#potb

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"Sokolai collapsed," Mossman announced, just as she finished peeling off her gloves and slapped them on the small metal locker shoved beside her cot. "We put him up in a chair, but this is getting to be too much, Alyx." She wrenched Alyx around. "Did you hear what I said?"

"How is that my fault?" Alyx asked. "He could have asked Luther to take over."

"Luther," said Mossman with a lift of brow, "the diver?"

Don't. "No one asked him to stay up with the body."

"Alyx, he's just trying to—"

"And I'm trying to keep us alive," she said. "Okay? Did you get a single ping today?" Mossman aimed her glower at the wall. "Exactly. The cavalry aren't coming."

"That doesn't mean we have to accelerate the process."

"Speak English, Judith."

Mossman always fell for that one. "We can't keep on this path. Something has to change."

"You're right," Alyx said. "Let's fast-forward to the part where we start eating each other." She hadn't intended for the caustic edge in her voice to cut down Mossman's next response. Nevertheless, she found herself hard-pressed to care. "You want to draw straws? See who goes first?"

Mossman threw up her palms, bony shoulders hiked beneath the hole-eaten cardigan she had found in a closet. She looked so ridiculous: like one of those stay-at-home moms in Swiffer ads from the home magazines Alyx used to collect. Except this one lacked an eye, and her hair stood in a stiff curtain around her shoulders from constant pail-boiled washing. "I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Good. I've got better things to do."

"Will you please check on Sokolai?"

"Why not? Add it to every other fucking thing on my list."

Mossman's jaw unhinged. "Alyx."

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The Borealis offered no luxuries. Mossman forgave her because there was no one else to sit with.

"Sometimes," said Judith, "I look at you and see nothing of your father. Others, I see too much of him."

The cot rasped under the shift of her weight. The ceiling and floor switched posts, albeit with a muted and ever-present bob at the boundary. "Believe me," Alyx said. "I don't like it—"

"It is a choice, Alyx." Mossman held trial with her stare; it was not in the due process, but in the verdict, that defense had flinched. Have the courage not to look away. "You may not believe so, but cruelty is a choice."

Her feverish mind cycled through excuses. Starving ship. Stranded. Floating mass grave. Gordon in the hold. Gordon in the hold.

My every breath is borrowed. My heart is but a thin sheet of glass on which he walks, deepening the fissure with every step.

In the end, silence elevated Alyx from the mire, wiped clean the mud and blood on which the world was built. "You're right."

Judith wrapped her cardigan about herself, leaning back in her chair until it creaked. "We'll die here if we allow ourselves to."

"I know."

"I'm not certain you do," said Mossman. "When we pulled you out of the water, we knew Gordon had passed right away. There was nothing more we could do for him, apart from preserving him for White Forest. But you fought, Alyx. You struggled."

The crest and curl of waves outside portended rain. Mossman observed the first droplets to bloom on the window.

"Please," she said, tucked inside her cocoon, "God, let it be for a reason."

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Sokolai curled against the wall, his body too large and cumbersome for a lounge chair to gather in its entirety. The frayed hem of his linen blanket quivered over the tops of his feet, beside which sat a dish of leech shells. There was an odor in the air reminiscent of a soured battery, a loose and acrid aftertaste.

His flesh glistened from the effort of preservation. Each sleep-rationed breath he took bore a light note of anticipation at the end of its taper, as though any moment might lure him from the deep.

Vortigaunts proudly shunned dreams. Petty distraction. We have no use for them. Yet there was something alive in the way Sokolai guarded his sleep, something human.

He did not snap to attention when she placed the toolbox on the floor. Rather, the lid protecting his central eye sagged open, drifted over the wall. The clouds within thinned to allow his intelligence to swim to the forefront. The spark of him fixed on the table where their hopes lay stagnant.

"C'harr." Elegy in the rumble. The resonance, like the creep of a storm front. "I have failed." His clenched talon released its hold on the linen. "The return cannot be delayed. The flesh insists."

"You've done more than enough." Alyx withdrew a desk lamp she had attached to a wind-up battery and placed it on a crate beside the table. The naked bulb sputtered, at first offering a tepid orange glow before the filament awakened more fully and burned with a steadier hand. Shadows waned from the sharp edges of the chest plate, revealing nicks and scars in the lambda. "Thank you."

Gravitated toward the small puddle of light, Sokolai came to observe. "Freeman has embraced All," he said. "They are joined."

He departed the hold.

Alyx contemplated Gordon without the usual tremor in her heart. The clarity let her see how their month-long voyage across a frigid Baltic Sea had eroded him. The gaunt planes of his face echoed her memory while he lay comatose on a mattress in White Forest: unnerving, but still animated, still agitated enough to maintain a faint struggle from within.

Here and now, time became a suspended breath. The restlessness of his thoughts submerged into meditation.

The last moment was always fossilized. Some dead men's faces transformed into warriors' masks. Others twisted into portraits of agony.

