#jaciweek25

2. RULES

All forms of participation* are allowed during this event, including artwork, writing, etc.

*No AI generated content is to be used for participating in this event. The aim of this event is to promote creativity, which we do not believe AI aligns with.

NSFW content is allowed for this event - however, this content must be correctly labelled as such and must be correctly tagged in order to prevent any upset. Don't Like Don't Read always, but tagging is essential in order for individuals to be able to pick out that which they would not enjoy. Be the change you want to see, etc.

Due to allowing NSFW content, this event is not open to participation for minors. This is not to be debated, and will not be argued.

Participants can use both prompts per day if they so choose, but this is not required for taking part.

Please feel free to create as little as much per day/prompt as you wish.

We would prefer if the work for this event is new and not a chapter of an existing work.

3. PROMPT LIST

MONDAY (7th)

Cabin

Pine

TUESDAY (8th)

Sunburn

Lightning

WEDNESDAY (9th)

Camp

Shake

THURSDAY (10th)

Barbecue

Bait

FRIDAY (11th)

Ice cream

Hunt

4. FAQ

» How do I join?

First and foremost, the only thing you need to 'join' this event is to take part during the event dates. I would love if you are taking part if you could let us know in the comments of this post or something, but you really don't have to. If you use the tag, we'll see it.

» Is there an Ao3 collection to add my work to?

Yes! More info to be added...

» Is there a tumblr account to have my work reblogged to for this event?

At the time this is being posted, no. But, because I'm mildly senile and don't understand tumblr communities, if there's enough interest, one will be made in order to keep up with everyone's work.

DIVIDERS BY: @/cafekitsune from this post.

Jacob follows behind him, shouting over the sound of the rain to his lover. They've been 'companions' for a while now, and Jacob has never seen him do... Well, whatever this is before.

He hates that term, companions. They're lovers, Staci isn't his dog. But for that, they'd probably find themselves on the wrong end of a noose. Just for being in love.

"Huh? Wha'dya mean?"

"What're you countin? It's weird."

"You ain't ever done it?"

He takes Jacob's silence as an answer.

"The flash from the lightning comes, and then you count how long it is 'till the thunder comes. Every five seconds is one mile."

The older man kicks his horse - Morgan - into a trot to catch up with Staci.

"That can't be true," he tells him, making eye contact.

Staci just shrugs, thinking of how many times he has sat and counted it. He has done it since he was just a boy, working on his father's ranch, or sitting in the loft of the barn and watching the storm pass, his face and body illuminated by a small lantern that he would use to read his books.

"Could be an old wives tale," he comments, batting the comment away with his hand. "I dunno. I like to think it's true. It's what the people in my books as a boy did too."

"Look at you - all hoity-toity with your story books," Jacob rolls his eyes in jest, pulling the collar of his coat up to protect his neck from the rain, "Some of us had better things to do, than to have our noses in make believe all the time."

"You sound jealous! I offered to teach you how t' read!"

Despite the fact Staci's family weren't from money, both he and Jacob are aware that the Pratt's never struggled as much as Jacob's parents. Staci's mother was able to provide him with a somewhat decent education, teaching him to read and write and how to do basic maths. His father taught him to tend to crops and how to work with animals.

He was given a solid foundation for living on his own, but Jacob's dad only taught him how to solve his problems using his fists.

And Jacob quickly learnt in his youth that he and his two younger brothers were all problems for his father, and as such, he solved it in the same way he taught his sons to.

"Our parents did what they could," Jacob replies, an abrupt end to the conversation. He defends his parents - for some godforsaken reason. Jacob was lucky to survive his childhood, with the horrors he was put through, the trials and tests he endured daily.

Staci decides not to comment.

Around a mile or so up the hill, the setting sun has made the area darker and darker, so Staci lights his lantern and holds it out in front of them, illuminating the path.

The rain is beating down, now. Sideways. It shows no sign of letting up.

"Come on, Darlin', we're almost there."

Jacob shakes his head at the pet name.

He enjoys such things, in private. But Hell, if you start saying lovey-dovey stuff like that in public, there's more and more chance of getting caught. He doesn't want to hide their love, the bond they share, the passionate moments they have had together. He wants to put a band around Staci's finger, retire to an old ranch house somewhere out West and live the end of their days out there with a dog and maybe even a kid.

But society would not be forgiving to them, should the cat be let out of the bag.

They head up the rest of the hill and eventually stumble upon the lookout, a small clearing with some rocks and a cliff, overlooking the city.

"C'mon, we'll leave the horses here, 'least try to keep 'em dry."

The horses are well behaved enough to remain un-hitched, but they immediately bow their heads to rip thick blades of wet grass from the Earth.

"Would you look at that..."

Jacob is stood by the cliff edge already, gazing out at the view in front of him. The city is illuminated, small, white and yellow lights twinkling in the distance, the passing of the tram signalled by a singular red light on it's rear. Everything looks so small from up here, so cosy. Through the rain, he can just about make out the local bar and the city hall, the clothing shop and the gunsmith that he has been known to frequent.

"It's a beauty, right?"

Staci joins him, taking his hat off and leaning his head against Jacob's shoulder. His hair is already dripping wet, as is the rest of him, so the action doesn't bother him much. Jacob wraps his arm around Staci, holding him close.

"Can't believe we never thought 'bout coming up here sooner..."

