Every day, like clock work, the same question was presented to him and every day the same answer was given in return. Every day, except for today …
“Welcome, what can I get for you today?”
Jacob stared, light browns confused beyond recognition as he found not the usual brunette behind the counter … but a blonde. The blackhead shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and admittedly bit at his lip as if he was unsure of how to answer the question presented him. It was never the question he was asked, and had not been the question he’d been asked in nearly three years. Not since he’d come the first time, and the brown eyed brunette that usually took his order said it once, and never again. Not since a short male with curly hair took it upon himself to tease him every chance he got and admittedly it was something the cop had gotten used to. “A large coffee with cream please …” The words fell from his lips almost regretful for they were not the usual ones to first fall from his tongue.
‘Jakey, are you going to get my favorite today?’
‘Do I ever get your favorite?’
‘Well, you could just buy me my favorite sometime.’
‘Get one of your boyfriends to come buy it for you.’
‘But I’d rather you buy me my Latte. Jaaaakkkeeee~’
Jacob handed the card over almost mechanically, brows knitting finally in a mix of frustration and worry. He was a tall guy, 6’3”, and built strong with large shoulders; short, messy, black hair and an almost ever present serious tone about him. At least when he was anywhere but here, for as soon as he walked into the doors he usually turned into a playful sour puss. Why? Liam. He was a shorter kid, 5’8”, with big brown eyes and short, curly, auburn hair. He was younger as well, about two years for the kid was 26; that was always something he would tease him about every time age came up. Liam had a devilish personality and always flirted with everyone that walked into the door, but it was different when he came in. Somehow the little quips that the brunette would pop out were carefully thought out, as if he meant them vs his usual playful manner. Somehow it was …
Nah, that wasn’t likely. He never meant things like that.
“Thanks.” The 28 year old took the cup he was offered and started to turn, eyes looking around the counter in a mildly worried fashion. Finally he cleared his throat and piped up, “Um, is Liam not here today?” He had an unsettled feeling in his gut, and usually when he had that kind of feeling it wasn’t because of something good. He usually got that feeling at work, and he was an SVU detective. He really didn’t like this feeling.
“Oh, no. He called this morning and said he wasn’t feeling too good.” The blonde behind the counter smiled brightly, “I hope he’s okay. He sounded weird.”
No. He didn’t want this feeling to be there, especially because of the who it was about. A chill settled over his bones and he cleared his throat, forcing whatever lump had risen within it down. “Uh …” Jacob started and paused to fish his badge out of his pocket and hold it up as reassurance, “Would there be a reason he wouldn’t be okay, or …?” Somehow the question caused the woman to pause and bite her lip, as if she were debating if she should say anything or not.
“Well, it’s just … he’s been seeing this guy lately. The guy came by last night before we closed and they got into a bit of an argument. He’s not exactly …” She paused, biting at her lip a bit more, “He’s not a very good guy for him to be around, if you get what I’m saying?” Her eyes wandered over almost expectantly, like she were trying to ease something into the conversation. She was looking, almost as if she were begging for him to go check on the younger male.
The feeling came over and it settled into him again. Jacob watched, understanding the look he’d been given because he’d seen it before. A worried friend, a scared Mother … it was always the same look. The look that said ‘They put their hands on them.’ It was the kind of fucking look that made his job so fucking bountiful, and so fucking hard all at once. It was a look that terrified him, and pissed him off all in one go, for he saw so much of it at work and wanted to kill the bastards. However seeing that look, now, about Liam … it was worse. “I’ll go by and check on him, alright?” He forced out a bright smile, trying to reassure the woman and it thankfully worked. He’d been to Liam’s before twice, both completely normal run of the mill dinner parties he’d been invited to.
The two of them weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t quite strangers either. They were stuck in that awkward close acquaintance stage, and it was one that drove the blackhead crazy. They’d gone out for drinks to shoot the breeze once or twice, and he’d been forced to watch the bakery worker get tugged home by someone else every time. Ha, forced was a silly thing to say for it wasn’t as if the brunette had made him watch it happen. Just like Liam hadn’t done anything to stop him from stopping it. It was just …
Jacob gave a small wave and headed out the door, tugging his phone from his pocket so he could check his email as he walked. It was Friday, and he’d put in for a long weekend this weekend. Today was supposed to be a day of seeing a new Godzilla movie, and then going home to the comfort of lounge pants, pizza, and a new video game he’d picked up. Today was not supposed to be about him arresting someone off the clock … because if he saw something fishy he wouldn’t skip a beat. He didn’t care. It was something he’d have done with anyone, but in this case … “Shit.” What kind of a mess was he walking into anyhow? It wasn’t as if he really had business sticking his nose into it, they were ‘friends’ and he used the term loosely.
