pt2: seventeen

This chapter comes in at over 6k words and a large portion of it is mostly filler smut, but it does serve a purpose. 

Jacob almost died when he saw Travis in that ice cream shop. Travis was stunning, that stud in his eyebrow, hair finally professionally cut, apron wrapped around his small waist and rings on his slender fingers. God, Jacob missed him.

“I'll be with you in a moment,” Travis had said, spinning around with a wide smile on his face. He looked so happy it made Jacob hurt, and he hurt even more when Travis's smile slipped off his face. “Oh.”

Jacob looked away, and resisted the urge to fidget. “Hi.”

When Travis put on a fake fake fake smile, Jacob nearly died. “What can I get for you?” He asked, voice falsely warm. 

Jacob looked over his shoulder, looking to Chris's truck filled with the guys, and felt goosebumps appear on the back of his neck when he felt Travis's gaze on him. “Three small vanilla and one medium mint chocolate. Those f*****s can suffer.”

Jacob stood there, eyes wide, looking at Travis's eyes turn even colder. “Um-” he stuttered. 

Travis interrupted him with a raised hand.  “No Mikaela today?” he bit out, looking down. Jacob looked down nervously, and didn't look up. “Hmmmm. Here you go.” Jacob startled when Travis slammed the cups down, and wanted to cry when he saw that fake smile again. 

Jacob stuttered out a feeble, “Can I get a bag?” and jumped once more when Travis slammed a bag down. “Listen, Travis-” Jacob began, clutching the bag. 

Travis put a hand up. “Stop. I don't wanna hear it.” Jacob hurt so so so much as he put the ice creams in the bag, feeling Travis's cold gaze on him. 

Jacob sighed when the doorbell rung, a black haired boy sauntering up to the counter, standing next to him. His heart almost stopped when that black haired boy kissed Travis on the cheek, looked at him with such softness in his eyes. Jacob had never known something could hurt oh so much. 

Jacob didn't know what to say, so he ignored the boy leaning over the counter next to him, put way too much money on the counter, and left empty handed. He ignored his friends' complaints, and the way Neil and Chris shared a knowing glance. He hated it when they did that. 

Jacob began to go to Travis's work every day after that. He would only pull out his hand-me-down laptop, type away on it pointlessly, then leave after a couple hours.

One night, a couple days after Jacob added visiting Travis into his summer schedule, Cook slept over. He and Jacob didn't actually sleep, rather they made out for a bit, then Cook lay on Jacob's chest and whispered, "There's a party this Saturday, if you wanna go." Jacob hummed, the thought of seeing Travis earlier that day still ingrained in his mind.

"Sure," he hummed, anticipating another distraction from both Travis, and Cook's unwillingness to go any further than kissing.

Jacob wasn't sure what he was thinking, inviting Travis to that party. He wasn't sure what he'd been thinking, so he made up for his stupidity by getting absolutely fucked. He greatly regretted that the next morning. 

When Travis had walked into the house, neck covered in hickeys, looking better than Jacob had ever seen, he felt a surge of… something. Maybe it was lust. Maybe it was possession. He wasn't sure. 

But when Travis began drinking, began dancing, hips swaying to the Gorillaz song on, that feeling in Jacob's stomach only swelled, making the discomfort already present from the alcohol double.

Jacob didn't really remember what happened next. He woke up in a bed, and vaguely remembered Travis's familiar scent.

Jacob stood up, swaying on his feet, and ran a hand through his hair, blond locks already in disarray. He sighed, going into the adjoining bathroom to redo his hair, splashing water on his face. He groans once more, cleaning his face off, and goes downstairs.

When Jacob got to the bottom of the stairs, looking into the crowded living room, he felt the feeling from earlier once more in his stomach when he saw Travis was still there, drunk, dancing sloppily. Jacob swallowed heavily, feeling a lump in his throat, and without thinking, wove his way through the crowd. He grabbed Travis's wrist, and pulled an unwilling Travis into a linen closet upstairs.

How ironic, Jacob thought, two f**s back in the closet. Not that Travis had ever been in the closet in the first place, but the thought still remained.

