, remembering how only a few years ago you were all bringing towels from home, feeling lucky enough to shower in a rundown Motel 6 bathroom in the middle of nowhere. Your life had changed drastically in a matter of years, and it wasn’t long into that success when you first met Isla.

She was a vision of auburn hair as she swept through the bar that night, so light and so carefree. You could see why Lyla and Sam had befriended her, her personality very much the same as theirs. It wasn’t long after that night that the two of you started seeing each other, things quickly becoming serious. A year later she moved into your house. It was like she was always there, making the space her own and sharing her days with you. She was with you as the band really started to make moves, never once complaining about the late nights or the long stretches of tour, that is, until she did.

Things started to change last summer. The once light and vibrant girl you fell in love with had become catty and accusatory, her light burning out and her desire to be something other than your girlfriend dwindling away to nothing. It became her, consumed her, and suddenly you became an accessory instead of a partner. Nothing seemed to satisfy her anymore, and the time you could give her was never enough. She reminded you of that, often, as if there was anything you could do to change it. You fought like cats and dogs on any given day, each argument always ending in a band-aid resolution that never got you anywhere.

There were the big ones, the ones that would have you on the couch at Josh’s or in the guest room at Sam’s. The ones they didn’t ask about because they knew better, instead opening their homes and lending their liquor cabinet. The ones that you didn’t dare mention, even months after the fact, for fear of starting it all over again. Those fights started to get closer and closer together, until you found yourself almost needing to chip in for your brothers’ mortgage payments.

You knew it was done. You knew it was over, but the problem wasn’t that you couldn’t do it. No, the problem was that every time you would try, it wouldn’t stick. Listening to her tell you that your reasons were never good enough, or that it would be too hard to end things before you left. It was always before you left, and this time was no different.

Your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter snaps you back to reality, watching as it slowly inches its way closer and closer to the edge. You snatch it up as your hair drips down your back, sliding your finger across the glass as you scoff at the name on the Caller ID.

“Hello, Josh.”

“Oh, so they didn’t invite you either? Assholes…” he grumbles under his breath.

“Invite me where? Who?” you ask, making your way back into the room.

“Sam and Daniel, and the girls I guess…” he pauses, “Just checked their location to see if they wanted to get brunch and they fucked off into town without us. Not even an invite.”

“Really?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to check your texts. “Shit, yeah, I didn’t get a text from them either. Though, I did tell them I was gonna catch a few more hours of sleep when we got here. Can’t you just go with Ty?” You groan, knowing you really planned to stay in your room all day and binge watch Criminal Minds.

“No. He went for a massage a little while ago, so now you have to go with me,” he says matter of factly.

“Do I? I don’t think I do, actually.”

“No, you do, it’s in the rule book,” he answers, an air of playfulness in his voice.

“The rule book…Don’t think I got one of those,” you joke, pulling on a pair of boxers.

“Yeah, they give it to the head twin, you know, the first one out,” he laughs. “I’m in charge, the book says so, and I say brunch with a Mimosa. If you’re good I’ll even get you a Bloody Mary, my treat. Meet me downstairs in like fifteen,” he says, ending the call before you even have a chance to decline. Fucker, he knew you too well.

You quickly dress yourself, checking your phone no less than five times just to see if maybe she had said something, but still there is silence. Your plan has officially gone to shit, no surprise there. You promised yourself you’d do it when you got back. No excuses. You huff out a sigh as you spray your cologne, grabbing your wallet and your phone and shoving them into your coat pocket. You make your way downstairs to meet Josh, finding him lounging in a wingback chair nearly double his size.

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” you offer, watching him spring out of the chair, his white Nike’s scuffing loudly against the marble tiles.

“Did you text Dean?” you ask, pushing open the glass doors.

“Yeah, the place I want to go is just a block away, said to call him if we need him but keep our wits about us. Told him I would, but can’t speak for you since you don’t have any.”

You stop walking and start to turn around, definitely not in the headspace for his antics today. He stops too, and you feel him grab your arm and sling you back in the right direction.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, no games today, got it,” he says, feigning guilt.

You walk in silence the rest of the way, ducking into a little cafe with a heated patio. You felt like you hadn’t seen the sun in days and both of you quickly agree that the patio might be your only chance.

Your eyes scan the menu, looking for any words that seem familiar to you. You’re about half way through it when Josh pulls your menu down and looks you in the eye. You know what he wants, and you know you have to tell him, but you need a drink first, at the very minimum.

Saved by the bell your waiter comes to your table, taking your drink orders and rushing off before you could blink.

As expected the grilling starts, and much to your dismay you are alone on the patio with no chance of anyone hearing the two of you bicker.

“Alright Jake, I let you sleep on it. Time to talk,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest.

You rub your hand over your face, truly not knowing where to begin. You let out a sigh, and he seems to pick up on your inner turmoil.

“Start wherever, but I would probably choose the beginning.”

You move your fingers to your lips, looking at him with challenging eyes “What is it exactly that you want to know, Josh? I mean–”

“Cut the shit, Jake. What is going on? I want everything, top to bottom, now,” he snaps, aggression present in his tone.

“You’re mad for no fuckin’ reason, Josh!”

“No, I’m mad for great reason, Jake! You’re out here fucking around with our runner, two days into the tour mind you, while your girlfriend is back in Nashville living in your home!” he seethes, his fists clenched tightly on top of the white tablecloth.

Your blood is boiling as he finishes his tirade. “Knock it the fuck off, you know damn good and well she is not my girlfriend anymore!”

“Do I? Do I, Jake? Last I heard, you were ‘easing off for a little bit’...” he replies, gesturing air quotes.

“Do you honestly think that I would have been living in your house for the last month if we were ‘just ‘easing off’? You retort, gesturing the same air quotes.

Josh sits back in his chair a little, his aggression backing off just a little bit, enough for you to keep talking. “Explain.”

You blow out a breath of frustration, “She doesn’t get it, Josh. I can’t seem to get it through her head.”

“What?”

You bite your lips together before you answer, “I have tried to end things no less than five times in the last few months. There’s always some reason… Always something that…Fuck, I don’t know. It just never sticks. She won’t hear it,” you pause, “I was serious this time though, Josh. I told her point blank, I do not want to be together anymore. It was like I was speaking fucking Latin, she refused to hear me. We were up the entire night arguing, man. It’s… It’s just so done, and I’m the only one who can see it apparently.”

“So if she won’t accept it, you’re still technically together, though? She’s still in the house?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his beard.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess? But also, No? The only way I could get the fuck out of that house in time to make it on the plane, was by agreeing to a ‘break’. But it’s not a break. I’m done, she knows I’m done. Told her she could still live in the house for a bit until she found her own place, but I told her, point blank, we needed to separate. No contact. You can see how that is going for her.”

“Does she know that you are…you know, seeing other people?” he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

“Am I supposed to care? We aren’t together!” you argue.

“But you kind of are Jacob!” he spits, “Look, I’m not trying to like, take her side here or whatever, but if she is under the impression you two are only on a break, I highly doubt she would be okay with you seeing other people. You’ll be labeled a cheater and god knows what else if she catches wind.”

“This is the messiest shit I have ever been a part of. I swear to god…” you groan, rubbing your hand over your face. “I seriously never thought I would find myself going through something like this.”

His brows pinch together in confusion, “So why didn’t you just say straight up, I want to separate, please move out of my home?”

“I mean, I kind of did, I think. It’s so much more complicated when you’ve been together as long as we have. We’ve had the exact same argument hundreds of times, that’s no exaggeration. She lives with me, man… I can’t just expect her to move out overnight, ya know? Which is why I agreed to the break. To give her time to…Get her shit together, I guess. But she knows I’m out. She has to know.”

“But she is still calling and texting you daily?” he asks.

“All fucking day everyday. I never reply, and she still continues. As if– as if nothing ever happened. Like I said, she is just not getting it,” you explain. “Every time I would come stay at your place, she would just… come up with some reason, or some excuse to get me to come home for a few nights. We would just bandaid the problem, until it just exploded again and I’d end up back at your house or at Sam’s. But I had to be careful at Sam’s because Lyla is her best fuckin’ friend. You’d think she would have caught the drift after so many nights of me crashing there that things weren’t good. I don’t know, I hate this shit, I have suffered long enough. I want out. And I fear that when we get home, I might have to take more drastic measures. And I don’t want that shit, either.”

“So things are a lot worse than you initially led on…” he states, shaking his head as he sips from his glass.

“Yeah, I guess so. Shit’s embarrassing, man. It’s rocky as hell and I don’t know what to do. I obviously still care for her as a person, but I just can’t do this with her anymore. I thought this time and space away from each other would help me get my head right and find a way to sort this shit out, but it seems like it’s only gotten worse and even more complicated since even a month ago, before we ever even left,” you continue.

“And now there’s Y/N…” he grimaces, truly starting to understand your predicament. “I mean, it’s really only been, what, two days?”

You let out a sigh and shake your head, “Yeah, yeah. But I can honestly say that I have felt more in the last two days for Y/N than I have felt for Isla in the last year.”

“Do you think maybe… She’s…just a distraction from your real feelings? Like a space filler type of thing while you figure out shit with Isla?” he asks, broaching the subject very gently. “To be fair, I don’t blame you at all, she’s really gorgeous and a lovely girl from the little I’ve talked to her.”

“I know it looks that way, trust me. I do. But, no… It’s something else. I know it's only been two days, but there is something there, and I have to explore it,” you admit. “Like I said, I feel things I haven’t felt in so long. Not just physical things, either. And yeah, I know she works for us, and shit, but I– It was about two minutes into that plane ride that I knew it didn’t matter. I had to get to know her.”

“Answer me this, do you still love Isla?” he asks, leaning his elbows onto the table as he gives you that horribly painful twin stare that you both can only give to one another. The kind that pulls the truth from you no matter how badly you might not want to admit it.

“I mean, I love her as a person, but no, I haven’t been in love with her in some time,” you confess.

“In your mind is there any chance of reconciliation?”

Your mind flashes through a hundred scenes of screaming fights, thrown objects, tears and accusations, “No. Not anymore,” you pause, rubbing your lips. “A week ago if you asked me that, I might have said maybe. It would be so easy to fall back into the good routine we had, everything would be good again for a little while at least, but it would change and we would be back to where we are now. Endless fuckin’ cycle. I can’t do that my whole life, Josh. I don’t deserve that. I was so excited about this leg of tour, just because she wasn’t coming. I could be alone and not go to bed mad and arguing every night. Do you know how fucked that is? That is not how I should feel about the person I am supposedly in love with. I should want her here, and I just don’t.”

He nods his head in agreement, sucking his teeth with a hiss.

“Two days with Y/N has proven to me just how unhappy I am in that relationship with Isla. How much I’m just…not in love with her anymore. It only confirms my decision,” you admit.

“So she’s calling and stuff to try and keep you strung along… So that you’ll come home and pick right back up on this nasty cycle the two of you are in…” he questions.

“Basically. Which is why I refuse to engage with it. She can text all she wants, I’m not answering her,” you snap. “Things aren’t black and white for her, they are very gray and for me they are stark white. I don’t know how to make it more clear.”

He drops his head and looks up at you as he leans on his elbows again, “Look, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I won’t say anything to anyone about last night, or whatever is going on with you and Y/N. I want you to be happy, and I can tell you haven’t been in a long time. I’m just really sorry I was such an ass. I wish you would have talked to me, you know, like we used to.”

“I know, I know. It’s my own pride that stopped me. I just, I feel like I'm on the precipice of being happy again, I just have to keep following it, even if it looks really bad from the outside,” you pause, “Also, you guys have to stop picking on her, she is innocent in all of this. She already thinks you guys don’t like her.”

“Oh, that's just not true, we all like her a lot, you have to tell her we don’t mean it,” he laughs, tilting his head to the side as he tosses back the rest of his mimosa. “Wait, does she know about Isla?”

“No, absolutely not,” you answer a little too quickly.

“Are you… planning on telling her?”

“Honestly, I haven’t really thought that far ahead, I mean, I know I need to. I wasn’t really planning on Isla blowing my phone up day and night. Guess I should have known better, huh?” you laugh, offering him a small smile.

“You need to tell her, Jake. Don’t fuck it up before you even get things started,” he offers.

“Don’t you know that’s my specialty?” you ask, sipping your spicy bloody mary. “I mean, last night is a whole other problem. When you saw us out there I had every intention of leaving that bar with her and taking her back to the hotel. It was all I could think about. But then you were out there with my phone and the shit with Isla. Fuck…I panicked. I just sent her back to the hotel. Left her out to dry like a fucking prick. Haven’t spoken to her since. She probably wants nothing to do with me at this point.”

“No, no I doubt that. She’s probably a little hurt, maybe a little confused, but I think she will come around. I saw the way she was looking at you last night,” he smiles. “But Jake, seriously. You have to tell her about Isla.”

“God, I know it just, why would I even be thinking about Isla when I’m with her? I swear it’s like none of it exists when we are with each other. Everything is easy.”

“Sounds like you found yourself someone special,” he smiles.

“I think you’re right.”

—

HER POV

The morning had been spent walking up and down the streets of Amsterdam, getting lost and finding your way again over and over as you navigated the map app on Danny’s phone. To your surprise, Jake and Josh hadn’t joined you. Just you, Sam, Danny, Lyla and Mia. It felt a little strange at first, and you felt the fifth-wheel anxiety hit you hard as you trailed behind them, the two couples happy and holding hands as you all explored. But luckily, at the last second, Dean joined you on the excursion, insisting that five of you needed an escort.

You’d taken the time to speak to Dean and get to know him a little; he’s a big burly man with cheeks that stay red and a beard and mustache that hide his mouth. He’s middle aged, and a man of few words, but you were determined to break through his exterior just a little bit, seeing as how he is one of your coworkers.

Now, as you all are heading back to the hotel with your arms full of various shopping bags and leftover food cart goodies, the conversation you’d worked so hard to start up with Dean is flowing freely. The two of you converse about the job, about travel, about where each of you are from and how you got hooked up with these crazy four. He’s fairly easy to talk to, and you find yourself very calm in his presence.

“I heard about what went down at the restaurant the other night, Ms. Y/N. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he admits as you watch Lyla and Mia pull the guys into a tiny boutique.

“Oh, no need to apologize,” you respond, a little surprised, “It was no big deal, really. I made a stupid mistake by going out alone that late, I learned my lesson. Just glad Jake was able to come help me out.”

