#rockfic

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Jake kiszka x reader

warnings: alcohol; some dirty talks (no explicit scene); a little bit angst

A/N: hey guys i had this idea and i managed to write really fast so i thought i’d post since it’s been a few days since the last one!! I hope y'all like it!! <3 (and only if anyone is in doubt, yes I will post maneskin fics!! sorry for the delay! I’ll post soon)

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“Wake up, who cares about little boys that talk too much […] Let me be the one to hold you.”

“Oh my God! Do you want to kill me, Jake?” I am startled when I open the bathroom door and my flatmate appears in front of me.

“Were you planning on living in the bathroom?” he asks leaning one arm on the door.

“And you were counting how many minutes I was in the bathroom?"I cross my arms.

"It’s hard not to when you’ve been waiting more than ten minutes for someone to come out of the bathroom so you can pee.” He smiles falsely at me and nudges my waist lightly. “Now get out.”

I roll my eyes and sigh as I walk down the stairs that lead to the second floor of the house of some friend of Jake’s, who I didn’t make a point of asking his name.

The party around me seems more crowded than when I went upstairs to go to the bathroom, it gives me the feeling of suffocation, or maybe it’s because I can’t look away from the couple on the other side of the room, I can see her fingers running through his long hair as he whispers something in her ear.

“Why do you look like you’re about to commit murder?” I bring my hand up to my chest and stifle a scream of surprise.

“Damn, you’ve got to be kidding me, Jake!” I turn around in time to see Jake hold back a laugh.

“I brought beer!” He holds out a bottle in my direction.

I smile weakly at it. “No, thanks.” I can’t control my gaze and he turns back to the other side of the room, where Ethan’s lips are no longer on the blonde girl’s ear.

They are on her mouth.

“Actually, I want.” I turn quickly to Jake and take the bottle from his hand.

He looks at me confused but then lets out an anasalated laugh while drinking his own beer.

I try not to look across the room and try to distract myself with something else.

“Why do you still like him?” I raise my head to Jake, confused, and he discreetly points to Ethan.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I giggle and try to sound as sincere as possible.

Jake smiles weakly and looks at you. “When we were sophomores, you cried because he didn’t call you to prom.”

“Do you remember that?” My surprise makes me give up lying to him.

Jake shakes his head. “And two weeks ago you were freaking out because he followed you on instagram.”

“I did not freak out!” I push him lightly with my shoulder.

Jake laughs and runs his hand through his hair. “But that’s okay, I don’t think he can be any worse than Brian.”

When you hear the name of your first college boyfriend, for the first time in the night you push Ethan out of your thoughts. “Do you remember Brian? We only dated for two weeks!” I look at Jake in disbelief.

“Yeah, and you smeared two of my shirts with mascara from crying so much.”

I look away from him, embarrassed about my own love life.

“They’re coming here.”

I look at Jake in confusion, for just a second, as I quickly notice Ethan and the girl coming toward the staircase, which Jake and I are leaning against. The stairway that leads to dozens of rooms.

I don’t know if it’s the four beers I’ve had in the night that make me do this, or the thought of having yet another frustrating relationship, or maybe it’s the fucking smell of weed. I’m starting to think it’s possible to get high on smell alone.

“Kiss me.” I turn to Jake, raising my gaze.

He looks very surprised at the time and I see him swallow dryly as he looks at me. “What?”

“Just go, they’re coming.” I take a step towards him and Jake finally seems to understand why I am asking this.

I can hear a low “oh shit” against my lips before Jake runs his fingers through my hair and his other hand lightly holds my waist, he is still holding the beer bottle and the icy touch sends shivers through my body.

I hear footsteps behind me and that should be enough to stop me from running my fingers through Jake’s torso and moving closer to him, but it’s not.

It is Jake who stops the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away and his hand remains on my waist while the other goes down my arm. “I think they’re gone.” He speaks low.

“Yeah, sure.” I finally snap out of my trance and manage to pull myself away from Jake and try to ignore how much I miss his fingers on my skin. “Thank you.”

Jake gives me a sideways smile and runs his fingers over his mouth, “I’ll get you some more booze, do you want some?”

“No, thank you!” I smile at him. “For real now!” I laugh trying to improve the mood.

Jake smiles weakly and turns away heading towards the kitchen.

After a few minutes of trying to socialize with some friends, I decide to look Jake up and ask if we were going to leave together.

I think that tonight, I walked more than I have ever walked in my entire life. I went in the kitchen, up the stairs, to the bathrooms, in the front yard and all the way around twice more, but Jake was nowhere to be found and our friends were too drunk to answer my questions.

