Im Fine 🙂

"Seriously?" She asks surprisedly, turning to him from the stove, "You just got back. Have you seen Y/N yet?"

"Yes, I did." He mumbles, the memory of your shocked expression engrained in his mind.

You looked stunning. A little tired, slight bags beneath your eyes that weren't there before. He's sure that was from all the hard work you did while you were away at school. Not much else changed, except from the fact you'd been away for so long it took a second for him to recognize you. He wishes he could talk to you about school, ask you about college life and all the fun he’s sure you got into while you were away. He could have. He could have been asking you this whole time but he never did.

You could have told him, but you didn't. You could have kept up with Jake but were too afraid that he didn't want that. You assumed that once the texts from him stopped coming in, the two of you were through. Funnily enough, he thought the same.

Slowly, after you've finished using the restroom, you exit and quickly and quietly make your way back to Ronnie, successfully avoiding another run in with Jake. She's still sitting on the sofa outside, scrolling through her phone and smiling up at you once you make your reappearance. But, when she sees your paled face, your far away expression, she sits up and frowns.

"Y/N, are you okay?" She asks.

"Yeah I'm fine," you lie, sitting down on the sofa next to her and bringing a hand up to your forehead, "just tired I think. I'm exhausted from school."

"I'll bet." She sits back, then completely changes the topic, "I haven't even told you about Noah."

"Who's Noah?" You sigh out, closing your eyes tight then opening them and blinking.

Forget about Jake, he's just Ronnie's brother. Ronnie is your best friend, and Jake is just her brother. Pay attention to Ronnie. Ronnie is important.

"Well... he sat next to me in anatomy first semester, and we had to work on a project with partners, so he asked me..." she goes on to tell the tale of her latest situation-ship, and you do your best to listen.

But your mind is elsewhere, you've been left in a daze since seeing Jake in the hallway. So is he.

"Jacob Thomas, you better not be ignoring me." Karen huffs, drying her hands off on a towel then setting them on her hips.

"I'm not, mom," he shakes his head, "I have to go though, seriously."

"It’s a rule here that we spend at least one Sunday night every month together at dinner and Josh is already skipping out tonight," she crosses her arms, "where do you both have to be so badly that you can't spend an hour with your family?"

He has no excuse. It isn't like he doesn't want to spend time with his mother, it's not like that at all. It's you that he's trying to avoid as best as possible, and knowing his mother and her kind, hospitable, and welcoming nature, knowing that there will be an open seat at the table tonight, she's going to invite you to stay. He knows he won't be able to make it through a dinner with you around, at least not tonight. Maybe not ever.

"I don't know, mom." He sighs, stepping back, already knowing that he's not going to win this battle.

"Okay," she nods, glancing at him as she turns back to the stove, "so I'll be fixing you a plate."

"Yeah," he goes ahead and agrees with her, accepting defeat as he walks backwards until he reaches the stairs and climbs them up to his bedroom, hopefully far away from you.

But eventually dinner does come and you are invited to stay. You wish you could come up with an actual excuse, but when you say you don't want to be a bother Karen insists.

"There'll be an extra chair at the table anyway since Josh won't be here." She shrugs, pulling a tray of something delicious from the oven and setting it on the stove. The smell is all the more convincing.

And there is an extra chair, right next to Jake. Because of course, Josh's chair is beside Jake's.

There's nowhere else for you to go, Sam has already claimed the chair beside Ronnie. You wish you could just run straight out the door, but that's not very polite. So, because you are a sane person, you pull out the chair next to Jake's and sit down with your plate. It won't last that long, you can make it through one dinner next to Jake.

"So, how was school, Y/N?" Kelly asks, making you raise your eyebrows and nod as you chew your food.

"Good so far," you say once you've swallowed, "they say that first year is always hardest."

You're just trying to keep the conversation light. School was miserable for you, you're not sure how you made it through, but you wouldn't share that with them. You wouldn't share that right in front of Jake. Not that he would care, probably, but still nonetheless. You wanted to seem impressive. Strong. Stronger without him.

"That's for sure." Karen speaks into her glass of wine with a quick 'hah' followed, making you chuckle.

She has always made you feel so at home, for a second you forget that Jake is there beside you until he picks up his glass of water and takes a sip. You keep your eyes trained away from him, as he does with his, but you can't help but want to watch his throat, the way his Adam's apple bobs and the way he licks the excess water off his lips. You want to see him so bad, it might just kill you.

Ronnie groans, slouching in her seat slightly, "Yay for me..."

"You'll make it through," you lean towards her on the other side of the table, a comforting smile on your lips, "it's not that bad."

Jake always loved that from you, that reassuring tone, that bit of optimism even if you yourself are nervous. It's how you spoke to him before you left, how you assured him that everything would work out, that you'd see each other again. That the distance wouldn't destruct what you two had built. You both were so confident...

"I've heard lots about the band," you nod over at Sam, then glance at Jake, just bringing it up out of politeness and wanting the topic to move away from yourself.

"Yeah, we're playing some fests this summer." Sam nods, then looks at Jake for him to add something.

He nods, and you watch him out the corner of your eye, his hand coming up to tuck some of his growing hair behind his ear. "Yup," is all he says.

"They've written so many new songs," Karen adds, glancing at her older son with the grown-out hair and bad attitude, then looks to you, "have you heard any of them, Y/N?"

"I have not," you shake your head, then look to the boys, "but I'd love to sometime though."

Jake would never. He's sure that even if you showed up to one of their gigs he'd get sloppy on a riff and stumble over a run. Before you were the one thing that made him perfect on stage, but the very thought of you watching him play now made him nervous. He wouldn't want you to see him like that.

Sam mentions an upcoming gig and Jake wants to kick him under the table for mentioning it. You nod, saying something along the lines of 'I'll have to see if I can make it' and Jake prays that you can't. If you show up, he'll fuck up.

Dinner continues like that. Karen and Kelly asking you questions about school and you answering politely. Ronnie mentioning her nervousness for college. Sam bringing up the band. Jake's- for the most part, aside from a brief grunt or hum- silence.

You wish he would talk. You want everyone to talk and for him to murmur something softly to you. You want to whisper something back. You want to hear him make a teasing remark about Sam under his breath and you want to laugh at it. You want to hold his hand under the table, feel the roughness of his fingers and palm and have the warmth of it run up your arm and spread throughout your body.

That's not possible though. Perhaps it will never be possible.

You hate thinking like that. When you think back to how it used to be with Jake, and realize that it may not ever be the same again. It has been ruined; you've decided. That love is gone and will never return, and whatever there was between you and Jake has been spoilt. The two of you were selfish and greedy and desperate for passion and love, just young and dumb with no plan of preserving it. Making it last. You had hesitance and should have listened to your gut, but of course you listened to your heart when it involved Jake. And here you are now, right where you always suspected you'd end up, awkwardly beside Jake without a trace of that last summer feeling.

Eventually, everyone finishes up. Quiet chatter still consumes the table, and Jake slowly stands and begins taking a plates. Karen smiles at him as he takes hers, thanking him softly, and you look up to him when he adds yours to the stack but he doesn't look back at you at all. You’re surprised he took your plate to begin with, so you take it with a grain of salt. Talking your plate and looking at you was too much to ask for.

He excuses himself and says he'll get started on dishes, what a clever way to ditch early. When he's gone around the corner and disappeared into the kitchen, no relief washes over you like you expected. He's gone, you should be happy. That's not the case at all though. You still miss him.

What am I doing? Your brain is bouncing around. You miss him yet he's in the same house as you. You miss him yet he's right around the corner. You fucking miss him but he didn't give you an ounce of attention this entire evening. You're better than this, you tell yourself. Are you? You want to tell yourself that you don't need Jake, but you know you do. Why not admit it and get it over with?

Both of you have way too much pride for that. To admit defeat and come back to the other would feel like a loss in a way. You hate that you're a sore loser. You hate that you can't just give up already. How embarrassing though. To crawl back to Jake after he left you, surely you'd never live that down. Especially so if he rejects you, which seems like he has already done so without even speaking a word to you.

"Sorry," you slowly stand up, grabbing your empty glass, "I'm just gonna grab some water."

"Let me, dear." Karen holds a hand out, but you politely decline, telling her you need to stretch your legs anyway. She smiles and sits back, a slight gleam in her eye as she glances to Kelly then back to you, shrugging softly, "Alright then."

So, you get up and make your way to the kitchen. It's in slow motion, and it isn't until you just pass around the corner that you realize what you're doing. Will you say something? Confront him? Admit defeat? You're not sure, but you can't stop now.

When you enter the kitchen Jake glances at you from the sink, and quickly looks away when realizing it's you. Passing behind him, you look at the back of his head, hoping he'll turn and stop you, maybe even pull you into his arms for a kiss. But no, he doesn't, and you reach the fridge and pull out the pitcher, carefully and slowly filling your glass up. You take your time, wanting him to say something, giving him more than enough time to say something. This is his chance, will he take it? But, you end up closing the fridge and walking out of the room, no words exchanged and only one fleeting look given. That's it.

It's over, you're sure of it, and you try your best to disguise your disappointment when you get back to the table. You wish you could just move on, already, you did when you were away. But now that you're back, and now that you see him, it's so much harder. He's right there, but you can't have him. He's gone, but he's right in front of you. And it hurts.

"Y/N?" Karen sets her hand on the table near you, shaking you from your daze.

You were staring at the glass of water in front of you, the one you were supposed to be drinking but haven't touched it since setting it down. You look to her with brows raised from surprise, and adjust your posture, swallowing thickly and nodding your head.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Do you think you can make it to the bands next show?"

"Oh, I'm not sure," you wring your hands in your lap, the very idea of seeing Jake ever again making you tense, "I'll have to check and see..."

You weren't going to go. Your excuse was that it’s at a new bar they started playing at while you were gone, one you'd never been to before, and it was a longer drive. Ronnie just wouldn't have that though.

"I'm so glad you're able to come," Ronnie glances at kindly from the driver’s seat, "I love their gigs but it's more fun with a friend, ya know?"

"Mhm," you sit passenger, staring out the windshield with a blank face.

There are so many other ways you could be spending your evening. You could read your favorite book or finish that series you've been binging, you could finally unpack your stuff from college or reorganize your bathroom. You could bake a cake, start training for a marathon, paint a mural. There are so many things you would rather do than watch Jake perform tonight, you'd literally prefer anything else.

But it's not just Jake, you have to remind yourself. If anything, you're going for everyone else besides him. It's a band, there are three other members you can watch. You're going for the others.

When you get there, you gawk at the bar. It's much nicer than than White Rabbit, no chipping paint or mature adult posters. You wonder when that change happened, when they started playing at more serious bars. As you look out your window, you spot Jake with his guitar case walking around the back towards the rear entrance, and quickly turn away with a hand rubbing your forehead.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Ronnie asks.

You forgot she was next to you and remove your hand with a soft shake of your head, "I've got a headache."

"Oh no," she touches your arm, "we can stay towards the back, okay? Further away from the noise."

Can you just hide in the bathroom all night?

Together you walk through the lot and into the bar. It has high ceilings and clean floors, tall tables and chairs with booths along the windows and a shiny bar right at the center. You're taken aback. This is really nice.

Karen spots you two immediately and calls you both over to a table towards the middle. Walking over you glance at the stage, much larger than the ones they've played at before. You're taking it all in, the modern design, the interesting layout, the almost sophisticated crowd. There's an actual crowd here.

Kelly whistles teasingly and waves a hand in front of your zoned out eyes, breaking you from your trance. He chuckles as you snap out of it, looking at him and Karen, who is gently pushing his hand away, with a confused expression.

"I'm sorry," you shaking your head to clear your thoughts, "I've never been here before. It's really nice."