“Still, it’s one of my responsibilities to make sure everyone is safe. Mr. Jacob made it very clear that you’re on that list, too.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and pushes a few buttons before speaking again. “I’m gonna get your number right now, so you never find yourself in a situation like that again.” You nod as you agree, knowing that you should have had his number saved a long time ago. You switch phones with him as you each enter your respective numbers, and he smiles as he locks his, pushing it back into the pocket of his coat. It hits you that Jake must have had a conversation with him.

“We’ve got more security coming, I’m sure you’ve heard. They should be here within the next few days. This is usually a one man job, but… I guess as the band gets more and more popular, these kinds of things just need to naturally grow along with them,” he explains, keeping his head on a swivel as he eyes each of them inside the store. “Turns into a team effort.”

You nod, pushing your windblown hair behind your ear before shoving your freezing hand back in your pocket. “I did hear about that. Bet it brings everyone peace of mind having more hands on deck, especially you,” you offer.

“Mmhm,” he replies, “Most definitely. I’ve met these guys before, think everybody will like them. Real straightforward outfit. I’m their head of security, but with the way this group operates, they’re probably gonna be calling most of the shots, if not all of them.” He sucks his teeth, and you can’t tell if he’s irked or maybe, a little bit relieved to have the help.

“You gonna be alright with that?” you press, hoping you’re not stepping on his toes.

He shrugs one shoulder, and you can see his eyes darting around behind his sunglasses. “I’m only one guy, Ms. Y/N.” His response is blunt, so you decide to leave it at that.

You take a second to browse the boutique, meeting up again with Lyla and Mia and gushing over sweaters and dresses that none of you could ever afford, and for the first time in two days, you’d gone more than half an hour without thinking about Jake. As soon as the memory of him and what happened last night flows back into your brain, you almost double over with a strange anxiety. You pull out your phone again, checking to see if he has texted at all, or added anything to the playlist, but you’re met with nothing. Nothing.

“Let’s go get a drink or something!” Mia finally suggests to the group as you congregate in front of the store on the sidewalk, and everyone agrees. “Danny baby, pull up somewhere to go.”

“Let’s just take off walking again, we passed like fifty pubs on the way here,” he argues, bursting through the group and walking down the sidewalk again. The tension feels like it has dissipated for the most part; you have to admit that at first you were still a little worried that things might be a little strange between all of you. But as soon as you all got a couple of drinks in you, the anxiety melts away, and you find yourself laughing along and fitting right in with them. The girls are really cool, and Danny and Sam together keep the conversation going with ease.

An hour or so later, you’re unlocking your hotel door and stripping the layers of clothing off as you now have gotten a little sweaty from the heat mixed with the alcohol. The sun had popped out a little, only adding to your need for a giant bottle of water, and to relax across your bed. As you scroll social media and flick through TV channels in languages you can’t understand, you find your mind drifting back to Jake again. At this point, you know he isn’t going to text. He isn’t going to call, he isn’t going to add another song. If he was going to, he would have by now. You swallow down the realization, flipping to your back to push a pillow over your face. You think about calling Ruth, but at the same time, you hardly even feel like talking about it.

Just as you're about to scream into the void, you hear a knock at your door. Who in the world? You stand up and adjust your clothing and hair, expecting Corri or Paul to be delivering you some information in person. You unlatch the deadbolt and swing the door open, finding none other than Jake leaning with one hand on your door frame, and the other gripping a single deep burgundy flower.

“Hey…” he mumbles, biting his lip.

“Hey, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” you fumble over your words, not only because you hadn’t spoken all day, but because he looked so overwhelmingly delicious standing there effortlessly dripping sex in your doorway that you almost catch yourself drooling. Loose, dark slacks, a black button up revealing his chest, his hair freshly washed and still damp around the roots… His skin is still glowing from the heat of his shower, and you can smell his body wash mixed in with that damn cologne he apparently carries with him everywhere. Your eyes flick to the flower hanging loosely from his fingertips before meeting his eyes again.

“I know, I should have called first, ‘m sorry…” he stumbles, pulling his hand from his pocket and swiping it across his nose.

“No no, it’s fine, um… did you need… you wanna come inside?” you weren’t quite sure what to offer at this point; he wouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t want to talk.

He stands up straight now, smoothing his hands over his shirt and then placing them both in his pockets. “No, actually, I came by to see if you would want to go on a walk with me,” he asks, a shyness in his tone that feels new to you. “And to bring you this.”

He extends his hand, offering you the dark red flower, multi petaled and fragrant. “Saw it earlier at a flower stand and I…I don’t know, I thought of you. Thought you should have it.”

You accept it from his fingers, bringing it to your nose to take in its earthy smell, “It’s beautiful, what is it?”

“It’s a Dahlia, I believe. The vendor said it was a Black Dahlia, but it looks dark red to me. I don’t know, I just thought it was pretty. Thought of you.” he smiles nervously. You stare at him as you twist the flower under your nose and think about his question.

“So, a walk?” you reiterate, finding the idea both exhausting and appealing, seeing as how you had just gotten back from an extremely lengthy one with everyone else. “I really should stay in tonight, I… dunno…”

“Please?” he asks, squinting his eyes. “Just a short one, we don’t have to go far. I just– I saw something cool today, and I thought you might like to see it, too. Wanna show you…”

You huff a little as you lean your head on the edge of the open door. His eyes are pleading, and you can tell there’s more to his little plan than simply showing you something.

Maybe he wants to talk. Maybe he wants to explain things… sort it all out…

“Okay. We can go. But, I have to get dressed first,” you say, already dreading putting all those layers back on, but not feeling so bad about it because now you’ll be with him. You feel a little reluctant, the pissed-off feeling you’d had all day still lying heavily present in your mind. But, he’s making an effort, at least…

“Take your time. I’m just a floor up, 507,” he starts to back away, the tiniest satisfied grin forming on his face. His eyes travel up and down your body so fast you almost miss it. “Just come knock when you’re ready.”

You close the door as he rounds the corner to the elevator, and you can’t help but feel that rush of nerves fly up your body again. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he came to your door. With a flower. God, what a gentleman. You place the flower on the dresser, your heart pounding at the sweet gesture. You rush into the bathroom to freshen everything up and spruce your tangled hair, brushing some powder across your face and adding a little more mascara. You re-apply your favorite perfume to your wrists and neck, taking a little extra time to make sure you looked presentable in the full-length mirror on the wall.

When you feel as if your appearance is as good as it's gonna get, you sit on your bed, wanting to make Jake wait for you just a little bit longer. You go ahead and pull up a facetime call with Ruth, waiting for the tone to ring out.

The screen opens with Ruth holding up one finger, mouthing for you to hang on as she finishes out what looks to be a very annoying phone call with a client. She spins in her chair as she rolls her eyes, letting her head look at the ceiling as she uses her formal, professional voice to end the call.

“...You have an excellent day, ma’am. Mhm. Thank you, Buh-bye,” she presses a button on her phone and rips her headset off, fumbling for her airpods as she picks up her phone. “Oh my GOD today has been insane and I hate everything,” she complains as you watch the screen fill up with her face, and you hear the sound of her acrylic nails tapping all over her screen. You patiently wait, watching her loudly chew her gum, knowing that she has to clear away her notifications before she can even begin to have an uninterrupted conversation with you. “Okay I’m ready what the fuck has happened?!”

You laugh, giving her the rundown of everything that happened since you last spoke, her facial expressions letting you know she is hanging on your every word. “...And now, he just showed up at my fucking door, and asked me on a date, I guess? After basically dry humping me in the bathroom then sending me home without another word,” you finish, whispering your words as if he could hear you. “I dunno, Ruth. Should I even go?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Yes you should go. Give him a chance to explain, at least. He wouldn’t have shown up to your door if he didn’t really want you to come, ya know?” she says, immediately noticing her word choice, and slyly smiling as she bounced her eyebrows.

“Shut the fuck up. Ugh, yeah, you’re right. Does this outfit look okay?” you stand back and flip the camera around showing her yourself in the mirror.

“Slayyyyyyyy that jacket is hot, where on earth did you even get it?!” she rolls her eyes.

“From you. For my birthday. When you found out I was going to a colder climate,” you laugh. “Okay, I'm gonna go, I guess. I’ll text you later.”

“Live updates, please. I want to know the way this man ticks,” she teases.

“Shut up. Bye.” You end the call and grab your purse, making sure your room key is in your bag. You also make sure to grab the jacket Jake sent you home in last night, not able to bear another second staring at it draped across the back of the chair.

—

“Thought you might want this back,” you say when Jake opens the door, taking the coat from your outstretched hand.

He smirks as he takes it, tossing it behind him to land on some unknown surface. “Looks better on you, but it’s one of only three jackets I brought with me.” You both laugh a little as you make your way down the hall and to the elevator. The whole ride down is silent, with both of you standing at opposite sides, more or less feeling no shame in drinking the other in. His arms and ankles are crossed as the elevator descends, and you can feel his eyes boring into you.

“You look really nice today,” he offers as you exit the lobby and head back out into the freezing cold air.

“Thank you,” you reply shyly, feeling the blush creep to your cheeks. “So do you…” you wanted to gush about how perfectly his hair is sitting around his face, how his shirt and jacket are hanging across his shoulders, how poised he just always seems to be without even trying… but you don’t. You hope to god you don’t run into any of his brothers, or anyone that you work with; coming up with an explanation why the two of you are out alone together again is something you truly don’t feel like dealing with right now. “So where are we going?”

“It’s called The Jordaan. It’s a really old neighborhood, with a canal going through the center. Bunch of little shops and stuff. Did you guys walk this way this morning?” you notice the lilt in his voice.

You shake your head. “No, we went the opposite way,” you answer. It’s quiet for just a minute more as you pass by the crowds and other people on the streets. “Why didn’t you and Josh come along?”

He takes a quick breath. “Eh, we didn’t really receive an invite, honestly,” he laughs, stroking his fingers over his mustache. “Had to be Lyla or Mia’s idea to go, if I had to guess.” He was right, but you still felt bad. “But it was okay, me and Josh went to eat and got to… talk a little without the interruption of the other two. Kinda rare these days,” he smiles, and his knuckles brush across yours just barely. The light touch sends your bloodstream to a raging fire, and you have to stifle down the pull to grab his hand altogether.

The sun is peeking through the heavy cloud cover of the evening, and you find yourself staring at the way Jake’s pulled his sunglasses to sit on top of his head, letting the gleam of the sunlight bounce into his mocha colored irises. He looks you in the eye each and every time he speaks, and commands your complete attention away from everything else around you. You’re pulled into him, letting your bodies barely touch and move together as you walk along. This attraction feels different than the heated, blurry, intense pull you had to one another last night. This feels innocent, even though you both know that it’s anything but.

You turn a corner as you come along to the long line of homes and buildings, multicolored and old in their exteriors but, still holding just the right amount of charm to be an attraction. You catch yourself looking above to see the craftsmanship of them. “Wow…” you exclaim quietly as you peer up at the finely detailed architecture, staring in awe at the shape they are still in. You pull your phone from your pocket and start to take photos, zooming in on the details and making a mental note to send them straight to Ruth later.

You walk up onto a little footbridge lined with parked bikes and people stopped to take photos. Suddenly Jake is behind you, barely resting his chin on your shoulder. “Gimme your phone, let me take your picture,” he murmurs in your ear.

“Oh no, that’s okay…” Before the words can even escape your lips, he’s snatched your phone and started backing up, glancing behind him and back to your phone every few seconds.

“You’re really good at taking my phone away and doing whatever you want with it, you know!” you yell at him in aggravation.

He motions his free hand for you to scoot sideways, and then again for you to stop where you are. He snaps a few, turning the phone on its side to get every angle he can. You stand a bit awkwardly, hating that people are having to stop when they notice they are walking in line of the photo. Finally he finishes and rushes back over to you. “They look good! See?” he says, handing your phone back and swiping through them with you. “Now you’ll have record.”

You walk past a few secondhand shops and stores, and suddenly, something in one of the windows catches your eye. “Oh my god, look at that!” you squeal, pointing to a glimmering red dress sitting perfectly on a mannequin. It isn’t like any dress you’d seen before; it looks vintage, bright cherry red velvet with sewn-in sequins weaved throughout. It’s tight, but not too tight, and short and lacking fabric in all the right places.

“Damn, you should go try it on!” Jake exclaims, obviously agreeing with your surprise at how pretty it is.

“Nah, I shouldn’t…” you say, walking away from the window.

“No, you should, actually. That dress is hot, Y/N,” he says, elbowing you in the ribs. “And I think you’d make it a hundred times hotter.”

You scoff. “Be quiet, no I would not.”

“Prove me wrong, then,” he challenges with a smirk, opening the door to the shop, and holding his hand out to invite you inside.

You step inside, and are immediately greeted by a man dressed in a formal tuxedo. He notices that you are not local during his greeting, and switches to rough English.

“Eyeballing the red number, are you madam? Give me one second, I’ll grab it off the mannequin for you,” you and Jake lock eyes as the man flits away, straight for the window. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation and gives you a grin so adorable you almost melt into putty right there in the store.

“Here you are ma’am, please, be careful, very old dress,” he explains, handing you the dress on a hanger and opening a curtain for you to go behind.

“Go ahead,” Jake mouths, pushing you into the small dressing room.

You stand almost naked in front of the mirror as you slip the soft, tight fabric over your thighs, your stomach, and finally over your shoulders. Jake was right, it fits you perfectly. The velvet material snatches your waist and bust, and cuts right above your knee. Its sequins shimmer in the overhead light, but aren’t so overwhelming that it looks showy. It’s something you could dress up, or dress down. You reach behind you and pull the zipper up only halfway. Of course.

You take a deep breath and pull the curtain back, finding Jake to have taken a seat on a plush maroon ottoman. His jaw drops as you walk toward him, and yet again, you feel the heat rise in your face. You continue walking toward him, turning at the last second with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side. “Finish doing me up?” you say, immediately realizing that could be taken in a way you didn’t really mean. But also kind of mean, if you’re being honest.

You hear him swallow and he stands, and feel his warm hand slowly grip the zipper and pull it up, his other hand resting gently on the back of your hip, this thumb barely squeezing at the muscle. He takes his time, moving the zipper at the slowest pace imaginable. “Everything alright back there?” you whisper over your shoulder, hearing your own voice tremble.