He loves that city. He does. It puts him a million miles away from everything that reminds him of his childhood - the wooden shack that felt like it could give way any second, the emptiness of the land around them, putting him at his father's mercy whether he saw another day.

That was a long time ago now, but having seen the city and the hustle and bustle, something in him wants to go back. Not to the horror, but to the peace, to the isolation, to where he and Staci can be happy and, well, in love, together, without the judgement of others.

"I hope you know I do... I do love you."

Staci smiles, "I love you, too. Let's sit down, we can see if we can find a dry enough spot for a campfire."

"You know, my ma used to tell me this thing," Staci starts, nestling into the crook of Jacobs arm as they sit against a rock, a tall tree overhead giving just enough shade to keep them dry, but not enough for them to light a fire. They had given up on that venture. "I used to be shit scared of the thunder, when I was real little. So she said that when it thunders, it was because the dragon from my book was angry that he had nothin' to eat, so we had to wait for him to go to the general store 'fore it stopped."

Jacob cracks a small at the thought of a small Staci, hiding behind his mother's legs imaging an angry dragon in the sky.

"That's real sweet," he tells Staci, deciding not to tell him about how his dad would leave him at the general store to walk the fifteen miles home if it was raining, for character building, or some shit like that. "You had a good mom."

"I did," Staci agrees, his eyes still lingering on the lights from the city, but his mind full of images of his mother, her kind face and gentle nature. "She was a good woman."

"Listen..."

Jacob takes a deep breath.

"I think we should move."

"Move? Where'd you get all your money from, Mr Money Bags?"

"I think we have both made a decent wage, you doin' your teaching and me doin' my carpentry. We could sell the apartment, that would give us a few dollars to play about with-"

"Jacob, are you bein' serious right now?"

Staci's Southern drawl is making an appearance as he sits up, looking at Jacob with a furrowed brow, concern radiating from his eyes.

"You want us to up and move right when we've settled in?"

"Took you three whole years to settle in?"

"Not the point - where has this come from?"

"I just... Listen, I love ya. I do. I don't want to have to hide that no more, not from you, not from myself, and especially not in the place we call home. There's too many busy bodies out here in the city - and with these photograph camera things appearing, do you wanna risk getting caught?"

"Okay, so we move out West, then what? How are we gonna make ends meet?"

"You know how to tend a farm!"

It all seems so black and white in Jacob's mind.

It's all so blurry in Staci's.

"And I don't want to do that! I love my job, I love teachin' them kids things their parents can't! I love giving them... Giving them a chance to be something better than a farmer!"

"I just... I just wanna love you and not be ashamed of it."

Staci puts a hand on Jacob's face, his thumb gently rubbing against his cheek.

"I know you do. An' maybe one day, we can do just that. But it ain't today, and I don't want to give up my career yet."

Jacob sighs, resting his face against Staci's hand.

"I love you. And one day we will, I promise."

A flash of lightning illuminates the world around them, and there's a pause before the rumble of thunder comes.

Camp Foxden starts on July 9th, and plays host to a number of troubled pre-teens who are at risk of being kicked out of school or being removed from their homes due to their behaviour. Staci, being the man that he is, decided to volunteer for the Summer - something to put on a job application, you know? - He had told his friends at the Spread Eagle, but there was a genuine excitement in his voice, and he had been looking forward to the week where he could inspire someone, to change someone’s life!

But with the group he has, he and them may as well be at home.

Exasperated and nearing the end of his tether, he holds his hands up in defeat.

"Alright then," he says, turning his back on the group, and facing the canoes sat on the shoreline which are waiting for occupants. He dismisses them with a wave of his hand. "Divide yourselves into five groups of two, and pick a canoe."

As the group divide themselves and a low murmur of chatter begins to fill the air, he begins to register his regret. Why the Hell did he think he was cut out for something like this?

He heads into the storage cabin to fetch another canoe for himself to occupy, and drags it out to the lake shore. The cabin smells of damp.

"Staci."

Footsteps approach him from his right, from behind the cabins.

"One councillor per five kids when it's a water based activity."

Staci drops the canoe so half of it is in the water, and turns to look at the speaker - who he recognises as being Jack. Wait... Jake?

He's ridiculously tall and just as muscular. Staci's seen him around, periodically, but they hadn't worked together. In the evenings, when the kids are all asleep - or supposed to be, at least - the councillors go over the day's activity and see if there's anything they need to share or work on, and, if there's nothing left to discuss, drink. As long as they're not shitfaced or seen by the kids, they're allowed a quiet drink, he was told.

He's never seen... Jacob! That's his name. He's never seen Jacob there.

"Oh- I'm sorry-" he falls over his own words, "I didn't know."

"Hm. It was in your handbook." The judgement in his voice is obvious.

"Yeah-"

"Anyway. HEY! Do not hit each other with the oars, they are not toys!"

He almost makes Staci flinch.

"Kids, eh?" He jokes with a nervous laugh, suddenly feeling as though he is one of the kids in the group, embarrassed and in trouble.

Jacob glares at him, his brow furrowed in frustration.

"They have troubled home lives. We can cut them some slack, I think. Are you guys ready or what? You - what's your name? Evan? Put your life jacket back on or you're staying on land, Evan - and put down that oar!"

Without so much as passing Staci another glance, Jacob turns his back and fetches two oars from the shed. When he gets back to Staci, he holds an oar out.