Karen nods in agreement, with a soft smile. She can sense your nervousness, and wonders what's wrong, but doesn't say anything.

"Y/N has a headache so we'll be towards the back tonight." Ronnie tells them.

"Bless your heart," Karen rubs your arm comfortingly, "you want some water?"

"I think I'll be okay." You smile politely and thank her anyway before moving away with Ronnie.

The two of you stand near the back, and Karen ends up bringing you both waters anyway. You sip and watch as the stage gets assembled. There's a small commotion at the front door, but you and Ronnie are two far away to see what's going on. It soon gets settled and eventually, the band takes the stage.

The crowd cheers, their following has grown. It was a welcoming crowd, there had to be at least 100 people alone in the bar, and the majority of them are watching the band. It made your heart soar, they are getting the attention they deserve.

They open with one of their fast paced songs to get the bar going, and it works. People cheer and whistle for the band, they clap on beat with Danny when Josh prompts them to. You can't fight the grin on your face, and begin to clap as well.

You've missed this music, you've missed this energy, this rush. There is nothing like their music. Nothing like watching Josh strut around on stage or Danny's drum solo or Sam really getting into his riffs. Nothing like when Jake builds up that show confidence and swings his guitar behind his head. There's nothing like it.

They continue through a few more songs, each done perfectly. When Jake told you that he plays better when you're there, you knew it wasn't true. He's only gotten better over time, without your presence, and that makes you a little happy. You wouldn't want to hold Jake back in the slightest.

You don't even realize that your eyes have been trained to him over the others for the entirety of this song. When he gets concentrated, his brow furrowed and his lips puckered, and it reminds you of a special moment you shared with him in his car after a fest they played last year.

"Very good," he grunts, his brows pulling together in concentration, "just lay back and take it babe."

The sun is just now going down, the orange and yellow hue reflecting in his review mirror. It casts a glow over his skin, along his neck and down his bare chest. He took his shirt off mid-show due to the heat and since then you knew you were gonna pull him to this back seat. Your desperation turned him on so much, he was more than happy to give you what you wanted without a fight.

You squeeze around him and his pink lips pucker and blow a quick breath out through them, looking down to your wetness then up to your eyes and chuckling out shakily, "Can you do that again?"

Your jaw drops and you tighten on command, making him close his eyes and come forward with a long moan. You can't help but smile at this accomplishment while he's distracted, and when he gathers himself you relax your face and let him kiss you deeply and slowly.

"Okay okay, let me make you cum." He grins, speeding up his pumping hips as you cry out softly, feeling his fingertips cascade down your naked frame. He can't help but coo and baby you now, "I know, I know. You were just so wet through that whole set, don't worry I'll fuck you nice and sweet baby."

The crash of a cymbal breaks you from the daydream as the song comes to a crescendo and ends on a solid note the band plays together as one. The crowd breaks into a cheer, giving you the opportunity to play off your dazed look and clap along with them. Jake beams at the crowds positive reaction and nods to a few people up front.

"Alright," Josh speaks into the mic, earning a few more random cheers from people.

Jake looks to his twin then back at the others, reading everyone's energy which is maxed out right now. They were on fire tonight and nothing could put them out, Jake's sure of it. Up next on the setlist is another upbeat song, but Josh is giving the boys time to reenergize by making conversation with the crowd.

Placing his orange pick between his teeth, Jake unbuttons the rest of his shirt and wipes the sweat from his brow. You bite the inside of your lip, watching him as he does that, checking to see that, yes, of course other girls are watching him just the same as you.

When he looks up, he pushes his slick hair back to keep it out of his face and lightly holds the neck of the Les Paul. What he doesn't mean to do is grip the strings suddenly, causing an off key chord to blare out through the amp and create a squeal of feedback through the speakers. He's spotted you, unintentionally, his eyes just landed on you, watching you look amongst the crowd. Even in the dim lighting he can see you, and he lets out a panicked breath when you look up at him.

Your eyes flicker back to the stage as the odd sound echoes, and immediately your eyes connect with Jake's. He looks startled, completely thrown off. He sees you.

"That's the spirit, Jake." Josh covers it up with a joke in the microphone, making the crowd laugh and pay no mind to the accident. Then, Josh nods to teach of the boys and counts them off, "1... 2... 3... 4..."

They begin the next song without missing a beat, and as they play the intro, Josh turns back to Jake with a soft frown. It asks him what was that for? but Jake just shakes it off, putting his entire attention into his playing. It was difficult with you in the room, and he can still feel your eyes on him. He wants you to look away, but then again, he can't get enough of your eyes.

He glances to you and there you are, still watching him, a sophisticated look on your face, as if you're above this bar scene, that you'd rather be anywhere but here. He thinks you look breathtaking none the less, but fuck if he'll let you come in here and think nothing of this show. This is one of the best damn shows of your life and you both know it. The guitar solo comes in hot and it's then that Jake looks away and struts to the front of the stage, moving towards the center as his fingers fly over the fretboard like it's nothing.

He leans back, thrusting in time with his playing, his hips grinding against the body of the guitar. The crowd goes crazy, and you stand there in shock, eyes widening and mouth dropping.

"Oh my god..." you murmur to yourself, taking in the all too sexual scene in front of you that has women too old to be shrieking, well, shrieking.

"Jake's such a show off," Ronnie scoffs above the noise, then looks to you, "hey, you don't mind if I dip early right? Josh can give you a ride home I texted him before the show."

You're hardly paying attention to Ronnie when she says this, and all you do is give a little nod which makes her grin and pat your shoulder before zipping out of the bar. When the solo comes to an end and you wipe the drool off your chin from gawking at the guitarist onstage, you realize what this means now that Ronnie is gone, and look around for her. She's already left though, and you can't help but cross your arms with a huff of frustration. Who knows where she ran off to, abandoning you at the bar she dragged you to.

You glance around you and realize everyone is too absorbed in the show to care that you're standing there alone, so you do the same and enjoy the rest of the performance. You put a lot of effort into not looking in Jake's direction but it's nearly impossible. Josh might be the front man, but Jake knows how to own a stage, and every time you so much as hear a tiny pluck of a guitar string, your eyes move back to him.

Part of you can't believe you'd want to be anywhere else tonight. Screw the book you're two chapters away from finishing, screw your suitcase that still needs to be unpacked, nothing could beat this. Jake is practically caressing his guitar now, similar to the way one would cradle a lovers body, and he makes the Les Paul sing out notes so smooth and sexy, you begin to blush in your spot.

You have to leave, you can't just stand there anymore its eating you alive, so you rush to the restroom, staying in there until the song is over, and just for good measure waiting until they close out the set all together.

You leave the stall you hadn't even used when you hear the door open and pass two ladies who stare you up and down suspiciously. All over again you regret coming to this bar, you don't belong here, how Ronnie got you both in you can't remember. Stepping to the sink you look over you appearance, hating what you decided on wearing tonight, just a thin, black shirt and some cut off denim shorts with your converse. You look so... little. Adolescent. Childish. If Jake was playing at bars like this with women like that in them now, you wonder who he's picked to stare at in the crowd during your leave. It makes a sick feeling swirl in your stomach and you quickly look away from your reflection, wiping your hands dry and exiting the restroom.

The bar has grown increasingly quiet since the band finished playing. Music plays over the speakers, but the voices of the attendees drown it out. Your eyes search for Karen and Kelly amongst the people, but it seems they have left. You look to the stage but they've already packed everything up, no one is no longer up there. Were you in the bathroom for that long? Long enough for them vacate the stage?

You pull your phone out as you step aside to let a group of adults with their alcoholic beverages walk past you. You haven't been so out of place before. When you try to unlock your cellphone, it flashes the red battery symbol on a black screen, making you sigh softly. Dead. You were hoping you'd be able to reach Josh over the phone, but now it seems like you'll have to search for him yourself.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, you spot Jake off to the right by the stairs that lead up the short stage. Your feet lead you over to him before you can even stop yourself, and you tap him on his shoulder.

He turns to you from his guitar case, the polite smile on his face drops as soon as he realizes it's you. It makes your mouth go dry. He's never looked at you that way.

"Hi, Jake." You murmur, just loud enough to be heard through the thick noise of the bar.

"Hi," is all he says, nothing else.

You swallow and scratch your opposite arm, asking him, "Have you seen, Josh?"

His answer is blunt, "He already left."

Shit.

When you stand there silently, thinking over your options, he begins to turn away so you place a hand on his upper arm.

"I need a ride home, Jake. Can you please-"

"Why were you even here tonight, Y/N?" He asks, cutting you off abruptly.

You draw your hand away and look at him, shocked. Why was he so upset?

"I..." you shake your head, unable to get his tone of irritation out of your ears and look to him with a soft frown, "you're not the only one on the stage, you know? Maybe I came for the others?"

"Sure," he scoffs, nodding his head and looking you over with annoyance in his eyes, "and so why didn't you ask any of the others to give you a ride?"

"Ronnie told me Josh was gonna drive me home, but he's already left." You cross your arms, then lean forward, "Please Jake, I just need someone to take me home."

He looks at you as he continues packing his guitar away, thinking it over. The last thing Jake wants is to be alone with you in a car, but he wouldn't dare abandon you at this bar. So, with a deep breath, he stands and nods toward the back entrance he and the band came through.

"My cars out there, I have to talk to the owner about our next date here, but I'll be out in a sec." Then he promptly leaves you.

You roll your eyes at the way he's acting. Could he not be civil? Why is he acting like he despises you all of the sudden? True, you hadn't talked in a while, but that wasn't solely your fault. You just shake your head and walk out the door, finding your way to where he parked in the rear lot.

You find his car, it isn't hard, it's the only one back here. Walking up to it, you expect it to be unlocked so you can sit while you wait, but the door doesn't open. You peer in through the window and of course all the doors are locked. With a huff you start back towards the door you left through, but notice there's no way to get back in through this entrance. They probably propped it open for the boys when they were coming in.

You groan softly and roll your eyes, deciding to lean against the white brick building as you wait for your chauffeur. You pick at your chipped nail polish as you wait, trying to keep yourself entertained as best you can. What was taking him so long?

Out in the empty lot alone, you think about tonight, what you'll say to him when he comes out. You plan out your words, plan to apologize. You'd rather end this grudge over extending it, there's nothing you really hate more than Jake hating you. Whatever last summer was is discontinued, and whether it will be continued or put to an end forever this year, you don't care which it is as long as Jake will look at you without a glare.

"Hey," you're slightly startled by a voice just to your right, and place a hand over your chest when you see a man approach you from that direction. You hadn't noticed his presence earlier, too wrapped up in your thoughts. He chuckles softly and holds his hand out as though to calm you, smiling softly, "sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," you shake your head, watching as he moves to you, standing a few feet away, "I just wasn't paying attention."

"Oh that's never good," he shakes his head and tisks his tongue at you, "you should always be aware of your surroundings young lady."

"I guess so." You shrug, growing uncomfortable in his presence.

Who is this guy?

His hair is gray and stringy, clothes wrinkled and dirty. He looks vaguely familiar, like a passing stranger you have seen once. Whoever he is, he's coming closer and doesn't seem to have the intention of leaving you alone.

"Are you here alone?" He asks.

"Oh, no," you drop your hands to clasp them in front of your waist, nodding your head back towards the door, "my friend is just getting his things. I'm waiting for him."

You didn't know what to call Jake at the moment. A friend will suffice though.

You observe the back lot, noticing there's still no one else around. Just you and this stranger who is slowly making his way closer to you. You slyly take a step away from him, trying to keep some space between you. You don't know who he is or what he is capable of.

"And he let you out here all by yourself?" He asks, taking a wide step, giving no time to move away, "That sounds like a bad friend to me."