You hear the air push from his nose as he leans in a little closer. “Just taking my time… might be the only time I get to touch you this way…”

Your eyelids flutter closed at his words. You lick your lips, trying to calm your second heartbeat. “What makes you think this will be the only time?”

He finishes the zip, spinning you to turn and face him. He shrugs one shoulder. “Just don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he growls. “Take that as a compliment…if you wear that out in public, I wouldn’t stand a chance against the hordes of guys that would be following you around.”

You scoff at him, and the absolute absurdity of his statement. He has no idea how pretty he is, does he?

“Shh. That’s a lie,” you say as you turn back and motion for him to unzip you. He does, this time with a little more haste. You make your way back into the dressing room and switch back into your clothing, hanging the beautiful specimen back on the hanger the man had provided you with.

“What? You’re not getting it?!” Jake stands as you make your way back toward the employee.

“No, Jake! I can’t buy that! It’s too–”

“Perfect? Because you looked… I–I can’t even explain… You have to get it, Y/N,” he argues.

You hand the dress back to the man in the suit. “No. I wouldn’t even have anywhere to wear something like that…” you go on, internally screaming at how badly you really would like to have it.

“Let me get it for you, then,” Jake says. “It’s not even that expensive…”

“NO!” you squeal. “I mean, no thank you. Please, Jake. It’s completely fine,” you say as you begin to walk toward the exit. You simply could not let him buy this for you. No. Huh-uh. Absolutely the hell not.

He reluctantly follows you out of the store, still playfully going on and on about how you just made a huge mistake. You turn and face him, your face only inches from his. You grab both of his hands in yours, snickering a little at the surprised look on his face. “Jake, I appreciate the compliments, but I’d really like to get on with our date, now.”

JAKE POV

Her words send a shockwave through your system. “Date? So it’s a date now?” you ask, your hands cupped in hers as he looks you in the eyes.

She turns and begins walking again, and you have to physically tell yourself to move your legs and follow along. “You came to my door, asked me to go on a walk because you wanted to show me a certain specific special thing… now we’re exploring and talking and trying on dresses, I’d qualify this as a date,” she turns and gives you a teasing look of intrigue. “Just missing the food part, but I think it would still count.”

A smile comes to your lips as you realize she’s right. “You hungry?” you ask, finally catching up with her.

“No, I’m just kidding. Let’s go down to the riverside,” she points a little ways away, seeing that there is a sidewalk that runs alongside the water.

You stuff your hands in your pockets as you trudge along, the two of you taking in the scenery and the water beside you. The air is still blowing cold, but neither of you seem to mind. “So if we’re gonna qualify this as a date, maybe we should get to know each other a little better,” you suggest, earning a scoff from her.

“Seems a little backwards seeing as how we kinda already–”

“I know, I know,” you laugh. “Um, let’s see. Did you play any sports in school?” you ask.

“I played volleyball all four years, golfed with my dad on the weekends sometimes when he was around… Other than that, not really,” she explains.

“Shit, don’t tell Danny you like golf,” you go on. “He’ll capture you in a week-long conversation and then ask you to go play a round in every country we visit,” you laugh.

“Ummm, what’s your favorite holiday? And you can’t pick Christmas…” she says, pushing her pointer finger into your shoulder.

“Hmm, so, I think it’s a tie between the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving, because in July we’re always out of the country somewhere really beautiful, or we’re all at home blowing shit up together. I’m always really happy that time of year. And then Thanksgiving, because I will eat the fuck out of mashed potatoes any chance I get,” you say.

She laughs again, the sounds of her voice making your insides warm. “Your answer was better than mine!”

“Let’s see… What's your best friend’s name?” Noticing that she hasn’t really mentioned anyone.

“My best friend’s name is Ruth, we’ve been friends since elementary school. She’s… a complete idiot,” she laughs. “We still talk pretty much daily about anything and everything,” she explains. “Don’t have any secrets.”

“Oh so, she’s… getting the rundown of your whole European adventure in real time, isn't she?” you ask, wondering if she had been giving her a play by play of the whirlwind last few days you'd shared together.

She purses her lips and squints her eyes as her hand brushes past yours. “Guess you could say that…”

“Damn!” you laugh, feeling embarrassed. “Don’t tell me you included our bar bathroom escapade…”

Suddenly she’s tripping over her words. “I mean... No! I told her a little but like, not details or anything ya know, but she…I–”

“So she knows we almost hooked up but thankfully stopped just in time that my brother didn’t catch things getting too out of hand…” you say confidently, wanting to see the blush rush her cheeks again.

She stops, standing stiff in her place. “Okay, Jake. Caught me. Sue me, shit.”

You continue walking, pulling her along by the hand. “I’m kidding, I don’t care. I hope to meet her one day.”

She looks at you from the side of her eye, “I hope you do, too. Okay, who’s your best friend?”

“You really want me to answer that?” You’re surprised she can’t already tell. “I’ve got three built right in. All three pains in my ass but I love ‘em.”

“How sweet, Jake. Man, you do have a heart under there, somewhere!” she teases.

“Of course I do baby, I’m actually a sweetheart, didn’t you know?” you respond in a very piratical voice. “Alright, favorite music genre. This is the big one, answer carefully…”

“Ahhh, well…” she looks to the ground, truly contemplating her answer. “You already know the Alt-J stuff you added was way out of my normal choice, I actually listen to um, a lot of harder stuff, I guess you could say. Some metal, hard rock, also older country, some psych stuff. It runs the whole gambit,” she laughs, seeming like she was shy to admit it all.

“Wow,” you say. “So like, almost the exact opposite of what we’re into.”

“Kind of, I mean it probably overlaps… I love the stuff you’ve added to the list. And I’m sure there’s a few classic dad rock songs you like, don’t lie…” she smiles.

“Ehhh,” you argue, “Maybe a few…” you feel a sudden slight disappointment in the fact that the two of you probably will not be able to talk music much. But, that’s okay…

“Me and my dad used to go to rock shows a lot when I was a kid. I’ve seen all the country greats a few times a piece. Just something about that sound, you know? Reminds me of home, it’s very nostalgic… I’m sorry, I’m rambling…” she says, brushing the hair from her face as you find yourself enraptured in her words.

“No, no… it’s okay, ramble on…”

Light bulb.

You sneakily pull your phone from your pocket, adding that very song to the playlist, hoping she won't notice right off the bat, but hoping she will understand soon that you would listen to her ramble all day long. As she continues to talk, you can’t help but notice all the ways that she is so different from Isla. Like night and day. She listens to you when you speak, she doesn’t ever come at you with condescending words unless she’s being playful, she is sure of herself, and confident…and gives you that feeling down deep in your gut that tells you she’s something special. Though you’ve only known her a few days, it’s already obvious that she offers every single thing that Isla doesn’t, never has, and most likely never will. Instead of the uneasy, walking on eggshells feeling that you have everytime you’re with Isla, you get the confident, self-assured and joyful feeling in Y/N’s presence. And something is telling you to hold onto it.

Speaking of Isla… you really need to tell Y/N about her. It’s only right. It isn’t fair to her that she doesn’t have a clue, you wouldn’t have wanted to be left in the dark if the roles were reversed. You swallow, opening your mouth to start the conversation without having a clue where to even begin. But your thoughts are interrupted by Y/N’s sweet voice bringing you back down to earth again.

“I know you bargained for a short walk, but what if we went up there to that little pub and see what they have to offer?” she asks, smiling a toothy grin.

Maybe the time isn’t now…

“Lead the way, love.”

—

HER POV

Warm. Everything is just so warm. Your body, your face, his smile. Warm. The room is a dull hum of noise around you, your world growing still as he sits in front of you. You watch him in wonder as he talks about music and his passions, your face propped up on your fist. You know you must look positively smitten, and to be honest you kind of are. The two of you are giggling back and forth, even though nothing is really that funny. But that was the beauty of it. You can tell you are blinking slowly and try to reign it in as the nearly half a liter of beer swirls through your bloodstream. You can’t help but smile at him while he talks, his eyes locked on yours as a smile stretches across his own face.

You wonder how he is even able to hold a conversation right now, your brain reduced to mush as you continue to sip on your beer. He’s happy, you can tell, a dimple has appeared in his cheek and hasn’t left in nearly an hour. You can’t stop looking at it, at him. Everything about him. The twinkle lights over head have cast a perfect yellow glow on his tan skin, just as the sun starts to dip down below the river the two of you walked here from.

“You still with me, beautiful?” he asks, his knuckles brushing against yours.

“I’m here, but barely.” you laugh, “Why aren’t you feeling the alcohol yet?” you tease, taking a rather large gulp of your beer. You know he definitely has a higher tolerance than you do, but you can tell he is a little more smiley than usual. You place the large glass tankard back on the table as he stares at you, his eyes wide and sparkling.

“What?” you ask, feeling a bit bashful in your drunken state.

“You’re just…so– you’re just really pretty and it makes me feel, I don’t know, shy I guess,” he answers truthfully, biting his lips together nervously.

You feel your chest burst into flames, the heat radiating up your face to your already flushed cheeks.

“I like it when you blush,” he breathes, which of course makes you blush harder. “Like it best when it’s because of me.”

You feel all of your nervousness and anxiety melting away as he looks at you, and suddenly with the help of the beer, you feel brave enough to ask the question that has been on your mind all day.

“Jake?”

He nods his head ever so slightly, letting his fingertips drift across your knuckles.

“Why didn’t you answer? My song, how come you didn’t say anything?” you ask, swallowing down your last bit of nervousness.

He drops his head a little, grabbing your hand in his, letting his thumb skate across your skin. “I searched and searched for a song that I could respond with last night. One that would articulate what I wanted to say, but I just…I couldn’t find one. I felt like absolute shit after you left, Y/N. Really, I did. I fell asleep with that damn song on replay until my alarm went off this morning. It got in my head, and that’s when I decided I wanted to go on this walk today. Make it up to you.”

You stare at him for just a second, letting a smile slowly creep to your lips. He notices and you watch him as he visibly relaxes. He was nervous, too.

His eyes are locked on yours, both of you saying a thousand things with zero words. You let his words sink in, storing away each one until your heart feels a little bit lighter.

“Well, you better think of a good one tonight,” you tease, rubbing your thumb against his.

His phone buzzes on the table top, his eyes flashing down to it, then to you in panic.

“It’s fine,” you nod, gesturing for him to grab it. “I don’t mind, really.”

He picks it up and clears his throat, the loss of his hand from yours stings a little but you know he will do it again.

“From Josh,” he starts reading the message out loud, “Where are you? I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer.”

He smiles and laughs as his thumbs type back a response.

“Oh, another one,” he pauses, “We’re meeting up for dinner, just the guys, in an hour.”

His face drops a little, his eyes looking across the table to you. He locks his phone and sets it back on the table, his hand seeking yours out again.

“We should probably get going if you’re gonna make it back in time,” you offer, taking another sip of your beer.

He lets out a painful sigh, “I don’t really want to. I want to stay out…with you. I see them all the time.”

“No, no, no, you’re in Amsterdam with your brothers. They want to see you. Don’t change your plans around for me,” you insist.

He looks conflicted, you can tell he really does want to stay here with you, but he also knows he needs to meet up with them.

“Well, what about you? What will you do?” he asks, tracing his index finger around your hand.

You smile and shake your head, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll probably just go back to my room and do whatever it was I was going to do before you knocked on the door.”

He smiles and nods, licking his lips before speaking again, “If you’re sure, this is supposed to be me making it up to you for leaving you last night, now I seem to be doing it again.”

“Wanna know a secret?”

He raises his eyebrows in question, ready to hear your answer.

“I forgave you for that about two minutes into our walk,” you smile, squeezing his hand in yours.

—

He walks with you back to the hotel, his hand never leaving yours for a second. His grip is firm and warm, everything you ever dreamed of. You talk about the shops and the sights, and he tries again to convince you to buy that dress, bartering that he was going to have to go back and buy it himself if you refused.

As you step up to the hotel door you pause, turning and looking at him in the glow of the streetlights. “You don’t have to walk me all the way up, I think I can find it.” you tease.

“Alright, well, um, can I text you?” he asks, his tone reverting back to that of a nervous fifteen year old boy.

You feel the butterflies taking flight in your stomach, flapping their wings so hard you feel like you might take off with them. “Yeah, you can text me whenever you want to.”

A huge smile spreads across his face, “Yeah, alright, cool. I’ll um, I’ll text you then.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you answer, watching him stifle back his smile as he steps back a bit, bringing your hand to his lips. He places a soft and gentle kiss to the top of your hand, his cold lips barely grazing your skin, and sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“Won’t be long,” he smiles, stepping away and turning to head back down the street.

—

JAKE POV

You follow the walk route to the pin that Josh had dropped, finding yourself at a tiny pub down a back alleyway of a street. The place is crowded and warm, ambient lights with the damp smell of cigars lingering in the air. You mosy through the crowd, hoping that no one recognizes you and stops you for a drunken conversation or autograph.

Luckily it doesn’t happen, and you find Danny, Sam, and Josh tucked away at a high-top table in the corner. “There he is! Took you long enough!” Danny yells over the loud crowd, the first one of them to spot you.

The other two turn to face you, pulling your stool out for you to take. “Your beer is probably warm, now…sorry,” Sam says, pointing to yet another giant mug of beer, just the same as the one you’d just finished off.

“Fuck, thanks…” you say, tiptoeing to hop up onto the high stool. You simply can’t help the shit-eating grin that’s plastered across your face, even with all the maximum effort you have left in you. You take a large sip, finding the beer to still be fairly cold.

“Where have you been already today? You look flushed and far too jovial…” Josh presses, rubbing his hands together with his elbows resting on the table.

“Cold outside,” you say, shooting him a look.

The bullshitting and argumentative discussions commence as everyone obviously begins to feel their alcohol, and you take the distracted time out to text Y/N, letting her know you made it safely.

You

9:18PM: I’m here, but already wishing I never left

You attach a quick photo of your giant beer, and include the eye-rolling emoji.

Y/N

9:20PM: omg 😂 good luck choking another one down

You

9:21PM: Ye have little faith 🍺

A minute later you receive a photo of her room service sprawled out across the bed in front of her, chicken fingers and fries and some type of dipping sauce. You smirk at how cute she probably looks in whatever outfit she chose to get comfy in, and wonder what she looks like. You notice the TV in the background, and recognize the movie that she has playing.

You

9:24PM: Looks tasty

9:24PM: Damn, is that Wedding Crashers?