Jacob sighed, blocking out Travis's shouts, and groaned out,“I jus’ wanna talk.”

“About what."

Jacob slid down the wall to sit on the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest, and rested his head on them. He continued to ignore Travis, taking a moment to compose himself. He could feel a hangover already coming on.

"I missed you," Jacob whispered, voice muffled by his current position.

“What was that?” Travis snapped, and Jacob's head immediately snapped up. He took a moment, trying to cover for himself, and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Did that guy from your work f**k you?” He asked loudly, pretending that was what he asked first.

Travis cocked his head, squinting in that cute way he always had since they were young.

Jacob sighed once more, asking again, “Did that guy from your work f**k you?”

Travis laughed and said with a scoff, “Of course he did. He's my f*****g boyfriend. Not that you care,”

Jacob wanted to cry, but he would not allow himself to appear weak in front of Travis, not now, not here. He knew Travis would tear him apart. "I do care," he groaned, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Oh now you care? Over a year of not talking to me and now you care? F**k. you. Jacob Lewinsky. F**k. You.” 

Jacob rose to his feet, standing in front of the door just as Travis tried shoving past him.

Jacob felt a swell of jealousy once more, looking at the hickeys on Travis's neck.“I don't want you around that guy anymore," he whispered, eliciting a frown from his former best friend.

"Who the f**k are you to stop me from f*****g my goddamn boyfriend?” 

Jacob closed his eyes. “Please stop.”

“Do you want to hear about how I fucked Blake?!”

“Stop!” Jacob shouted, feeling his voice waver.

Travis continued nonetheless, pacing in the small space. "Do you want to hear about how I let him f**k me?!” 

Jacob clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew he brought this on himself, knew he goaded Travis into this, but what was a man to do?

Travis stopped his pacing, nearing Jacob, and looking up at him. “Do you want to hear about how he spread me open.” Jacob allowed himself to open his eyes, and immediately regretted it. “How he stuck his fingers in my mouth until they were wet and then stuck them up my a*s?” 

Travis backed Jacob up against the wall of the closet, and Jacob squeezed his eyes shut once more, trying to ignore how badly he wanted to cave, to let himself enjoy Travis running his hands over his body. He hoped Travis was at least mildly impressed with his muscle definition. "How he ran his hands over me, just. Like. this?” 

Jacob had to withhold a groan, tilting his head back as Travis ghosted his lips over Jacob's throat. "Do you want to hear about how he pounded me into the ground until I was a drooling mess?”

Jacob gasped when Travis drew back, looking down at the brunet with visible hurt in big blue eyes. "That's what I thought,” Travis muttered, and Jacob saw the same familiar cruelty that was present in Travis when they were younger, somehow multiplied after all these years.

Jacob groaned, giving in to his urges, and pulled Travis back towards him. Travis opened his mouth, no doubt to complain, but Jacob would not allow that. Rather, he smashed his mouth to Travis's, moving his lips against Travis's, and forcing his tongue into Travis's mouth. Jacob drew Travis closer to him, grinning into the kiss when Travis began to reciprocate. Jacob pulled back with a chaste peck on lax lips, a dazed look on Travis's normally bitter face.

Jacob gasped, dropping his face to Travis's shoulder, and pressed open mouthed kisses onto Travis's neck, grinding against him. Jacob raised his head, looking at Travis with a desperate question visible in the lines of his face, in the set of his large body.

“Just this once,” Travis sighed, and Jacob wanted to sob with drunken, lustful relief.

“Just this once, I promise," Jacob replied, bending ever so slightly to press another kiss onto Travis's willing mouth. His hand slipped down Travis's chest, lingering on the flatness of his stomach, before sliding his hands onto the waistband of Travis's jeans. He hesitated a moment, and when Travis didn't push him away, he unbuttoned the jeans, letting Travis grind into his hand, before kissing down Travis's chest, taking care to kiss each of his ribs and pecs through his thin shirt.

Jacob did not waste time in pulling Travis's boxers down, just enough to free his dick, then took it into his mouth. Jacob was practiced at this, having spent many a sleepless night giving and receiving blowjobs with Cook. He looked up, eyes filled with awe. He had never thought he would have Travis like this, hands in his hair and eyes half mast with lust.