You frown softly at his words. It wasn't like you hated Jake, it was just awkward around him after last summer, but you knew for certain that he isn't a bad person.

What was taking him so long anyway? You wish he'd come out now so this creep could leave you alone already.

"Who in their right mind would leave such a pretty girl out here? You won't mind if I keep you company, right?" He grins and comes even closer, "How old are you sweetheart?"

You don't answer, you're paralyzed. He licks his lips and scans you over, placing his hands on either side of your head on the brick wall. You protectively put your hands up in front of you to keep him away, trying to find your voice but it's gone.

"How'd you get into that bar anyway, hon? You can't barely be 21..." he traces his dirty fingernail down the side of your cheek and tips your chin back, making you whimper in fear, "you've still got that innocent look in your eye. It's so pretty when a girl is still a virgin, I just love it."

Your breathing gets uneven and your eyes well up with frightened tears, finally whispering out, "Please get away from me."

"Oh no no no," he twirls a lock of your hair around his finger and stares at it, "I'm not letting you out of my sight, I'm not stupid like your friend."

"He's not stupid," you tremble nervously, defending Jake even in his absence, "and he's gonna be out soon so you better get away from me."

You think at least. It's right now that you regret being so rude to him earlier. Perhaps if you approached him differently or said something else, he would be out here by now.

"Or what?" He wheezes and his terrible breath blows right into your face, making you squeeze your eyes shut, "It's his own damn fault he let you out of his sight, so I'm gonna have my fill."

"Stop," you try to shove him away but he roughly pins your shoulders to the wall, keeping you in place and make you wince and cry out, "get off of me!"

"You better stay fucking quiet or I swear to God I'll make sure-" he's shoved away from you to the ground and you're pushed behind someone.

It's a blur, and the street lamp doesn't provide much lighting, but when you see the long hair from behind and notice the abandoned guitar case on the ground nearby, you know it's him.

"Get the fuck away from her." Jake breathes out low and intimidating, stalking towards the man who is beginning to pick himself up from the concrete.

He wipes his hands on his jeans and lifts his chin at Jake, slurring out with a glare, "Oh, you're the kid who was onstage with your cutesy little rock band."

"Yeah, and you're the drunk who got kicked out before we could even start the set," he counters back, "I should beat your fucking face in for even looking in her direction, get out of my sight."

"Aw, mad because I touched your sweet girlfriend?" He teases with glazed, drunken eyes and a belch, "I was gonna make sure she was nice and well taken care of while you were-"

Jake shoves him roughly once again, making the guy trip backwards with a huff. You stand back, watching it happen with wide eyes, watching Jake defend you.

"Leave, right now." He grits his teeth, "Don't make me tell you again."

The man stands up straight and wipes his hands once more on his shirt mumbling something gruffly under his breath before looking back at you with a wink and a slimy grin. Then, he turns and stumbles away. Jake doesn't look back to you until the stranger is out of sight, and when he does, he immediately walks up to you and tugs you into his arms.

You clutch the front of his slightly damp shirt, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to settle your breathing. You're so shaken up, but so glad Jake is here. If jake weren't here you don't know what would have happened. He rubs your back comfortingly, keeping you enveloped in his arms.

"Let's go, Y/N," he murmurs after a moment of just holding you, then leads you over to his car with his arm still protectively around you.

He opens the passenger door for you and lets you step in, shutting the door and jogging back for his guitar case. You sit there silently, tucking your knees beneath your chin and staring out the windshield, turning numb.

One of the doors open and he sets his case in the back seat before getting in the front and sticking the keys into the ignition. You keep your eyes out the windshield, pulling your seatbelt on and buckling it. His palm softly touches the top of your shoulder, and he gently rubs it over your t-shirt. You don't look over at him.

He asks if you're okay.

"Just take me home, Jake." You whisper.

He doesn't say anything else to you, just reverses and leaves the parking lot, taking the road back to your house. He still knows the way. You stay silent the entire drive, the radio doesn't even play. You have never spent a silent drive with Jake, music was always playing, the two of you were always talking. The only sound now is the hum of the engine and turn of his steering wheel every so often.

Eventually, you end up on your street, and he parks at the end of your driveway, then turns his car off and turns to you. The interior lights provide just enough lighting for the two of you, and you hesitantly glance at him.

"Are you okay?" He asks once more, sincerity in his voice.

Just like the night you fell in his bedroom. Talk to him so he can fall asleep tonight.

You nod, "Yes."

"Did he touch you?" His voice is so soft, barely there, asking a question he's so scared to get the answer for.

You take a second, swallowing slowly as you open your mouth and whisper back, "He pushed me against the wall."

He lets out an upset, shaky breath, taking his seat belt off, "Did he hurt you, Y/N? I should have killed that son of a bitch just for laying a finger on you."

You put your head in your hands and grimace when he touches your shoulder blade, making him draw his hand back. When the man shoved you against the brick wall it hurt your upper back pretty bad.

"Can I look, Y/N?" He asks as you sit up and unbuckle your seatbelt.

You sniffle, turning so your back faces him and tugging the back of your shirt up to expose your back to him. He helps by lifting the bottom of your shirt up and examining the damage on your shoulder blades. The tender skin is beginning to bruise, with a few small scrapes that need to be aided. When he lightly traces his finger over the injured skin, you flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

"You need to clean this, Y/N," he says, lowering your shirt, "do you want help?"

The interior lights dim and you turn back to him, facing his silhouette. You wonder if he can see your distressed expression, wonder if he can see your watery eyes. All you do is hang your head and let your tears fall.

You want him to hold you, you want him to comfort you, you want him to kiss you and make you feel better. You want him back.

"Oh, Y/N..." he takes your hand and you reach across the center panel to hug him.

He holds you back, careful to avoid your wounds and slowly slips you onto his lap, letting you cry against him. He hushes you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple and whispering soft phrases of encouragement to calm you down. Words like 'you're okay now, it's okay' 'I got you, I won't let anything hurt you' 'just breathe sweet girl, take a deep breath for me'. Slowly but surely, you calm down and begin to pull away from him.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I shouldn't have let you out there alone. It was stupid of me."

"It's okay, Jake." you shake your head, finally finding your voice.

"No it's not, I shouldn't have let you go." His voice quavers and he looks at you with seriousness.

This isn't just about tonight.

You don't want to think about it right now, you don't want to discuss it. So you just let your eyes close and lean your forehead against his as you your hold his face between your palms. He rests his hands comfortably on your thighs and closes his eyes as well, taking breaths in time with you. In and out, slower and slower until finally, you open your eyes once again and pull back.

"Will you help me fix myself up, Jake?" You ask in a soft, broken.

Fix me. Only you know how.

"Of course I will." He says, opening his door and helping you get out.

When you make your way up to the door, his finger is hooked onto yours until you reach the steps and you let go first. When you walk inside it's easy to avoid your parents who are back in the living room occupied with the television. So, he follows you up the staircase and through your bedroom towards your bathroom.

Your room is the same, but barren. You've been gone for so long and you have left to unpack, he spots your suitcase and bags. It's dark, cold, the lightness is gone. The livelihood that occupied this space seems to no longer exist.

You flick the lights on in your bathroom and slowly remove your shirt as Jake softly closes the door to your bedroom. He pads over, rubbing his hands together nervously, watching you examine your back in the mirror with weakened eyes. It's one thing to feel your pain, but another to see it on you.

"I have a first aid kit," you mutter when he appears behind you, and you move to grab it from your drawer, opening it for him.

He looks through it as it sits on the vanity, finding the antiseptic wipes and taking them from the kit. He looks at your back, surveying it and looking to you in the mirror.

"Can we move the straps?" He asks, referring to the bra you wear.

You look to him and nod slightly, pulling them off your shoulders, then sighing and shaking your head, "Probably should just take it off, let me just-" you move your arms back to unclasp it yourself but hiss and pull your hands away as the position pulls at the already broken skin.

"I can-" he reaches for the clasp then looks to you, "do you want me to?"

"Are you okay with it?" You ask and he nods. "Okay."

Your bra falls and you instinctually cover your chest, glancing awkwardly at Jake in the reflection, but he's not looking at you. He notices your vulnerability though, but instead of acknowledging it verbally he just turns you two so your backs are now facing the mirror, leaving it out of your sight. He can't see your bare chest, and you can't see the scrapes on your skin.

You close your eyes as his hands delicately move over your back, gently cleaning you up and brushing your skin. He asks from time to time if it's okay, if he's hurting you. You feel as he applies the ointment and then covers your wounds with bandages. When he finishes, he places his hand on your bare shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. As he goes to remove it, you touch his hand with yours and keep it there, preventing him from leaving you.

Not yet, you think. Don't you dare leave me yet.

So he keeps his hand there, then places his other one on your opposite shoulder, hanging his head and closing his eyes. He feels as you lean your head to the side and press your cheek to the tops of his fingers, then turn your face and delicately kiss his knuckles. He frowns, wishing you hadn't, not because he dislikes it, but because it's so familiar and it makes his stomach ache. Lifting his head, he moves forward and kisses the base of the back your neck, then places a tender kiss to each of your shoulders. You lift your head and when he pulls away this time, you let him.

He grabs your shirt from the counter and helps you slip it on, and then you lead him out of your bathroom, down the steps and out onto the front porch. It's now that you turn to him, and he's looking shyly at you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. You take a breath, and then hook your arms around his neck and hug him. He places his hands on your lower back, keeping you close as you pull away.

"Thank you, Jakey." You whisper, the nickname slipping out like nothing ever happened between you two, like it's still the summer before.

He just nods like it's nothing, "Of course."

To him it is nothing, he'd help you with anything. If you called him that night in March when you got a flat tire getting off the expressway, alone and unsure what to do, he'd tell you to sit tight and be on his way to assist. If you ever needed help, Jake would go out of his way for you.

"Can you... not tell anyone about what happened? I'm just embarrassed about it all." You say and it makes his heart sink.

It wasn't your fault, none of this was. He hates that you're embarrassed but doesn't argue. It's what you want, he won't make it worse for you.

"I won't, Y/N, I promise."

"Thanks," you chuckle through a breath, "um, I guess I'll see you around?"

"Sure," he nods and begins to walk down the stairs, "have a good rest of your night, Y/N. Sorry about what happened again."

"Let's just forget about it," you wave it off, and watch him walk back to his car.

You don't wait till he drives off to go back inside, you open the door as soon as he reaches the car and make your way quickly back to your room. When you're in there, you close and lock your door and turn off all the lights before slipping into your bed and hiding yourself beneath the covers, wishing to disappear. Wishing Jake could have stayed.

He pulls his phone out when he gets inside and notices the multiple texts he's received from Josh, all asking where he is or if he ended up talking to the bar owner. Jake just turns his phone off then turns on the radio, trying to use the music to clear his head as he drives away.

But he can't. You're all he thinks about for the rest of the night. When he gets up to his house and hangs up his keys. When he brushes his teeth and changes out of his clothes. When he gets in bed and turns off his light.

You're on his mind, and he's on yours.

In the morning, Josh asks Jake about the bar owner.

"I don't know," he just shrugs, the bar overall giving him a bad feeling after last night’s post gig incident, "I don't think we should play there anymore."

"What do you mean?" Josh frowns, placing his hands on the countertop, "Why?"

"I don't know," Jake runs a hand over his face and sighs, getting up to get a glass of water, "it's not our scene. Do you remember that asshole who got escorted out last night? I don't want those kind of people at our gigs."

"There will be drunks at any bar, Jake," Josh argues, following his twin as he goes to the fridge, "at least he left."

He didn't though. He didn't fucking leave and worse of all he hurt you. The memory makes Jake boil with anger and he doesn't even realize he's begun to overfill his cup.

"Fuck," he murmurs, placing the pitcher back and setting his cup down.