Y/N

9:25PM: Yes, I fucking love this movie

You run your hand over your face.

You

9:26PM: That sucks, I quite literally can’t stand that movie

Y/N:

9:26PM: 😱😱😱😱😱😱

9:26PM: You’re insane, this is one of my favorite movies of all time! Why do you hate it!

You

9:27PM: Dunno, not a sucker for cheap comedy I suppose

You’re interrupted by Sam’s snapping fingers in your face. “Hellooooo, Jake, you with us? Tell Isla to leave you the fuck alone, it’s guys’ night!”

You feel your eyes widen at his comment and glance at Josh, who is mirroring your exact expression behind his folded hands.

“Uh, sorry, sorry yeah.” You put your phone down on the table and try your best to be present with them, getting caught up in your normal absurd conversation. Your phone continues to light up and buzz on the table.

“You gonna get that?” Josh asks slowly and quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. You ignore him, finishing off the last bit of your beer that went down exceptionally quicker than you thought it would. Everyone is sufficiently intoxicated, and you have to admit, you’re having a really great time letting loose. The drinks are flowing, and the air is high-spirited all the way around. Danny is taking funny videos of Sam and Josh as they try their hand at some type of trick with a coin and a bottle cap, so you take the second to check your phone again. But what you see brings your serotonin level down just a notch.

Isla

10:12PM: Hey, what’s up?

10:27PM: Why aren’t you answering me babe :(

10:29PM: I miss youuuuu, you never called back last night

10:33PM: Saw Danny’s close friends story, glad to see you having fun ignoring my texts! 👋🏼

10:37PM: Can you accept my location request

10:42PM: I can see your phone in front of you Jake

You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet oh…my…god, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“What’s up?” Josh asks, and you turn your phone for him to see. His eyes instantly widen as he reads.

“This…is the shit I’ve dealt with for the last three years. I can’t—” you cut yourself off, feeling your jaw clenching with aggravation.

Josh settles back in his chair. “Fuck, I had no idea…”

“What, what is it?” Sam and Danny basically simultaneously ask, seeing the disdain falling over the both of you at the same time.

“Nothin’, just a sad video,” Josh lies.

You decide to let Isla’s antics roll off your shoulders; you’re having too good of a night to let her whining bring you down. Things with Y/N are starting to heat up, and you find your tipsy self teetering on the edge of risk. You pull her texts up again, finding that she had responded a while ago.

Y/N

9:30PM: You’re crazy, this movie is fuckin hilarious

You decide to change up the game a bit, adding a song that reflects exactly how you’re feeling right now. You scroll through your library and land on it, bringing up the option to add it to your shared playlist. It’s perfect, ‘In the Mood For You’ by The Record Company.

She responds with a text a minute later, a string of five or six laughing emojis. You’re then met with a song addition on her end, ‘Are You Sure?’ by Willie Nelson.

Holy shit holy shit. You feel your stomach get warm and your head starts to swim at the thought of where this could go, where you want it to go. You take a deep breath as the excitement builds in your system, and you can physically feel your body getting warm. You want to scream. Your eyes begin to cross a little as your thumbs hover over the screen, flicking around as you decide what to do.

The next thing you know, Sam is setting another beer in front of your face, this one thankfully much, much smaller than the other one you had just finished off. Mother fucker...Gonna be very drunk.

You decide to skip out on a text, keeping this little game the two of you have going. You pull up the song search, adding ‘No One Else’ by Weezer. Perfect.

Seconds later, you receive a text.

Y/N

10:56PM: I’ll think about it…….

You feel your cheeks grow pink.

Just then another comes through from Isla.

Isla

10:57PM: Ignoring me isn’t going to fix anything, Jacob.

You scoff, shaking your head. You turn the phone to Josh again.

“God, block her fucking number. I’m so serious,” his voice raises a little, laced with a protective tone.

You ignore it, flipping back over to your texts with Y/N, suddenly feeling emboldened.

You

10:59PM: Think about what, exactly?

You lick your lips as you set the phone down, glancing around to see no one paying attention to you all up in your phone again. A minute later, you receive a photo. You click the message and watch as the attachment comes to life.

It’s a selfie of Y/N sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a barely-there black silk pajama set, with the object of the photo obviously the empty side of the bed behind her.

Y/N

11:01PM: You, here.

Son of a fucking bitch, she is gonna be the death of you. You pull your phone up so no one can see the picture, and you take a second to stare at her soft skin in the silk material, her hair a little messy but lying perfectly. She’s smiling just a little, and the dim light is bouncing off her features in all the right areas.

You

11:03PM: Absolutely stunning

11:03PM: Are YOU sure?

Your heart is positively racing, watching as her text bubble pops up.

Y/N

11:04PM: Only if you want to…

As the breath hitches in your throat as you’ve quite literally forgotten how to breathe, you take a second more, starting in on the beer Sam had provided. You lock your phone, trying to make up your mind of how to answer. What to do, what to do…

You finally decide to reply with a bold text.

You

11:06PM: I think I can make that happen…😉

11:06PM: We shouldn’t be much longer

You get dragged back into conversation with the guys, and fifteen or so minutes later, everyone is gearing up to leave. You glance down at your phone a few minutes later, seeing that she hasn’t responded. Weird.

Everyone stands to leave, and the alcohol hits you in the face. Yeah, pretty fairly intoxicated. You exit the building, feeling someone standing behind, close by. You turn to see Dean bringing up the rear of the group. “Whoa, where did you come from you scary motherfucker?” you tease, earning a big, warm smile from him.

“Been sitting at the bar all evening, Mr. Jake,” he responds, pointing for you to catch up with the rest of them.

You rest a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re really good at your job, Dean. I never even knew you were there, should have come and had a drink with us.” You feel your words slurring a bit. Just then, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket incessantly.

“I wet my whistle with a shot of Jameson as soon as we got there, water the rest of the night,” he replies without looking at you. You laugh and step to the side a bit, pulling your phone out to see Isla calling. Fucking son of a bitch. You slide to answer it.

“What, Isla? Fuck!” your tone is a bit more harsh than you had expected, but warranted nonetheless.

Then, all you can hear on the other line is a rush of screams and yells, her voice loud and her words cramming as she lets you know how she feels. You pull the phone away from your ear, holding it there until you find a chance to speak again.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, can you–”

Her screams continue, and you realize exactly how this is going to go. How it’s gone hundreds of times before. She’s not gonna let you speak. And honestly, you’re too intoxicated to talk, anyway. You set it to speakerphone as Josh falls back to walk with you. You shake your head as you allow your twin to listen to her incessant rambling. “You hear this shit?” you mumble. The two of you listen for a second more before you realize you can’t do it anymore.

“Isla, I’m hanging the phone up. Call me when you can have a mature conversation. Bye.” You don’t even wait for her to retaliate before pressing the big red button. In a huff, you bring up your text thread to see if Y/N has responded. Like the gods of divine intervention decided to reign down their bad luck upon you, you find that you had in fact sent those last two risky texts, to Isla.

“FUCK!” you yell, stopping in your tracks, hitting your palm to your forehead. “Fuck fuck fuck!” How could you have been so stupid?! Of course she had a reason to call and yell at you…

Your fingers move to Y/N’s thread, and you see that you were the one who had left her on read. You’re in the lobby of the hotel now, and everyone is dispersing to head to the elevator or down the halls to their respective rooms. You snap away for a second to tell them goodnight, before deciding to take the stairs up to your room. You needed a second, and to work off some of your drunkenness.

You finally pop into your room, feeling completely idiotic for accidentally sending the right text to the wrong number. You splash some cold water on your face, hoping it will bring you back to earth a little bit, but finding it to have only made your splotchy face and tinted cheeks worse. You brush your teeth and take a piss, finally settling on the edge of your bed to think.

Fuck it, you finally decide, bringing up your texts with Y/N once more.

You

11:47PM: I think I can make that happen…

Surprisingly, she responds within the minute.

Y/N

11:47PM: Hey. Thought you had found someone else to sneak away to the bathroom…

Your nerves flush up all over again. We’re still in the clear.

You

11:48PM: Don’t be crazy fledgling. I’m finding you in 5 minutes.

HER POV

Five minutes? Five minutes! You stare at the screen for a few seconds before your brain starts to work again, giving you a mile long to-do list before he knocks on the door.

“What!? What! What does it say?! Hello! Why do you look panicked!?” Ruth asks from the other end of the phone.

“Oh my god, he’s coming to my room. Right now, he’s on his way right this second, holy shit I have to– I have to clean up! I need to brush my teeth, brush my hair? Shit, I can’t be wearing this! Oh my god, shit I do not have enough time!” you screech, tearing across the hotel room to clean up the best that you can.

“Focus on yourself first! He doesn’t care about your messy room! Put on some deodorant for the love of god! Did you shave your legs today?! Wait, did you end up bringing that little black sleep set thing we found?” she asks, trying to help you prioritize.

“Yes! I’m wearing it stupid! Can you not see me?!” you shout, the clocking continuing to tick by.

“Fuck off, it’s blurry! Okay just go brush your teeth, brush your hair, deodorant, then let's work on the room. Hurry up!”

You run into the bathroom, applying deodorant as quickly as possible and checking your legs for stubble. “I shaved this morning, but I think it’s fine.”

“Did you shave…everything?!” she asks, just as panicked as you are.

“Yeah, thank god!” you answer, wetting your toothbrush.

“Okay, game plan, keep brushing, just listen. He’s into you, you’re into him. He’s been flirting with you all night. He wants you babe, and if it were me? Well, I’d do it. I know what you’re gonna say, ‘Ruthie, I can’t give it up on the first date’, blah blah blah, I don’t care, fuck the police. He’s hot, you’re hot, you’re in Europe, and if you don’t sex that man tonight, you might not get the chance to again.” she lectures, giving you a stern look.

You spit your toothpaste into the sink, wiping your mouth and grabbing for your hair brush. You run it quickly through your hair as she continues. “God, I have got to know what this man is like in the bedroom. I am so living through you right now. I expect every detail first thing in the morning. Not noon, not three, morning.”

You grab your perfume from the bathroom counter and hold it up to the camera, “Should I, or too much?”

“Yes, you should, obviously! But don’t overdo it!” she yelps back. You spray the perfume onto your wrists, careful not to spray too much.

“Alright, I feel better, but do you think I should change? Honestly, I feel so…”

“What? Hot, sexy? Drop dead gorgeous? Didn’t have a problem with it when you sent that picture earlier, what's different now?” she asks.

“Well, nothing I guess, I just… He will see me in person. You can see my nipples!” you admit.

“I think he’s gonna see a lot more than your nipples tonight babe, that’s just the appetizer.” she laughs, crunching the ice from her drink.

“Oh my god you are so gross, okay, fine. I just need to clean up the room and little and–”

A knock at the door renders you both silent. You mouth the words ‘oh my god’, as she laughs silently.

“I’ll call you later,” you whisper, quickly ending the call and tossing your phone onto the dresser. You take a deep breath and smooth your hands over the black satin tank top, pushing your boobs up, but letting out a defeated sigh when they drop back into place. She better be right about this.

You blow out a calming breath as you make your way towards the door, twisting the handle and pulling the door open. Leaning against your door frame you find Jake, cheeks flushed and somehow looking even better than he did this afternoon. He’s in the same clothes, and his hair is windblown, but there is something different about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you file it away for later.

You purse your lips in a smirk, “You said five minutes.”

He smiles and nods, “I did, but I had to make a pit stop.”

“What for?” you ask, a playful tone to your voice.

You watch his eyes flick down to take in your appearance, his chest growing as he sucks in a deep breath, “Oh, you know…had to get something,” he pauses, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Did you make up your mind?”

You bite your lips together as you open the door a little wider, “Mmm, I thought about it…”

He steps forward, his foot on the threshold, “And?”

You instantly reach for his shirt, pulling him into the room and crashing your lips into his. He immediately takes control, leading you backwards and kicking the door shut with his foot. His hands have found your waist, sliding beneath the silky fabric of your top and gripping into your skin. He backs you into a wall, letting his warm lips drag across your jaw as his hands continue to explore the soft skin of your stomach. It’s not long before his lips are back on yours, the taste of alcohol still lingering on his tongue.

His knee slides between your legs, parting them just enough to be able to press himself closer to you. Your arms lace around his neck, your hands tangling into his soft hair, as his hips press into yours. The sound of your lips on his is wet and desperate, the two of you devouring each other where you stand. His tongue slides into your mouth in search of yours, the two of you quickly picking up where you last left off.

You can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket as it presses against your leg, an incessant buzz that drags your attention away from his lips.

“You wanna get that?” you ask, whispering against his lips.

“No,” he growls, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Probably the groupchat, I’m tired of them interrupting.”

He pulls the two of you from against the wall, walking you backwards towards the bed as his lips pepper kisses up and down your jaw. He tosses you down towards the bed, the fluffy white sheets pooling around your body. His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you, his cheeks still red from what you thought was the cold, but now know is the alcohol flowing through his system. His chest is heaving as he stares down at you, taking in every single inch of your body. You can feel the primal need radiating from him, and you remind yourself to thank Ruth for not letting your change into something else.

You can hear that his phone is still buzzing, and with a huff of aggravation he pulls it from his pocket and taps on the screen a few times before throwing it onto the nightstand. He drops to his hands, hovering over you as his shirt hangs from his body. You keep your eyes locked on his as you unbutton the buttons, letting your hands run up his stomach and over his chest.

His lips drop back down to yours, this kiss a little slower and a little more intentional, you can feel that he wants you, and you hope he can tell that you want him just the same. He hums against your lips, the evidence of his need starting to show through in his voice. You let your hands push the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders and he assists by tossing it to the floor. His necklaces hang between the two of you, the pendants cold as they rest against your chest.

His hand comes up to swipe at the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it delicately over your shoulder while letting his eyes meet yours. You nod your head just enough to give him permission, letting him repeat the action with the other side.

He brings his palm to rest on the side of your neck, his fingertips brushing lightly against your skin before he drags his palm down your body, pushing the soft black fabric down your chest.

“This what you wanted?” he hums, dragging his fingertips over your sternum. “When you sent me that little picture? Wanted to get me all worked up thinking about you in this? Thinking about you, out of this?”

Your nipples harden just at the sound of his voice, deep and rich, a gentle slur from the alcohol. He is pure sex as you look up from beneath him.

“Might’ve been…” you answer, biting your bottom lip nervously.