He had become a philosopher; the thoughts he'd kept buried inside his mind had grown too vast for his flesh to contain. The sodium-conducted gates that once gifted him insight unto themselves lay still, and in the sheer quiescence of being, at the bottom of his own emptiness, he spoke to her in a clear voice.

See the lambda and you will see the truth. There is no end. There is decay, and change, and transmutation. One day the boundaries between us, which never existed, will fade.

You consider your illusion to be holy, Alyx. I can't imagine a lovelier lie. The butterfly dreams itself inside the crook of a hand.

She unbuckled a greave. Air hissed out in a relieved sigh.

I can't accompany you for much longer.

Pieces gathered on the floor. Exoskeleton shedding from the organism.

I know, Gordon.

She worked, heedless of the hours. Extracted circuit boards, removed the battery. Lifted both pauldrons from knobby shoulders. Withdrew the residue-caked needle from his arm.

Bit by bit, she excavated him. The man underneath showed a scarred and slender body encased in a sweat-stained undershirt.

Halfway through the process, his chest, marked by a jagged splotch over the left breast, lay exposed on a bed of machinery.

The crowbar. His gloved hand retained a jealous hold on the battered steel.

Alyx's prying fingers retreated. "Okay, Gordon," she said, "just relax. I'll save it for last. How's that sound?"

No good. She keeps saying I'm out of tourniquets. He offers her a contrite flicker of a smile as he crouches behind the splintered wall of a barn, one hand pressed to a slice in his elbow. Red paint has flecked and fluttered down to join the blood streaked across his brow.

The sun flashes hot on his lenses. He contemplates it, the warm breath of the day. Then he straightens himself, shuffling on parched grass, quaked by a silent laugh. Eight million dollars and they never installed a 'shut-up' function.

"I know." She found a ragged spool stuck somewhere in between cylinders; the fabric reeked of dried coolant. "There's your problem. You don't do upkeep. A few bangs to the delivery system might have recalibrated it."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, Gordon. Nobody wants to be a walking vending machine."

He laughs, a bit loud this time. Winces. "How long before White Forest?"

"Why?" she asked. "You're not planning on having a sleepover here, are you?"

"Just an estimate," he says. "I'd like to sleep in a real bed sometime."

She lifted his nape from the table. "No kidding. Sticky as hell."

"You never answered, Alyx."

"What?"

"That guy, when they sent me to deal with the chopper. He asked you, uh. What we were."

Together, her lips murmured. That's what we were. That's all we needed to be.

He leaned back, eyes closed. "Good point."

Gordon.

He slipped into silence again, his older and more preferred form of armor. The click and whisper of the screwdriver kept her company for the rest.

It's not you, Alyx. I just need some space.

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She took one arm. Barney took the other. Luther lifted the legs. Together they acted as pallbearers, carrying a man-shaped casket.

Gordon's arm draped around the back of her neck. Hardly any weight at all now.

Squeezing her eyes shut to dam the blurring, she flattened his cold, thin hand to her beating heart. Hold on, her chapped lips whispered as the sea broke and wept white tides over the hull, glimmering curtains that pulled and receded. Just a little longer, Gordon. You'll be home soon.

At the lip of the hatch, they placed him on a tarp. The wind ruffled his hair, which the snow-suffocated light had turned a dark brown. Snowflakes sprouted the briefest blossoms over a bright blue expanse of plastic.

The material crinkled under Barney's knee while he clasped Gordon's hand. The tips of his unwashed hair trembled as he pressed his brow to Gordon's. He lingered there before a sharp sob escaped him, the sound rending the air like a knife.

He shrugged away the hands and murmurs wandering toward him. I'm fine. I'm fine. Taking a clean pull of air to reorient himself, he offered a broken chuckle while wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. Jeez, Gordon, you're really gonna make me snot it up in front of everybody?

Laughter. Soft ripple.

One by one, they came to speak with him.

Among the attendees, a large man approached, hands shoved deep in torn coat pockets. He observed Gordon as one might observe an unlit candle on the altar: with quiet absorption, the worship not in the object but of its image.

Slowly, his brows rose. "God damn," he breathed, "you're just a kid."

The spell broke. Overlapping voices. Chatter. Yeah, he was. Still went into the breach, after all of that, came out the other side. Fucking travesty. So young to be doing this. It's too young. Hasn't got a single gray hair. Look, not a wrinkle. Had his whole life, gave every year and then some.

Fuck, man, they said with one clenched throat, love in the pauses and stutters, love in the averted gazes, love in the prayers died down to freezing winds, I don't even know what to say anymore.

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They opened the hatch, where the sea waited in consecrated void.

The men helped prepare him while Alyx stepped into a partial wetsuit. Due to his height, it took Barney and two other men peeling away the tarp and pulling Gordon into a sitting position for her to establish a proper grip.

She hugged her elbows beneath the armpits and clasped her hands over the back of his skull, so that his lissome arms fanned out on either side.