Josh doesn't pay any mind to the spill and continues, "And it's one of the most popular bars around here. We can't just leave it; we always get such a good crowd there."

Jake looks at Josh, contemplating telling him what happened, but decides against it. No, he promised he wouldn't tell anyone. He promised you. But Josh knows he's hiding something. He always knows when something is being kept from him.

"What? What is it?" He asks, then slowly says, "You hooked up with that one bartender last night, didn't you? The one with the blonde money piece? And it was a bad fuck, so you don't wanna see her anymore? That's why you didn't get home till so late?"

Jake's frown is deep and he shakes his head, grabbing a dish towel and wiping up the mess he made, "Shut up, no, that's not why. I told you why."

"No, you're not telling me everything," Josh wiggles a finger at Jake, "as the lead singer of our band, let me stress that, our band, you need to tell me what's going on when it comes to the band. This isn't just you Jake, it's all of us."

Jake turns and leans against the counter, sighing out and closing his eyes with the wet towel in his fists. Josh begins to get worried, wondering if the owner didn't like their sound anymore, or if they got a bad review from someone else. But it's not that.

"You know," Jake slowly opens his eyes and tosses the towel at Josh who, thanks to his quick reflexes, catches it and meets his brothers sharp eyes, "you were supposed to drive Y/N home last night, after the gig."

"I was?" Josh frowns, then remembers Ronnie's text and slaps a hand up to his forehead, "Fuck, I was. Did you have to give her a ride?"

This could have been completely avoided if it weren't Josh. Jake wants to shove him and scream down his throat, blame this all on him.

"Yeah, after she was harassed by that drunk who got kicked out but didn't leave." Jake mutters bitterly.

Josh's jaw drops, "She was what?"

"You heard me, Josh," Jake grunts, pushing himself away from the counter and stepping over to him, "and that's why I don't want to play at the stupid, fucking, hipster bar anymore."

Josh swallows thickly and looks at the towel before looking up at Jake, "Okay, we won't play there."

"Glad it's settled." Jake turns to leave.

"Is she okay?" Josh quickly asks before Jake disappears.

Jake looks back at his brother, pauses for a second and nods, "Yeah, I think she's fine. A little shaken up, but good."

You stare at your bruised back as best you can in the mirror, sighing and turning away after you've seen enough. No tank tops for a while, you didn't want any questions about it, any peering eyes, any assumptions. You walk to your closet and pull out an old, baggy t-shirt and slip it on, before getting ready for the rest of the day.

You mainly plan on getting your room organized, finishing setting everything away and straightening it up. When you start, it's mind numbing. For hours you put everything in its place, end up moving and cleaning behind furniture, rearranging the lay out. You ignore the feeling of the bandages underneath your shirt as you move about, ignore the memory of last night.

You skipped breakfast that morning, and forgot about lunch too. It's nearing late afternoon, you've spent the entire day distracted by the movement of organizing everything, and when finally you finish, you don't feel any better. You feel terrible.

You pick up your phone and it only has one notification from a little over an hour ago.

Jake: are you doing ok?

You turn your phone off and get out of your room, grabbing a book and walking downstairs, hoping this is a better distraction for the rest of the day.

Your silence scares him, but he doesn't really know what he expected. The last text conversation you had was mid-august and you were the last one to say something. He wasn't even sure if you still had the same number, and tries to convince himself that you got a new phone, that's why you haven't replied.

But if that isn't the case, and you are just ignoring him, he can't really blame you. Sure, he helped you last night after you got hurt but that was the bare minimum. Maybe if he kept up with you while you were away, made an effort to stay in touch, none of that would have happened last night. Maybe if you tried as well nothing would have happened.

He gets lost in that cycle of "if this had been different" scenarios constantly now. Thinking back on what he should have done and what he wishes had gone differently. He can't change the past and he knows that, but he wishes he could. More than anything Jake wishes he could go back in time and fix everything.

He knows what to do to help him forget about his worries, and finds himself with his Les Paul in his lap, strumming away and drowning the world out.

Another week goes by, you hadn't seen Jake since the night at the bar. It was difficult to change your bandages alone, but you managed, and your back has healed significantly, but not fully gone just yet. You wake up with a text from Ronnie inviting you to come over for a swim.

You check your back in the mirror, the bruises still need time to fade. On the spot you come up with an excuse.

You: I can't hangout till later today

Ronnie: come over around 8 and we can have a fire and chill

You want to ask about the others, but you already know they'll most likely be there too. Wherever fire is, the boys aren't too far behind. So that's how you end up at the Kiszka's, a place you never thought you'd begin to feel queasy just from the sight of it. Jake's car is in the drive which doesn't make it any better for you.

You slip through the gate and smile when everyone greets you with a call of your name. Jake looks up at you from the package of graham crackers he's opening, but looks away almost immediately. He knew you were going to be here tonight, and despite the distance created between you two, he still wanted to see you.

You sit next to Ronnie at the circle around the fire pit, feeling a set of lingering eyes on you. It's Josh, and your brow furrows when you catch him. He just sends you a soft smile before looking away. For the most part, you think nothing of it, but then slowly start to wonder what the look was for. It was nearly a look of sympathy. You glance at Jake, but he's occupied with the roasting sticks and the bag of marshmallows now.

To even be in the same vicinity as Jake was making you anxious right now. Only a week ago he was holding you in his car, only a week ago he cleaned your shoulders. And no one here knew it but you two, making it unbelievably uncomfortable.

Ronnie knows nothing of the matter though, and to your knowledge none of the guys besides Jake do either, so it's a relaxed evening. The sun sets, s'mores are made, and laughter is shared. For the most part, when you don't see Jake out the corner of your eye or aren't given a tight smile from Josh, everything feels normal. You've missed this feeling so much, a feeling of being at home and not having to put on a show.

At school, you had to pretend to be someone else to make friends. Last summer you had to dip and hide behind lies to keep your secret. But now, despite the slight awkwardness with Jake lingering, you feel like there's nothing to hide. Nothing presently.

Later in the evening, as everyone is tidying things away, you're aside from the group and feel an arm touch your elbow. You turn, and see that it's Josh.

"Hey," he smiles warmly, "it's really good to have you back home."

"Thanks," you nod, his words comfort you immensely. Maybe this was why he was smiling at you all evening.

"Um, Jake told me about what happened the other night at the bar. I'm sorry, Y/N, I know I was supposed to give you a ride but it completely slipped my mind..." his voice fades as your face slowly drops and you turn to look for Jake.

He's not out here anymore, but in all honesty, you don't want to see him right now anyway. He promised not to tell anyone, he told you he wouldn't tell a soul. Yet, here Josh is apologizing for the incident he had nothing to do with. Your cheeks begin to blaze heat, warmth spreading down the back of your neck and back. You're so embarrassed and angry at once. You didn't want anyone to know.

It made you feel pitiful. You didn't want pity, you wanted to forget the night all together. There were so many things you want to forget but can't because of Jake. He's a reminder of so much. So much is a reminder of him.

"...and I want to let you know that we won't-"

"Josh it's okay." You cut him off, lifting a hand to stop him and shaking your head.

He stares at you for a second with his mouth agape mid-sentence, then licks his lips and sticks his hands in his short’s pockets. It reminds you of how Jake stood across from you on the porch the night he drove you home. So much reminds you of him, his twin is taunting you unknowingly right now.

"We won't go back to that bar, just so you know." Josh murmurs softly.

"What?" You frown. That bar was amazing and the crowd there was so supportive. You couldn't imagine them just walking away from a group like that, "No, keep performing there, please."

"Jake doesn't want to," he shakes his head, "that's initially why he told me about what happened. I don't want you or Ronnie or anyone I love around jerks like that either, Y/N. It really tore him up the next day, he was so upset."

They are so nice to you it hurts. Jake was so kind to you it was Saint like. If both of you could just drop the act already, there wouldn't be any blockage between you, the awkwardness would vanish.

You can't stop yourself from stepping forward and hugging Josh. He hugs you back, his hands sturdily plant themselves on your lower back. It's just then that Jake comes back from his trip to the kitchen and spots Josh holding you.

It slows him to a stop, and he slyly watches for a second, wondering what had happened. You pull away and nod as Josh says something to you. He brushes your arm with his hand as you smile softly. Jake can just barely make out your lips saying 'thank you' before the two of you rejoin the others and finish cleaning up.

Instead of following you, Jake returns to the house and back up to sit in his room alone. When he gets there, he shuts the door quietly and brings his hands up to ruffle through his hair. He tugs at the roots softly, thinking back to the hug you and Josh shared, then drops his hands with a sigh.

He loves his brother, and he loves you, but he hates the idea of you forgetting about him and still remembering Josh. Your voice echoes in his mind 'you're not the only one on the stage, you know? Maybe I came for the others?' and you probably weren't lying. Jake sometimes gets caught up in his conceit that he forgets people might go to his bands gigs for the others. What if you only went for Josh?

The acoustic guitar calls his name from its stand in the corner, and he moves toward it, picking it up by the neck and moving back to his mattress. He sits on the edge of it, placing the guitar in his lap and beginning to finger at the strings randomly. It immediately distracts his mind, and soon he is lost in the wind along with the music notes.

"Would you ask Jake to come back down?" You ask Josh quietly as everyone begins to head inside.

Ronnie said something about putting on a movie and the others agreed. Before you turned to walk with them you pulled Josh aside a second time and asked him. When he looks at you, there's curiosity in his eyes, but that same knowingness that's always been there. Josh has always known. So, instead of asking you why he just nods and tells you to wait, walking up to his twin’s bedroom and softly racking his knuckles against the door. He can hear the strumming through the door, he must be too busy playing to hear his knock, so he tries again.

"Who is it?" He asks, not pausing his playing but slowing down.

"It's Josh, Jake-"

"Leave me alone." He mutters, turning back to his guitar.

"Jake," Josh tries again, but is met with silence, so he just goes ahead and tells him, "Y/N wants to see you outside."

He gives Jake space after that, rather than lingering to wait and see like his nosy self wants to, he goes down to the living room where the others have gathered and makes up and excuse for you all. He covers for you, because he knows that's what you all would want from them. Privacy. It's what you both need right now.

Jake waits another moment, finishing out the song he had been playing before taking a slow inhale and exhale. He wants to see you, so bad. But talking sounds like a task he's unprepared for, he's not ready to say something to you, not ready to hear your voice. He's not ready to hear what you might say, he's afraid of what might come out of your mouth.

Because what if it's bad? What if you tell him you don't love him anymore? What if, to you, last year was a mistake?

He looks down at the guitar then up at the empty stand and finally sets it away, moving to his bedroom door and wrapping his hand around the knob. He doesn't twist or pull, just stands there for a second, gathering himself, then finally makes his way out.

You pace along the stone path that leads from the back of their house to the front. You liked this hidden area, not by the windows of the house, near the patio but also not too far away so he can still easily find you. Walking back and forth you count your steps. Five strides forward, turn, five strides back, repeat. You've repeated this at least ten times, maybe more, and as it gets darker and darker, you wonder if Josh even told Jake what you said.

But then, the back door creaks, and you hear Jake's soft footsteps as he walks out into the night. He spots you, and you stand still, waiting for him to come to you.

Right now you looked bewitching, standing there in the dark amongst the trees and the summertime bats flying overhead that have just come out of their places of hiding for the night. You've placed a spell on him, because his feet move without thinking, and before he knows it he's standing across from you on the path.

"Hi," you speak first.

"Hi," he echoes back, timid like. He doesn't want to talk, simply because he has no idea what to say.

"Thank you, for helping me." You start, clasping your hands in front of your waist because you don't know what else to do with them. You're just as nervous as him.