"What's your name? Oh, whatever. Peaches. With me."

And so, the activity went, well, like that. Jacob took charge, and Staci sat beside him the whole time feeling like a scolded dog.

"Right. 'Bout time to pack it in," Jacob says quietly to Staci, before clearing his throat and calling out the five boats of teenagers in front of them. "For the last part of the activity..."

His voice is so demanding... Is that the right word? Authoritative, maybe. He sounds like a dad, wrangling his kids up. It appears to come so naturally to him, it makes Staci wonder if he has kids waiting for him at home, and maybe that's why he doesn't socialise much - because he's calling his kids.

"...And your camp councillor will demonstrate!"

Staci's head whips up. What a terrible time to zone out.

"Huh?"

He can't ignore the smirk on Jacob's face.

"Should've listened."

"No- Jacob -"

"C'mon now, don't want to let the kids down, do we?2

"What am I doling?"

"Jumping in the water."

The breath leaves his lungs, and his heart drops in his chest and about hits the floor of the boat.

"Jump already!"

The children start to jeer Staci. He swallows either his fear or his pride.

Shaky legs do well to support him as he rises to his feet, the canoe wobbling beneath him as he dares to do so. The water is a dull, murky green, it's uninviting and doesn't suggest that the best of swimming experiences is about to be had.

"Come on, we haven't got all day."

A steadying hand appears on his ankle, grounding him. He doesn't look down. He feels as though he could be stood on top of a skyscraper, looking down into the abyss.

He's not afraid of the water, as such. It's perfectly fine, really, from up here, in the boat, where he's dry and definitely not at risk of drowning - okay. He might be a bit afraid of the water.

"I will jump in after you, the kids will follow. I'm a good swimmer, if you end up in shit creek, I've got you."

The water fills his nose before he even realises it's surrounding his body. It's cold and wet and he feels like he's nine again, hopelessly kicking for any hope of survival, desperately needing a breath of oxygen but too scared to open his mouth. His feet kick helplessly, his hands clawing at nothing.

There's noises and bubbles and he quickly becomes disoriented, knowing full well it was Jacob's firm push to his back that sent him tumbling in face first.

Fortunately, his life jacket manages to flip him the right way up, and, in the midst of his chaos and panic, something or maybe someone grabs his hand and pulls him effortlessly through the water, like a kite through the air.

Oxygen comes like a new lease of life. He chokes a cough out and gasps a few breaths of air in, noting how everything sounds muffled and how the hand that had dragged him from the dept continues to hold him.

"Are you alright, or what?"

The voice echoes around him as if they are in a cave, and, realising his hand is lonely now, he uses them to wipe his face free of the water and remove the hair from his eyes.

As he had fallen into the water, Staci's shoe had caught on the side of the boat, taking it with him as he went in, resulting in not only Jacob joining him in the water, but both of them finding fresh air under the capsized vessel.

"Sorry -" he chokes out, still feeling breathless and panicked, and trying to find a rhythm to his kicking in order to keep himself afloat. "I'm sorry- I'm okay-"

"Chill out man. It was the plan. You act a bit stupid for 'em, it makes 'em laugh, they chill out and join in."

The body of the boat above them blocks all the sunlight from them, and through the darkness, Jacob's piercing eyes still stand out, watching Staci, trapping him as though he is prey.

It feels strangely intimate.

"Jesus Christ, Peaches. Grow a pair, will you?"

"Oh, yeah, because you asked if I wanted to-"

"I don't care what you want to do."

Staci's breath catches in his throat, and he realises how close he and Jacob are. He can smell the coffee and cigarette smoke on his breath.

After just a momentary stare down, Jacob dips his head under the water and leaves. His absence grows heavy on Staci, who, if he wasn't under the water and in charge of a group of minors, would've enjoyed to see where that was going.

It's ten thirty at night, and the kids are supposed to be in bed. Staci knows better than to expect them to be actually sleeping, but, as per the handbook thank you very much Jacob, as long as there's no drugs, fighting, or other 18+ rated activities going on, they are advised to leave them to it.

After the day behind him, Staci was going to join the other camp councillors in the staff area just as he would most nights and see what alcohol they had to offer - instead, however, he decides to settle his internal conflict and asks for directions to Jacob's sleeping quarters, and sets off to his cabin.

He hesitates before knocking on the door. Nerves and growing in his throat, a lump that he is incapable of swallowing down. Why does he feel nervous? What's the worst that's going to happen? Jacob will disagree with him and come tomorrow morning when camp is over and everyone heads home, he'll never have to see him again?

Boo fucking hoo.

A few deep breaths.

"What?"

The call comes following Staci's angry knock on the door. He immediately regrets it, and contemplates turning back - he can make out it was some kids acting up.

No. Do not let him walk all over you.

Jacob is sat at his desk, a singular light on with a book in his hand. His hair isn't quite as neat as it normally is, and he has reading glasses perched on his face, which is the first time Staci has seen them. Although he has only seen him a handful of times, and all of those before now were during the day.

He looks surprised and somehow unimpressed at the same time, his expression almost unreadable.

"Oh. It's you. What do you want, Peaches?"

Staci braces himself.

"My name is Staci. Not Peaches, and I would appreciate it if you started calling me by my actually name."

"Okay. Staci. Is that all?"