Pressed against her chest, his back felt light. The hairs on his nape stirred against the wind.

Alyx drank in their faces, each and every soul.

Let's go.

With the aid of steadying hands that withdrew onto the deck, they sank. The sea reached for him, claiming his legs before hers. Warnings not to dive too deep at once bubbled up.

We won't, she assured them. I've got him.

As the water rose, enveloping numb knees, clutching at her thighs, he faded faster, stepped a rung lower. She stopped at the boundary of her waist where her wetsuit ended, as she had only her sweater and parka to cover the rest.

Even so, her wrists trembled in a nascent failure to cling just that heartbeat longer, that craved sliver more. Can you hear us from where you are? Everyone is wishing you well.

Death without death, promised the beings that purported themselves gods. The sea of oblivion, without pain, without illness, without doubt or fear, in which the wave function shall never collapse and all potentialities are expressed. We the Universal Union, minds linked in Enlightenment, have studied life from the genesis. Yet truth eludes. Mystery remains.

The human in her had laughed, disturbing their synaptic silence. Your understanding is imperfect. You looked to us because you lack the imagination to die. Just one cell of yours in the great shimmering whole of your star-woven body dared, I am that I am, and you consumed yourself.

Witness: I have chosen to stand inside the core of my being and accept the siege under which I become a refraction of flesh and thought, at once delicate and indestructible.

Life, my beloved fools, is no accident, no happenstance of replicable conditions. The lack of an architect does not signal a lack of design. Life chooses itself.

Blessings in the suffering. A blade, a bullet, an unkind word penetrates my armor. Blessings in the blood. Fire threatens alchemical change. Blessings in the burning. Hunger eats me, cold withers me. Blessings in the consumption. Trauma alters the genome. Blessings in the information that clings, in the most ancient shiver of my brain stem, the limb that long ago grasped for light.

Submit to entropy, the god higher than even You. You die without death, for you fail to venerate change.

A hitched breath almost conquered her, but she endured the ripples until they quieted. Inhaling, she pressed her lips to his nape, lingering on his icy, brittle, downy skin, and at length released.

He went home.

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They received a ping the next day.

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You wake up to the loud blaring of your alarm clock in your ear and a pounding headache. You sit up in bed and press the off button on the clock, looking over to see the time: 10:00. It’s not even that early, but your hangover says otherwise. “Fuck. Why did I ever agree to stay out and drink so late…” you say to yourself, shaking your head and holding your hands over your eyes. You stay like that for a few minutes before begrudgingly getting out of bed and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready.

You shut the bathroom door and then look at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t have the energy to take your makeup off the night before, your mascara is smudged and your eyes are puffy. You take a quick shower, wash your face thoroughly, brush your teeth, and then pull your hair back into a low ponytail. You open your bathroom cabinet to pull out a bottle of Tylenol, take two of them, and then head out back into your room to get dressed. You dread the thought of having to get dressed for class today, so you throw on some sweats and a band tee then head out into the living area.

You enter your small kitchen to find Sophie hunched over the dining table, in a very similar state. “Morning, Soph,” you say with a half-smile, to which she looks up at you with utter regret and just groans in response. You can’t help but laugh, “Pleasant as always this morning, huh?”

She rolls her eyes and says, “Y/N, we are never going out on a school night ever again. I’ve never been this hungover in all my life,” she throws her head back and groans again. “It was your idea, remember?” you say, reminding her. “Whatever. Go to class so that I can wallow in self-pity in peace, please,” she says. You chuckle to yourself, grab a granola bar and a Celsius, then pick up your backpack and head out the door for the day.

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You finish your exam just in time then breathe a long sigh of relief. You feel pretty okay about it and hope that all of your studying paid off. You decide that you need more caffeine to get through the rest of the day. You head over to your campus coffee shop and wait in the unfortunately long line, scrolling on your phone while you wait.

You open up Instagram and, against your better judgment, type in Jake’s name. You hit the follow button and scroll on his page for a minute, admiring the layout and aesthetic of it all. It felt very… him. You decide to shoot him a text to see how his morning has been going.

You: morning :)

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Good morning… sleep well?

You: as well as i could, i guess lol. i’ll definitely not be drinking that much during the school week again for a while, that’s for sure

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Ah yes, you had class today. You said you had an exam, right? How did that go?

You: oh, it was alright. i think i passed, i’m just glad to have it over with. now i can just look forward to tonight ;)

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Well, I’m glad that you did well. And I’m even more glad to know that you’re looking forward to seeing me…

You: hmm, are you looking forward to seeing me?

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Oh, I’m looking forward to more than just seeing you, sweetheart. Your beautiful face will be my good luck charm tonight. Who knows, perhaps you could even get rewarded.

You: i’ll hold you to that…

Sir Jacob ⚔️: That’s a promise, baby. I’ve already coordinated your ride to pick you up at 6. Our guys will take you both up to the front when you arrive… though I might like it if you could come back to see me before we go on.