Used it loosely because it always grated at his last nerve.
Friends. Liam said they were friends all the time, and yet the guy’s voice still would change when he addressed his ‘friend’. The brunette would tease him, and pout when he didn’t take him up on his advances. The kid would reach out and touch, shit he’d always been touchy when he thought of it. A slight passing of fingers over his own, or the other’s arm using him as support when they were out. Even in the middle of those dinner parties he’d said one thing, joking about the cop leaving if he was bored, and unconsciously reached out to tug at his shirt. It had been as if the kid were saying ‘Stay, please?’ Liam’s hands had always been … honest. That guy could lie through his teeth and you’d be none the wiser, but his hands? They were the only part of him that was honest.
Jake tugged the coffee to his lips, and instantly made a face. The beans had been slightly burned, and there wasn’t enough creamer mixed in. Liam always … He sighed and forced another drink of the liquid down for he was being picky. Liam always knew how he liked his coffee, yes, but Liam hadn’t been there today. “Shit, am I that spoiled by that little demon?” The raven took a corner, aiming himself towards a townhome complex the next street over. He was mulling over the idea of it, and finally came to the realization that yes as far as his morning coffee and possible slice of pie, or pastry, he was indeed spoiled by Liam. The kid always mixed his coffee correctly, and it was always from a fresh pot that had not been over brewed. Never too strong, or to weak, and whatever pastry he got was always warmed if it typically should be served as such.
Jacob bit at his lip a moment in mild frustration: had he ever noticed that before? Much less had he ever said thank you for the kid remembering how he liked his coffee from one bloody order. No … he was certain he had not. Crap it looked like he owed the guy an apology as well as a check in.
The detective took in a breath, finally stopping in front of a red door to small townhome midway down the street. He took up the stairs to the stoop and reached out to rap his knuckle on the door lightly. It was quiet for a moment and then there was rustling on the other side and the entry was opened, chain lock still attached, so the owner could peep out. That alone caused the male on the stoop to shift on his feet uncomfortably; Liam wasn’t shy, and he was acting like he didn’t want to deal with anyone. Red flag, and he didn’t like it a fucking bit. “Yo.” Jake smiled, waving lightly.
The caramels peered out and grew in surprise before the male inside swallowed sharply and cleared his throat a few times. “J-Jacob?” His voice was meek, almost raspy as if he’d developed a sore throat overnight or a slight cold. “What … ? What are you?” He winced, voice starting to fade off as if it hurt to speak. He still had not opened the door completely, content with keeping the chain in place. He noticed the brown hues watching him narrow suspiciously and all at once a chill seemed to fall over him. Liam smiled, as if realizing he was acting strangely and corrected it at once. He cleared his throat, swallowed, and then tried to force his usual cheer into his words, “H-hey. At this rate, I’m going to think you’re going to take me up on my offer for coffee. Shouldn’t you be at work?” He smiled, voice barely wavering as a line of frustration overtook his brow. It hurt to talk damn it.
He didn’t buy it. The detective’s brows furrowed and his gaze narrowed a bit more. Something was up, and he was acting extremely out of character. “Liam.” His voice was harsh, almost as if he was scolding the slighter male inside. “Did something happen?” Somehow it sounded less like a question and more like a demand.
Liam picked up on this for he wrinkled his nose in frustration, “Dorothy opened her damn mouth, didn’t she?”
“If that’s the blonde: maybe. I’m not privy to tell informant information.” Jacob sipped his coffee almost unamused at the glare he’d been given. “Let me in, maybe? It’s fucking cold.”
The thought seemed to linger, as if Liam were weighing the pros and cons of such a thing. Finally he sighed in frustration, “Nope.” Without hesitating he slammed the door and the sound of the deadbolt being put on clicked.
Jacob hissed out before lifting his empty hand and pounding it against the woodwork, “Listen kid, you can either open the fucking door or I will break it down!”