He steps in and closes the door behind him, and perhaps it's the fact that Jacob is sat down and the fact that he has already let Staci make a point that gives the man the burst of confidence he needs to continue.

"No, actually - that thing you pulled today, out in the lake. That was not cool of you. You put me on thee spot in front of all of those kids, and-and I wasn't prepared-"

The lump in his throat is getting bigger.

Why are his eyes stinging?

His voice falters-

"Are you fucking crying?"

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wipes his eyes with his hands and looks at Jacob in disgusted confusion, as the man had just done something as stupid as proclaimed his love for him, or something.

"No!"

So much for confidence. He sounds like an angry toddler.

Jacob rolls his eyes and looks away from Staci, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Right then," he says, rolling his eyes. "Not crying. Carry on with your little speech."

"It's not my little speech - who the Hell do you think you are? I asked if I could not do the fucking water based stuff and said that it was fine and made me do it anyway, and then you come along all high and mighty and about fucking drowns me!"

"I grabbed you, didn't I?"

"It's not the point, Jacob - you shouldn't have done that, you shouldn't have put me on the spot in front of everyone like that. It ain't right, it was embarrassing, and I felt like you undermined me in front of everyone."

Staci's chest is heaving with anxiety, and it isn't helped by the fact that once the last word falls from his mouth, Jacob offers him nothing. Not a word. But he stares at him, intense eye contact which Staci refuses to back down from.

Those piercing blue eyes.

His cheeks flush red.

"You're right," he submits, quietly. "I am sorry, Staci. I was unaware of your discomfort with water, and it was wrong of me to force you into that situation. You told me you didn't want to and I did it anyway. I do this thing every single year and I just assumed I knew better.”

Well fuck.

That wasn't supposed to happen. There was meant to be a raging argument, a burning hatred between the men that would put Staci off ever coming back.

He doesn't know what to do, now.

"Well..." He suddenly feels calmer, but stupid. "Thank you, I appreciate the apology."

Jacob nods but doesn't break eye contact. The silence engulfs them.

"I'm sorry for coming to your room - I didn't -"

"Don't apologise. You had something to say. This is where you would find me."

Silence.

"Do you want... Do you want a drink? I've got some whisky in here, somewhere..."

Jacob stands up and then rifles through a drawer to pull the bottle out. He pulls out two glasses and Staci wonders where the Hell he has got all of this stuff from - his room has a bed, a desk, a chair, and a light. He doesn't even have proper drawers!

"C'mon, Staci,"

The way he says his name is almost intoxicating enough for Staci, never mind when whisky will accompany it.

"One won't hurt."

His mouth and throat are dry, his breath wheezing out of him as his eyes welcome a new sunlight. For a moment, he feels like he's in his own bed, slightly hungover and ready for a fat breakfast - but then he remembers the room smells of whisky and that Jacob was somewhere around here.

"Finally awake," Jacob comments as he watches the younger man sit up, his eyes taking in the room around him. He doesn't have a clue where he is. "Good morning. Did you know you snore like a fucking chainsaw?"

"Why the fuck am I in your bed?" Staci's voice is raspy and he rubs his face with his hands, clearing his eyes of any sleep.

"It's alright, we haven't become fuck buddies or anything, I just thought you could handle your liquor better than you actually can. I think your options were either going to bed, or vomiting - and I know which one I preferred."

"Fucks sake... I'm sorry - I really didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, stop apologising for everything. But you best get back off to your cabin, 'fore the kids get up and then you're seen leaving mine. Wouldn't give the best impression now, would it?"

Jacob walks over to him and extends a hand, and for a moment, Staci thinks it's to help him, but Jacob rests his hand against Staci's cheek. And holds it there.

"I do think Peaches suited you a lot better."

Annnnnnd his face is on fire. Again.

Fucking Hell.

He melts into the touch, feeling how Jacob plays with the skin beneath his eye with his thumb, and his breath hitches in his throat-

"Go on, get yourself off now," Jacob lets go and nods towards the door, and Staci doesn't know how he's supposed to take that.

"Driver, that's everyone."

Staci hands the clipboard to the driver and then helps to pack the remaining luggage into the bus, the sun beaming down and burning his neck.

"I'm just gonna nip for a piss, then I'm ready to go."

The driver grumbles something and heads to the doors, and Staci turns around to make for the toilets before the long drive back home. His head is full of thoughts of home, seeing his friends and telling them what a mistake this whole thing was.

He bounces off of someone, who uses his hands on Staci's shoulders to steady him. In surprise, Staci looks up, his mouth slightly agape.

"Woah, watch it, Staci."

"Jacob! I'm so sorry, I was just - it's a rush,"

Jacob smiles, "Always is."

"I'm just nipping to the toilet and then our bus is leaving-"

"Where to?"

"Montana. Where's yours?"

"Georgia."

"I doubt we're gonna be neighbours then, huh?"

Jacob maintains eye contact, but there's a softness now, an easiness behind him. Staci almost hugs him for some reason he can't explain.

"'suppose not. Shame, really. I enjoyed your company. It's not very often I wake up with a pretty boy in my bed." A smirk. "Look at you, all flustered."

There's a shout in the near distance, and Jacob shakes his head.

"Here, I wanted to give you this."

He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Staci, but it's rolled up tightly and Staci's hands are shaking so he can't quite manage to unwrap it before Jacob puts his hand back on his cheek, just as he had hours before.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, but I gotta go. See you around, Peaches."