You: i think i’d like that too. i’m sure Sophie can hold our spot on her own for a little while

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Good, that can be arranged… I’ll see you then, beautiful.

You: see you then ;)

You catch yourself smiling at your phone as you end your conversation with Jake and near the front of the line. You can hardly believe that this was actually real and that you were being brought backstage tonight. You grab your coffee and head home to rest a bit before you have to get ready for the show.

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After sitting on the couch with Sophie for a while watching tv, you two decide it’s time to get ready to go. You look through your closet to find something cute to wear and come across your favorite skirt- it’s black, pleated, and a bit short. You decided to pair it with the Greta Van Fleet shirt that you bought at the merch table last night, which you think Jake will particularly like. You step into the bathroom to do your makeup and then loosely curl your hair to give it some volume.

You meet Sophie out in your living room, throw on a pair of black Converse, and then the two of you head downstairs to wait for your ride. It arrived right at 6, just like Jake had promised. A black car pulls up in front of your apartment building and you both get in. You expected an Uber, but it appears that Jake went a step above and hired a car service for you, which feels so insane to you. You’ve never been exposed to this level of fame before.

The car arrives at the Greek and you and Sophie walk up to the venue. There are security personnel waiting there for you, and they take you both up to the barricade. They’d managed to keep a small space in the front open for you, just like Jake had said he would. They help Sophie get situated in the pit and then take you backstage to the dressing rooms.

Security brings you to one of the dressing rooms and opens the door for you, and you’re greeted first by Josh’s face smiling back at you right by the door. He’s wearing his jumpsuit already, adorned with a beautiful silky robe over top of it. “Y/N! Hello! It is so fantastic to see you again, I’m so glad you could make it again tonight. You look absolutely radiant,” he says, taking both of your hands in his and squeezing lightly. You smile at his enthusiasm, “Josh, hi, thank you… I’m happy to be here too.”

Your eyes look beyond Josh and find Jake sitting on a loveseat in the back corner of the room. He’s already dressed as well, and he looks so good that it’s sickening. His hair is still brushed and neat since he hasn’t performed yet, lying wavy over his shoulders. He has a closed-lip smile on his face that’s almost devious-looking.

You make your way over to him and you watch as his eyes travel down to your bare legs, then back up to your face. “Hi,” you say, with a shy smile across your face as you sit down next to him. “Hi,” he replies, snaking his hand around your waist, “You look gorgeous this evening, sweetheart. Absolutely breathtaking.” His other hand raises up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. You blush at the compliment and lean into his touch as he keeps his hand there, holding your cheek.

“I’m so glad that you’re here. You’ll be my muse for the night, I plan to put on quite the show…” he says, looking into your eyes. You smile up at him as he speaks again. “Here, I want you to have something,” he says, taking his hands away from your body. You mourn the loss of his touch momentarily as you watch him remove a bracelet from his right wrist. It’s a white sailor knot bracelet, seemingly old considering the visible wear and tear.

He places it in your hand and says, “I want you to wear this tonight. To help you remember how much I want you here, and for me to see you in the crowd and know that you’re here for me… and only me.” Your jaw drops slightly, in shock at Jake’s romantic gesture. You smile at him and slide the bracelet onto your wrist, “Thank you, Jake. This is so sweet… You know I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.” He leans into you and whispers in your ear, “Oh, I know you will. I’ll make sure of it.” You let out a sharp breath, feeling absolutely overtaken by him, then manage to quickly compose yourself before you melt for him entirely right there on that couch.

“I should get back to my spot… have to make sure that I’m front and center for a certain handsome rockstar…” you say, standing up and straightening out your skirt. Jake stands up with you to walk you out of the room, placing his hand on the small of your back. Once you reach the door, Jake gets close to you and whispers, “See you after the show, gorgeous,” sending shivers down your spine.

Before you can react, security guides you back to your spot in the pit. Sophie looks at you with a cheeky look, but you just brush it off and get ready for the opener’s set. This is going to be a long night…

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The openers have finished their sets and you’re all anxiously awaiting for the band to come out. The same intro plays as last night with the film videos, and then suddenly, you hear a string of beautiful chords coming from the organ as a bright spotlight points down upon Sam. Danny approaches from behind to sit at his set and then… out walks Jake. His stride is confident and relaxed as though he belongs there, which he so obviously does. He waves to the crowd quickly before he turns around to adjust the settings on the amp behind him. He then walks up to the front of the stage and locks eyes with you, blowing a kiss straight to you. You smile at him, blushing, as he strikes a few chords on his guitar to add to the suspense of the start of the song.

They amp it up a bit, Danny begins pounding on the drums, and then Josh walks out, greeting the crowd with a wide smile. The guys lead into the start of the song and Josh begins to dance around and feel the music. He looks over and sees you, reaching out both of his hands and then bringing them to his heart. You’ve only known him for a day, but you absolutely adore Josh. His kind heart radiates the brightest energy you’ve ever seen and it’s impossible to not be happy right alongside him, he just draws you in.