After a couple minutes of Jacob's devote attention, Travis muttered a breathy "‘M close," and Jacob felt like coming then and there.

When Travis came, Jacob did not lift himself of Travis's c**k until he was sure the other teen was done. Jacob rose to his feet, pressed a chaste kiss to Travis's mouth, then asked, "Did Blake do that for you?” before leaving the closet. He did not listen to Travis's reply.

He was not ready to face his sins.

He was in a small town a couple hours away, almost out of state, at some college frat party. He'd been on the dance floor, cup in hand, tipsy�" but not too drunk to not drive home in his moms car, when he saw the guy. He was attractive enough (almost enough so to make Jacob forget his previous encounter with Travis), so Jacob pushed away his fathers voice that was rebuking him for thinking that, just as he had been for the past year.

His father wasn’t there, nor were any of his friends, or girlfriend, or even people from their town. Jacob could look at this man unashamedly, so he did. The guy noticed Jacob dancing, noticed the way he looked at him. 

He sauntered up to Jacob, and put a hand on Jacob's shoulder, grinning seductively. “Hi,” the guy said, plucking Jacob's cup from his hand. 

“Hi,” Jacob returned, watching the guy take a sip from the cup. His eyes traced the way the guy's Adams apple bobbed, the way his multiple piercings reflected the dim light of the room.

“The names’ Steve,” the guy�"Steve�" shouted over the music.

Jacob thought for a moment. “Adam,” he shouted back. Jacob did not trust this man, nor this place, enough to give his true name.

“Nice to meet you… Adam," Steve said, looking Jacob over. Jacob took his cup back, and put his lips to where Steve's had been. He maintained eye contact as he downed the rest of the cup, and licked his lips. Steve tracked the motion with his eyes. Steve's tongue flicked out to moisten his lips, tongue piercing flashing in the light.

Jacob raised a single eyebrow, grinning behind his cup. Steve wasted no time in pulling Jacob down by the shirt, and mashing their mouths together. Kissing Steve was different than kissing Cook. Where Cook kissed soft and gently, patiently almost, Steve kissed like he was hurried, scared. He felt warmth pool in his stomach, and it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate the kiss, for him to moan as Steve's tongue slid against his. 

Jacob could feel Steve's smile against his mouth. Steve pulled away, just enough to murmur, “Follow me,” against Jacob's trembling skin. He took Jacob's wrist, and led him upstairs, sliding his fingers into Jacob's palm.

Normally Jacob felt a twist of anxiety in his gut when it came to this part, to doing more than flirting, like he did with Cook. He liked how Steve had felt against him on the dance floor, all hard angles and rough hands, how he nearly matched Jacob in height, and liked the cold slide of Steve's lip piercings on his mouth. 

There was one thing Jacob liked more than Steve against him, and that was Steve under him. Steve had not hesitated to pull Jacob's shirt off, to kiss over his chest and stomach until he was covered in hickeys, sliding his hands up and down Jacob's well muscled body.

Jacob didn’t hesitate to do the same, slipping his hands under Steve's shirt to grope at his leaner frame. Steve was like Travis in almost every way. Jacob supposed he would do, he would do just fine.  

When Steve removed his boxers and crawled onto the bed, something clicked inside Jacob. He quickly followed suit, and as he hovered over Steve, looking at the older man’s face, and lunged down to kiss Steve once more, before mouthing at the man's neck and collarbones.

Jacob had not had actual sex with Cook, not yet. Not that he would tell Steve that this was his first actual time with a guy, but the knowledge gave Jacob a rush of some unknown hormone.

Jacob grinned, and spat into his hand, beginning to stroke Steve's dick from where it stood erect under him. Jacob relished in the way Steve writhed, eyes closed and mouth agape. Jacob lowered his mouth to Steve's again, and slowly slid his hand down to Steve's hole. 

Steve gasped at the intrusion, but didn’t stop him, beginning to writhe as Jacob plunged two slick fingers into him. Jacob looked around for lube, but Steve stopped him. “I like it rough,” he said, voice low. Jacob only grinned, and rolled on a condom he kept in his wallet, before he plunged his dick into Steve's quivering little hole. 

