pt2: fourteen

When Travis and Jacob were in sixth grade, they had kissed on a dare. That was Jacob's first kiss, not that he told Travis this, or that he would ever tell Travis this.

The girl Jacob kissed now could never compare to Travis, even if the girl did not fumble or press her lips together in disgust like Travis had. 

Jacob wasn’t sure what he'd done to get in this situation, to deserve this, but he knew it was most likely some blessing from God. Not that it felt like a blessing, not that it mattered in the face of the Lord's blessings.

He had dragged Travis to a movie, and had been seated next to two girls. Jacob wondered if the guy at the ticket counter had seated them here on purpose. Something told him he probably had.  

They were watching The Lost Boys, for the theaters annual 1980s movies rerun. Jacob knew Travis would like this movie, and because Travis liked it, Jacob did too. 

It was hard for Jacob to pay attention when Travis kept laughing, kept letting his cold mask slip and display such joy. Travis got up to use the bathroom, and when he left, one of the girls moved to sit next to him, silently without a word. He hadn't even noticed until he felt a hand on his thigh.

She kissed him then, slowly and nonchalantly, as if she had done this a hundred times before. Only open mouthed, nothing more, not that Jacob could handle anything more. He kissed back, of course he did; Jacob did not want to embarrass this girl, and even if he wanted to, his fathers voice in the back of his mind told him to. who then , like he wasn't resisting the urge to cringe.

He kissed that girl until Travis came back, separating them with a glare and a cough. Jacob nervously laughed and wiped his mouth, trying to pretend like he was into it. The girl slipped away with a laugh, and a lingering hand on Jacob's shoulder. Her friend sat back down with her a couple minutes later. Jacob never even noticed she had gotten up. 

“That girl kissed me,” Travis said as they walked out of the theater. Jacob tried to ignore the jealousy in his stomach, butterflies and discomfort merging together to create an all-together sickening feeling.

“That was weird as f**k,” he laughed, trying to cover the disgust in his stomach, and swung an arm over Travis’s shoulder. Travis stiffened, but he allowed it. Jacob looked down at Travis, a fond smile on his face. 

“When do I get to stay over again?” He asked, pulling Travis in closer. 

Travis shrugged. “Oliver's been coming over, and I know you don't like him much.”

Jacob bristled. “I never said that.” he pulled his arm away, and clutched his jacket closer to him. Travis shrugged, and whispered, "I know anyway." Jacob decided to ignore that, and looked up at the sky. It was getting colder faster, and he figured it would snow before Halloween. “Do you wanna go trick or treating with me this year?” Jacob asked, leaning on Travis as they stopped at a crosswalk. 

“I dunno,” Travis muttered, staggering as he tried to hold Jacob up. Jacob bent his knees, and put his chin on Travis’s shoulder. “Would your dad make you go as a football player again or somethin’ stupid?” Travis asked, turning his head slightly. Jacob stiffened at the way Travis's hair brushed his nose. Travis tried to look at him from the corner of his eye, eyebrows furrowed when Jacob didn't reply. 

Jacob took a moment and laughed. “Probably.” His voice lowered. “That's supposin' he's home though.” He tightened his arms around Travis's shoulders, gently nosing into the other boys neck. Travis stayed still, letting his friend cling to him, then sighed.

“Oliver was talking 'bout going with me,” Travis said, walking forward as best he could. 

Jacob drew back. “Oh.”

Travis continued to walk across the street, and turned to look back at Jacob, a hand on his hip and an eyebrow raised. “You coming?” he shouted, and Jacob ran forward, grinning sheepishly.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Jacob laughed, and ran a hand through his blond hair. 

Jacob looked down at Travis as they continued to walk, smiling softly despite himself. “What do you wanna do for your birthday?” Travis asked, looking up at Jacob. Jacob didn't miss the way Travis's eyes narrowed when he saw the blond already looking at him. 

“I dunno,” Jacob shrugged, trying to brush off the way he was staring. “I don't think my dad will be back, so we’ll probably just do like we normally do.”

Travis slowly nodded. “Good.” He slipped his arm around Jacob’s waist, such a painfully familiar move that it almost made Jacob keel over. 

Jacob slowly put his arm over Travis's shoulders. “You and Oliver could always go with me,” he said lowly. Jacob was willing to put his dislike of Oliver to the side if it made Travis happy.

Travis squeezed Jacob's waist, and Jacob almost felt his heart stop. “I won't force you two to hang out. I can just tell Oliver I already have plans.”