Your eyes travel back to Jake as he settles into the rhythm of the song. You can just tell how much fun he has up there, playing the song with a smile on his face and moving with the music. You can’t help but admire him, it’s so clear that he’s living his dream. It’s quite wholesome, but this wholesome moment doesn’t last long.

As the band heads into the next song, the energy begins to change. Every time he looks over at you, his eyes seem much darker. He’s playing his riffs with ease and going crazy for the crowd, though you wonder if it might be just for you. When it’s time for his solo, he steps closer to the front of the stage. His eyes meet yours as his hands glide up and down the frets with ease and you watch as he slightly lifts his hips into the guitar.

Oh, he’s putting on a show now, you think. This must be what he meant earlier about making sure that you think of only him during the show. It was certainly working- you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. More specifically, you watch his hands as they move on the strings and his face as it contorts while he plays; in pain or pleasure, you couldn’t be sure. Either way, you start to feel extremely aroused, your eyes glued to him.

Jake puts on this same show for the rest of the set, including the encore. He would occasionally turn his attention to the rest of the crowd and go to the other side of the stage to play to them, but he’d always come right back to his spot in front of you, with his eyes burning through you with lust. You start to imagine what Jake has in store for you tonight, and just the thought of it has you feeling anxious with desire.

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The band exits the stage and it’s time for you to head backstage to find Jake. “I’m gonna go call my Uber,” Sophie says, turning toward you, “Be careful, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and text me when you’re on your way home, okay?” You smile at her and say, “Soph, there’s not much you wouldn’t do. I’ll see you in the morning.” Security goes to help you out of the pit to take you backstage as you hear Sophie yell back to you, “Have fun! Don’t get pregnant!” You roll your eyes and shake your head, she sure does love to embarrass you.

The security guards take you back to the same room as earlier and knock on the door. You’re greeted by Josh once again, who has already changed into more casual clothing. “Hello, darling!” he says, smiling from ear to ear, pulling you into a hug. You can tell he’s a hugger with how tight his grasp is, as he rubs his hand slightly on your back.

“Jake’s just taking a quick shower to cool down, I was just about to head to the hotel myself. Did you enjoy the show?” he asks. You smiled back at him, “I enjoyed it very much, you were incredible. I expected nothing less, you’re a natural Josh.” His cheeks turn a bit pink at the compliment as he brushes it off, scoffing. “Please, no more, or else my ego is going to get inflated.” You burst into laughter together and then you hear the water in the bathroom turn off.

“I’d better go, my ride is waiting for me. But you two have a good night,” Josh says, smirking slightly. “I hope to see you again soon, Y/N.” He places his hand on your shoulder and rubs it as a goodbye and then heads out the door, closing it behind him. You decide to take a seat on the loveseat in the dressing room, where you had been sitting a few hours earlier, and scroll on your phone for a moment while you wait.

You raise your head as you hear the door open and see Jake walk out of the bathroom. He had gotten half-dressed in the bathroom, wearing the same old tattered jeans from last night. His hair was still wet- long and dripping onto his bare chest. You can’t help but stare as he walks over to you with a smug smile on his face.

“I thought that you might be here waiting for me,” he says, leaning over you and placing his hand on your cheek, “I’m glad I was right.” He brings his mouth down to yours, encompassing it in a ravenous kiss. It’s hurried and desperate; you know that he’s been waiting all night for this. He lays you down on the loveseat as he hovers over you, taking total control. He places his right knee on the couch next to you as he plants the other between your legs to steady himself then holds your waist with his left hand. His right hand has moved from your cheek to rest lightly on the back of your neck, pulling you into him.

The kiss is so deep that you pull back a bit to catch your breath. “Do you know what you’ve been doing to me all night, looking like that?” Jake says, looking down at you with his long, wet hair framing your face. His left hand leaves your waist and travels under your skirt down to your thigh, gripping it tightly. “That skirt has been making me crazy, baby… Seeing how sexy your legs look. You didn’t leave much to the imagination, huh? Did you wear that just for me?” he asks, his eyes dark and filled with lust.

You hardly feel like you can answer him, your body almost numb from desire, your mind filled with thoughts of him and only him. You manage to nod, looking up at him, begging for him to continue. He shakes his head at you and brings his hand back up to cup your face. “No, sweetheart. Use your words. Did you wear that tiny little skirt for me?” You whimper slightly at his dominance and the feeling of his hands on you. “Yes Jake, yes, I wore it for you. I knew that you would like it,” you answer hastily, desperate to feel his mouth on yours once more.

“That’s what I thought. Pretty little thing wanted to look good just for me, hm?” he says, his mouth just inches from yours. You lean up to try and catch his lips when he pulls away from you. “I shouldn’t let it go to waste then, should I?” he says, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you up, then flipping you over to lean over the armrest. “Is this okay?” Jake whispers with his lips on the shell of your ear, keeping his hands planted on your hips. “Yes,” you answer, almost whining. You couldn’t hide your arousal now even if you tried, your body is calling out to him.