Jacob let out a guttural moan as he bottomed out, and began snapping his hips back and forth. Steve whined, and clutched Jacob's back. Jacob relished in the way Steve's short nails scratched his skin, the way he bit into where Jacob's shoulder met his neck. 

Jacob whispered filthy nothings in Steve's ears. Jacob came when Steve did, the tight constricting of Steve's hole milking every drop of cum from Jacob. 

Steve was the best f**k Jacob had ever had. 

He regretted nothing about that night. Until he had to drive home and hide the hickeys Steve left on him from his family and friends. He regretted that part, but only a little. He was kind of proud of the bruises, how they stood out on the skin of his neck, red bite marks peppered throughout them.

When the priest asked Jacob if he had any sins to confess on Sunday, he considered telling him how he’d fucked Steve into a mattress, then left him there still shaking from the aftermath of his orgasm, covered in his own cum. But he didn’t. 

Instead, Jacob settled on telling him, “lust.” The priest didn’t doubt that. Jacob was an attractive teenage boy, and the whole congregation knew he had a girlfriend. The priest didn't know the reason for that lust until Jacob's last Sunday in their godforsaken town. 

Steve was the first of Jacob's whorish endeavors. He wasn't the best, but he also wasn't the worst. Every Friday night, rather than hanging out with his friends, he would give his mom a hasty, half baked lie, take her car keys, and pick up guys in nearby towns. 

More often than not he was drunk. More often than not he didn't even know their names. More often than not, he had to hide hickeys, again. More often than not, he had to lie to everyone around him. That part he hated. 

More often than not, he didn't do such a good job hiding the hickies.

He couldn't deny the gay rumors, now he was actually gay. He couldn't deny drifting from Mikaela now he knew the reason for his disgust. He had been drifting for a while now. They both knew it, both felt terrible, and both blamed it on themselves.

Jacob regretted cheating on Mikaela, but the sex felt good, so that meant he couldn't be wrong for being like this, right?

Jacob began confessing to lust a whole lot more. And lying. He confessed to that a lot too. He continued to distance himself from Neil and Chris, but not Cook. Never Cook. Sometimes he would take Cook with him, would make out with him on a couch when there were no others worthy of their attention.

Then, one Friday night, sometime in mid-September, he was caught. 

Mikaela had been dropped by Jacob again. She wasn't sure what he did with his newfound free time, but he definitely didn't sit around his room like he said he did. At least, not every Friday since the beginning of school. She was in a town a couple hours out, at a party with her friends. She wasn't quite sure how they'd even heard about that party, but that was okay. 

Mikaela was kind of drunk, waiting for her friends to finish freshening up in the bathroom, and was leaning on a counter in the kitchen, when she saw Jacob. He was walking into the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge, and stopped in his tracks when he saw Mikaela. She pushed off the counter and shouted, “So this is what you've been doing? Going out to parties thinking I would care?” 

She didn't see the look of panic in his eyes, didn't see the man rounding the corner until it was too late.

The man slipped his arm around Jacob's waist, and asked, “What's this?” Her eyes narrowed, and zeroed in at the man's arm on Jacob's narrow hips. Mikaela swirled her cup with interest, eyes narrowed. She swallowed down what was left in her cup, and stalked towards Jacob.

Jacob swallowed, and her eyes tracked the movement, and the way the man turned his face into Jacob's side, moving to his front. She watched as the man looked up into Jacob, all stringy brown hair and even browner eyes. She knew exactly what this was, why this strange man looked so similar.

Jacob broke away from the hug, and went back to the fridge. “It's nothing,” he said, bending down to pull out an unmarked bottle. He did not spare Mikaela a glance as he poured the liquid into two cups, handing one to the man, and walking out. Mikaela wanted to cry. 

Mikaela did not immediately feel anger. Rather, she felt immense sadness, but that didn't last long.

When Lily and Michelle left the bathroom, Mikaela was a fuming mess. “We’re going,” she sneered, walking out of the kitchen. Mikaela cried on the ride home. 