"I'd help you with anything, Y/N." His voice is tiny, and it makes you stare at his lips when he talks.

You nod your head, taking a hesitant half-step toward him before stopping and looking up at him again, "Josh told me, about how you don't want to perform there anymore."

He looks up at you with lifted brows and panicked eyes, "Oh, Y/N, I didn't mean to tell him about what happened to you but I didn't know how else to explain-"

To quiet him, you just take one of his hands in both of yours and hold it steady. He stops short, looking down at your hands then up to your face. You just stare at his hand, tracing your thumbs over the expanse of the back of it, along the bumps and dips his knuckles make. You're mesmerized by just how warm and soft it is while also being rough and calloused at the touch.

"I..." fuck, what were you going to say?

He steps to you and brings his other hand to hold yours, bringing both of them up to his chest. He wonders if you can feel his heartbeat. Your fingers softly curl into the material of his shirt, as if to brace yourself. The feel calms you down, and because of that you regain your train of thought.

"I missed you so much, Jakey." You try to keep an even voice, but it's so hard. You're already holding back so much you want to say to him.

"I missed you too," he nods.

Then, without another word, you wrap your arms around his torso and press your cheek to his chest. He hugs you back, resting his chin on the top of your head. You're both quiet, enjoying the moment in silence.

It's nice, serene. Birds flutter above, quick to get back to their warm nests before night falls. A gently breeze blows through the trees, creating a rushing sound amongst the branches and leaves, like an oceans waves. And just beyond the atmosphere, where Jake has begun to lift his eyes, stars break through the darkening canvas, white against the indigo, and he swears he can see your figure with the twinkling lights.

"I'm sorry I never called or texted you," your voice is but a tiny peep most wouldn't pay much attention to but Jake always listens for your voice, even when you're not around, just in case a piece of you is there somewhere.

He looks down at you, your eyes are closed as you lean your head on his chest, but he still shakes his head and says, "I'm sorry too, I could have called you and I didn't. I don't know why I didn't."

"I thought you didn't like me anymore." It's a hurt, barely there whisper.

He can't fight the smile that grows on his face, because, "I love you, Y/N."

You bite your lip, slowly opening your eyes and nodding your head, "I still love you too."

Relief washes over you both, like a warm shower of water, like that first summer rain. It's refreshing, quenching thirst from a long, drawn out drought. You wish for it to rain forever with Jake.

"I could never not like you," he says, smoothing a palm over the back of your head, down your hair and stopping at the nape of your neck, "even when I was a dick to you I still wanted nothing more than to be nice. But I'm too stubborn, you should slap me right across the face for being stubborn."

"While that's appealing and all, I'd rather kiss you, Jake." You push down chuckles as you finally pull away, blinking up at him with big, hoping eyes.

He looks so good right now in the night. His hair, framing his face and stopping right at his jawline, you long to run your fingers through, perhaps shampoo and condition it for him too. You want to feel his plump lips on your skin, and wonder if he still remembers your favorite spots to be kissed (spoiler alert: of course he does). You never ever want to let go of Jake or leave his sight, you want to stay by his side forever and not worry about anything else ever again.

"Let's kiss then." He hums, promptly leaning down and molding his perfect mouth to yours.

His lips are so soft running over yours, pulling you in and hypnotizing you. Spreading a fever throughout your senses that leaves you sick. Lovesick. You kiss him back, eagerly placing your hands on his cheeks and smiling into his mouth, making your teeth click against his. Neither of you care.

From his face your hands move into his hair, slipping through the strands repeatedly. He draws you nearer, unable to bear the thought of this moment ever ending. You don't stop until air is needed and you both pull back just giving you both enough time to catch a gasping breath then diving back into each other’s lips.

It's passionate and deep and it makes time feel like it ceases to exist. There is no such thing as seconds, minutes, or hours, time has stopped in this moment. No one else exists right now, it is just you and Jake, freely making out on the path beside his house. Eventually, you both have to pull back, but neither of you leave each other’s arms, you both feel all too much at home to leave.

"I missed that," you breathe out, then thread your fingers through his hair, "and your hair..."

"What do you think?" He asks, hopeful look in his eye.

You bite your lip, looking at him with a soft smile, "Very cute, very rockstar."

"Cute?" He pulls a face, then leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth which only makes your smile widen.

"It's hot, okay? That gig on Saturday, when I got to see you flip it and push it back... Jake you have no idea what you do to a girl." You chuckle timidly.

He smiles back, smugly replying, "Yeah I do. But I love hearing you tell me."

You smile falters as your hair playing comes to a swift pause, and you roll your eyes, thinking back to the older women that were fawning over Jake and how he probably eats it all up. They were older than you, and gorgeous and experienced and smart, and it made you self-conscious. You can assume that Jake's been around that for a while since you've been gone.

"I love hearing it from you because it only matters from you," he cups your face and makes you look at him, he must have noticed your slight doubt. There's a lilt in his teasing voice, "so please enlighten me on what it did to you."

You just grin and shake your head, leaning back so he reels you in against his chest where you sigh and rest your head. There's no need to tell him what it does to you, he probably already knows. It's quiet again, comfortably so. You both relish the silence, just in each other’s hold with no interruption.

"How's your back?" He asks, careful not to touch it where you got injured. His voice rumbles in his chest against your ear, making your feel like you're under calm, deep water,

"Better," your voice is a hum, calm and soothed as he sways the two of you side to side, "still a little bruised. You can touch it though."

"Are you sure?" He asks and you nod, so he begins to run his hand up and down your back slowly. It hurts a little, but you've missed the feeling of Jake's back rubs so much that you ignore the slight ache and let him touch you.

"I wish I never left you," you whisper.

"You had to go though." He replies just as softly, "You left, but that doesn't mean I had to let go of you."

You know what he means. When you left, that distance got in between too easily, too fast. It could have been prevented, but neither of you made that commitment. Commitment is what you needed.

"Don't let go again, Jake." You say, hinting at the idea of a second chance.

He promises, "I won't."

There's a feeling in your stomach, and you can't tell what it is. It partly feels like you're going to soar through the sky, that you're a rocket ship about to blast off to the moon from happiness. Because he's just told you he won't let you go. But, it also feels like a warning, a churning in your tummy, similar to the spin of a hurricane. Soon, there will be a storm.

After the secret embrace, you go join the others and Jake strays up to his room. You wanted to ask Jake to just go with you in the living room, maybe even ask him to hold your hand, but felt that it was too soon. You'd have to ease the idea of sharing whatever you two are (you're not even sure yourself, that will surely be another discussion) to the group to him. Discussions are needed, you put that on the list of things you want to tell Jake.

In order for this to work, and God do you want this to work, conversations are needed and commitment is necessary. To you at least. You're not sure if those are necessities for Jake, but if he wants you, then he better be willing to compromise.

He wants you, of course he does. But there are also so many other commitments he has, the idea of adding another to the list feels like an overload. If he wants you though, surely he'll make space, right?

It's been two days since you last saw Jake, slowly slipping into the month of June, and you've planned to meet. It's the parking lot behind the mall, a place neither of you have frequented much, but neither do any of your friends so it was the perfect spot to talk secret. He parks his old car beside yours and leans over to open the passenger side door for you, letting you slip in with him.

"So, what's the plan?" He asks, thinking that he's ready for anything, thinking that he will do anything to be able to be with you.

"What makes you think I have a plan?" The simper on your face gives it away immediately.

He grins, voice deep and knowing , "Come on, Y/N."

It makes your stomach flip and goosebump crawl up your neck.

"Okay," you breathe out, settling back into the passenger seat and staring down at your hands for a moment before looking up at him, "we need to tell them."

That makes his stomach drop.

"Tell who?" He asks.

Who else? you want to say. It wasn't hard to notice Jake is already guarded about this. He liked the secretiveness; he didn't necessarily want to prove his twin right. He never likes to give Josh that satisfaction.

"The group, I mean," you shrug and turn to him, "I don't really like keeping secrets from them, Jake."

"I thought you didn't want to hurt Ronnie."

"Do you think she'll mind?"

You didn't want to hurt Ronnie. Initially, you didn't want her to know because she's your friend, and you didn't want her to think you're only over for Jake. But then the lying started and that just made it worse for you.

"Well, no. We don't have to tell them about last summer though, right? Or December?" He scratches the back of his hair, a nervous blush fading across his cheeks.

You suck in a breath and hold it, thinking it over. Was this a compromise? In order to be public with Jake, no one could know about the past? It didn't sound too bad, honestly, but that's just another lie you'll have to tell. Another lie to Ronnie. Another to the boys. You feel as though your whole life from December 2013 to now has been made up of lies, the only words you know how to speak are those of lies.

"I guess that's alright," you nod, feeling his hand come to place itself on your bare knee.

It's a reassuring touch, and when he flips palm over you slip your hand into his like it's second nature. His fingers wrap around your hand, giving you a gentle squeeze. It says trust me and makes your eyes lock with his. He tilts his head the right, his dark hair swinging as he does so, and you nod once again. You trust him.

"When should we tell them?" You ask, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand, up and down in slow strokes.

He bites his lip, thinking it over, then says, "We don't need to make a big show of it," he shrugs his shoulders, "I can just mention it to everyone."

"No, I think I should tell Ronnie at least." You say, tucking your feet beneath your body.

He was her brother, sure, but you're just as much of a sister to her. You want to tell Ronnie, as some sort of redemption, like it will cancel out all the lies you've told.

"If you want to," he nods, finally breaking the eye contact as a car drives past. He loosens his grip on your hand when it happens, almost dropping it until he realizes it's no one either of you know.

You try to think nothing of it, and readjust your grip on his hand. But it's so hard to ignore. He was going to drop your hand. It would be a lie to admit it didn't hurt. Maybe you're just over thinking it though...

"Are you sure about this, Jake?" You ask, looking down at your loosened hands.

To you he seems unsure, already skittish.

He looks back to you with an earnest nod of his head, "Yes, Y/N. Positive."

That settles it then. You tell him that you'll tell Ronnie the next time you see her, and he plans on telling the band around then as well. A pleased smile sizzles on your face, and when he notices it he can't help but feel a little happy himself. If you're happy, he's happy, and that's all what matters. That's all that should ever matter.

"We should go on a date, too." You propose, slipping your hand from his then trailing your fingers up his bare arm to his shoulder then tucking a stray hair behind his ear.

He chuckles, finding it a little random, "We've been on dates before though."

Not really though. You didn't necessarily consider the creek walks after hooking up and drive thru milkshakes prior to car sex as dates. You wanted Jake to pick you up at eight with flowers, take you to a restaurant or maybe even the movie theater for some corny romantic comedy, and give you a good nights kiss before he drops you off at home. Sure, it was backwards from this all started, but it was important to you. Call it old fashioned.

"A proper, date." You tilt your head with serious eyes, moving your hand to rest against his neck, "You can choose when and where, I just want it to be normal."

"Normal?" He can't help but laugh a little, and you ignore that feeling of judgement. Jake would never judge you.

"Please Jake," you whine softly with pouting lips, removing your hand and tucking it under your arm as you cross them, "I'm serious."

He looks up at you, and for a second time he realizes that you've changed. A year away has changed you and it's not necessarily bad, but very different. He doesn't know you now, so maybe you're right. Maybe a date, just to reintroduce and get to know each other all over again is needed. So, he swallows and slowly begins to nod his head, grabbing your hand. You let him hold it.

"I'm sorry, you're right." He plays with your fingers, moving them up and down, opening and closing them, "So, I'll be taking you on a date, I guess. And I get to choose where?"

"And when." Your smile grows back. He'd do anything to keep that smile in place.

"'Kay," he nods once more, "I'll give you a date to last the decades."

Slowly, almost cautiously, he leans toward you and presses a tender kiss to your lips. Just as slowly, you sink into it, and eventually let your mouths move in sync.