“You don’t have a fucking warrant for searching anything!” Liam spat back through the door before breaking into a coughing fit.
Jacob hissed before backing up a bit and ramming the door lightly, making it known that the next time he hit it the damned thing would fly open. Apparently the message was received for within a few moments he heard the locks being turned and the chain lock sliding as well. What he was met with was a still coughing, very annoyed looking brunette. … With a black eye. The world spun a moment and in two seconds flat the detective had shoved past and into the townhome, “The fuck is he?”
“Jake!” Liam spat, catching himself on the door and slammed it. “Jacob!” He was trying to speak up, the more he yelled the more he coughed. It fucking hurt to talk. He was ignored for the blackhead started to wander off, apparently meaning to search the damned place. Liam hissed out and reached over to catch him by the arm, “D-Damnit, Jacob! Listen!” He winced, forcing the words out in a yell.
Jacob’s eyes yanked around, switching from fury to mild concern. Shit all he had was coffee … Either way he handed it over as if it were water, “Drink something.” He started looking the brunette over then, as if checking him for anything else that could be wrong. What he saw were burn marks, probably ropes, on the wrist near the hand holding him in place. “Fucking shit, Liam. Where is he?” He was going to kill the son of a bitch if he put eyes on him.
Liam winced, but took the coffee nonetheless and drank some down. Instantly he made a face, “Shit, she gave you that to drink? Fuck.” It tasted terrible. He ignored the older male, tugging on his arm to follow after him into the kitchen. There was coffee, good coffee, in the other room and be damned if this cop was going to drink shit coffee. “He’s not here, so drop it.” The words finally fell out, almost cold, “It wasn’t his fault so drop it.”
The browns watched, confused and almost shocked from how he’d been answered. So much he’d let himself get drug along into the next room without mustering up the words to answer. It wasn’t the guys fault? What the fuck? Another wave of anger roared up and he ended up catching Liam by the arm, yanking him back around to face him. What he was met with was a pained, almost fearful, expression and it caused the agitation to slip from his eyes lightly. “Do you remember what I do?”
The caramels had fallen to the ground, not daring to look at the pair boring into him. “Jake don’t do this now …” He cleared his throat, biting at his lip.
“Do you know how many fucking times I see shit like this, and you’re going to sit there and say it’s not his fault? Are you kidding me?” Jacob hissed, glaring and admittedly tightening his grip on the other’s arm. “He is the one that put his hands on you. He is the one that hit you, and apparently tried to choke the shit out of you from the sound of your voice. Have you looked at the bruising on your throat!?” Fucking shit he was getting worked up. It was like he’d stumbled into a case at work, only worse because it was Liam. “The fuck are the rope burns from!?”
Liam winced, visibly shrinking the more words came flying, “He’s into rough stuff, so the rope burns weren’t from him getting pissed …” The words were meek, eyes still not daring to leave the ground. “The other stuff … it’s not his fault that he got pissed. He got pissed, and maybe hurt, and he acted out. It’s not his fault.” He was repeating it, almost as if saying it would make it true. It wasn’t the guy’s fault, but the way he reacted was and he knew it … shit. “You’d have done th-!”
“No fucking way in hell.” Jacob spat, pissed off now, “There is no fucking way in hell I would lay a hand on you like that, pissed off or not.” The caramels had yanked around to look at him, large and glassy. Shit, now he’d made Liam go and tear the fuck up. Jacob winced, brows pressing together in a hard line before a frown painted itself over his lips. “Why?” He wanted to know why, even if it didn’t matter; there wasn’t a fucking excuse for that kind of shit.
Liam swallowed, gaze averting again and he started to tug on his arm in an attempt to free it. “Jake, please … just let me get you coffee?” He’d looked over to the pot that was half filled, voice cracking finally, “I didn’t get to get you coffee today.”
“Why.”
Liam winced, not daring to look back at the eyes watching him intently. Fucking shit, this asshole wasn’t letting it go was he? “We were doing it, and …” He paused, biting at his lip whilst still watching the coffee, “I said your name. He got pissed off because I said your name, asshole.” The brunette froze, feeling the grip on his arm loosen … he knew it. He fucking knew it was going to happen, and that’s why he’d been so adamant not to say it. “It wasn’t his fault. If I ha-!”
“No, it’s my fault.”