Mikaela was mad, was seething, even. She was not mad at Jacob for cheating on her. He was not the first man to do so. She was mad that he was hiding such a secret, was using her in such a way. That was far worse than him being gay. That was far worse than pushing her away as if she wouldn't understand, wouldn't cover for him, lie for him.

Jacob was absolutely terrified. He'd done his best to not show it, but he was. Jacob finished with his conquest of the night and drove home. 

Mikaela never told a soul. She approached him on a school day and said, “I'm not breaking up with you, but this can't go on." Jacob felt like throwing up, nervously waiting for her to continue. He thought of the rumors that would start circulating around him at school, how Chris and Neil would never look at him the same again.

Mikaela sighed, pinching her brow with her manicured nails. "I will lie for you, and I will be your friend, but it cannot go on like this." Jacob stayed silent, looking anywhere but Mikaela.

In the wake of Jacob's adventures, he turned to his schoolwork. Jacob began focusing on his mythology studies, and even broadened his horizons to religion. One day Jacob was in the library, when he saw a boy sitting in the corner. He stopped browsing the religion and mythology section, and began watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. 

His eyes flicked down to what the boy was reading. The Good Earth. Travis always liked that book, back when he and Jacob still talked. Jacob wondered if Travis still liked that book. His eyes flicked up to the boy's face. He was thin, willowy almost. His greenish eyes were lowered at the page, and he chewed his lip lightly. He tucked a strand of his wavy hair behind his ear as he turned the page. 

Jacob kind of liked him. Not in a like like way, but more in the way he liked the guys he picked up, more in a sexual way, rather than a romantic way. Jacob thought he was pretty, so he smoothed his face as he walked to the boy, adding a slight sway to his hips. “Hi,” he said, leaning on the table.

 The younger teen stuttered back a reply, looking up from his book. 

Jacob sat at the table, a theology book clutched in his hand. “What you readin’?”

The boy looked down at his book, and glanced up at Jacob from under pale eyelashes. Jacob felt a surging in his gut. “M’ names Gabe.”

“Jacob,” he said with a smile, sticking out his hand. 

The boy looked down, and a blush covered his face. “I know,” he murmured. Jacob dropped his hand. 

“Do you now?” He quipped, smile becoming wider. Gabe looked away. Jacob wanted to lick his lips at the sight of Gabe's blush traveling down his neck and into his sweater. “Cold, isn't it?” Jacob asked, waiting for Gabe to notice the way Jacob's eyes wandered Gabe's upper half. Gabe did notice. He only flushed all the more. 

Jacob wanted to lick down Gabe's neck down to where the blush stopped, and turn it a deep purple instead. Jacob knew Gabe caught the appraising, lustful way Jacob looked at him. Based on the way Gabe looked away and shuffled his legs under the table, he liked it. 

Jacob got up, and walked around the table to where Gabe sat. He ran two finger over Gabe's thin shoulders, and reached over him. He bent in a way so that his chest bent against Gabe's back, breath wafting over the boy's ear. He picked up Gabe's forgotten book, and thumbed through it, straightening up. Gabe swallowed when he sat down next to him. 

“Good book?” Jacob asked, glancing at Gabe from the corner of his eye. Gabe nodded frantically, glancing away. “Hmmm,” Jacob drawled, setting the book down. He propped his head up on a hand, and looked over Jacob. He flicked his eyes back to the boy's face, and smiled slowly.

“Are you… like that?” Gabe asked, voice low, eyes moving around nervously. 

Jacob shrugged. “I dunno. Could be though.” His voice was just as low, seductive as he knew how to make it. Gabe's tongue quickly swiped over his bottom lip, and Jacob tracked the movement. Jacob leaned forward, as if asking Gabe's permission. Gabe flicked his eyes from Jacob's eyes, down to his lips. He looked back up, and when Gabe didn't back away, Jacob took it as his answer. 

He leaned forward more until their lips were a breath away, and changed his course to Gabe's ear instead. “Where's your place?” He asked, not missing the pent up breath Gabe let out. 

“I'll show you,” Gabe stuttered, grabbing his stuff. 