He leans back to kneel on the couch behind you and flips your skirt up to reveal more of you to himself. He sucks in a quick breath and groans to himself as his hands explore you, tracing along the shape of your ass and then taking a handful in his right hand. He brings his other hand to slide a finger under your black lace underwear, snapping it against your skin and making you wince in pleasure. He then slides it to the side, revealing your already dripping wet folds. He brings his hand up to run his fingers through them, collecting the pool of wetness that’s sitting between your legs. You whine quietly at his touch, entirely at his mercy.

Jake leans back over you, still running his fingers over your sensitive core, and whispers into your ear in a deep, raspy voice. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Did you want me to take care of this pretty pussy just like I do with my guitar on stage? Is that it?” You whine again, louder this time as he starts to circle your clit lightly. “Yes,” you breathe out. “Yes, what?” he says, putting more pressure right where you need it most, peppering light kisses on your neck. You let out a quiet moan and throw your head back, “Yes, sir, this is what I wanted, please.” He kisses your neck once more, sinking his teeth in a bit, causing you to whine again.

He then leans back and removes his hand from you, placing both of his hands on your ass, spreading your cheeks wide, and letting out a harsh groan. “Fuck, sweetheart, you look so delicious. I need to have a taste,” he says. “Please, please,” you mutter out, begging. He stops holding himself back, leaning down and finally attaching his mouth to you. You gasp as his lips encompass your folds, his tongue teasing your entrance repeatedly. You grip the arm of the couch harshly, holding on for dear life as he licks at you relentlessly.

His fingers find your clit and press tight circles into it as his mouth continues to explore your needy pussy. You struggle to hold back your moans as he gets you closer and closer to the edge. He can tell you’re getting close from your noises and detaches his mouth from you. His arm pulls you up against him and he’s now using both his hands on you to get you to your release. His left hand is still pressing into your clit as he inserts his middle finger into you. You lean back against him and moan loudly as his finger takes a relentless place inside of you and he inserts a second finger. “That’s it, baby, are you gonna come for me? You gonna come all over my fingers?” Jake says with his lips against your neck, sucking marks into it as he grinds his hard dick against you. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say, struggling to get any words out at all. He rubs your clit faster and keeps a steady pace of pounding his finger inside of you, making you come undone for him.

Your orgasm is so harsh, hitting you like a massive wave, taking you over. You can’t control the sounds coming out of you as you moan his name and several expletives as you come down from your high. He slows his fingers inside you, but still moves them, helping you through it. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. You’d expected him to be good considering how skilled he was at guitar. You fantasized a lot about it as you watched his fingers move along the frets, but this was even better than you’d imagined.

Jake removes his hands from you and places a soft kiss on your cheek. You watch as he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, and groaning slightly. Then he pulls your panties back to their place and fixes your skirt. You step off of the couch and turn to face him, kissing his lips softly. You feel him smile against your lips and let out a quiet moan, taking your cheek in his hand. He leans his forehead against yours and asks, “You coming back to my room with me?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you answer, smiling at him. He steps back from you to grab the rest of his clothes and finish getting dressed. You watch him grab a black button-down shirt, very similar to the blue one you saw him in yesterday, then he slips into the same brown Chelsea boots. He looks into the mirror and brushes his fingers through his hair slightly, still wet from his shower and a bit messy after your steamy exchange. He slides on his dark sunglasses, despite it being dark out, then reaches his hand out to you. “Alright, ready to go?” You take his hand and you walk out, hand-in-hand, to the back entrance where your ride is waiting for you.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The car pulls up to their hotel, Jake gets out of the car and then goes to the other side to open your door for you. You blush as he takes your hand, helps you out of the car, and holds your hand in his as he walks you inside. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife as you both enter the elevator and take it up to his floor. He keeps his hand on your lower back as he walks you to his room and opens the door, letting you enter first, following behind you, and closing the door.

You watch him turn the lock and then turn around and walk toward you. He snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you close. You lean up to kiss him and he groans into your mouth, backing you up until the back of your legs hit the bed. He then lays you down on the bed and leans over you, deepening the kiss. His one hand is grasping at your ass while the other moves up to your neck. You reach down to grasp at his bulge, still hard and throbbing since he went down on you back at the venue. He groans into your mouth and thrusts lightly into your hand, needing more. You pull down the zipper and reach into his boxers to take him in your hand, but it’s clear that he’s feeling impatient because he leans back to completely undress.