The caramels widened and his head was reeling around in confusion to look at the detective. “What the fuck are you talking about? You had nothing to …” He voice caught for within a moment the darker browns had yanked up and started boring into his own. So much a chill slipped down over his spine and caused the rest of his body to tingle. No. No, no, no. Don’t look at him like that. “Jake …”
Jacob took a deep breath, “If I had just …” He winced a bit for a hand had been smacked over his lips immediately, as if he were speaking something dirty. He stared, confused before reaching up with his free hand to tug at the digits in place.
Liam glared, “Shut up.” He earned a harsh look in response and shook it off, continuing, “Jake …” He froze a moment, swallowing as if he were scared to speak the next words. “ … Are you going to get my favorite today?”
Jacob froze, eyes growing considerably as if he had been smacked in the face. He tugged the fingers down a bit, making room for his lips to move so he could speak. He took a breath before letting an airy one out, “Do I ever get your favorite?”
Liam smiled, pulling his hand back finally so he could tilt his head, “Well, you could just buy me my favorite some time.”
Jacob went quiet a moment, brows furrowing all over again. He knew what came next - what always came next in this banter of theirs. He felt his heart clench a bit, fingers tightening once more on the arm they’d been clinging too. No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t want anyone else to buy him his favorite. He didn’t want anyone else even ordering this idiots favorite again. Shit, he couldn’t make his mouth move and say what he alway did. “I want a Vanilla Latte.” The darker browns had locked on the large eyes staring back, watching them particularly. What was he doing to do? What was he going to say? Why the fuck had he not just said it before?
Liam bit at his lip a moment, caramels finally overflowing from the words that hit the air. Instead of speaking he’d latched the hand once covering the other’s mouth around Jacob’s neck, and yanked him forward. Yanked those lips right into his own and nearly melted into them. They tasted like that bitter coffee, but he filled up with so much sweetness he thought he would overflow. Before he could manage to move there were fingertips tugging over his skin, causing another chill to run the course of his spine. Shit those hands were so tender he felt his heart stop. The fingers that had been on his arm moved as well, shifted around to his lower back and yanked him forward.
Jacob ended up clinging, holding onto the smaller man now in his arms, as if he were going to vanish. Why had he not just said it sooner? He broke the kiss, pausing to lean his forehead against the one hidden behind brown curls, and frowned. “I’m still going to kick his ass.” Jake huffed out, placing a kiss on Liam’s nose affectionately. “He touched you, and in the worst way. It’s not alright.” Shit, now that he thought it over he’d touched Liam in many ways, probably more than once at that. … That unsettled him, and made his eyes narrow a bit and lips wander to trail along the other’s jaw. The hand on the other’s waist wandered, and he ended up hooking a finger in the male’s jeans. Liam was covered in that shitstain’s touch.
“Jacob, you a-mmm.” Here he’d been ready to scold him and this shitty detective had gone and started doing something like that. The lips had gone from his jawline to his neck and dear God he felt like he was going to faint. All the air in his lungs had caught and his blood had started averting itself to his groin as soon as those fingers latched on his jeans. Another shiver, and then he’d pressed into the body in front of him roughly, “You need to go to work.” This idiot needed to go to work and he needed to stop thinking something vulgar.
“Weekend off.” The detective muttered, more preoccupied than he’d been before. He’d found the nape of the other’s neck and settled in to tug his teeth across it. The airy noise he received in response fueled the fire and forced his hands to grip a the brunette’s hips. “He touched you. Everywhere. It’s not alright.” It was as if he were trying to justify his behavior, and he knew it was stupid. Either way he received a muffled moan in response to his hips pressing into the other pair. Either way it made him swallow before reaching down and grabbing at his companion’s thighs. He hoisted Liam up onto his own hips, supporting his weight with his arms. “I’ll be taking my Latte now.”
Liam squirmed, face as red as a tomato, before he tugged his arms around the detective’s neck and lowered his lips until they were hovering just above the other pair. His eyes narrowed a bit, thinking over the words before biting at his lip and smirking, “Guess you better learn to like sweet then …” He hadn’t been given the chance for another word to leave his lips because Jacob preoccupied them with his own. That was his answer; his needy, gut churning, answer that spilled into his toes. The baker’s fingers tugged into the shorter black locks, deepening the kiss.
Shit, he’d have to get used to black coffee.
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