It's the second time you've kissed this summer. You're both still so unsure of yourselves. You've fallen out of practice, how does this work again? Everything Jake once knew about you, is now a Rubik’s cube puzzle. Which way should he turn? How quick can solve you?

"Do you want to...?" You asks and he just softly shakes his head.

"Let's just start slow again. I want to..." he pulls away, looking you over, twirling some of your hair in between his fingers, "go slow."

"Slow is good." You nod, looking down at his lips.

Days with Jake went slowly. It was the good kind of slow though. Not that waiting room feeling when you never know if it's going to end. No, not like that at all. And though it's true, that "time flies when you're having fun" statement, but slow days with Jake were better and you didn't want them end, and when they eventually did, it felt like being forced away. Like Velcro unsticking itself, a slow, scratchy, riiiiiip.

The day you designated for telling Ronnie your little secret sneaks up on you. You're outside by the pool, your legs dangling in the cool water with her by your side. You know you have to tell her eventually, and why not just tear it off quick like a band aid, right?"

"Ron?" You murmur when there's a lull in your conversation, "I need to tell you something."

"Shoot," she shrugs, adjusting her sunglasses and sitting back with her palms behind her. She's so casual, you almost want to tell her to brace herself. She has no idea what you're about to drop on her.

"There's this guy," you start, swinging your feet through the water, watching the waves they create as you kick.

She gasps, sitting up and looking at you with excitement, "No way."

"Yeah..." you trail off with a giggle as she shakes your arm with a squeal.

"Who is it?" She presses, smiling as she removes her sunglasses, "Do I know him?"

"Yes," you nod, looking back to your feet with are just squiggles beauty the surface of the water, ignoring the nervous feeling in your stomach.

"Oh my god, who is it?" She sighs, sitting forward to try and read your face, as if she could guess correctly if she saw your eyes.

She probably could, which is why you're avoiding her face. If you look at Ronnie, you're sure you won't be able to tell her. You want to tell her so bad, but at the same time, you're so scared. What if she thinks you're only friends with her because of Jake? What if your friendship fades even more than it has? What if you and Jake end up like last summer? Who's side would she choose, her friend’s or her brother’s? Definitely the latter.

As close as you are to Ronnie, Jake is her brother. He's her blood and has known her whole life. She's known him her whole life. There's no way she would choose you over him, you wouldn't blame her either.

Because you know what life is like without him in it, and you'd never go back to it if you had the option. If it's a choice, Jake is always the correct answer.

"We've been talking for a while," you start, just barely glancing at her then away, "hanging out a few times," you're just stalling now, "he's really nice to me and I like him a lot-"

"Oh for god’s sake, Y/N, just give me a name already!" She whines exasperatedly, resting her elbows on her thighs as she leans forward and looks at you.

You sit up and take a breath, finally just letting it out, "It's Jake."

Like a band aid. Riiiiiip.

Her jaw drops and she sits up slowly, look at you with shock. She would have never guessed, it maybe last summer, but now, no. She thought you and Jake despised each other almost, that you didn't like him, and he didn't like you. So, this news, is so unexpected.

"I'm sorry Ronnie. I was gonna tell you sooner but I didn't know how you'd feel about it all and didn't want you to think-" it comes out like a waterfall until her interrupts you.

"Jake?" Her voice is soft, almost bittersweet.

You nod, and silence takes over both of you. You can't read it. Is she happy or sad? Is she angry?

You think back to the lake, when you held her hand in the dark and she whispered how she wanted you and Jake to get together. Surely, she feels the same.

A voice sounds from behind you, one loud and boisterous and oh so similar to Jake's, "Someone ring a bell! Ronnie, you owe me a fifty!"

You turn and see Josh walking towards you two. He's absent of shoes and a shirt, clad in only in his swim trunks and a smug smirk on his face. It widens into a giddy grin when he meets your eyes and he quickens his speed as he approaches, sticking his palm out for Ronnie to place a fifty dollar bill into.

She looks at him, "What are you-?"

"I just got word of a certain couple you said wouldn't get together until after a certain someone graduated college." He says, looking at you with a sly wink, then back to Ronnie, "I'm pretty sure you said you were so positive that you'd get fifty dollars."

"Nuh uh!" Ronnie frowns, "You said they'd get together before she left! So, you're not right either!"

"I'm closer," he shrugs, "pay up."

"Fuck off," she rolls her eyes then looks to you, "when did you all?"

"Uh, I can't remember," you shake your head, waving it off, "recently. I think around a week and a half ago?"

Such a lie. It's been going on since December 2013, two years. But you wouldn't dare tell her that.

You then look up to Josh with squinting eyes from the sun, "Jake told you I guess?"

"He just told all of us." Josh confirms, and as if on cue, Sam and Danny come rushing out of the house in their swimsuits, jumping into the pool.

You glance around Josh and see Jake who shoots you a cheesy smile and a tiny wave. You smile back at him with a wave of your own, feeling Ronnie's eyes on you. When you look back at her, she's watching you with a sentimental look on her face.

You can't help but laugh lightly, "What is it?"

"You realize this is like my dream, right?" She giggles, grabbing your hands in hers with a gentle shake, "Either Jake or Josh, I was going to try my hardest to set you up with one."

"And Jake won?" Josh places a hand over his heart wand tilts his head back, always the one for theatrics, "Baby Hands I am hurt by this betrayal."

"Hell yeah I won," Jake chuckles, coming up behind you and lifting you from the ledge, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek.

You can't help but smile through your hot blush. It was really nice. To be touched by Jake in front of the others. To be kissed. To not pretend.

The others watch this first public display of affection with their own different looks of surprise. As of this proved it, that they didn't really believe it before but this solidifies it. You and Jake are together.

"No, give us a real smooch!" Sam hollers from the deep end to which Danny nods and whistles around his fingers.

You wave them off, stepping away from Jake's grasp and turning back to him and Josh. Josh is looking at you with raised brows, shocked himself even though he has always had an inkling.

He can't help but ask, "So, this is recent?"

You and Jake nod in sync.

"But how long have you two," he wiggles his finger between you and Jake, "you know, liked each other?"

"That's quite the personal question, Joshua." You play it off with a shake off your head and a smirk, crossing your arms.

It pushes your cleavage together which Jake shamelessly looks down at. He can now, you're his and he's yours. Everyone knows it.

But you know what Josh is alluding to. The odd behavior at the lake and firework show last summer. How close you and Jake were after that party a couple years ago. He knows it's been longer than just this summer, he isn't clueless. Like he's told you before, Jake's his twin, nothing can be kept from him.

"I'll keep it short and sweet," Jake hums, looking at you with the sweetest eyes, "I liked her from the moment my eyes landed on her."

A group groan sounds and even you can't help but pull a face at the cringey comment from Jake.

"Oh god, I don't even know if I want you all to be together anymore," Ronnie fakes a gag as she stands up and walks from the pool.

You laugh and look at Jake. He takes your hand and nods at you, and you'd nod back. Then, a gentle squeeze as you begin to follow after Ronnie and hold his hand until you're too far away and eventually your hands fall apart. He watches you, with a soft smile as you catch you to his sister who is going to grab a glass of water. Josh steps over to his twin and watches with him, glancing from you to him with the slightest smile.

He's happy for Jake.

"I'm not going to lie," Josh starts, and adds, "I mean how can I?" Then he places a hand on Jake's shoulder and nods, "You really lucked out."

He scoffs, turning to his twin, "Tell me about it."

They smile together, both of them knowing that you're way out of his league, but perfect nonetheless. How or why you chose Jake is a mystery to the others, but for you it just makes sense. You and Jake just mesh like that, and you hope it never unsticks.

The day carries on, all of you hooked on the pool during a hot day like today. You and Jake swim together, pulling each other close when you have the chance. You're both addicted to this new feeling, the feeling of not having to hide away. Why it took you both so long to finally do this, neither of you are sure. You and Jake talk quietly to each other in the water as Ronnie lays out in the sun and the other boys play around in the deeper end.

It's sweet little phrases between you two, nothing more. He has his arms wrapped around your waist and yours are hooked loosely around his neck, gazing up into his eyes.

"Wrote something for you." He murmurs, "Played it just now in the garage for the guys."

"You didn't," you look at him with wide eyes and a half smile.

"Mhm," he hums, licks his lips and smiling at you, "I did, I think you'll like it."

"When can I hear it?" You ask.

"At our next show." His voice continues that low humming, swaying you in the water with him just like you're dancing.

"What's it called?" You whisper, eyes glancing down to his full lips, wanting to kiss him so badly after telling you that.

You want to kiss him all over and thank him a million times. You haven't even heard the song yet, but you know it's a good one. If Jake wrote it, it's good. That's just how it is. He's a mastermind.

He pins his lower lip between his perfect teeth then lets it go, shrugging, "You'll know it when you hear it."

"No no no," you whine softly, cupping his face with a hand, "tell me please."

"Come to our show, please." He mimics.

You grin, "That was a given, I'll be going to all your shows, you know that."

"So you'll hear it Friday," he nods, now glancing at your lips then up to your eyes, "patience, babe."

You let out a shaky breath. All of it seems to be getting to you all at once now. Jake holding you, his low voice, his words, the way he's not afraid to be seen with you like this right now. It's been so long... too long.

He can tell by the look in your eyes that something has flipped in you, and it makes him smirk. You're turned on, he knows it. Just by that shift in your tone, the way your arms tighten around him, that desperation in your eyes. You want him.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asks.

Whatever he wants. You should be ashamed how willing you are but who could blame you? It's been a year since you've felt good, a year of terrible dates and one-night stands and guys who don't know who you are, what you like, how you like it best. Jake though, he knows. You're sure that he still does. You haven't changed that much, and some things never change.

"Nothing," you rush out, "do you want to do something?"

"Yes I do," he replies just as fast, "do you want to... do something with me?"

It's so suggestive, yet so plain.

"Yes, please."

The conversation is thick with vagueness, you could quite literally be talking about anything. But both of you know. You both know what the other wants. It's like a secret language.

He looks at you for a moment, then whispers before swimming off, "Tonight."

That's it. You stand by yourself in the pool, trying to ignore that dull ache between your thighs but can't. It's a throbbing need, you're unsure how you'll be able to wait till tonight. Instead of getting strait of the pool (you're honestly convinced your legs won't work on dry land at the moment) you dunk yourself underwater and clear your head.

Air leaves your lungs through little bubbles until eventually you run out, and you're left with limited time before you have to crash back through the surface. You let the refreshing moment of time calm you down, the muffled noise from the pool soothes you, and when your lungs begin to burn you rise and take a big gulp of air. Then, pushing your hair back and blinking the water from your eyes, you slowly wade over the steps and exit the pool.

Joining Ronnie, you lay back and let the rays drying the water from your skin. With your eyes closed you feel her hand reach over and grab yours, giving it a soft squeeze. You turn your head to check her.

She smiles, "So, you and Jake really are together?"

You smile back, "Don't worry this isn't an episode of Punk'd."

"Better not be," she giggles.

It makes your chest swell when she lets go of your hand and lays back. You look down at the boys, watching them splash one another and goof off. Jake turns back to you, and you wave at him. He salutes you with a silly face before turning back, making you laugh through a quick exhale and lay back down as well. If this was what it felt like to finally let go of your secrets, you'll never tell a lie again.

The afternoon blooms into evening, and soon the stars and moon begin to peak through the sky. Jake has gifted you a shirt of his to wear, terrycloth with a deep v in the front. Everyone ventures back inside, you and Jake slip upstairs.

He pulls you into his room, kissing you once the door is closed. You kiss him back, delicately touching his jaw as he grips the sides of the shirt you wear. There was something about seeing you in his clothes that made him want to throw your entire wardrobe away. If he had a say, you'd only wear his shirts every day.