Jake unbuttons the remaining three buttons on his shirt and tosses it on the floor, then pulls down his jeans and removes his briefs. You take this time to truly admire him, with nothing covering him. You’re mesmerized by his defined v-line and the way his necklace lays on his bare chest, then you finally look down to see his hard dick, starting to feel slightly nervous. It’s larger than you’d expected for his height, and girthier too, so much so that you worry about it fitting. He leans back over you and slowly pulls your skirt and panties down as you lift your shirt over your head to match him. He kisses you ferociously as his hands find your breasts, still covered by your lacy bra. He kneads them in his hands for a moment before reaching behind you unhooking it with one hand and throwing it to the side of the bed.

He detaches his lips from you and leans back for a moment to look at you, completely bare in front of him. “Fuck, baby… you look absolutely delectable…” he says, leaning back in to kiss you and teasing his tongue into your mouth, which you welcome willingly. Your tongues are swirling around each other as he brings one of his hands down to grab your breast and his finger pinches your nipple teasingly. You moan into his mouth and he smirks, bringing his mouth down to suck it into his mouth. He then moves his hand to your wet and needy core, bringing his fingers through your folds before inserting his pointer finger inside. You’re writhing in his touch, whining, and slightly overstimulated by all of the different feelings pulsing through you.

“Jake please, I need you,” you whine, needing more than just his fingers now. “What, sweetheart? Tell me what you want,” he says, looking down from above you with fire in his eyes. “I need to fuck me, please, I need it so bad,” you plead with him, taking his dick in your hand. He groans into your mouth and teases you more, “Yeah? You want me to fuck you, baby?” “Yes, yes sir, please, please,” you beg, unable to wait anymore. He moans again, hearing you call him that making him throb in your hand.

“Honey, I’m gonna fuck you so good that all you’ll be able to say is my name…” he says, taking himself in hand and pumping it a few times, forehead pressed against yours. He lines himself up with you, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, and presses in just the tip. You whine at the feeling before he takes it back out and then slides back in, gripping his hand tight on your hip and he pushes all the way to the hilt. He lets out a deep groan from the feeling of being all the way inside you, his eyes glued to where your bodies meet as he moves his hips to take himself out and then slam back in again.

His lips crash into yours then, licking into your mouth recklessly as he sets a steady pace. Your fingernails are digging into his back as you moan into his mouth at every thrust, in absolute euphoria. His hand moves from the back of your neck to the front, grasping just tight enough that it wouldn’t restrict your airflow. He removes his lips from yours and looks down at you, his hair framing your face and his eyes boring into yours. His necklaces dangle into your face at every thrust, the cold metal smacking your face to keep you in reality. His other hand reaches down to lift one of your legs higher and he’s now fucking into you at a new angle, so much deeper. You let out a loud moan at the feeling and you feel yourself clench around him, which makes him go faster.

“That feel good, baby?” Jake asks you in a deep whisper and moves his hand from your leg to your stomach, pressing down. “Do you feel me right there? You feel me so deep?” You can tell he likes to talk, and you like it too. His words are getting you closer and closer to the edge as you feel his tip brush past your g-spot over and over again. You nod ferociously and spill out a string of yeses, unable to form much of a sentence. His hand on your stomach moves down to your sensitive clit and starts pressing hard circles into it. “I feel you clenching around me baby, I know you’re so close. Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he says, his eyes locked right on yours, watching as your face contorts with pleasure. It’s not long before you’re reaching your second orgasm, this one even harder than the first as Jake pounds into you incessantly.

As you come down, he puts your leg down and leans down to kiss you passionately, moaning into your mouth. You can tell that he’s close too, though he’s held it together well. You place your hand tightly at the back of his neck, gripping some of the hair there and deepening the kiss. A few more deep thrusts and he pulls his mouth away from yours and pulls out of you, pumping himself as he finishes on your stomach. His forehead falls onto yours as he breathes in your presence for a moment before placing a light kiss on your forehead and walking to the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up.

He returns from the bathroom with a wet washcloth, sits down on the edge of the bed, and helps clean you up. The aftercare is honestly quite sweet, which was to be expected. Despite his tough exterior in bed, Jake is a gentleman first and foremost. He finishes wiping you off and you both take a quick shower to clean more thoroughly and cool off. Even the shower is sensual, he washes you off slowly and delicately, and then you both dry off and get back into bed.

Jake turns the lamp off and then lays down and turns to face you. He reaches his hand over and brushes a piece of hair out of your face and caresses your cheek lightly. You take his hand in yours and kiss the top of it, smiling up at him. You still feel a bit unsure that any of this is even real. But nonetheless, you scooch closer to him and lay your head on his chest, close your eyes, and drift off to sleep as he brushes his fingers through your hair.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Your eyes flutter open and you see the light of the morning peeking through the blinds. You turn over to see Jake still fast asleep, mouth wide open and snoring slightly. You smile to yourself, it all seems quite innocent. You go to grab your phone from the nightstand and check the time: 9:17 a.m. Okay, that’s not too bad. You wanted to be back at your apartment before noon to catch Sophie after her class was over, so the timing seemed good.