“Don’t do that,” he says, pulling your lip with his thumb. “Own it. Take what you want.”

A smirk is planted on his lips, his hair hanging around his face as he looks down at you. You decide to do exactly what he says, reaching down to the hem of your top and pulling it up and over your shoulders. His eyes drop down to your chest, now completely exposed to him, the lust almost visible in his dark eyes.

“Shit…” he breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.

He slots his knee between your legs, crawling forward a little bit more and dropping down to his elbows over top of you. His lips connect with your chest, sucking a long wet kiss into the roundness of the skin. You squirm beneath him, the feeling of his lips on your body more than you can handle in the moment. He drags his lips down your body, stopping as he meets the hem of your shorts.

“Smell so fucking good…You’re so soft, everywhere… Have half a mind to have you like this,” he pants, pressing his lips to your skin again.

“Come back,” you plead, needing to feel his lips on yours.

He moves quickly, grabbing your face with his hand and pressing his lips to yours. You reach between the two of you, your hand unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning the button on his pants. He groans as your hand slips into the waistband of his boxers, gently grazing the stubbly trimmed hair at his base. His eyes flick open to meet yours, almost as if he is surprised you’re doing what he told you to do. You stare at him, waiting for him to tell you to stop, but he doesn’t. You have the answer you need.

You press further, reaching for him, but surprisingly finding him still mostly soft. His eyes widen a little, and his head drops just a touch. You can tell he knows, and it’s caught him a little off guard.

You decide to take matters into your own hands, smiling back at him, “Roll over.”

He looks up, a small grin on his lips as he rolls to his back, landing in the empty spot you photographed earlier. You move to place yourself between his legs, reaching for the top of his pants and pulling them and his boxers down over his legs. He kicks them off and you toss them to the floor, taking in the sight of him completely naked in front of you. His chest is heaving as he looks at you, a grin on his shiny pink lips as he watches you slide your hands up his thighs.

“I know I already told you this, but you’re so fucking pretty I can’t seem to think straight.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot, the way he’s looking at you and the words falling from his mouth have your heart pumping harder than it has in years.

“And god when you blush like that, fuck…”

You crawl forward a bit more, positioning yourself over him to straddle his waist. You lower yourself to a sitting position, letting him guide your hips to rest your body weight where he wants it. His hands grip into your hips, sliding under the silky fabric still covering your lower half. His thumbs rub circles into your hip bones, your hips rolling on their own accord against his. A hum leaves his chest as his eyes flutter closed, clearly enjoying his view and the feeling of you beneath his hands.

You reach for his hand, grabbing his wrist and guiding his palm to rest over your chest, letting his fingers grip into the soft fullness beneath it. He palms at your breast as you continue to rock your hips over his. His mouth opens just a bit as he focuses on you, slowly bringing his other hand to rest over your other breast. His grip is firm and warm, not too rough. A hum of pleasure leaves his lips every few seconds as he drinks in the moment, but still yet he is considerably soft beneath you.

You lean forward into his hands, letting your lips brush against his neck, your tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up the column of his neck. His grip tightens and his hips buck upward into yours. You’ve got him where you want him now.

You pull away from him, moving backwards on the bed until you are hovering right above his dick. Your eyes flick to his, dark and boiling over with want as you lower your face closer to him. You grab him in your hand, feeling that he is still not truly hard enough to do anything with, but you still had a few more ideas yet.

��Can I?” you breathe, whispering the words against his soft pink tip. You bat your eyes at him, “Please?”

You watch his chest rising and falling quickly, his heart rate sky high as he watches you. “Been dreaming about it.”

You let your tongue glide over his tip, warm against your mouth as your eyes stay locked on his. You wrap your fist around his base and let your mouth sink down over him, running your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You can’t help but wonder why he isn’t rock hard at this point, his body giving you every single cue that he wants you, apart from this one.

His hand swipes the hair away from your face as you take him, feeling him growing just the slightest bit harder as his tip grazes the back of your mouth. You pull off of him just enough to speak, letting your wet lips brush his tip. “That okay?”

“Yes, fuck yes, I just–”

You grip your hand into his thigh as you shush him, “Shhh, I know, I’m not done.”

You take him down again, bobbing your head back and forth at a steady pace as his breathing starts to pick up. His skin is clammy under your hands and his chest is heaving as he watches you take him as far as you can.

Your brain starts to wander as you taste him, his natural musky smell translating to the taste of his skin. Maybe he drank too much? Or maybe you’re just bad at this. He should be hard by now. Maybe he doesn’t really want you like you thought.

A groan leaves his lips and his hips buck up, forcing him further down your throat. “Fuck…”

Okay, that's definitely not it. He has been falling all over you for days, it has to be something else.

His hand grips into your hair as his hips buck upwards again. “Feel so fuckin’ good baby, shit. Perfect little mouth, knew it would be.”

You let your eyes flick up to his, staring at him as his tongue rests between his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but for some reason, it’s just not working. His brow furrows in anger, and you watch as his demeanor shifts, frustration taking him over.

You pull off him, his dick harder than when you started, but still fairly soft. You don’t know how hard he normally is, but it has to be more than this. Right?

“Jake, we don’t have t–”

He shakes his head, “Mmm, you know what? Come up here beautiful, come lay down for me.”

You do as he says, part of you sad to think that maybe you weren’t doing it for him, but you push the thoughts aside, swapping places with him as he adjusts the pillow beneath your head. He bends to kiss you, pulling away for just a second before pressing his lips to yours again much quicker.

“So fucking pretty, all of you. But especially that mouth,” he smirks.

He hooks his fingers into your shorts, pulling them and your panties off in one swift movement. You are bare before him, his eyes widening as he takes you in, finally getting a reaction from his dick. He fists it up and down a few times as he looks at you, “Can I touch you, baby?”

You nod quickly, letting him spread your legs apart with his free hand. A growl leaves his chest as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “So gorgeous, shit…”

His thumb swipes up through your wetness, circling your clit a few times causing you to squirm beneath him.

“Jake…” you gasp.

His eyes meet yours, “Yeah? You like that? You’re so beyond wet, sweetheart.”

Your hips twist and turn beneath his touch, every angle proving to be more stimulating than the last. You whine, a string of curses and muffled versions of his name falling from your lips.

“You…” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “Are everything I thought you would be. More, even.”

“Jake, please, I– I need–”

He pulls away from you quickly, his hand still fisting his cock as he reaches for his wallet on the floor. He pulls a condom from the pocket inside, tearing the foil packet open as he kneels back onto the bed.

“Let me!” you urge, stopping his wrist, “I mean, please, can I do it?”

His eyes flick up to yours in surprise, “Yeah baby, you can do it. You can do whatever you want, swear to god.”

You grab the latex between your fingers, pinching the tip and rolling it over his cock. It's hard enough now that putting the condom on is fairly easy, but you’re positive he was even harder than this in the bathroom last night. You roll it to his base, letting your hand drift back up and over his chest before circling it around his neck. His hands grip your waist as his lips meet yours again, his tongue circling with yours as he moves you back towards the pillows, gently lowering your body to the bed. “Want you so bad, Y/N.”

“So have me,” you breathe, barely letting your lips leave his.

You welcome him between your legs, feeling his hand reach down to fist his base, gliding himself through your wetness. In only a matter of a minute his dick is softer than it was, and both of you know it, but neither of you are willing to acknowledge it.

His phone starts to buzz on the nightstand, both of you looking towards it. He doesn’t pay it any mind, letting it buzz on the wooden table until it stops.

“Look at me, baby, don’t mind that,” he demands.

You feel him press his tip to your entrance, his eyes fixed on yours. He furrows his brow as he presses his hips forward, but you feel nothing. Your eyes flick down between the two of you, finding that he can’t seem to get hard and stay hard enough to get it in. You feel a pang of hurt run through your chest, almost like rejection, but somehow a little worse.

“Jake, are you not hard en–”

“Just give me a second, I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he growls, his attention turning to the still buzzing phone on the nightstand.

“I mean, I can give you head again if you think–”

“No, Y/N, I just– I just need a second, I’ll be fine,” he says. You can hear the anger in his voice, not at you, but at himself.

“Is it me?” you ask, running your fingers up his arm that is next to your head.

“Fuck no. You are everything I want, wet as fuck and gorgeous, no, it’s not you. I want you, I really fucking want you,” he says, stroking himself a few more times. “Alright…”

He repositions himself at your entrance, and this time you can feel him, he’s harder now, enough to slide into you, but still it’s only just enough to slip inside.

Even half hard he is bigger than the last guy you were with, the stretch as he presses into you making that abundantly clear.

“Oh Jesus Christ, you are so tight,” he pants, his dick hardening a little at the tight fit.

You slide your hands around his waist, pulling him down a little further as he starts to move his hips, “Oh goddamn…”

His phone buzzes twice on the nightstand as he starts to pump into you at a steady pace, but you ignore it, letting the overwhelming feeling of him moving inside of you take precedence in your brain.

He groans through closed lips, his brow furrowed in concentration as he slides in and out of you. He rolls his hips as he thrusts into you, a whine leaving your lips as your back arches.

“Motherfuck, you are–” he stops, regaining his composure, “Tightest fuckin’ pussy.”

Your hands grip into his sides as he picks up speed, his hips slamming into yours as both of you start to lose yourselves in the moment. Finally things felt normal, things felt good, way too good. You wanted this, you needed this, and fuck if he wasn’t checking every box you’d ever had.

He cups your cheek in his hand, dusting his thumb over your swollen lips just as you part them to suck it in. You watch his eyes roll back in his head as he starts to pant, and you can tell he is dangerously close to his finish.

You start to speak, ready to change positions but as you open your lips to release his finger, his phone rings, buzzing quickly across the table as the sound plays through the speakers.

“God fucking damnit!” he growls, “What the fuck!”

“Take it Jake, it’s fine, just– answer and they’ll leave you alone.” you urge, looking to the black phone skittering across the table.

“No, fuck no.” he snaps, his hips emphasizing his point. “I’m busy,”

The buzzing stops, and he looks back to you, letting his hand drift down to your chest. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, letting his lips meet yours. His kiss is wet, and desperate, his hips starting to falter as they move in messy strokes above you.

You can tell he needs to cum, his body racing closer and closer with every half hard stroke of his dick. You can also tell he is fighting it, his face is red, and his hairline sweaty. You know it will be seconds, if that, until he is tumbling into his release.

His eyes flick to yours in panic, an almost apologetic look on his face as he breathes, “Baby, I’m, fuck—”

As if right on cue, his phone starts to buzz, the ringtone blaring through the speakers as his hips stutter, slamming into you again as he looks at his phone on the table. His head snaps back to you, sucking in a deep breath of panic as his hips stop, his cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with a guttural moan.

The fucked out look that takes over his face is like nothing you’ve ever seen. Reminiscent of a Renaissance painting, the features of his face twist into such a blissful expression that he almost looks like he’s in pain. He’s beautiful, there is absolutely no doubt about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just came, way, way too soon.

You are in shock as you lay beneath his panting body, feeling him grow soft inside you once again. He pushes up to his hands nearly instantly, his face riddled with remorse as he realizes what exactly just happened. “Y/N–”

His phone buzzes again, for what has to be the sixtieth time in the last five minutes, a snap of anger washing through you. “Are you going to fucking get that?”

He mumbles a curse under his breath as he pulls out of you, the condom full as he looks at it in shame. He covers himself with his hand as he snatches the phone off of the nightstand and makes his way to the bathroom. You can feel the embarrassment swirling through the air as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on.

You grab the sheet at your feet and pull it up over your naked, unsatisfied body, trying to wrap your head around what exactly just happened. You try to catch your breath, the sound of your breathing filling the room but quickly drowned out by Jake’s phone ringing. This time though, he answers.

“Hello?!” he shouts, his anger apparent. “Yeah I’ve seen him fucking calling, I have been busy goddamnit!”

You hear the sink turn off and the toilet flush, followed by the sound of his footsteps walking back into the room. “Yes, I will call him, Jesus Christ, don’t ever blow my shit up like that again,” he snaps, ending the call. He pauses as he walks, a hand towel in his grip as he taps his phone screen.

You hear another call ringing out, but this time he's the one doing the calling. He walks over to you with the phone on speaker phone, a look of sadness on his face as he slowly approaches the edge of the bed. He sits next to you and reaches for your hand just as the person answers.

“Hey, man, been trying to call you.” the man's voice says, a tone of urgency present.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I was caught up for a second. What’s up, what’s going on?” Jake answers, rubbing his hand along your arm.

He turns to look at you mouthing ‘guitar tech’ as he hands you the damp towel. You make quick work of it, wiping yourself off but knowing you’ll be taking a shower as soon as possible. You throw it across the room as he snickers, waiting for Johnny to answer.

“Listen man, I’m at the venue, trucks just arrived and we are doing load out. One of the stage left Marshall cabinets split in transit. Wiring harness is fucked. Amp is…the amp is not looking good man.”

You see Jake stiffen, “What?”

“Huge gash in the backside, must have fallen or something, I tried to fuck with the wiring as best as I could, it’s not getting any signal right now, man.”

“Holy fuck,” he groans, standing quickly from the bed and gripping into his hair. “No signal? Did you try a direct line in?”

You cut your eyes wondering how he managed to sober up so quickly in the last three minutes.

“Yeah, even DI there’s no signal, just static. Powers’ on, but she’s DOA. Gonna have Mark take a look at it too, but I don’t have high hopes,” he continues.

“Is there anything we can do? How the fuck are we supposed to get a replacement amp and cabinet by tomorrow?” Jake asks, his voice laced with panic.

“We can make some calls, I know a guy with some leads. What are the chances of you coming down here to take a look at it? Maybe I’m completely missing something, man. Hoping it's a quick fix. Need your signature for the insurance waiver, too.”

“Can it wait until morning?” he asks, a pained look on his face.

“Probably shouldn’t, especially if we are looking for a replacement locally.”

He turns to look at you, and you can tell he is conflicted. You bite your lips together and nod your head. This is his job after all.

He runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh, “Yeah, yeah, I um– I can be there in a bit. I just need to wrap something up here, and I’ll be there. See if you can get in touch with Hamstead, I’m sure they have a loaner we could use for tomorrow at the very least.”

“Will do man, hey sorry about this, I don’t know what happened, maybe it wasn't strapped down or–”

Jake is quick to cut him off, “It’s fine, not your fault. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yep, see you then,” he says, ending the call.