“Okay,” Jacob sighed, separating himself from Travis. Jacob knew Travis was smart. He knew what it meant when Jacob distanced himself, even if Jacob didn't really get it himself. 

Jacob wished Travis would share his knowledge about his actions. Jacob wished he didn't live in a perpetual state of confusion. Jacob wished his dad would never come home.

That night as Jacob lay in bed, his mind wandered. He thought of those girls, the one that kissed him. He thought of how her mouth felt against his, how her hair brushed his face. 

He’d felt nothing when he kissed her. He didn’t understand.

Jacob thought of the jealousy in his stomach when he heard Travis had kissed the other girl, of the nagging thought that it should've been him instead.

Jacob rolled onto his side, curling his arms around his chest.

He wanted to get rid of the Avengers poster that still hung over his bed. He looked at the bookshelf in the corner of his room. Surprisingly enough, his dad supported Jacob's interest in mythology. “Achilles will be a good example for you,” his dad had said, adding another Greek myth book to the shopping cart, all the while letting ideas of Greek heterosexim run through his dull mind. Jacob didn't bother correcting his father.

Jacob abruptly stood up, and tore the posters down. He wondered if his dad would think Jacob standing up for himself is manly enough. 

He pulled a shoebox out from under his bed. In it was a collection of things Travis had given him. CDs and tapes, books Jacob didn't dare put on his shelf, odds and ends Travis had picked up off the side of the road. Jacob knew Travis had selected the majority of the CD's and tapes based off what Jacob liked, but Travis didn't know Jacob would like whatever Travis gave him.

Jacob took a Strokes tape out of the box, and inserted it into a Walkman Travis had given him. He put the shoebox back under his bed, and slipped the flimsy headphones on. Travis refused to let him get any newer ones for his Walkman. “It ruins it,” he’d said when Jacob asked. What “it” was, Jacob wasn’t quite sure.

Jacob sat back in his bed, and closed his eyes. He wondered if he could redecorate his room. He wondered if he could paint it the same soft gray that Travis's was. He wondered what Travis thought of before he fell asleep. He wondered if his dad knew literally every strong male in Greek mythology was bisexual. He laughed at that last thought.  

Jacob's dad never said anything about Jacob taking down the posters in his room. He actually looked kind of proud. Jacob decided that in some twisted way, that was as close to his fathers approval as he would ever get. 

Jacob listened to the bored drone of his English teacher. He had completely new teachers and classmates, the joys of the new school year. Jacob missed Miss Lane. He thought about going to visit her after school.

He did not go to visit Miss Lane. 

On Jacob's birthday, it was far more subdued than his thirteenth birthday. Travis handed him a large set of books with the murmured words, “I thought you might like these,” and Neil and Chris clapped him on the back as they did every year. The two handed him a handmade card, and shooed off the other guys. 

In the card, Jacob opened it to see a large amount of glitter fall out. Chris snickered, and Neil slapped the back of his head. Travis looked with disgust, and Jacob could see him contemplating kicking Chris in the balls. 

“Don’t,” he muttered, and Travis glared at him. Jacob laughed, and looked at the card. He looked up, a frown on his face. “This is just gibberish.” 

Neil groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Our birthday gift for you is to go trick or treating,” Chris spoke up, snickering. 

“We already have a group costume picked out,” Neil added, leaning forward to throw and arm over his friend's shoulder.

The two glanced at Travis, and he sighed. “We’ll be going as Scooby-Doo characters,” he muttered, no doubt hating every second of it. Jacob grinned, and threw an arm over Travis's shoulder. 

He lowered his mouth to Travis's ear. “Thanks Trav,” he murmured, and rested his chin on Travis's shoulder. Neil and Chris shared a look, but didn't say a word. 

That day, Travis came home with Jacob. He patiently walked, the route to Jacob's home as familiar as his own. They sat on Jacob's floor, Travis's gifts spread out between them. “What are these?” Jacob asked, looking at the disorganized mound. 

Travis picked one up. “This is the third book of the Dune series,” he picked up another. “This is Dostoevsky The Brothers Karamazov, and this”--he picked up two more books�" ” is The Diary of Anne Frank, and a copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales.” He picked up an unmarked book. “I'm not sure what this one is.” 

Jacob laughed, and Travis threw the book at him. “I got these from the lady at the library. She said most of them are too old and were gonna get thrown away.” 