When Ethan bumps into me on one of my way down the stairs and offers me a ride, I give up looking for Jake.

*******

3 days, 1 week, 2 weeks…

Two weeks that I’ve barely seen Jake, even though we live in the same apartment.

It’s been two weeks since Jake hardly ever sleeps at home, two weeks since Ethan and I have been out every Thursday and Friday, two weeks since my routine has been to go to college, take more baths than necessary and spend more time in my room than is considered healthy, and two weeks since I can’t stop thinking about Jake.

And after we bumped into each other in the early morning hours earlier this week while arriving at the apartment at the same time, he coming home from a party and I coming home from a date with Ethan, everything got worse.

Now our good days and good nights are reduced to slight nods.

I lie in bed, frustrated, having cancel my date and thinking about what Jake does and where he goes when he leaves the house. Who he is with.

I finally hear the shower turn off and wait a few minutes to get up the courage to leave the room.

And when I do, it is at the same time that Jake comes out of the bathroom.

The sweatpants leave the bar of his underwear exposed, the towel he was using to dry his hair is thrown over his shoulder, and his long wet hair drips water all over his torso.

“I thought you’d left, sorry.” Jake breaks the silence and I look away from his body to his eyes.

I want to tell him that it’s okay, that it’s his apartment too, and I want to turn around and go back to my room, but the words come out before I can stop them.

“I think we need to talk.”

Jake sighs softly and fiddles with the towel nervously.

“I’m going to move.”

The words he says float around inside my mind and make no sense for a few seconds.

And suddenly all the guilt hits me, the guilt of asking him to kiss me, I feel guilt for all the times Jake cancelled his plans just so he could hold me in his arms when I would come back to him crying with a broken heart. I feel guilty for every prom he took me to and had to spend the whole night listening to me talk about other boys.

“If you need anything call me, I have to pack a few things.” Jake speaks low as he walks past me to go to his room.

And when he closes the door, I realize that I haven’t said anything. I haven’t done anything.

It’s as if my feet have a life of their own and in less than a second I am walking to his room. When I slam the door and lean my body against the wood, Jake looks at me in surprise.

When I look away from him, I see an open suitcase on the bed and his guitars already in their bags.

I go to the end of the bed and bend down to pick up the only guitar that is not already in its case, not knowing what I am doing I go to the wall full of posters so that I can hang the guitar back on its hook, where it should never have left.

Before I can get any closer to the wall, Jake reaches over and holds the guitar tightly, the sudden movement but causing my body to slam into his.

I try to pull the guitar back, like a tantruming child, but Jake grabs my wrist and moves closer to me.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” If we weren’t so close, I might not have even been able to hear his low voice.

“You don’t have to move, Jake.” I pull my face away just enough to look at him. “It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” I swallow dryly trying to keep talking. “I messed up.”

Jake lets go of my wrist and I let him pick up the guitar, he hesitates but with his free hand he puts a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Do you really think it’s your fault?” He asks and his voice becomes calm and low, and my heart squeezes with the longing I feel for him.

I whisper a “yes” as he shakes his head and walks away leaving his guitar leaning against the wall, then he sits on the end of the bed and runs his fingers through his wet hair.

“You just did what I asked.” I slowly move closer to him but we still don’t touch. “You were only helping me.”

Jake lifts his head to face me seriously, his expression is almost one of anger, but his eyes make it clear that this anger is not directed at me.

“You think so?” His hands creep up to his knee and he grabs the fabric of his pants as he lets out a wry laugh. “You think me getting hard with a fucking kiss of less than 15 seconds would be helping you, Y/N?”

I feel my blood rise up my cheeks and try to look away from him, but I can’t.

Jake lowers his head and runs his fingers through his hair, but soon he is back to staring at me as he speaks. “Do you think I was helping you when I kissed you while I thought of all the things I wanted to do to you? Do you think that just because you asked me to kiss you I had to go out and fuck the first girl so I wouldn’t go begging you to come home with me and we did all the things I’ve been thinking about for years?”

The words come out of his mouth quickly, for the first time I see Jake not having control of his actions.

I take a deep breath and speak the only sentence I can formulate. “But you don’t have to leave.”

Jake sighs and lowers his face again and brings one of his hands to his face, sighing once more. “You don’t understand.” His voice comes out muffled over his hand. “If I stay here one more day without touching you, I will go crazy.”

The reaction this has on my body is almost painful, especially when I have to force my legs against each other as a form of relief. I want to scream at him saying that he can touch me. That I wish he would touch me, but I can only whisper.

“So touch me.”