Somewhere hours from home, Staci just manages to stop thinking about the encounter long enough to unwrap the piece of paper.

But fate has different plans.

As he fiddles with it in his hands, only being able to catch a glimpse of a terrible drawing of a peach and a few digits, the wind picks up outside and the piece of paper flies out of the window, already half a mile back by the time Staci even registers it’s gone.

His heart plummets through the floor, feeling as though he held glory in his hands for a second, just clutched by finger tips. He sighs and bangs his head against the window.

Fuck.

He immediately fishes his phone from the bottom of his bag, something that has been untouched for the last few weeks, and desperately tries to connect to the internet, his hands shaking.

When he finally manages to get a connection, he scours the camps website to see if there’s any mention of anyone called Jacob, but nothing comes back, which is unsurprising.

A lost connection, miles and miles away from each other, Staci suddenly hates himself.

Don’t cancel. Please don’t cancel…

Clouds of sand, dirt, and dust kick up under the tyres of Staci’s truck as he rounds the corner up to the ranch, the clanging of the four pack of bottled beers echoing from the passenger seat. He’s supposed to be meeting Joey here - if she hasn’t shown, he’ll be lost.

I’ll just dump the beers and go… He decides, swallowing his nerves down.

No one would notice his presence, nevermind notice his absence.

The driveway is long, and the field to his right is dominated by a runway. When Staci came to the county, some seven or eight years ago now, it had been occupied by tall grass, the buildings surrounding it empty and desolate despite their size and beauty.

It’s a brilliant sunny day, not a cloud for miles. It’s one of those too hot Summer days, when the air is still and there’s no breeze to cool you. Staci’s window is wound down and his arm hangs out the side, his sunglasses protecting his eyes. The dash reads thirty three degrees.

As he approaches the ranch, cars begin to appear along the edges of the dirt track, and then congregate as he gets closer to the building. Parking looks scarce, but he decides to chance it and drives closer to see if he can get a spot. To his luck, he manages to find a space between what he thinks could be Sharky’s pick up, and an unremarkable white van. He reverses in - a quicker escape, should he need it.

He observes the car park, but he can’t see Joeys car.

Maybe she got a ride…

Living on a prayer.

He swallows the forming lump in his throat and retrieves the plastic bag from the seat next to him, the bottles clattering together. He steps out, shutting the door behind him, but leaves it unlocked.

The battle between his gut and his brain for him to get back in his car and leave is lost, and Staci heads to the yard, where he begins to recognise various faces as he approaches. It smells of Summer, of cooking burgers, alcohol, and hot, still air.

The Ryes sit on his right hand side, finding relief from the heat in the shadow of the house. Kym’s pregnant stomach gets bigger every time he sees her. Mary May, who has served him more alcoholic drinks than he has had hot meals in the last year, is grabbing a bottle from the cooler and then heads towards a group of people he recalls having a drunken conversation with a few nights prior.

“Hey, Staci, I hear your mom has it going on!”

Sharky is already drunk as he waltzes over, a plate of potato salad in his hand. He laughs at his own joke, and Staci just rolls his eyes - haven’t heard that one before…

“Cheer up, Buddy, you know I’m just messin’ around!”

“Is Joey here?” He asks, watching as Sharky takes a bite from his fork.

“Jesus fucking Christ, this is fucking disgusting. The worst fuckin’ potato salad I ever had in my life. Poo-tato salad, you know what I mean?”

Staci just looks at him, and Sharky grins back.

“Get it? Do you get it?”

“Is Joey here?” Staci repeats, his patience wearing thin.

“Hudso? Nah, nada. Didn’t show.”

Disappointment fills him, but for some reason, he’s not surprised.

Despite his friendly reputation and the respect held by the community for their local law enforcement, who would want to spend their afternoon drinking with an off-duty deputy? Anxiety builds it’s way through his body and he decides against staying.

“I’m gonna-"

He starts offering an explanation, but Hurk shouts something from the other side of the yard, and Sharky stumbles walks away, shouting loudly about the shitty potato salad.

He leaves them to it.

The truck groans as he climbs in and discards the plastic bag in the footwell of the passenger seat.

What a waste of time and money.

He should have stayed at home.

“Our barbecue not good enough for you?”

Staci hits his head on the roof of the truck and yelps in surprise, his heart racing in his chest.

The voice comes from the passenger seat window, which he left wound down to try and encourage some air into the car.

“Jesus,” he pants, taking a few deep breath to try and calm himself, “You scared the shit outta me.”

The mans frame looms over the window, his presence almost suffocating. He’s taller than Pratt - strong looking, too. He has piercing blue eyes that stare straight into Pratt’s soul, and fiery red hair with a matching beard, neatly trimmed for the occasion.

His sentence gets stuck in his throat. But the strangers stare is unrelenting, bearing into him, expecting an answer.

“N-no, I’m not - I’m not being rude,” the sentence stumbles out of him and why can’t the words just come out right? What is wrong with you? “It’s just - I’m not… It’s not really my scene, you know?”

“It’s a barbecue. Didn’t know a barbecue was a scene… Woulda thought a deputy like you would’ve known we ain’t got you in cuffs, dragging you down here.”

His voice is cocky. Teasing.

“I know! I just thought - you know it’s - wait… How’d you know I’m a deputy?”