Jacob playfully raised an eyebrow, mimicking one of Travis's looks. “So you gave me trash books?” 

“Would you prefer nothing?” Travis sneered. 

Jacob laughed. “You know I love them.” Jacob tucked the books under his bed, next to the shoebox. Jacob leaned back on the ground, and laughed when Travis tried to roll him under the bed. Travis collapsed on Jacob's stomach, and Jacob hesitated before placing his hand in Travis's hair. 

He began to run his hand through Travis's hair slowly, but they jumped apart when the front door banged open. “F**k,” Jacob muttered. Jacob knew his dad wouldn't do anything with Travis there, but he'd get an earful later, quite possibly a fist to the stomach. Jacob wasn't sure what his father had against Travis, but he knew it wouldn't end well for him.

Jacob jumped when his door swung open, revealing not his father, but rather his brother. “Blaine,” he gaped. Travis bristled beside him, and gripped Jacob's shirt. Jacob glanced at Travis. “What are you doing here?” he rose to his feet, and Travis followed, cowering behind his larger friend.

Blaine dropped his bag. “Can’t I visit my brother?” he asked, a wide smile on his face. Blaine stepped forward, arms open, and Jacob stepped back. 

“Does Da' know you’re here?” He asked, nudging his pile of books further under his bed with his toe. Blaine’s eyes narrowed and tracked the movement. He pasted his smile back on before he thought Jacob noticed. He did notice. 

“Nope,” he replied, popping the P. He leaned over Jacob ominously. “Nor will he ever know.” 

"Yes he will," Jacob hissed at his brothers retreating back. He knew his brother didn't do anything because Travis was there, just like their father. He did this because Garrett would always know, has always known.

He no doubt knew about the butterflies in Jacob's stomach at the mere sight of Travis, and no doubt hit his son to chase them away.

Travis left as soon as Blaine left the room. Jacob didn't blame him. 

Dinner was awkward that night. His mom said little, and Jacob said even less. Blaine sat at the head of the table, in their fathers place. It was an unspoken rule to never sit in their dads place, but Jacob knew their dad would look the other way for Blaine. He always did. 

That night, when Blaine and his mom thought Jacob was asleep, they fought. It was rare for Jacob's mom to shout, but that night, she did.

 “What are you thinking?” he heard her yell. “Your dad will kill you!” 

“As if I care,” Blaine dragged out, equally loud. Jacob could imagine him lividly waving his hands around. 

"You got kicked out!" She continued to screech. Jacob lay silently as the conversation paused, not breathing.

"You're not going to tell him," Blaine hissed, voice muffled through the walls. "Isn't that right, Ma?"

Lottie fell silent, and Jacob knew she was crying. He didn't hear anything else. Later that night, when Blaine was asleep, Jacob went to his parents room. He stood beside the bed, and held his moms hand as she cried. 

“What's wrong?” he asked, voice soft. 

“Nothin’ baby, nothin’,” she replied despite her soft crying. 

“Ma’,” Jacob started, sitting on the bed. 

She drew her hand away and rubbed her eyes. She set her hand on Jacob's thigh, and said, “I'm sorry, baby.” 

Jacob searched his moms face from where she lay. “What for?” he whispered. 

“That your fourteenth birthday sucks,” she laughed despite herself. She quickly began crying again. “That all your birthdays suck!” 

“Ma’,” Jacob began, “you know I don’t really care.” 

His mom sobbed. “You should!” She shifted down, and wrapped her arms around Jacob’s waist as best she could. Jacob looked down at his mom, at her small frame. His fingers ghosted at the skin visible where her nightgown had shifted, at the bruises on her shoulder, no doubt from his fathers last visit, unless Blaine had gotten violent.

"You deserve happy birthdays," she sniffled. “I got you a poster,” she continued, voice muffled against the blanket. “But your Da’ found it. Said it wasn’t fit for a boy." 

Jacob sighed. “It's fine Ma’.” He pulled his cross out of his shirt, and her ring jangled on it. He toyed with the ring, and stuck it on the tip of his pointer finger. “It's fine."

It didn't take much for Jacob to learn Blaine would be staying with them. It took even less for him to figure out Blaine got kicked out from college. Drugs, he had heard his brother say over the phone, but he didn't know how accurate that was.

In order, are the top five things Jacob hated most. 

The first, being his birthday. Bad things happen on his birthday, things that make him, or his mom, or even Travis, on occasion, cry. 

The second is his dad. His dad almost always caused those bad things. 