"Do you want to shower?" He asks, his voice muffled through the kiss, "Real quick?"

"That sounds nice," you sigh, feeling him pull away.

He gives you privacy, you're not sure why, but you like it. When you lock the doors to that Jack and Jill bathroom you're transported back to that party. You look on the back of Jake's door, and there's still no mirror there. You quickly rinse yourself off, borrowing his shampoo and conditioner as well as body wash. When you finish, and you begin to dry yourself off and ring your hair gently, you feel surrounded by Jake. You double check what body wash he uses before wrapping your towel securely around yourself and walking to his door.

Slowly, you open it, and are met by a wet haired Jake wrapped in a towel of his own. His dark locks drip and stick to the side of his neck, his skin is reddened slightly, you suspect from the heat of his shower. You frown softly, but lick your lips as you enjoy the view and shut the bathroom door behind yourself, leaning back against it until his eyes move to you.

"I used the other bathroom." He explains, stepping to you.

"You could have just joined me." You purr, your voice making his mouth water and pupils dilate.

"I know," he purrs back just as smooth, "wanted to wait though. You know, patience and all that."

"Yes, I'm sure you're well acquainted?" A smile, as soft as the sun just begin to rise on a foggy morning, decorates your face.

"Yes, I am," he whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you flush against him, your back no longer pressed to the door. He tilts his head and runs the side of his nose against yours, murmuring, "you know, I waited for you. As hard as it is to believe because I fucking ignored you like an idiot, I didn't see anyone else when you left."

"Seriously?" You blink at him.

"Yeah," he nods with honesty.

There were so many girls after their gigs that would gather around. So many kisses on cheeks and hugs and sweet-smelling perfume and pretty, long eyelashes and autographing cleavage. Lingering touches provided. Suggestive looks given. Sexy phrases whispered. But Jake never fell for it. He felt like it would do a disservice to you. That he would be cheating.

"Wish I could say the same," you mumble, shyly looking away.

You were opposite. You needed distractions, and when an opportunity arose for you to hookup and potentially get your mind off him, you took it. Of course, it never lasted, and it never satisfied you. And, most of the time, you'd close your eyes and try to imagine Jake hovering above you in your dorm room instead. It never did the trick. Jake was so much better than the boys at school, it didn't make sense pretending he was giving you mediocre treatment.

He grins, pulling his face back and looking down at you, you can feel his thumbs rubbing up and down over the material of the towel on your torso, "You didn't wait?"

"No," you whine with embarrassment, "I wish I did though, Jake. You're the only one who... no one compares."

"Is that so?" It really feeds his ego, boosts his confidence.

Only his touch, his words, his kiss can make you fall apart. What a gift he has among many others.

You nod, because you're too busy trying to kiss him to respond verbally. He makes you chase after his lips, finding amusement in your desperation. He considers making you wait another day, making you be patient, but that would be a punishment not just for you but to him as well and decides against it. It's okay to give into things, it's okay to let yourself enjoy things. Haven't both of you learned that yet?

So, your lips mold together like perfect puzzle pieces. He tastes delicious, you feel like heaven, and soon both of you are lost in the movement. Your hands slip around his body, gliding across his smooth, clean skin, moving up his back to his shoulder blades. He tugs you in closer, grunting against your lips and trying to free you from your towel.

"This okay?" He asks, slipping his fingers under the material.

You nod, slowly moving your hands downward to the top of his towel and replying, "It's only fair if you do the same though."

He chuckles, and together you both drop your towels. He steps away, and you stand there, unsure of what to do with yourself. What should you do with your hands? How should you stand? Why is he just looking at you?

His eyes trace over your figure leisurely, noting every dip and curve. He notices it all, he loves it all.

As much as you want to hide away, you don't stop yourself from looking back at him. He's poised just so, but casual, naturally standing. Like this is normal, like it hasn't changed a bit.

"C'mere," his voice is so quiet, but you listen to him and step forward, letting him take you in his arms, "you're beautiful."

Your body blushes, and you hide your face against the side of his, "Thank you."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks.

You nod, "I've been dying for this."

With that, he begins to walk you backwards towards his bed, but you stop when the back of your legs touch the mattress. Instead of lying back against it, you place your hands on his chest and as you slowly move to sit down, your hands trail down, tracing over her torso and stomach. He stands in front of you, lifting your chin with one of his fingers to meet his eyes.

You look up at him, holding his steady stare. It's a longing look, as if there is nothing either of you can do about all this tension. Who is going to break it first?

You decide you will, and lean forward, kissing over his stomach. Your lips are hot and wet against his skin, it almost tickles, but causes blood to flow straight to the head of his cock, making it twitch. You notice it, moving your kisses lower and lower, running your lips over his hip bones and v-line and happy trail. When you nip at his skin a choked groan falls from his lips. You glance at him, and he's watching you intently, wondering what your next move will be.

Will you? Or won't you?

You will.

You sit back and adjust your position, spitting into your hand, just how he taught you last year, and beginning to pump his warm length in your palm. Shaky breaths and drawn out sighs fall from his lips, they are your favorite sounds.

A cut off moan comes a little too loudly from him when you kiss the tip of his cock, making his eyes fly open and look down to you immediately. You lick his head tentatively before kissing it again, all the while stroking him steadily.

"You-" he starts but stops, his jaw dropping lower and his eyebrows knitting together when you just lightly suckle on his head once again before popping off of his and licking the underside. You can't help but grin cheekily at his reaction when you sit back, how he's speechless. When he catches his breath, he continues, "You learnt this when you went away?"

An affirmative hum sounds from you as you move back to take him into your mouth again. He sucks in a quick breath and bites his lip, swiftly gathering your damp hair into his fist as a loose, makeshift ponytail. His cheeks turn rosy as you begin to bob your head, watching you suck him perfectly.

"Fuck," he hisses as his top hits the back of your throat, "you don't ha- have to, Y/N."

You want to though. He tastes so good, his pre cum leaks onto your tongue and you pull off for a second, looking up at him with wide eyes. Your hand replaces your tongue when he caresses your cheek, holding your sweet eyes with his darkened ones.

"Cum in my mouth," you rasp, licking your lips.

He shakes his head, removing your hand from him and moving you back onto his bed, "Don't wanna cum in your pretty mouth," he murmurs, "wanna put it in that sweet cunt of yours."

"Please," you gasp, only just now realizing how wet you are when your legs part, "you can. I'm on birth control now."

"Good girl," he whispers with a smirk as he leans down over you and kisses over your cheek, adding, “smart, college girl."

That does something to you. It causes a tiny whine to drift out of you airily, and you look to him with lust filled eyes. He looks back, his eyes telling you that he's thinking of what to say next, and when decides, he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Quietly, he says just for you to hear, "My girl."

"Yours." You breathe out, hooking your arms around his neck and pressing your bare chest against his, "All yours, Jake. I'm yours."

He cracks a smile and nods, kissing you fully and murmuring, "Settle down, baby, you're all worked up and I haven't even started."

"Jake, come on," you whine, insisting that you can't help it. You really can't, it's been so long and you've missed him so much and he's right there with you.

"Okay," he whispers, looking down to where he rests, hot and heavy on your thigh, then looks back up to you, "are you ready?"

"Yes," you immediately reply.

He reaches down and grabs his cock, moving to run it up and down through your wetness. You sigh at the feeling, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy it. It's Jake. That is your Jake with you, not some frat boy your roommates boyfriend knows, not the guy from your 8 am lecture, it's Jake. Just this alone is good enough for you.

He watches you revel in this feeling, and though he would smile he doesn't. He almost can't believe it, how pleased you already are. Is it that easy? Or does he just have that magic touch? Or maybe it's because it's you, and him, and no one else was made for either of you. Maybe it's that.

Licking his lips, he stops at your entrance and slowly sinks himself in. His eyes fall shut and he moans lowly in unison with you. He places his hands on either side of your head, keeping himself from collapsing on top of you as he slowly, oh so slowly, sinks further and further into your heat.

"Oh, Jake," you mewl, having to place a hand over your mouth to keep your volume down.

He nods with his eyes closed, silently agreeing with your moan of pleasure. When he's bottomed out a puff of air leaves his lips and he grits his teeth together, slowly opening his eyes and looking down at you. Your brows are pinched and your eyes are closed, just a tiny trace of delight written on your otherwise tense facial features. An airy moan slips from you and he nearly slips onto you as you clench around him, making him swoop down to silence your sounds with a deep kiss.

"With everyone nearby you better keep it down sweetheart." He mumbles into your mouth.

"I'm trying Jake," you whisper, choking on your breath when you feel him pull out an inch before pressing back in.

"Thought you'd be used to being quiet with having a dorm." He says, kissing up your cheek to your temple, giving you another experimental stroke which makes you sigh.

Turning your head, you look at him and hum with slight embarrassment, "It’s easy to stay quiet when it's so bad."

"Oh, you poor thing," he grins while he coos, delivering two steady thrusts then stalling, "they never got you off?"

"Only one," you confess, which annoys him until you add, "but it was because I was touching myself while he did it."

"You're too good for those boys," he says, licking into your mouth and breathing over your lips, "it's a shame they never got to see the real thing, none of them deserve it anyway though.”

He makes you feel so special, like you’re a gift. To him you are, and he’s so glad you fell into his lap that one night.

Now, he's begun to set pace for himself. Leisurely pulling out, slowly pushing back in, his dick stretching you out deliciously but feeling like it's at home. You honestly never want him to pull out.

"Did you have to touch yourself when they left?" He whispers, "Did you wait for your roommate to leave before you played with this pretty pussy? You use your fingers still, or did you get some big girl toys when you went away?"

You stare at him with an open mouth, unable to form words right now. Sure, he's fucking you, but the way he's talking causes you to blush.

"Tell me," he urges, his hips beginning to slam against yours, skin hitting skin slowly fills the room, "did you think of me while you did it?"

"Yes I did," you admit, bringing one hand up to his hair and the other down to his lower back, clawing at the skin, "used my fingers, they were never as good as this though. None of them are as good as you."

You would feel embarrassed sharing this if it were anyone else, but it's Jake. You know this just turns him on even more. You like that it does.

"Damn right," he grunts, pumping his hips rapidly and using the palm of his hand to smooth back some of the hair that has fallen onto your forehead.

Panting fills the small space between you, his bed creaks softly, gentle sounds of love flood from your mouths. Neither of you care, and if the others hear fuck it. They know about you two now, so it feels as though there are no boundaries for you and Jake. If they hear something they'll mind their business, because it's official. You're together.

"Thank you," it's a rushed whimper from you, followed by a tiny yelp when his tip brushes your cervix.

Two of his fingers prod your lips and you oblige, opening your mouth and sucking on the digits with eyes rolled back. He keeps pounding into you, making you whine and moan around his fingers which help only a little with the noise control. He stares at you and removes his fingers, moving them down to touch your clit in tight circles.

You push your palm harder into his lower back, hinting silently that you want it deeper. He complies, slowing down and moving deeper, making you see stars and cry softly. The air is filled with a fog of sex, warmth overtaking the room and making your skin sweat with desire. His movements are precise and expert, he knows your body better than yourself.

"Oh, Jake," you moan, squeezing your eyes and pulling him forward, burying your face into the crook of his neck, "it's so good."

"Is it, honey?" He breathes back, head getting lost in the sound of your pretty voice.

"Yes, don't stop," both hands pinch your fingers nails into his smooth skin, "never stop."

"I'm not gonna stop baby," he chuckles breathlessly, "you wanna cum? You close?"

"More," you try to buck your hips in time with his thrusts, making him pull back and sit on his haunches, grabbing your hips and starting to thrust harder, deeper from this angle, "yes!"