He tosses his phone on the nightstand before dropping his head into his hands. “This night has been…”

He turns to look at you, letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what the fuck it’s been, fuck, I just…”

You can tell he is flustered, he can hardly form a sentence. “Listen, I get it. It’s fine, just go do what you need to do. It’s okay, really.”

He nods as he stands up from the bed, walking around the front to start grabbing for his clothes. He doesn’t say much as he dresses, and he will hardly look at you. You don’t really know why, but you can imagine he is feeling a little bad about himself and his performance at the moment. You still haven't let yourself process what exactly happened with the two of you just now, but you will, soon.

He re-buttons his shirt, pulling his hair up into a hair tie as he lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry about this. I really am, this is the absolute very last thing I want to do right now, especially after… that. But I have to, and I don’t want you to think that I want to because–”

“Jake. I get it. Just go, it’s fine,” you say calmly, hoping he will believe you.

He grabs his phone and his wallet and shoves them into his pants pocket, kneeling on the bed towards you. He leans in to kiss you, but his lips don’t land on yours, instead missing your mouth completely. A new rush of secondhand embarrassment washes through you, and right now you think him leaving is probably the best thing he could do.

He curses himself as he stands up shaking his head in defeat as he swallows back his embarrassment. He walks towards the door with a hand in his pocket, turning to you just before stepping out, “I’ll uh…I’ll text you, I guess, I don’t know, fuck. Have a good night, Y/N.”

The door slams behind him and suddenly the room is silent. No heavy breathing, no pitchy moans, and no ringing phones. Just pure silence.

You stare at the wall for a full five minutes, the muted TV flashing colors against your skin. You can’t conjure a thought. Not a single one. Nothing other than what the fuck was that?

You want to call Ruth. You want to call her and tell her everything, but you also don’t even know what you would say. Something like ‘Hey Ruth, just had the worst two minutes of sex of my life? Oh did I mention he was barely hard? And I couldn’t get him hard? And that his phone rang the entire time? And that he came in two minutes? And I didn’t finish at all? And then he had to leave as soon as he finished? And now I’m sitting alone and naked in my hotel room?’ Yeah, you needed to sit on this one for a minute. Your eyes catch sight of the flower laying on the dresser, now looking a little bit limp and lifeless but still beautiful no less. You feel a pang run through your chest, tearing your eyes away from it so as not to taint that moment earlier with this one.

You rip the sheets from your body and make your way to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it will go before stepping inside. You let the steaming hot water clear your mind and ease your tense muscles, washing away the scent of his cologne that is lingering on your skin.

You wrack your brain for answers, though you can hardly come up with anything that makes sense. There’s just no fucking way he is actually terrible in bed. We had so much chemistry, the electricity between us was nearly electrocuting you. He felt so good last night. We were so in sync last night. This had to be a fluke, right? You’ve seen him with his guitar on stage, where was that?!

You lather your skin in your body wash, rinsing away the remaining evidence that this night ever happened. After the best afternoon with him, why was he so off tonight? He barely seemed like himself. Maybe he really did have too much to drink.

You tried to put yourself in his shoes. If the roles were reversed and it was your phone blowing up like that, you probably would have been a little distant too. But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t stay hard. That was a mystery to you, and you really hoped to god it was the beers and not you. You know he was so much harder last night, you know he was. You felt it. So what happened between last night and tonight?

Something. You knew that much.

You turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel, letting your mind wander with possibilities, trying to convince yourself that what he showed you tonight was not who he really was. You sat back down on the bed you just shared with him, thinking back to that few seconds where things were good. And it was good, it felt good, he felt good. There was no denying those few seconds. But the rest of it, well, that was still up for debate.

You grab your phone and tap the screen, the display reading 1:02AM. There are no texts from Jake, though you didn’t really know what you expected him to say.

From the little you know about him, when he left here tonight the confidence he naturally exudes was gone, not even in the same building. You knew he would reach out, but only when he was ready and knew what to say. But until then…

You toss your phone on the bed next to you, quickly changing into a clean pair of pajamas and curling back up into the bed. You lay there staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how you are going to handle things tomorrow. You would be with him the entire day, and you didn’t want to make him feel worse than he likely already did.

You go back and forth with yourself until you land on something sturdy: You won’t say anything, you won’t do anything. You’ll act completely normal. The same as you have for the last few days. You decide to tear this page from the book and move forward. This never happened.

Deep down you know there was something holding him back from being fully present with you tonight, but what that is you’ve yet to discover.

—

JAKE POV

The early morning finds you facedown on your bed, still fully clothed, one boot kicked off into the floor, the other still completely on your foot. The sun is far from being up, and you’re thankful that you still have a few hours before its rays beat in through your window. The bustle of the awakening city is loud on the streets below you, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to stay in this exact position for the rest of the day. For the rest of your life, actually. Maybe, if you bury yourself under these blankets and pillows, everyone will forget about you. Isla will forget about you. Y/N will forget about you, about everything, about last night. It will be like it never even happened. It will be like the most amazing buildup to what could have been a night of pure electricity didn’t take an absolute nose dive into one of the most embarrassing things to have ever happened to you. You’d take tripping on stage a million times over this. Pure. Humiliation.

Yeah, right here, in this bed. Under the pillows. They can’t find you here.

What the fuck even happened?! Whiskey dick was an understatement. It didn’t even begin to explain what you…experienced. Unable to perform for the most beautiful new thing that has happened to you. Everything was perfect, she was perfect… her confidence was enamoring, her head was off the charts good, and fuck, for the few seconds you had things actually going, it was pure ecstasy. She was soaked for you. Her sounds, her face… fuck. It all came flooding back to your brain, even the way she smelled still stuck in your mind. She wanted you, just as badly as you wanted her. Just the thought of it had you standing at attention all over again, at full force this time, though. And you’d let her down.

You sit up and roll yourself over. “Where the fuck were you last night, huh? Let me the fuck down!” you audibly yell at what was happening in your still-belted jeans. You force your face back into the comforter, realizing now that a horrific hangover is on the horizon. Your head is busting in two already, not like you already didn’t feel like shit on a boot.

Staying here, under the pillows until sound check. Right here. Not moving. Hiding.

You know that’s not realistic, though. You contemplate texting her, but what the fuck do you even say? You couldn’t even satisfy her, and ended up satisfying yourself, way too fucking soon. What had you lasted, two minutes? Three max? Like a fucking 16 year old kid. God, what a fucking tool. She probably thinks you’re a horrible lay. You know you’re better than that.

You groan hard into the sheets below you, feeling the metallic taste of a hangover in your mouth. You need a gallon each of water, orange juice, and black coffee, stat. And probably like, nine pieces of the butteriest toast you can find. And probably a shower, yes, a shower. And a straightjacket, for how absolutely insane you feel.

Damnit, the amp. Luckily, the rental was in the works of being en route last night, so you feel just a little bit better about that, at least. It won’t be your baby, but it will sound okay.

You roll and find your almost-dead phone underneath your chest, blinking your eyes as the screen brightens. Nothing. Not even Isla. Good. No one wants you. You can stay here, hidden in your burrow, until you absolutely can’t anymore.

You’ve gotta say something, anything to her, to start this process that you want to stay millions of miles away from. But the first step to healing is admission, so you go ahead and take it.

You

5:31AM: I’m sorry.

You watch as the message is delivered to her, seeing the string of foreplay texts and her photo still sitting in the chat. She’s so gorgeous, how could you have fucked up this badly? Your first chance to show her how you feel and you fumble this hard?

Though there were many factors playing into it, at the very deepest darkest part of your mind, you know why. You know exactly why. Guilt isn’t an emotion you let yourself feel very often, and this morning, you find yourself grasped in the wrath of it. The double-edged sword of your current situation with two separate women is proving to be more intertwined than you’d anticipated, or even foresaw. What you want is clear, though. And you’re determined to get a second chance, no matter how rocky and uncomfortable the road to that chance may be.

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amberskyyking · 3 months ago

Text

It’s Fox Day so have a fluffy lil Corrie Guard Talent Show story I wrote based on this post featuring a bunch of my talented writer friends OC’s and Fox trying so hard to develop better mental health patterns and so so many hugs 🥰❤️🦊

Ten Out Of Ten

7k words! Click the title for the AO3 link. @corrieweek TW: Suicidal thoughts mentioned, KMS joke and general implied past abuse and decom, but things are better and they’re healing now ❤️‍🩹

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“I’m going to fucking-”

Stitch’s eyes snapped to Fox’s face the moment he started mumbling those words under his breath, and he cut himself off. Kill myself, was what he wanted to say, but he wasn’t supposed to make jokes like that was he? They’d talked about this at length after the war was over, after the Senate voted to declare clones were Sentient in an upset he still wasn’t sure he believed really happened. Their newfound position was so fragile, even if the decom orders he shielded them from for years had been stopped. His vode weren’t expendable anymore, there were consequences for abusing them now that Fox had the right to enforce, but the sense that all those protections could be ripped away had seeped deep into his bones. Fox hadn’t been able to protect them before, his efforts hadn’t been enough, he wasn’t enough! Palpatine might be gone, but Fox couldn’t shake the icy dread that he would see those leering yellow eyes around every corner, hear that cruel voice disguised with grandfatherly patience threatening his vode if Fox didn’t comply, feel the sudden pang of lightning sear across his skin -

“Fox,” Stitch said his name in a hard tone, snapping him out of the spiraling thoughts for a moment. “Stop that.”

Right. Fox took a breath.

Stitch had a point, he knew he did, as much as he hated to admit it a couple of weeks ago when he made his last ill-timed joke passing by a familiar spire. Jokes like that only reinforce negative thought patterns, Stitch had snipped. It’s not funny, it’s only making your damn mental health worse and it’s going to give me a fucking aneurysm one of these days if you don’t knock it the hell off!

The reminder filled him with a new wave of guilt. His poor CMO could never trust Fox wasn’t serious about those sort of things, and Fox honestly couldn’t blame him, but Stitch already had to put up with so much. Now Fox was adding to it. Maybe it would be better if he just-

“I’m serious, Fox,” Stitch snarled. “Want to try that again?”

Fox scowled at the floor. He was trying to do better, he really was, he had to, for his brothers sake. He’d promised them he would, even if he didn’t understand why they still bothered, now that the primary threat to their existence was gone. But Stitch was still glowering at him expectantly. Thorn and Thire had gone quiet too, right in the middle of their own conversation. Great. Now they were all concerned again, just because of his bad coping skills. Fox looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember what Stitch had said to do with thoughts or jokes like that instead, even if it was just to appease them. Just say something different, right? Something positive or funny or ridiculous?

He let out an exasperated sigh and blurted out the first load of nonsense that popped into his head. “I’m - I’m going to put on the best talent show Coruscant has ever seen,” Fox muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm.

There was a pause, and Fox felt a flush creep up his neck. Where the hell had that come from? It wasn’t even really funny, it was just ridiculous, Thorn and Thire were bound to give him shit, and -

“Wait seriously?” Thorn jumped up eagerly from his spot on the floor. “We can do that?”

Thire’s eyebrows shot straight into his hair. “I ah. Think the Commander was joking, vod.”

“But we could?” Thorn pressed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with a huge sparkling grin on his face.

Fox blinked a couple times at his vod’ika with a pit in his stomach. Thorn had to be joking too, didn’t he?

“Cause I had this idea, there’s this song I found that I want to make a routine with Lowkey to and -”

“Isn’t that what the holonet is for?” Thire chuckled.

“Trust me, this would be so much better live! I could - No wait, can’t say. That would be a huge spoiler!”

Both troopers looked excitedly at Fox, and his heart dropped. Kriff. This wasn’t a complication he was prepared to deal with, not today.

“I…” He gulped, trying to stall, trying to think of any way to tell them no, it wasn’t possible, they didn’t have the resources or the time… But it was useless. He couldn’t stand to see their faces fall if he could help it, not after everything the Guard had been through for so long. If they wanted to do something like that so badly he would find a way, he… He could never say no to them. Not with enthusiasm like that, not when they were looking at him like that!

“Sure,” He caved, cursing himself internally as he did. “We can have a… A talent show.”

Thire gasped, Thorn let out a whooping cheer, and Fox had to grin in spite of himself, at least until Stitch snorted from behind him. Fox shot a tired glare back at his CMO, who didn’t look sorry in the slightest, in fact he looked downright pleased. Stitch had to know exactly what just happened in Fox’s head, and this whole self-esteem issue he was constantly pestering Fox about had just taken a turn that his vod’ika couldn’t have planned better if he tried. It wasn’t like Fox could really regret it, though. Thorn had already lit up like a life day tree, sending frantic comms to Lowkey with ideas for their next routine, and Thire wore a thoughtful little grin on his face that Fox could have melted at.

“What are you going to do for it, sir?” Thorn asked suddenly, looking up from the comm he had been typing out.

“I’m not competing,” Fox said automatically.

“Whaaat?” Thorn frowned.

“Why not?” Thire said in bewilderment. “It’s your idea!”

“What would I even do?” Fox exhaled, shaking his head. “I don’t have any special talents.”

“Sure, vod. You just killed the Sith, ended the war and set us all free, that was a normal Benduday,” Thorn snarked.

“That wasn’t all me… And how exactly would I do any of that on stage?” Fox protested.

Thorn opened his mouth to offer up what was sure to be some sort of insane suggestion, but thankfully, Stitch came to Fox’s rescue.

“He told you you could have the show, that’s enough,” Stitch snapped. “I karking swear, if you try to hijack his sleep schedule just to make him prep for some damn act, you’ll be seeing my special talents in the med bay first hand!”

That made the pair of them back off, but it didn’t seem to damper their excitement for the thing, which was good. Fox let out a breath as they shrugged in acceptance and got back to their conversation from before, this time with giddy little grins on their faces.

This… This couldn’t hurt, could it? If the idea was making Thorn and Thire this happy, it would probably be good for the rest of his men, too. Fox wasn’t the only one who struggled, maybe they could all use the boost. He would still make sure it was closed to anyone but the Guard, to be safe, even if the galaxy was nominally safer for them already. Outsiders seeing his vode in the spotlight was still a risk he wasn’t willing to take, but they could keep this small, just celebrate a few of his brothers who he loved so much and remind them of their worth. He could manage that.

Stitch slung an arm across Fox’s back as he started thinking it all through, and Fox automatically pulled him into a hug, letting out a deep sigh.