Gabe's house was nice enough, small, yet empty and skeletal. Jacob thought small houses were supposed to be homey. Not his though; his house would never be homey. His room, maybe, now it was repainted and more or less to Jacob's liking, but never his home itself. Gabe's house should've felt homey. It didn't. 

“My aunt’s working,” Gabe said, guiding Jacob to his room. 

“Ah,” he replied, looking around. 

Gabe led Jacob to his room, and awkwardly sat down on the bed. Jacob took a moment to appraise the room, the art on the walls and indie movie posters, then shut the door. It closed with a click, and Jacob leaned against the door, smile on his face. He moved forward slowly, and sat next to Gabe on the bed. 

Gabe swallowed audibly, and looked down at his hands. Jacob held Gabe's chin and turned his face, grin still in place. He brought their faces close, and kissed Gabe slowly, softly, not at all like how Jacob wanted to be with him. Jacob knew when guys liked it soft in the beginning. He knew Gabe was one of those guys. 

Jacob was slow when he took his hands to Gabe's hair, slow when he took his mouth from Gabe's lips to his neck, eliciting a gasp from the redhead. Jacob kissed his neck for a moment more, until he was sure there was a small hickey there, and brought his lips back up to Gabe's. 

Jacob swiped his tongue across Gabe's lower lip, memorizing how chapped they were, no doubt from Gabe chewing them. Gabe quickly let his tongue in, and it didn't take long for the kiss to become messy, frantic. Gabe climbed into Jacob's lap, and Jacob let him. Jacob chuckled into Gabe's mouth when he began grinding into him, relishing Gabe's energy. 

He slipped his hand up into Gabe's shirt, letting his hands wander over Gabe's thin frame. He leaned back until Gabe was straddling him, their lips still connected. Gabe shrieked lightly when Jacob flipped him onto his back, and Jacob laughed. 

Jacob threw his shirt off, and Gabe quickly followed suit. Jacob took a moment to sit back, and look at Gabe, his flushed skin and thin frame, lips parted and puffy, green eyes darkened. He kissed Gabe again, roughly, unforgivingly, hands gripping Gabe's side with bruising strength. Gabe moaned under him, and rutted up against him. 

Jacob laughed lowly, when he pulled away and Gabe whined. He moved to kiss Gabe's chest, busying his hands with undoing Gabe's pants. He pulled away just long enough to strip Gabe of his jeans and shoes, leaving him lying there in his boxers. 

Gabe groaned, and Jacob smiled as he lowered his mouth to kiss Gabe's inner thigh. He kissed the bulge in Gabe's boxers, and watched the boy squirm under him. He licked where the waistband met skin, and Gabe's boxers joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Jacob wasted no time in taking Gabe's hard dick into his mouth, deepthroating him until Gabe was a flushed mess, reddish hair sticking to his forehead and hands in Jacob's hair. 

Jacob took his mouth off Gabe's dick just before he could come, making Gabe whine and beg moreso than before. Jacob lowered his mouth to Gabe's for a kiss. He murmured sweet nothings into Gabe's mouth, and pulled away to grab his backpack. He pulled out a packet of lube and a condom, tossed them onto the bed, and lay on top of Gabe again. 

“You sure?” he asked, laying his full weight on Gabe. Gabe laughed, shoving at Jacob, not that he could displace the far larger, heavier, teen currently on top of him.

“I'm sure.” 

Jacob spread Gabe's legs, and squeezed lube onto fingers. He inserted his fingers into Gabe's quivering hole, and watched how Gabe shivered and writhed as Jacob added a second finger, beginning to scissor them. Before long, Jacob removed his pants and rolled on a condom. Jacob groaned when he inserted himself into Gabe's a*s, and began thrusting relentlessly. 

When they both were done, and Jacob collapsed on Gabe's bed, he looked up at the ceiling and said, “You know this is a one time thing, right?” 

“I know,” Gabe muttered, nodding. 

“Cool,” Jacob huffed out, standing up. He pulled his pants and boxers up, and re-tied his Vans. He slipped his shirt on with a glance backwards, and didn't say a word as he left Gabe's room. 