"Don't fight it," he tells you.

He knows how long you have waited for this, how long you have gone without a decent fuck. You deserve this, he won't make you wait.

You squeeze around him, making a choked groan slip from him and his hips stutter. Your back arches, and he licks over one of your nipples, kissing it then switching to the other. Airy sighs slip from your lips, soft cries of pleasure, shaky moans.

"Come on, baby, give it to me," he grunts, fervently rubbing on your clit, "give it up, let it go."

You're lost in the haze, and you know you're about to hit your high as his voice and praises grow further and further away. When it snaps, your body tenses and a you bite your teeth together, trying to not wail too loudly. Jake wants to force your mouth open and tell you to be as loud as you want, but stays realistic. He helps you ride out your orgasm, sighing and groaning softly as you tighten around his cock.

"Fuck, yes," he chokes out, bringing you out of the mist of your climax and making you focus on his strained face. His brows are drawn together, eyes closed and lip between his teeth. He lets go as he shudders out, "I'm close, baby."

"Give me it," you hum out, noticing the unevenness of his strokes, telling you that he doesn't have much longer, "stay inside, Jake."

"I'm gonna-" he gasps when you shift, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he moves to cradle you, keeping his face against your shoulder, "baby, I'm-" he can't finish his sentences, constantly interrupting himself with hiccupping gasps and sudden groans until finally, he lets go.

"That's it," you sigh, feeling him fill you up and softly moaning at the warm sensation.

When he stills, you lock your legs around his hips to keep him pressed against you and inside, kissing his temple as soft hums and whimpers fall from him. One hand slowly drags up and down the expanse of his back while the other sifts softly through his hair. He sighs, pressing his lips to your shoulder and slowly letting himself lay on you, his body melting in yours.

"I love you," you whisper into his ear, unhooking your legs and bringing your feet down to rest on the sheets.

His lips plant pecks along your collarbone, up your neck and then to your mouth, mumbling the words back to you, "I love you, so much."

He kisses you softly, not wanting to break away from you yet. He's gentle, like he's restoring a painting or touching the petals of a lovely dahlia. He doesn't want to hurt you, doesn't want to cause any damage. It's just little pecks. One kiss, then he pulls away and glances over your face, then another before pulling back once more. Your chest warms with every kiss he gifts you.

"I love you more." You whisper back during his pull back, right before he comes back in and gives you another brush.

He smiles and chuckles lowly, adjusting you in his arms and gazing down at you, "I believe that's quite impossible, considering that I love you the most."

It's so sickly sweet. It makes you constrict around him, making him exhale quickly at the feeling. He looks down between you two, where you connect, then back to your still flushed face.

Your eyes are closed, and you breathe out, "I love you more than anything, Jake."

He comes down and connects your lips, and this time you kiss him back. It's hot and passionate and heavy with desire. You're both aroused once more. He can feel you throb around him, and you feel him stiffen inside of you.

"Fuck me again, Jake." You whimper, opening your eyes and looking at him desperately, "I need it."

"Fuck," he whispers to himself from your words, giving his hips a few short pumps, which makes you both whine, still slightly sensitive, "you sure?"

You nod, a moan laced sigh floating into the air from your chest as he begins to thrust slowly. All over again, he starts. You’ve never done this before, and neither has he. A second round so close to the first, but neither of you can resist.

Languid strokes in and out of your wetness, sweet words spoken. So many 'I love you's, you can't even count them. Tears well up in your eyes and slip out, trailing down the sides of your face as you cup his in your hands, staring at him with an open mouth. You both pant in the space between each other, which isn't much, and he presses his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes.

Soon words are no longer spoken, just soft, satisfied sounds leaving your lips. It comes faster this time, and you finish together. He holds you close, you grip his skin, lowly moaning into each other’s ears. Neither of you move, just settling into the other and laying there weak from all the pleasure.

"Thank you," you whisper, lazy smile blooming on you face, "that was so good."

"You needed that," he says, beginning to pull himself up and carefully pulling out of you, "you feel better?"

"So much," you exhale, stretching your arms as he sits back on his heels between your bent legs, "oh..." You look down between your thighs, feeling him begin to slip out of you, awkwardly moving to shut your legs.

He stops you though, placing his hands on your knees and keeping them open, staring down at the mess dripping from your entrance. It would be a lie if Jake said he wasn't affected by the scene, he keeps his gaze there with parted lips and dark eyes.

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you, and squeak out, "Sorry."

"No," he shakes his head, coming back down over you and kissing you quickly, "don't you say sorry for that."

"It's making a mess," you whisper again.

He just shakes his once more, humming back at the same volume, "Then I'll just clean it up."

With that he gets up and quickly retrieves a wet wash cloth, sitting beside you and gently wiping you clean. You watch his face as he moves the warm cloth over you until he's finished and goes to throw it in the hamper. You lay back on his mattress, staring at the ceiling, and he crawls in with you, bringing the sheets up to cover you all.

Cuddled close to one another, your legs tangled, and fingers intertwined, calm takes over. Sleep threatens to shut your eyelids, but you don't want to yet. You want to stay up and talk with Jake through the whole night.

"Today was a good day," he murmurs, kissing your forehead.

Nodding your head, you moving closer to his chest, "I'm so happy, Jake."

"Me too," he replies, a smile painting itself on his features as he thinks back on the day.

It really couldn't have gone better. For either of you.

He was expecting an 'knew it' moment or some other dismissive phrase from the guys when he shared the news. Instead, they all paused and nodded with congratulatory smiles. They must have had some idea about Jake's feelings towards you, so the fact that you two are together made them happy for him.

You were just so glad Ronnie didn't take it the wrong way. That is just as much happy to her as it is for you and Jake.

You let him pull you closer as he turns onto his back, holding you to his chest. Your palm rests over his beating heart, your cheek on his shoulder. He stares up at the ceiling and you study the side of his profile.

He's perfect, truly. You've never seen someone so lovely, just lying there beside you, doing nothing special at all. Even now, he's perfect.

Jake is made for stages and spotlights, screaming fans and autographs. A constant applause following him, fans cheering him on. You know he's going to get there someday, the band all together will. It can be pictured now, award shows and world tours, platinum records, Grammy nominations.

And you'd stick by him through it all.

Eventually, your eyelids get heavy, and his even breaths lull you to sleep. He follows suit, falling into his dreams where you meet up with him.

His bedroom has great light, you relearn that when you wake up. The curtains are pulled back from his window, allowing the sun to come through and warm up the room. You're facing away from him now, but his chest is pressed to your back, arm draped over your waist, keeping you close. Your hand moves and rests on top of his, letting him know you've woken up.

He's been awake for about twenty minutes now, but didn't want to leave. When he woke up, his eyes met your back, tracing the leftover light violet and gray marks there with his gaze. That's when he secured his arm around you, thinking back to that night and never wanting anything like it to happen again. He feels your hand touch his, and leans down to trace his lips over the healing skin softly. His lips become a makeshift compress, soothing the still slightly tender skin.

You try to peek at him over your shoulder, but can't see him. So, you turn and come face to face instead, inviting the good morning kiss he gives you.

"How did you sleep?" He asks, taking your hand in his beneath the bedsheets.

"Good," you nod, "I haven't slept like that in so long."

"Me either," he says.

Neither of you have slept well in months.

"When should I go?" You ask.

"You shouldn't," he shakes his head, his voice still thick and deep from sleep, "stay."

"I have to go home eventually," you chuckle, slowly sitting up, clutching the sheet to your bare chest for unknown reasons. You're still a little shy around Jake, even after last night’s events. It feels like the first time all over again.

His fingers drift up and down the line of your back slowly, swirling at your lower back then climbing back upwards to press his warm palm at the top. You close your eyes, enjoying the morning touches he's giving.

"Wish you could stay forever." He says, finally sitting up with you, kissing your cheek after moving some of your hair.

You look over at him with soft eyes. Not all wishes can come true, unfortunately.

Your hand reaches out and smooths over his hair, bring him closer by the back of his head and abandoning the sheet, cupping his jaw with your other hand, and kissing him easily. When you pull back, he watches you with tempting eyes, which then dropping lower and meet your chest.

A laugh almost comes out of your mouth but you promptly turn and slip out of his bed, walking naked across his room. He tells you to borrow another one of his shirts, and so you begin to shuffle through his dresser.

He enjoys the view, lounging back lazily against his pillows, "This is all making it so much harder for your departure."

You glance at him over your shoulder once you've decided on stealing a dark blue Henley top of his. You slip it over your head, flipping your hair out from under the collar and walking to where your shorts were discarded last night. He watches you in the silence of his room, enjoying the quietness and domesticity. It's just you getting dressed in his room, but it causes his heart to beat a little faster.

"Let me make you breakfast, at least." He says, sitting up and standing to join you.

"Put some pants on," you giggle, slipping your shorts on, planning on leaving your pale yellow bikini behind as a parting gift for him to see later anyway.

He grabs some boxers and slips them up his legs before pulling you into his arms. His face comes closer to yours and his lips ghost over your own as he murmurs, "Now, let me feed you."

"I can grab something at my house."

"I won't let you leave hungry."

"Who said I was?" You hum back, letting his hands wander downward to palm over your ass, "You just want me to stay."

"You caught me," he says, trying to drag you back to his bed, with a warm and tempting voice, “now stay."

"Nope, not a chance, Jake. I have to see my parents. I didn't even plan on staying the night." You easily get out of his grip and make your way to the door, but he grabs you hand and pulls you back to his chest, staring down at you with seductive eyes. You scoff, shaking your head at him, "Sexy eyes won't fool me."

"But they're working just a little, right Y/N?" He hums, connecting your lips before you have a chance to answer him.

When he pulls away, you're then nearly convinced to stay. But, reality sets in and you raise your brows at him, silently questioning if he's gonna let you go home or not.

"You're tough," he smirks, letting go of you and moving to his door.

When he twists the knob and opens it, you're shocked to see a visitor on the other side.

"Josh?" You frown.

He stands there like a deer caught in headlights, wide eyes, and reddening cheeks. You glance at Jake who looks a mixture of embarrassment and anger. How long has his twin just been standing out there?

"Ever heard of privacy, Josh?" Jake grumbles, letting go of the knob and crossing his arms.

Josh chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and mumbling, "I was only out here for like two seconds, and mind you, privacy is a two way street. Last night you all needed to keep some things more private so your neighbor could actually get some sleep."

Your face burns and you hide it behind your hands. You knew you and Jake were too loud last night. Neither of you could really bring yourselves to care last night though. That's what you get.

"I have to go," you shake your head, stepping out of his room and past Josh.

Jake snatches a sweatshirt from his floor and follows after you with a glare shot at his twin and a mumble from his lips, "I’ll walk you out."

You grab your bag where you left it at the bottom of the staircase railing yesterday and let yourself out. Jake follows you to the car and you both stop before you get in.

"Sorry about Josh," he says, running his hand through his hair.

"It's okay," you shake your head, trying to forget the awkward moment to make your embarrassment fade away quicker, "at least he knows now."

"Yeah," he nods, stepping closer and holding your waist, "are you gonna come by again soon?"

"Whenever you want," you smile, resting your hands on his chest.

You're both becoming well accustomed to this public relationship, unafraid to touch each other like this now. Happy to not hide away. There are no limits, besides a few of course. But he can kiss you now, and he realizes that, outside with you.

He pecks your lips, "I'll be seein' you soon then."

You kiss him back before he lets you go, watching you drive down his long driveway. When he turns back to walk inside, he spots his mother looking out the front window, peeking around the curtain with a cup of coffee. Theres soft smile on her lips, and when she makes eye contact with him, she backs away from the window.

Mother always knows best.