You brush some pieces of hair out of Jake’s face and smile down at him, rubbing your thumb on his temple. His eyes open slowly, a little out of it. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart,” he mutters, his voice deep and groggy. “Good morning… I have to go soon, I think…” you reply, which causes him to jolt awake a bit more, sitting up. “Oh…” he says, his face showing signs of disappointment, “Okay, yeah. I can get a car to take you back to your place.” He grabs his phone and sends a text to who you assume is his manager, then he turns back to you.

“Hey,” he says, placing his hand on your cheek. “I’ve had a really great few days with you, Y/N. I won’t forget it, ever. I hope you won’t either…” You look up at him and frown, you hate this goodbye more than anything. “Of course I won’t forget it, Jake. I don’t think I could ever forget you,” you say as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. He keeps his forehead on yours, trying to memorize this moment before it’s gone forever. “Keep my number, okay? If you ever need anything, or if you’re ever in Nashville… you can call me. I’ll answer. I promise,” he tells you, pulling back and rubbing his thumb on your cheek before getting up to get dressed for the day. You nod, staying in the comfortable silence and doing the same.

You both get ready and Jake walks you downstairs to the front of the hotel where the car is waiting for you. He gives you one more kiss goodbye on the cheek and opens the door for you, sending you off. What a whirlwind, you think to yourself as the car takes you back to your apartment.

After answering the much-expected 20 questions from Sophie about your adventurous night with a famous rockstar, you retire to your bedroom. You get changed into something more comfortable and then look down at your wrist, realizing that you’re still wearing his bracelet. You sincerely doubt that you’ll ever be able to give it back to him, so it can be a sweet keepsake. You take it off and place it on your vanity with the rest of your jewelry, and then go to sit in your bed.

You think back to the events of last night and part of you truly doesn’t believe it actually happened, especially to you. Well, you only live once, you suppose. It isn’t like anything like this would ever happen to you again in your lifetime. You’re likely never going to see him again and one day this is all going to be a distant memory. Right?

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

i hope you all enjoyed the second chapter of POTB!! comment or message me if you want to be added to the taglist!

the next chapter will involve a small time jump to the present day, so buckle up my loves!! see you soon! <3

part three

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“She can't pronounce her S's and T's clearly. Not that it ever stopped her from talking her ass off,” The young boy paused, absentmindedly staring into the comic book under him on the bed, carefully considering his words, “Around me, at least.” He added as an afterthought, fiddling with the pages using his right hand and resting his chin on the left.

“You talk about Akira as if you really love her.. do you?” Calliope asked, her head titled to the left. Her hair was as vividly crimson as he remembered it to be. The question made his eyes widen back then; after all he'd never expected to be asked something like that. From Calliope too, of all people.

He let out a little laugh as he rolled around, shutting the comic and tossing it aside.

His amused blue eyes bored into Calliope's green, upside-down as his hair fell from the bed towards the ground, just sly of touching it. “What even is really loving something?” He deadpanned. And before she could answer, he began again, “I love Nii-Nii, I love cats, I love my mom, I love winter, I love Akira, I love the smell of gasoline, I love Arthur, I love the cheap spicy fries from the alley next to our arcade. What do you make of this, then, do I really love these?”

He had said it all so.. simply, as if it was just that easy. It all felt so recent, as if the distance between the girl on his lap and him hadn't existed to begin with, as if the little girl with brown pigtails was still somewhere in there, hidden in those shallow breaths. Though, even if she was, it wouldn't change the fact that what used to be a harmonious melody is now a broken cacophony.

It wouldn't change the fact that the star guiding them home had died.

He bit his tongue, feeling the bitterness envelope him and when he looked down once more upon sensing movement. He fully expected those grey eyes to be star-lined like they once were, only to be met with stoic grey clouds, a mere hull of what it was. The boy blinked at her, slightly caught off-guard.

Right.

Things have changed. Her hair was now shorter and his longer. They've lost each other, and they keep drifting farther and farther.

The same could be said for Akira too. As she looked up at Louis, ready to embrace a blue as free as the sky, only to find the deepest of the ocean trenches. The fault was engraved within her; damned were her efforts as the girl who only knew how to break things, and when they needed fixing, she could only break them further in hopes of something fitting right, it was the same for her heart, for Louis' and—

...

It was laughable, and pitiful in all honesty.

She tore her mind off past grievances, “What's for dinner.. something sweet hopefully?” Akira asked, rubbing her eyes; her S's and T's still unclear. Just as before, her words brimmed with just as much foolishness as yesterday.

“Ugh. No, don't ask for such things when I'm cooking.” Louis gruntled, knitting his brows.

“What's the point of eating spicy everyday? My stomach is going to catch fire one of these days." Akira yawned at the end of her jest. Louis rolled his eyes hearing that, their meals were sufficiently seasoned with the spice, it was enough. (According to him.)

“You're free to cook for yourself,” He replied with a flatness thwarting his words.

“Your kitchen is gonna come burning down.”

After a few moments he clicked his tongue in defeat. “Fine.”