“It’s a good idea, vod,” Stitch told him softly. “I’m proud of you. You caught yourself, you’re forming better patterns already, that’s progress. But this isn’t going to fuck up your sleep.”

“Someone has to plan all this,” Fox reminded him, but Stitch shook his head as he pulled back to look Fox in the eye.

“Yeah. Someone. Not you,” His CMO told him pointedly, mouth twisting into a wicked smirk. “Either you let me handle this or you go down to one shift a day, don’t try me. We have rights now, thanks to you, so you can’t work more than your doubles or I’ll fucking report it.”

“This wouldn’t be work related-“

“It could be,” Stitch threatened with glee, and Fox let out a half-hearted scoff. That wasn’t even fair. His brothers needed those protections in place, but Fox hadn’t considered how Stitch might use those new laws against him, too.

“Fine,” He bit out. “If you’re sure, but if you need anything, tell me. I should still be involved.”

“It’s your own damn show, you’ll have a role,” Stitch shot back, but his eyes were soft, and Fox nodded. It was settled, then. For better or worse, Fox really was going to kill himself put on the best fucking talent show Coruscant had ever seen.

---

It might have been Fox’s half-baked, sarcastic suggestion to throw the talent show in the first place, but Stitch stayed true to his word and took charge of the whole production so Fox wouldn’t work himself into the ground trying to do it all it himself. He still wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or put off by the help. This really was something he could have handled on his own, he used to pull triple or quad shifts, the doubles were already a massive improvement and adding the show to his plate really wouldn’t have been pushing himself more than he had before. Pointing that out Stitch again later that night, though, proved to be a mistake, as the CMO kindly offered to break his fucking legs and throw the bone knitter off the goddamn Rotundra if he tried to go back on their agreement now… So Fox let Stitch handle coordinating the thing, went to bed, and hardly slept, but at least he tried.

Fox had barely begun his first shift when it became clear word had spread and clones on and off duty all started acting strangely. He had only pictured a small gathering in his head, something held quietly in the barracks or the mess, far from prying eyes, but the more excited vode he encountered throughout the day the less that seemed like a viable option.

Thorn and Lowkey passed Fox as he left the barracks that morning, both of them soaking wet, squelching in their boots and giggling like kriffing cadets. They froze when they saw Fox and tripped all over their promises to clean up the mess before Fox let them go. Only a couple hours later, Lefty’s pet tooka somehow got stuck in a vent in the armory, and when he got her out, she was wearing a miniature version of shock trooper armor. The red paint hadn’t dried yet and was smeared in places on the thin plastoid, but that, at least, was a cute problem. He gave a blushing Lefty a comforting hug once his pet was safe and gently scratched the little tookas head before moving on with his day.

The talent show was farther from Fox’s mind again by the time he was making rounds near the east wing of the building on his second shift. Suddenly he heard noises from a storage room that was supposed to be unoccupied, and panic flared in his gut. He’d heard things like this before. Muffled voices echoed from inside, one of them shouting something indistinguishable, and they sounded like his vode!

All the worst possibilities raced through his head, but they had rights now, he could protect them if someone was trying to hurt them and he would! He would do anything to keep them safe, no matter the cost. Fox drew his twin blasters with his heart in his throat, raced right up to the door and -

The voices started to sing. Fox stopped dead in his tracks.

Theeeeere once was a man come from Sriluur, Say now did he really? A handsome pirate, that’s for sure! All of that’s a lie!

It… It was several voices, echoing loudly through the door now in the otherwise empty hall, all of them clones but… But nothing was wrong. Fox’s adrenaline fizzled at once and he let his hands with the blasters fall at his side. They were just practicing in there, a call and response song like some of them made up back on Kamino in training, nothing that was hurting them. There weren’t even rules against that kind of thing, at least, not anymore.

Hondo Ohnaka, Hondo Ohnaka, Hondo Ohnaka! All of that’s a lie!

Fox shook his head and closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting their little song remind him that they were okay. They did sound good, now that he knew no one was locked in there with a fucking Senator, and some of the lines they made up almost made him chuckle, lessening his nerves. If they had written it themselves, it was a very clever shanty. After a minute or so he trudged off to continue his rounds, but practicing vode continued to catch him off guard through the rest of that shift. By the time he made it back to the barracks he had ran into Pointe with wide eyes and his arms full of bright colored fabric and ribbon scraps, Tree practicing an attempt to make a strange plant disappear for Senator Chuchi, and Crow trying to smuggle no less than six mouse droids out of the Senate halls for who-the-hell-knows-why.

Fox was tired when he finally returned, but before he could make Stitch’s whole kriffing day by collapsing into bed at the end of it like he was supposed to, Thire burst in with a grin on his face that lit up the whole room.

“I found us a venue!” He announced, and Fox blinked at him in bleary-eyed confusion.

“A what?”

“You know that old theater just down the street?”

“The one you just issued eighteen building citations to last week?” Fox said with a raised eyebrow.

Thire rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Yeeeah… I might have offered to waive those if they can get the violations fixed by Taungsday… And let us use the place that night.”

Fox’s face stayed impassive as he looked at his blushing vod’ika. “…For the talent show?” He asked at long last, and Thire nodded.

“I mean, where were we gonna have it? The mess?”

That had been what Fox was picturing, but… Well, it didn’t really matter to him if the theater paid those fines, just that they fixed their shit, so if this was just as effective he didn’t see a problem with it. Besides, Thire seemed proud, and after seeing so much more enthusiasm today than he expected, maybe being on a real stage would be good for his kih’vode too, at least if the event was still private. They deserved to feel special. They were special. Especially since so many of them really had cultivated great talents, even while stationed here, of all places, where stifling conformity was a matter of survival.

“Good work, vod,” Fox yawned, standing up again and crossing over to Thire over to give him an appreciative hug. “They’ll love that.”

“You think so?” Thire said, letting out a breath and straightening up a bit at the praise.

“Of course,” Fox assured him. He let him go with a pat on the shoulder and sank back down onto his bed. “You’ll have to tell Stitch, though…”

“Will do, sir!” Thire beamed.

Fox smiled as he closed his eyes, even through his exhaustion. He hadn’t expected all this, but it really did feel like the spectacle was needed, somehow. Maybe he should have known, with how long they had all had to keep their individuality hidden away, for safety’s sake. But things were different now, they really were. Even if he was still having a hard time believing it.

Fox found it a little easier to drift off to sleep that night, even if he could have sworn someone was practicing an entire tap dance routine in a nearby room.

---

The day of the talent show came and the old theater was packed. Even knowing how excited his kih’vode were about this, Fox stared around in wide-eyed wonder at the number of them who showed up! Stitch had to half-drag him through the crowd of smiling, laughing Corries, most of them in armor but a few in military dress clothes or civvies or even full costumes that rivaled the worst dressed Senators, towards the judges booth in the center of the room. The rest of the panel, with Thire, Stone, Hound and Rosie, were already gathered there, chatting and laughing as they waited for everyone else to find their seats.

It was slow moving through the crowd though, even with Stitch’s intimidating scowl to cut them a path, since Fox’s kih’vode kept turning to smile at him, laugh, and hug him along the way.

“Commander!” A fresh faced shiny, Zed, grinned up at him with a a sharp salute. “Thank you sir, I - I can’t believe I get to show off my hoverboard tricks! I always saw the holos of the pros on Kamino but I never thought…”

“You’ll do great tonight,” Fox reassured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze that made the kid swell with pride and bounce on his toes. They only made it a few more steps before another trooper tapped on his shoulder.

“I was hoping to catch you, Sir,” The trooper said softly, fidgeting with a piece of flimsi in his hands, and Fox recognized him as Penner. “I didn’t sign up, I don’t think this would be very exciting from the stage but… I’ve been learning origami to give me something to do with my hands when I’m anxious and… I think I’ve gotten good at it,” He explained, blushing a little as he spoke. “I want you to have this one…” He held up the flimsi in his hand and Fox’s eyes widened. What was a flat and fragile sheet just a minute before was suddenly a perfect little Fox.

“That’s incredible,” Fox breathed, and he meant it. He picked up the little fox as gently as he could, looking at the little details, the tiny folds that seemed to fit impossibly together in awe. It was so personal, so heartfelt... ”Thank you, Pen’ika,” Fox smiled. “If you were competing I’d give you ten out of ten.”

Penner looked like he was about to cry. “It’s nothing, you… You saved my life,” Penner whispered, his lower lip wobbling just a bit as he did. “I don’t know if you remember but… But thank you, Commander.”

Fox felt like the air had been knocked clean from his lungs. He did remember, of course he did. Penner had been one of the first men he had been too late to protect… But he wrapped his arms around his brother, drawing him close and taking care to keep the oragami fox cupped protectively in his hand. When they pulled apart, both their eyes were misty, and Penner gave him a watery grin before turning away.

“I hope you’re paying attention,” Stitch said under his breath as he took Fox by the hand again. “See what can happen when you’re not a fucking asshole to yourself?”

“This was mostly your work,” Fox pointed out in a raw sounding voice, but Stitch shook his head.

“Only because you’re still running yourself into the damn ground trying to keep us safe. This was your idea, its happening because you said so and you did it for their sake, don’t you dare deny it!”

Fox didn’t dare. He wasn’t sure why he had said anything about a talent show in the first place, what possessed him to speak those words with hardly the thought in his mind or where they even came from, but he… He wasn’t sorry. His vode needed this, maybe more than he even realized, or maybe he knew but just hadn’t understood it yet.

“How many of them do you think…” Fox started, but trailed off.

“Think what?” Stitch pushed.

“… Need to know they… Matter,” Fox said quietly. “Even if they’re not competing tonight.”

Stitch stopped in his tracks, turning back to him with a solemn, troubled look on his face. “All of them,” He said, without a hint of bluster or sarcasm.

Fox nodded. That’s what he thought, too. “I wish I could tell them all…”

“I know. They would say the same about you,” Stitch told him gently. “Come on.”

A few more hugs and encouraging words later, Thire, Stone, Hound and Rosie all turned to greet him and Stitch as they approached the judges booth. Thire waved him into the centermost seat that they had left open for him and immediately sank into the seat at his right. Stitch paused, giving Fox an odd look and whispering something to Rosie, who nodded her head.

Fox was finding it a little difficult to pay attention to the small talk the others were making. Instead, he traced the edges of the little origami Fox in his hands. After a moment Stitch leaned in to give his shoulder a final squeeze before heading backstage, and Thire scooted closer to Fox’s side, his presence cool and steady.

Something about this night that had started out as a bad cover for a worse joke already felt so important. They’d been wearing the same matching armor and using their numbers instead of names for years for their own protection. He had to make so many stifling rules to keep them safe, even if it wasn’t enough. Everything that they did had been to blend in, to avoid drawing attention to themselves, to make themselves indistinguishable from the next clone so they couldn’t be easy targets, but now…

Now the war was over. They were people. They could stand out, show off, shine… But even if so many of them weren’t ready for that, they deserved to be celebrated, too.

Thire reached out, giving Fox’s hand a quiet squeeze, and he exhaled. He was already proud of them, so proud of every single one of his brothers, wherever they were at on their journey. Then the lights dimmed, the eager voices of his vode that filled the theater quieted in anticipation, and Thorn and Lowkey took the stage in the most ridiculous bright red bedazzled suits Fox had ever seen.

“Olarom, olarom, olarom!” Thorn shouted excitedly in Mando’a to a loud set of cheers, spinning an umbrella around his arm for some reason. “Welcome to the first annual Coruscant Guard Talent Show, vode!”

Fox raised an eyebrow. He never said anything about this being annual.

“Shiny or veteran, Grunt, ARF, Shock troop, Medic, Mechanic, Prison guard, Security, Massiff handlers, Massiffs themselves and anyone else, none of that matters tonight! So forget your test scores, fuck whatever the long-necks thought of you, nobody’s perfect and tonight we get to see some of what you’re all really made of! The good stuff! Like… What do we have tonight, Lowkey?”

“What, besides us? In these gorgeous suits?” Lowkey said lightly, strutting across the stage in the glittery red thing and puffing out his umbrella behind him dramatically to the cheers and cat-calls of the men in the audience. “I’ve got to give credit where credit is due though, our own Commander Fox picked these out special himself!”

That wasn’t true.

“Oh he’s got such great taste, vod, in anything but caf. Still won’t use the cream and sugar we have now, says it’s better black.”

…That part was.

“But actually, this whole night was Fox’s idea, if you haven’t heard!” Thorn continued, and that… Was true too, somehow. Fox was still having trouble remembering he had actually started all this, him and his terrible joke had teamed up to make an event that the whole guard was more excited about than anything he’d seen since the end of the war. Their brothers clapped and hooted their approval of the idea, and Fox tried not to notice how many of them had turned to stare at him just now, but Lowkey chuckled into his mic and shut his umbrella with a crisp snap that got their attention again.

“Well, we better get on with it then, Thorn, or we’ll keep the Commander up past his bedtime.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Thorn asked with feigned innocence.

“I’m afraid of Stitch,” Lowkey hissed under his breath, pointing behind his hand towards the curtains where Fox knew his CMO was standing just out of sight. A single gloved hand popped out from backstage to flip him off.

“Oooh, good point. In that case, Taps! Get your ass out here quick!” Thorn cried, and the pair of them pranced back off the stage, blowing kisses to the crowd to laughter and cheers.

The ARF trooper Taps stepped gingerly out from behind the curtains with a nervous grin on his face. Fox wasn’t sure what sort of act he would be performing, he wasn’t wearing a costume and didn’t seem to have any special gear, but the music picked up and Taps started tap dancing! The irony almost made Fox burst out laughing by mistake, because of course! The tap dancer who he heard the other night must have been Taps! He should have known. The clone wouldn’t have lasted a kriffing day in the Rotundra, not with the nervous habit that earned him his name, so Fox put him on street patrols, which was a much better fit. But he had no idea his vod had turned all that energy into something so rhythmic and percussive and artistic! When the routine came to a close and Taps bowed with a flourish the whole theater broke into applause and Fox held his score card high, a perfect 10/10, smiling ear to ear.

Next up was Tree in a bright green cape he could have stolen off Bail Organa himself and… Likely had, given how the trooper seemed to trust more of the Senators than Fox really appreciated. He took the stage with several of his friends carrying exotic looking plants behind him in big silvery pots, but once the show began Fox was completely mesmerized! The disappearance act he saw him practicing the other night for Senator Chuchi had a Part Two that he hadn’t seen, where the towering fern reappeared on the judges booth! Grizzer flew into a tizzy, barking like mad at the trick, and Fox shot his hand into the air with the 10/10 before the act even concluded.