“You think we’re gonna hold a barbecue and not do some networking with the locals?” He has a grin on his face, and Staci can’t tear his eyes away from him. “Who was it you were waiting for, Deputy Hudson? Sheriff Whitehorse?”

He says their names like a roll-call, almost showing off to Staci that I know.

They maintain eye-contact.

“We’re just trying to make a good impression, Deputy. My brother is one Hell of a cook - you should come and see.”

It doesn’t feel like an offer. He feels like this man has him by the scruff of the neck, and all Staci can do is submit to him.

“I’m Jacob.”

A cold beer is placed in his hand, and Pratt, his cheeks still burning red, accepts it sheepishly, feeling like a child on the playground.

So that’s who was at church....

“And those are my brothers. Joseph is the one talking over there, and John is the one manning the barbecue.”

Never mind.

“I’m Staci,” he fiddles with the bottle, tearing strips of the label off. His hands are shaking, for some reason. “I wasn’t trying to be rude-“

“Forget about it,” Jacob places a firm hand on Staci’s shoulder, and it almost makes the man stumble backwards “We’re all family here, right?”

“R-right... Yeah…”

He takes a nervous sip of his beer.

”Don’t talk much, huh? I’m not a people person, either - come on,”

The stranger - Jacob - grabs him a generous plate of food and tells Staci to grab a crate of beers, and uses a hand on the small of his back to guide Staci out of the yard, around the side of the main house, and then into what Staci assumes is a garage.

“It’s hot out, we’ll be cooler in here,” Jacob insists, handing the plate to Staci and holding the door open for him. It’s a hanger, not a garage. He is lead up some stairs and to a walkway that borders the interior. They sit with their feet dangling off the edge.

The burger looks alright, and there’s some fries on the side - Jacob remarked that John had seen a guy online who smashes all the burgers, but he didn’t quite know what that meant, and Staci decides he couldn’t be bothered to explain it. There’s a small portion of potato salad - it’s watery and questionable. Sharky’s comment rings in his head.

“I heard the potato salad is-“

“Oh! I made that,” Jacob smiles. Actually smiles.

Staci pauses.

“Really good. I heard it’s really, really good.” He stabs it with his fork and tries a bite.

Sharky had a point. It tastes like shit.

“Delicious.”

“I’m glad.”

He quickly shovels it in his mouth without giving it chance to sit on his tongue, and swallows it straight down. He washes the taste away with a swig of beer.

They talk for a while, about Staci’s career and about how Jacob was in the army, and how Staci has four other siblings and if Jacob hadn’t had his, he’d be rotting away in a veteran’s place by now. It goes from awkward, forced conversation, to the flow of sharing stories and gentle laughter.

“Why’d you become a dep, anyway? Easy way into women’s underwear?”

Jacob jabs him to the ribs and Staci’s face burns a fire red, and he shakes his head, looking away from him.

“No,” he sighs a laugh, leaning back and using his hands as support. He feels tipsy. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not? Come on, what are you, mid twenties? Should be a magnet at your age.”

“Twenty six,” he replies, “But no, I’m not interested in that side of things.”

They share a look, and Staci decides to stop talking.

“Their loss,” Jacob mumbles, grabbing another beer. “This is fun.”

They can hear the chatter and laughter of people outside, but Staci thinks he prefers it this way - just them two. It's quieter, calmer, more personal.

"Is it?" Staci asks, not in a way to offend, but in a genuine question if Jacob is truly enjoying their chatting.

“Sure. Could be out there with all them… people.”

“People. Hm. Convincing.”

"Well, people are just numbers. Everyone ends up in the same place, at the end of the day."

Staci frowns, his face twisting in confusion.

"Why would you say that? Life isn't about where we end up. So what if there's nothing, or if there's everything once we die? What matters if we make the most of what we have whilst we have it. Laugh more, make friends, make mistakes. It's all part of the experience."

"Lot more optimistic than me."

Staci awkwardly moves his hands and suddenly it feels uncomfortable - he feels like Jacob is staring at him.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna head off, I think," he says quickly, taking a deep breath, "My shift starts soon."

"You're not on duty."

Staci hesitates. He was lying, but how the Hell does Jacob know that? He stares at the man, wide eyed, the words to say next are lost on him.

"I-I-"

"Don't lie to me, Pratt. I'm smart enough to now when our deputies are expected on Duty - I believe Andrew is on duty today? One of his last few weeks before retirement, huh?"

"I need to go."

"No."

Jacob's reply is short. Curt.

"I don't think you do."

In a panic, Staci rises to his feet, but Jacob is already there, crowding his space. He takes a few steps back, attempting to put distance between himself and the threat, but he keeps up with him, following him until Staci's back hits the wall.

"Jacob-"

There's a whine in his voice. He sounds helpless. Weak. Pathetic.

Why the hell did he come in here...

"Please-"

There's a smirk on the taller mans face, and he lifts his hands, one grabbing Staci's wrist, and the other going onto his cheek.

"Nobody knows you're here with me..."

His stomach is doing flips. He feels sick... His chest hurts and he can hardly catch his breath.

He can't even find any words to say...

Jacob moves his hand and moves it to Staci's neck, pushing him backwards against the wall. He's choking him, slightly.