Third is his brother. If his father didn't cause those things, Blaine did. 

The fourth is Oliver Adams. He steals Travis from Jacob, makes it so Neil and Chris have to force Travis to go trick or treating with them. 

The fifth is their group costume for Halloween that year. 

When Jacob met up with Chris and Neil at Travis's house, Chris was wearing a red wig for his Daphne costume, with what Jacob assumed were fake b***s. “You make me want to kill myself,” Neil said, adjusting the orange handkerchief tied around his neck, no wig needed for his Fred costume. Chris only laughed, and hoisted up his stuffed bra. 

Travis left the house wearing an orange turtleneck, corduroy jeans, and a pair of lenseless glasses. He’d pulled his poorly cut hair into a half ponytail, and looked absolutely miserable. Jacob didn't miss the flash of Oliver's face from Travis's window. He resisted the urge to frown as he adjusted his ridiculous green shirt. 

“God, I hate this,” Jacob huffed as they began to walk. 

Travis looked up at him, distaste evident in his dark eyes. “This was your f*****g idea,” he seethed. 

“I wanted to go as Betelgeuse, or something cool!” Jacob shouted. 

Neil laughed, and slung one arm over Jacob, and the other over Chris, drawing them close to him.

Jacob slept over at Neil’s that night. They got home at 11 pm, and stayed up until 3 am playing video games and watching movies. With Neil, Jacob didn't have to pretend to be a manly man. He could sit on the couch in Chris’s room, and let Neil’s younger sister cuddle up to his side. He could binge watch the cheesiest horror movies he'd ever seen, and laugh at the crappy effects. 

Jacob wondered if Neil knew that Jacob appreciated this. He wasn't quite sure. 

He wondered if he should tell him. He did not.

When Jacob got home the next day, his dad was finally home. He smelled faintly of a woman's perfume, but said nothing to Jacob. Jacob knew he was fuming over Blaine, and so he said nothing. On the way to his room, he stopped when he saw Blaine leaning on his doorway. 

“Get the f**k out,” Jacob sneered, putting his costume on his bed. 

Blaine smiled an awful smile. Jacob looked over his shoulder, and looked at him. “Dad wants you,” was all Blaine said before he walked out the door. Jacob panicked. He stuck his head under the bed, and cursed under his breath when he saw his shoebox and books were missing. 

Jacob shuffled out of his room, fist clenched and brow furrowed. “What the f**k is this?” his dad shrieked, throwing a tape down. He gestured wildly at the coffee table. He was foaming at the mouth “F****n’- books�" and�" and�"” he waved a book around, ignoring the way Jacob fumed. “Where the f**k did you get this stuff?” 

“What the f**k do you want me to say?” Jacob shouted back, picking his stuff off the table. 

“I want you to tell me where you got this s**t from!” 

Blaine stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching it all with that hideous smirk on his mouth. Jacob wanted to throw up. As Jacob continued fighting with his dad, he prayed his mom was out. He prayed she was shopping, or getting her car checked up. He prayed she was not about to witness her husband whaling on her son again.

When his dad advanced towards Jacob, fist raised, Jacob clutched his things to his chest, and kicked his dad in the leg. His father hesitated for a moment, clutching his knee, and Jacob took the chance to run out. Jacob knew his father was following him as he ran to Travis's house, but it didn’t matter. Jacob was young, and his father was not.

Jacob's dad didn't try to take Jacob's books from him again. Jacob supposed that him standing up to his dad had finally proved his manliness. After that, Jacob kept the books from Travis on his shelf. 

That winter, Jacob met a girl. Her name was Mikaela. He didn't like her much, but she liked him. Jacob didn't like her, but his father thinking he had a girlfriend made everything much easier on him, made the voice always whispering in his ear stop. He could count on the horrid feeling that came with dating Mikaela to cover up nervousness in his stomach when Travis was near.

Jacob liked that his father stopped sneering “f****t,” when Jacob did something a little less than manly. Jacob liked that the guys at school didn't pressure him to get a girlfriend, or that girls didn't throw themselves at him, as best as their fourteen year old selves could. 

Jacob would later learn the term “beard”, and how it correlated to their relationship. 

The only person who looked at them different was Travis, but Jacob didn’t really mind. Travis had his precious Oliver, and had stopped talking to Jacob in school so much. Jacob was scared of what freshman year would do to the two of them. 

Jacob had every right to be scared of freshman year. After that summer, he barely talked to Travis again.