That winter, Gabe began dating a guy at school. He wasn't much, another thin boy, and reminded Jacob of Travis. He had no doubt gone to school with him for years, the brunet flying under Jacob's radar. Maybe it was his shaggy brown hair, maybe it was his bored, bored eyes; maybe it was that Jacob himself was bored. 

Jacob had his turn with the guy�"Matteo. He had his turn with Gabe again too. Neither of them knew they were cheating on their partners with him. 

Jacob didn’t live in fear like he should've. He wasn't scared that one of those two boys would let it slip he slept with them, and it eventually became a rumor around school. 

Jacob's dad eventually heard that rumor. 

The day Garrett heard the rumor, he was out for drinks with his friends on a Sunday night. 

“‘Ey Garrett,” a man had said, throwing his arm over Garrett's shoulders. The man was drunk, so Garrett didn't think much of him.  “‘Ave you ‘eard the rumours ‘bout your boy Jacob?” This caught his attention. He set his cup of beer down on the bar. 

“‘N’ what's that?” he asked, slurring his words to match the man, not that he was drunk enough for it to occur naturally.

“They’ve been sayin’ ‘e’s a f****t,” the man hiccuped. Garrett bristled.

“‘Ave they now?"

Another man sidled up to Garrett. Mark. He worked with Garrett. “My boys’ have been saying someones spreading rumors about your boy sleepin’ ‘round,” Mark said, throwing the man's arm off Garrett's shoulders. 

Garrett frowned. “That's perfectly normal.”

 The man laughed. “‘E’s been sleepin’ round wit’ boys,” he guffawed, clapping Garrett's back. 
Garrett fumed on the ride back home. Everything suddenly made a lot of sense to him. Jacob's reluctance to sports, his inclination to books, he and his f*****g faggy best friend. 

Garrett took his anger out on Charlotte that night. He didn't care if she deserved it or not. Garrett never said a word about what he'd heard. He never punished Jacob for it either. Jacob had begun to scare Garrett, had grown too tall, too strong. Garrett should've known this would have happened when he pressured Jacob to join any sports he could. 

Garrett never said a word about the rumors until Jacob's eighteenth birthday, choosing to forgo ruining his seventeenth in favor of visiting his mistress. He was good at saving the worst things for what was supposed to be his youngest son's most precious moments. He relished in it, in fact, so he let his anger fester and ooze. 

Jacob and Lottie were alone for Jacob's birthday that week, a date that ironically fell on a Sunday. Jacob knew his father probably skipped on coming home, just because of his birthday. His father was cruel like that.

Jacob was sitting at the dining table, watching his mom move around the kitchen preparing dinner for Neil, Chris, Cook, herself, and Jacob. Jacob sighed, stretching a hand out to slip it into his mothers own. She smiled softly, bending at the waist to press a kiss to Jacob's forehead. "Happy birthday, baby," she said softly, pulling her hand away with a laugh.

"Soon, Ma'," Jacob gently reminded her, and she smiled.

"What are you going to do when you move out?" She asked, not turning to look at her son. Jacob was already looking at her nonetheless.

Jacob hummed for a moment, leaning back into his chair. "I'd like to get an apartment. Get a bunch of books and records." Jacob grinned, and his mother turned to look at him, a similar smile on her tired face. "I want to make a home, Ma'."

"I know, baby," she whispered, bringing a hand up to wipe at her face. Jacob rose, sidling behind his mother, and hugging her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on the crook of her shoulder. She began to sway to some unheard song, Jacob copying her.

"You mean the world to me, Jacob," Lottie whispered, hesitating. "You know that, right?"

"I know Ma'," Jacob replied, sniffling. She hummed, whisking the cake batter in a bowl, going back to swaying. She laughed, arm movement restricted by Jacob's arms around her waist.

"Move, ya' big lug," Lottie laughed, elbowing at Jacob playfully.

"Yeah yeah yeah," Jacob chuckled, going back to his seat. He pulled his phone out of his pants pocket, seeing a couple of texts from Neil and Chris both. "The guys are coming over in a couple hours," he said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

Lottie did not reply. Jacob rose from the table, humming as he walked upstairs and into his room. Jacob grabbed a book from his shelf, taking his Walkman from his bedside table.