"Stop-"

And it's all so sudden, the way Jacob's lips meet his, and the way... The way Staci kisses him back, feeling so nervous and sick but sinking into the kiss like he had been waiting for it. Accepting it, as though he had asked for it.

He feels Jacob's hand leave his wrist and go towards his crotch, but Staci blocks it using his leg.

They separate and Jacob stares down at Staci, something in his eyes that Staci can't quite work out.

"I could have, if I wanted to."

"I know..." Staci whispers, his cheeks burning red and actual sweat running down his forehead. "I'm not-"

"Yeah. That's what they all say."

"No, I'm-"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Staci feels like he's been hit with a brick.

"You want me to leave?"

"Well, I didn't, but if you're not gonna put out, then what use are you to me?"

There's a heavy silence, and Staci feels like he could cry, the weight of his realisation of what has just happened to him suddenly sitting very heavy on him. Smothering him. Suffocating him.

And then Jacob laughs.

"I'm kidding, Stace."

He rubs his head like a dog.

"I just wanted to see how far you'd let me take it. Give me your phone."

Staci surrenders and hands the device over, and Jacob ignores the way it's shaking in his hands before he takes hold of it, quickly typing in his phone number and handing it back.

"Listen, I'll be here, when you've got your tail between your legs and you're thinking with your dick."

"O-okay..." Staci whispers.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He's never coming back.

"I'm going to go and spend time with my family now. It was a pleasure to meet you."

And Staci is left there, his heart hammering in his chest, still feeling like he's in the middle of the lions den.

The clock reads 3:30. He's been home for almost ten hours. He'd spent one of them in the shower, just staring as the water beat down on his head, washing off the sweat from the day. The rest had been spent in his bed, staring at the wall.

He hadn't wanted to be kissed - but there's something in him that craves that. Something about Jacob that is calling to him. Being kissed was like taking the first hit, and the addiction is coming out in full force.

What if Jacob had taken it further? Fucking Hell, why is he getting hard over this?

This is so fucked up.

He takes a few deep breaths and sits up, feeling his heart beating heavily in his chest, his hands shaking as he reaches for the cup of yesterday's water by the side of the bed, knocking over the picture of him and his girlfriend from last Summer. She lives a state over, and it's been rocky recently but he swears he loves her - he's straight...

Why does he want to go back? Why does he want to see Jacob again?

He takes a few more deep breathes and reaches for the phone. His finger hovers over his girlfriends name.

It rings. Just twice.

"Staci."

And he doesn't sound sleepy, he doesn't sound like Staci's just woken him up.

He sounds smug.

He can hear the smirk on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” he utters, wiping his face with his hands in attempt to free it of the rain, but the wetness returns just as quick as it was removed. His hands are trembling with cold, so he fills them with a few hot breaths, and balls them up deep inside his pockets. “You said that five miles ago.”

“Keep up.”

The rain is so heavy that it is getting difficult to see Jacob ahead of him, and with the fat, dark clouds overhead, the light is disappearing by the second. Staci’s feet are soaked and sore, and he would rather be anywhere but here. He almost convinces himself that he has trench foot.

This is Jacob’s idea of a romantic weekend away? Staci had visions of a log cabin, with just them, maybe a night under the clear, starry skies - but an unexpected storm had blown in from the West and bought with it more rain than they were ever prepaired for.

A small motel had sat to the side of the road as they had gained on their location - the vacancies lit up in neon. Staci had suggested just spending the night there and reassessing the weather tomorrow. They could’ve grabbed whatever takeout was local and put a few films on - alright, it isn’t a romantic weekend away as Jacob had at least tried to plan, but it was something, and most importantly, it would be dry.

And they wouldn’t be venturing through the woods.

“Staci,” Jacob pauses and turns around, his face stern. “I told you to keep up.”

“I’m struggling…” Staci holds his arms out to the side: of him in defence, but mostly to show how drenched through he is. “I’m not - look at me, Jacob. I’m soaked. My clothes are wet, I’m cold. My feet hurt, my socks and my boots are drenched. I told you we should-“

“We’re almost there.”

“We’ve been almost there for the better part of an hour and a half!”

“And we’re still almost there.”

“Dark never killed anyone. Your skin is waterproof. Grow up and keep going.”

Staci doesn’t know how to reply, but Jacob just turns and keeps walking.

And what the Hell is this attitude about? Grow up? Fuck off.

When he doesn’t move, the rain trickling down his neck, Jacob stops and looks back at him.

“I told you to keep going.”

Defiantly, Staci shakes his head. He’s not the worlds biggest fan of standing up for himself - especially against Jacob, with his temper that can fly off the rails at any moment. He puts a lot of it down to his PTSD from his experiences in war, but sometimes, Jacob can just be an asshole.

“I need a break, Jacob.”

“No.”

“Jacob-“

The man stomps back to Staci, stopping just before him. He removes his bag from his back, and rests the butt of it against the floor, fishing around for a second. Staci realises it’s coated in plastic - waterproof, unlike his fabric one. Wordlessly, he rises back up, and takes Staci’s backpack from him and puts it over his shoulder, moving to take Staci’s coat off of him. Staci lets him, standing there in just his jumper before Jacob retrieves a big, thick coat from his bag.

“Told you to bring a waterproof.”

Staci ignores it and a cold blow of air chills him even more, but Jacob puts his arms into the sleeves of the coat and then pulls it together, zipping it up and pulling the hood over his head, dressing him as a father would his child.