Every other act was just as outstanding as the one before, from the squad who got the entire crowd to join them in singing the shanty about Hondo Ohnaka to the green-haired Pointe running his piebald massiff Bespin through a series of tricks with colorful ribbons and bows streaming behind her! Guts put on a gorgeous display of his automatons whizzing through the air to music that a music box he built himself played, Coro performed juggling routine that he claimed to have learned by literally jugging up to twelve medical charts at the same time (Fox wasn’t sure if that was a joke, and no one else seemed to know either, but he didn’t mistake Stitch’s barking laugh from behind the curtain when he said it), and Lucky’s graceful and risky sword dance captivated everyone except for the worried medics in the crowd, especially Rosie, who gasped loudly at Fox’s side every time he made a dangerous looking move. She still burst into applause with the rest of them once it was over, relief written all over her face.

Captain Taser’s speed painting was already a beautiful piece of artwork even before he spun the canvas rightside up to reveal he had been painting upside down the whole time , showing off a colorful Coruscant sunrise and adding the sparkle of morning stars with a last few taps of his brush. Later on the twins Kando and Sii’s four-armed General Grievous improv routine had the entire building bursting with laughter, then Zed’s hoverboard tricks sent Stitch rushing onto the stage for half a second before he twisted a miraculous third time in the air and landed his final combo. Lefty’s routine with his Coruscant Guard Shock Tooka melted about half the audience out of pure cuteness, then Xia performed a song in the voices of our judges, which was just their own voice the entire time, but they put on a long yellow wig for “Thorn’s” part and dramatically held a Massiff plushie in the air for “Hound’s”.

Fox was laughing so hard he could barely see by the end of it, so he gave them a 10/10. They all deserved 10/10, they all deserved the whole world, he didn’t even care when Stone elbowed him hard and shook his head at his unchanged scorecard! He couldn’t help it, and he didn’t want to.

He did at least hesitate after the slicer Crow’s reprogrammed mouse droids were revealed to have stolen boots off no less than seventeen troopers in the audience AND Thire himself, apparently working unseen throughout the entire show to amass their collection undetected. Fox shook his head and let out a heavy sigh at that. He really had to keep an eye on Crow. The kind of shit he could get up to, with skills like that… It was concerning, but admittedly impressive. So. 10/10.

“Another 10 out of 10 from our own 1010,” Thorn read off with a hearty laugh from the stage. “What does that make Crow’s total score there, Lowkey?”

“With Thire’s whopping zero, he’s coming in at 21/50,” Lowkey announced, and Crow pouted at the other Commander, making a little heart with his hands and then breaking it, but his eyes still sparkled with the usual mischief.

“Neat trick, but you gotta pick your targets better there vod. Thire holds a grudge!” Thorn said, twirling that umbrella of his in the air with a teasing grin. “Try Fox next time, he wouldn’t fault you tonight if you stole his whole kit right off his shebs!”

A few heads turned his way with good natured chuckles, and Fox blushed a little, fixing Thorn with a glare that had no heat in it at all. It was true, but he didn’t have to say it. Even if, judging by their reactions, everyone else seemed to already know.

“Speaking of Fox,” Lowkey said slowly, and Thorn’s grin widened in a very concerning way. “I thought I heard a little rumor about a last minute addition before the grand finale?”

“Oh, right, we did hear that didn’t we!” Thorn teased, turning his gaze directly on Fox.

Fox abruptly stood from his seat with alarm bells ringing in his head. No, they had talked about this, he wasn't performing! Whatever Thorn had planned wouldn’t happen, he had nothing prepared, but before he could take a single step, Thire and Rosie had brought hands down on his shoulders.

“Usedii, vod,” Thire murmured to him. “This won’t be bad, trust us.”

“I don’t have any special talents,” Fox hissed back. “I already told Stitch-”

“He thought of something, just before he left,” Rosie whispered. “But don’t worry. It’s good, you’ll like it.”

“Commander!” Thorn sang dramatically from the stage, his eyes somehow sparkling even more than that ridiculous suit he was wearing. “I had a whole speech planned about how you’ve been holding out on us tonight, but you had to go and ruin it! With all those big scores you kept turning in and some of what I saw in the lobby before this even began -”

“I’m sorry,” Fox blurted out, absolutely crestfallen at the realization, but of course he had gone and managed to screw up such a wonderful night somehow. He had tried, but something had gone wrong, hadn’t it? Was it because he gave everyone 10/10? Was he a useless judge? He should have just left this to Stitch, he shouldn’t have gotten involved at all -

“Oh my god, Fox,” Thire mumbled under his breath.

“No,” Hound said firmly with a shake of his head.

Fox blinked back up at Thorn on the stage in confusion. His vod’ika looked thoroughly unimpressed at his apology, with just a twinge of amusement tugging the corners of his mouth into a grin, and Lowkey scoffed at his side.

Suddenly, Fox became very aware of all the eyes pinned on him.

“Take a breath, Commander,” Thorn said a little softer than before. A few troopers in the seats began shuffling around in their seats, but Thorn ignored them and continued to talk. “Point is, we know of something you’re better at than anyone else in the galaxy, even if you don’t. So tonight we’re gonna prove it to you.”

Fox narrowed his eyes towards the last place he saw Stitch, that spot behind the curtains his CMO had disappeared to after Zed’s hoverboard act was over, since he was responsible for this, but before he could spot him there Thire reached out and wrapped Fox in a bone-crushing hug. Fox hadn’t expected that but he returned the hug on pure instinct, pulling Thire in protectively and cradling the back of his head.

“What is it?” Fox asked urgently. “What’s wrong?”

But Thire just chuckled affectionately into his neck. “Nothing’s wrong, ori’vod. This is it. Your talent.”

Fox blinked a few times in confusion out at the crowd over his brothers shoulder. More of them were turning around in their seats now, understanding of some sort dawning on their faces and making them grin. Stitch stood at the far end of them all with a gloating glint in his eye.

“You’re really good at loving us,” Thire said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “And you’re really good at hugs.”

…Oh.

Fox wasn’t even sure how to respond to that. For a moment he just stared back at Thire, processing the words. Of course he loved them, they were his vode, they made it so easy…

“My turn,” Stone said simply, and Thire complied, stepping away so Stone could wrap his arms around Fox instead.

“The war was hard on us all, Fox,” Stone said quietly into Fox’s ear. “But you’ve been our rock. Thank you.”

Fox nodded against his brothers neck, fighting back the lump in his throat. “I… I couldn’t have survived it, without you…” He said thickly.

“Neither could we. I think we all need this,” Stone replied, giving him an extra squeeze before letting go.

Hound stepped up next, whispering a reminder of how sending him to work with the massiffs had changed everything for him, made his life worth living, then ordered Grizzer to jump up and lick Fox straight across the face, making Fox laugh again so he felt a little less like he was on the verge of tears. Then Rosie stepped up, passing off her forearm crutches to Thire to hold as she threw herself into Fox’s arms with a bright, determined smile.

“Thanks for taking me in, ori’vod,” She said jovially. “And for finally sticking to just the two shifts. We’ll keep working on that.”

“Stitch mentioned that to you?” Fox murmured, and Rosie flashed him a sharp look as she let go and Thire passed back the crutches.

“No, that’s common kriffing sense,” She said with a smirk.

Fox didn’t know what to say to that, but before he could take a seat again two more of his kih’vode jostled their way onto the platform, the twin shinies Kando and Sii from the comedy act. Kando opened his arms with a sheepish little grin and Fox caved like wet flimsi, sweeping both of them up into a hug, too. One of them let out a little squeal, as if his heart wasn’t enough of a puddle already. They were sweet kids. A couple seconds later he let go and scruffed both of their hair, but froze as he looked back over their heads and spotted the rest of the crowd.

Almost all of them were out of their seats. What started as a somewhat proper line of his fellow judges was now an amoeba-shaped pile of vode, with Stitch in his white medical officer’s uniform striding up the middle of them all with a face full of absolute triumph. Fox could hardly breathe as his CMO shouldered past the others and marched up the few stairs, clasping a hand on Fox’s shoulder and pausing.

“What are you waiting for?” He said with a wicked grin. “You wanted this. Get loved, moron.”

All Fox could do was nod, and the only way he could tell the next clone who hugged him was Tree was by the bright green cape billowing down his back that definitely belonged to Bail Organa. He didn’t know how much time it took to hug the rest of his brothers and tell them they were loved, and he lost count of how many there were, but if there was anything he could do for them he would, of course he would, especially something so simple as this! The program stayed paused as they all filed through, and Fox put his whole heart into every embrace. Some of the men mumbled kind things to him, like Lefty, some stayed silent, like Guts, and some even managed to make him laugh through the tears, like Crow. He tried to apologize to the ones he knew he had let down before, even if not a single one of them would hear it he had to say it, but the message that came back to him was always the same. He was only one person, he had done his best. They never blamed him. He saved some of them, more than just Penner, and every time he heard that he held them tight for an extra couple seconds before letting them go. His kih’vode meant everything to him, and all he wanted was for them to know it.

Apparently, they did… And he meant everything to them, too.

By the time the last of his family had made their way back to their seats, he had a feeling they had overshot how long their production would take by a while, but it hardly seemed to matter. That was a problem for later on. Stitch brought up the very end of the line with an expression full of compassion and care that Fox still wasn’t sure he deserved. Fox just shook his head in disbelief at his absolutely impossible CMO, and Stitch pulled Fox into the gentlest, warmest hug of the entire night.

They didn’t need words, but Stitch provided them anyways.

“I fucking told you.”

Fox just nodded against his brother’s neck. Stitch had been right about everything… Not that Fox would admit that just yet. If Stitch heard him say that it would go straight to his head and Fox would really would be forced down to just one shift a day. He couldn’t risk that, but he made no move to let go of Stitch again either, even as Thorn and Lowkey finally retook the stage.

“Hey Lieutenant! Something about this doesn’t quite seem fair, does it?” Thorn said with a shit-eating grin, causing most of the vode to turn back to him at once.

“Oh, definitely not. Fox is a judge, he can’t vote for himself,” Lowkey sniggered. “But we can’t let that 40/50 stand, can we?”

40/50? Fox shot a confused glance back down the judges booth to Thire, Stone, Hound and Rosie, and had to stifle an exasperated sigh. He still hadn’t thought they were taking this as a serious act, but all four of them had all gone off and awarded him a perfect 10/10.

“Alas, we cannot!” Thire declared with a sweeping gesture to the crowd. “Looks like we all have to help him out. What do you think? What’s his score?”

Fox could feel the blush rising up his neck and his cheeks as his brothers in the crowd sounded off with whistling and cheering and chants of TEN! TEN! TEN! all around. Really, the hugs were enough, he felt the love and now this was just getting excessive, but after a minute Thorn raised both hands and lowered them slowly to soothe the crowd.

“You got all that, Lowkey?” He asked with feigned innocence. “What’s his final score?”

“Ten thousand one hundred and ten!” Lowkey called out in dazzling confidence.

“Mmm. Yep. That’ll be a tough one to beat,” Thorn mused. “Think we can manage it, vod?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Are we gonna try anyways?”

“Hell yes!”

Music kicked on, both of their umbrellas opened with a snap and suddenly the glittering suits were gone! Instead, the pair of them posed for half a second in skimpy black leotards as their brothers gasped before diving whole-heartedly into the routine Thorn had been so excited about from the start.

When the sun shines, we'll shine together Told you be here forever Said I'll always be your friend Took an oath, I'ma stick it out to the end

Thorn and Lowkey were up there having the time of their life and Fox smiled so hard it hurt! The entire crowd cheered raucously for them, some even singing along with the words that they knew as the pair hit every move in tandem with huge perfect flourishes and over-the-top energy. Then Thire somersaulted off the stage and leap onto the judges booth with a bang in front of Fox! He lip-synced directly at him, holding his umbrella like a mic, dropping low and flipping around his hair with pure, unfiltered joy on his face.

Now that it's raining more than ever Know that we'll still have each other You can stand under my umbrella You can stand under my umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh

Even Stitch had doubled over at Fox’s side, and Fox laughed so hard at the antics it brought tears to his eyes, happy tears this time, seeing his brothers shine, so full of life and joy. When Thorn jumped back on stage a burst of water rained down on them from above and they danced and stomped in the puddles it made, sending sparkling water and mist into the air as the song hit its climax, then struck a dramatic pose with their umbrellas on the final note.

The theater went wild, Fox included, hollering their praises at the two of them! Thire and Rosie were on their feet, Grizzer spun in circles at Hound’s side, Stone was shouting for an encore and Stitch squeezed Fox’s arm with the hand still slung around his back.

It didn’t matter who won, what everybody scored, or if they all wanted to throw the whole contest for the sake of his own self esteem. He had the best kih’vode in the GAR, with the biggest, most thoughtful hearts and the most incredible talents he could imagine, and he couldn’t be prouder to be their commander. Everyone had needed this tonight, hadn’t they?

Especially him.

Fox looked around the room at their faces with a heart that felt like it was seconds away from bursting. This night truly meant everything to him. He really had thrown the best fucking talent show Coruscant had ever seen, because he had the best family the galaxy could ever know, and he was so glad that he lived to see it.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Credit and thanks for the following OC’s go to my talented pocket friends!!!!!!

Stitch - TooManyTeeth Tree - MagicalStardust Guts - ProwlingThunder Pointe & Bespin - Gracklewarp Rosie - Mira-Starfall Lefty & Lucky - John_in_Art and Wolviecat Kando & Sii - Dragomir and Star from discord! Crow, Penner & Lowkey - My own lil guys, Crow is from my The Lights You Make series, Penner from Brothers Gained Brothers Lost, and Lowkey from Dying Isn't Very Regulation!

Oh! And I HAD to make Thorn and Lowkey dance to Umbrella just like Tom Holland, it was WAY too perfect, and so was the Hondo Ohnaka shanty! Highly recommend checking both these out if you haven't seen them before, 10/10 no notes!

#fox needs hugs #and he gets them #Fox gets soooo many hugs #corrieweek #corrieweek2024 #commander fox #coruscant guard #1010 day #its his day!#commander fox day #happy fox day #he loves his brothers so much #coruscant guard needs hugs #tooth rotting fluff #clone wars fanfiction #OC Corries #My friends are so talented I love them #get loved moron

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