He inserted a tape at random, putting the headphones around his neck and the Walkman into his back pocket. Jacob hummed as he did so, not really knowing what he was humming. He liked it better like that.

Jacob walked downstairs, and dropped the book that he had in his hand. In the kitchen, was his father, mother backed up to the counter out of fear. "What are you doing home?" she stuttered, visibly terrified.

Garrett grinned, a cruel, awful thing, and Jacob moved forward without thinking. "It's Sunday, and I always come home on Sundays," he sneered.

"Back off," Jacob growled, grabbing his dad's shoulder, spinning the man around to face him.

Garrett rose to the challenge, puffing out his chest, as if he could ever compare to the man he made. "And what will you do if I don't?"

Jacob mimicked Garrett's grin, straightening his shoulders to rise to his full height. "Do you really want to find out, Dad?"

Garrett laughed, and poked Jacob's chest. "I do, I really do."

Jacob shoved his father, the man stumbling back. Garrett smirked, relishing in his son's anger. "Just like your old man, aren't you?" Garrett hissed, readying to punch his youngest son. Jacob squared himself, raising clenched fists to block his face.

"I'll never be like you," Jacob growled, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Lottie was safe. Garrett laughed, not dropping his fists. Lottie, for once, did not cower. Rather, she ran to her and Garrett's shared room, and opened the drawer of Garrett's nightstand.

Lottie came back downstairs to find Garrett hissing at their son, cursing him to Garrett's own future. "You will," Garrett was seething. "You'll marry some girl you don't really like, and have kids you don't really like, and a job you hate, and go out and sleep with pretty little things to escape how much you hate your family," Garrett spat, spittle spraying over his chin.

"What?" Lottie squeaked out, tucking Garrett's handgun behind her back. "You what?" She shook her head, and felt Jacob place a large hand on her shoulder. "Get out," she ordered, looking at her husband with tears in her eyes. "I've had enough. Out."

Garrett stalked towards her, keeping an eye on their son beside her. "And why should I?" Lottie continued to frown, and raised her hand, in it, Garrett's handgun. Garrett's eyes widened, gaze zeroed in on the black, heavy thing, held in Lottie's normally petite grip.

"Out," she continued, lifting her other hand to c**k the gun. Garrett got out. He brought his meager possessions, cast one loathsome glance at Lottie and Jacob, and left.

"Well," Lottie huffed, "That was enough excitement for the day." She walked past a stunned Jacob back upstairs, locked the gun away, and went back downstairs.

"Ma…" Jacob said hesitantly, reaching a hand out.

""M fine love," she laughed, putting her apron back on and finishing the batter for Jacob's cake.

"Are you sure?" Jacob whispered, still frozen to the floor.

"Of course, baby. Of course I am." Lottie laughed, freely, joyously. Sure, a sob or two slipped out between her guffaws, but still she laughed.

Jacob watched his mother wipe a tear or two away, and begin to whisk the batter again. She looked over her shoulder, eyes slightly puffy, and waved her son away. "Shoo, your friends will get here soon."

Jacob left the kitchen silently, trudged up the stairs, and sat on his bed. He sat for a moment, then laid back, and said to the ceiling, "Huh."

Jacob and his friends had fun that night, to say the least. Lottie was entertaining, funny even. Jacob had never heard his mother willingly crack a joke in years. Cook sat close to Jacob, of course he did, and this did not escape Lottie's gaze. She in fact, winked secretly at Jacob many times that night, specifically when Cook did overly familiar things like put his hand on Jacob's thigh.

When everyone was asleep, Neil and Chris settled on the couch and floor of the living room, and Cook asleep on his usual spot in Jacob's bed, Jacob came out to his mom. He did it quietly, in the door of her room, and only said, "I think I'm gay." Not that there was any thinking to be done about it, but this is what he said nonetheless.

Lottie only looked at him, and whispered, "I know."

Jacob and his mother did not go back to church next Sunday.

Jacob did not hook up with random guys anymore. He also cut off whatever he had going on with Cook.