The coat is two sizes too big for him, and the sleeves hang over his fists. The zip starts at his mid-thighs, and the hood almost blinds him. But it's warm and it's dry and it's a thousand times better than before.

"Better, Peaches?"

His tone is taunting, but he swaps the bags around so he carries his own on his back, and carries Staci's in his hand. He wraps his arm around Staci's shoulder, and walks with him now and not in front of him.

“Come on, then. I’m not lying when I say we’re almost there.”

The night draws in as they venture deeper into the woods, and half an hour later, the cabin is barely visible. Jacob is using a torch to navigate seeing as Staci has almost tripped over tree roots more times than he can count. He shines the light at the stairs approaching the cabin, to help the other man up, and then reaches on top of the doorframe for the key.

“Told you we were close.”

“You know, ‘close’ usually means within ten minutes-“

“Does it matter?” Jacob asks, turning to make eye contact with him, “We’re here now.”

The door opens with a creak, and maybe Staci thought the fire would already be lit and that when the door would open, light would spill into the darkness and he’d immediately feel a thousand times warmer.

But the inside is dark, which… Well, obviously.

The door opens with a creak, and Jacob lights the gas lantern by the door and puts both of the bags down on the floor. He steps into the room and gestures for Staci to come in.

The room is cozy - there’s a fireplace on the other side of the room with a sofa in front, candles everywhere for light. Despite this, however, Staci is still freezing.

“Come on, Baby,” Jacob shuts the door, and kneels down in front of Staci, untying his laces and helping him slip his boots off. His socks are soaked, too. “Atta boy. Take your coat off, I’ll light the fire.”

He strips himself of his coat and his socks as Jacob works on the fire, and then decides to give himself a tour of the cabin. The bedroom holds a queen sized bed with thick, comfy covers, and fat, plump pillows. The bathroom is sizeable, a large bath sitting in the middle, but the toilet is outside in an outhouse.

Warm breath on his neck, he feels Jacobs arms snake around his waist.

“Hey,” Staci says quietly, leaning back into the touch. “Sorry for being grouchy.”

Jacob kisses his neck, his breath giving Staci goosebumps. After all these years, Jacob's charm never wares.

“S’alright,” he replies, “I know what you’re like by now.”

The younger man rolls his eyes, mumbling for Jacob to shut up under his breath.

“C’mere, you’re freezing and soaked. Let’s get these off.”

He winds his hands down to the hem of Staci’s jumper, and pulls it over his head, taking his t shirt with it. They’ve been working out together more, and Jacob appreciates how defined Staci’s muscles are becoming. He kisses his neck again, moving his arms around Staci’s waist to unbuckle his belt.

“Woah, Cowboy. What’re you after?”

“Think I booked us a cabin so we would just sit around knitting?”

“Well that was my plan!”

Jacob chuckles at the humour of his lover, and gently crouches, taking Staci’s jeans with him. He leaves his underwear, much to the younger man’s disappointment.

“Let’s get you a bath, hm? You can warm up. Get yourself in front of the fire, I’ll heat you some water from the well outside.”

His body is debatably too hot now, but he won’t complain about it. It’s a welcome change. Hot water trickles down his back from a sponge held over his head by Jacob, who sits in the bath behind Staci, his legs wrapped around either side of him.

“Look at you,” Jacob murmurs in his ear, resting his forehead against Staci’s back, “Such a pretty boy.”

“I am not a pretty boy.”

“You’re my pretty boy.”

A hesitation.

A burning of red cheeks.

“Shut up.”

“Where would I be without you, huh?”

“Probably somewhere boring.”

“Probably with a lot less headaches too.”

“Did you bring me here just to bully me?” Staci leans back against Jacob’s chest, and Jacob uses his own hands to bring water up Staci’s chest and lets it dribble down him. It leaves hot, red trails down his skin. Jacob’s dog tags are cold against his back. “Feels like you bought me here just to bully me.”

“You’re just too easy to bully.”

“Thought this was supposed to be romantic?”

“How many other men have you had cuddling you in a hot bath, hm?”

“Well that’s between me and God.”

Jacob just snorts a laugh, shaking his head. He adores Staci, whorships the ground he walks on despite his stupid sense of humour - the person who laughs the loudest at Staci’s jokes, is Staci.

He plants more kisses down the side of Staci’s neck, his hands moving to the boy’s chest and stomach.

“Can you feel my abs yet?”

“It was a lot more romantic before you started talking.”

“Hey, you decided to get in the bath with me.”

“Shut up, will you?”

They enjoy the peace for a moment, Staci enjoying the feeling of Jacob’s hands wandering all over his skin, and Jacob enjoying the silence. The thing with Staci is that, if given the opportunity, he will talk until he’s blue in the face, until he’s told you his life story all the way back to his conception. You will know every detail about his life unless you stop him - and even then, it takes three or four reminders for him to actually stop talking.

He’s a snarky little thing, too.

A snore rumbles through Staci’s chest and out of his mouth, and Jacob realises why he has been so quiet. Staic’s been pulling in every shift he can get recently, and his sleep schedule is all over the place. It’s nice to finally see him resting.

Jacob pulls Staci up his chest slightly, wrapping his arms around his stomach, and nuzzles his face into the crook of his shoulder, feeling the familiar curves of his body.

Home.

Staci is home.