Chapter 17
One week.
One goddamn week, Felix reminded himself as he let his head thunk onto the library table. Then the semester ended, and life as Felix knew it ended as well.
It didn’t matter how many times Jacob assured him that nothing would change.
That they still had two years of college left, and even when they graduated, they’d still be best friends.
But Felix knew the truth. Hell, even if they did live together, things would change.
Because now Felix knew what it was like to have Jacob inside him.
He knew what it was like to get everything he wanted… almost.
His phone pinged. Felix grabbed it, eager for anything that would distract him from Jane Austen. She was a baller, but there was only so much old-timey speak he could take.
It was Shane. He’d attached a link to the apartment they had viewed last week—plus the lease. U sure u don’t wanna see it before u sign? The text read. They said u can come by next week before they need ur signature.
Felix looked at the apartment pictures again.
It was a shitty apartment, but there was no visible mold or cockroaches, which was a win in his book.
He would check the place out, but he was convinced that when he walked into his first ever apartment and reality set in—he really wasn’t living with Jacob—he would burst into tears.
No way was he about to let Nate and Shane see that.
Familiar footsteps thudded neatly toward him. Felix didn’t have to look to know who it was.
Jacob slid into a chair opposite him, dropping several textbooks onto the table. “Hey,” he said distractedly, scratching at a hickey Felix had left on him several days ago when they marked frottage off the list. “Still not finished yet?”
Felix picked up the copy of Persuasion from where it had been lying face down on the table. “I could be reading it again. Taking notes.”
Jacob gave him a skeptical look. Felix wanted to kiss the dent between his disbelieving brows.
Bastard. “I’m almost done,” he said defensively, opening it to the page he’d bookmarked.
With a fold, no matter how many times Jacob gave him actual bookmarks.
He fiddled with the folded corner, waiting. Sure enough, Jacob grimaced.
“I’ve given you at least five bookmarks for that thing,” Jacob said as he pulled a heavy textbook open. “The receipt from that bodega, my old class notes… what do you do with all of them?”
I put them in the trash so I can have this argument with you again, Felix thought wistfully. I love arguing with you. I love doing anything with you. Shit, I’d probably enjoy putting IKEA furniture together with you. It’d make you so mad you’d pin me to the floor at least a few times.
“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Felix said. “They just go walkies. You know how I am about losing things. Now pipe down, I’m trying to read.”
“Oh, you don’t want me distracting you?” Jacob snorted. “I totally believe that.”
“I am,” Felix said. He cleared his throat pompously and started reading from the first line he came across. “Ahem! If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am—”
“Alright,” Jacob said, surprisingly loudly.
Felix looked up, expecting to see Jacob glancing around to check if Hot Librarian was rounding the stacks to cuss them out.
But Jacob had his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a soul-splitting migraine. Which was weird, because for all Jacob’s complaining about Felix giving him headaches, he’d never had a migraine in his life.
“Dude,” Felix said, concerned. “Are you good?”
“Fine,” Jacob said. “I just…”
He trailed off in a mumble. It sounded a lot like I took psychic damage, which was impossible, partly because it made no sense and partly because Jacob didn’t use that kind of slang.
Jacob sighed loudly and opened his eyes to stare at his textbook. But before Felix could go back to Persuasion, Jacob slammed the textbook shut. “Why was Jack Smith being weird about you the other week?”
Felix let that marinate for a second. When it still didn’t make sense, he said, “Huh?”
“When I went to try the motorcycle,” Jacob said. “Alone.”
“I had something on!”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jacob rubbed the back of his neck, oddly bashful. “I don’t know. He was weird about you.”
I bet, Felix thought. Jack Smith was a worse liar than Felix thought. You’d think a guy with so much life experience could cobble together some feasible bullshit rather than avoiding the question altogether.
But Felix couldn’t say much. He still didn’t have an answer to what he was doing that day, other than ‘stuff.’ In truth, he’d been cleaning the toilet at David’s house when Jacob was having that motorcycle session, which Felix was sad about missing.
He could have rescheduled his cooking session, but honestly, Felix was still bitter about the whole Jacob situation.
Even though he was hiding it a lot better these days.
No more yelling or ignoring, just… not being so attached at the hip.
Not dropping everything to trail after his best friend.
Which was fine. Healthy, even! If only it didn’t feel like ripping out his own heart and stomping on it, every time.
The kicker was how bummed Jacob seemed about it.
Felix expected Jacob to be happy about not spending every minute of every day together.
But if anything, Jacob was getting clingier.
Clingy would be nice, if Felix wasn’t trying to put the last nail in the coffin of the whole ‘being in love with him’ thing.
Felix leaned further over his book, pretending to read. “Guess he’s a weird guy.”
“Stop—” Jacob looked around for Hot Librarian and lowered his voice. “Stop lying to me! What’s with you, dude? Just tell me things. Since when do you not tell me things?”
“I tell you things,” Felix said weakly.
“What’s going on with Jack? How did you burn your hand?”
“Okay, okay! Shut up before Hot Librarian chases us out with a pitchfork.” Felix twisted away from the study table, checking the stacks.
No hot librarian came charging out to shush them, his giant eyebrows knitted together with righteous anger.
For once, Felix actually wished he would.
It would be a great way to change the subject.
Instead he was stuck here, fiddling with the folded corner of his page until he came to a decision.
“I’ll tell you how I burned my hand,” Felix said. “And the Jack… thing. But not until the end of the semester.”
Jacob frowned. “Why? Is something happening?”
“Dinner,” Felix said, suddenly deciding. “At my new place.”
“Oh.” Jacob sat back. “You’re moving in with Shane and Nate, then.”
“Yep.”
“Oh,” Jacob repeated. Then, after several seconds of staring into space: “That’s great.”
“It is great,” Felix agreed, ignoring his heart thumping painfully in his chest. He was growing up. Putting some sensible distance between him and his childhood best friend.
Sure, Jacob didn’t want him. But he could still impress him with his new cooking skills. Hell, he could even clean up after. Prove that he was an actual adult, house-trained and everything. Jacob would be proud of him. Or at least not disappointed in him anymore. That would have to be enough.
“What’s that?” Jacob asked suddenly.
Felix looked down to where Jacob was pointing with a concerned expression. There was a smear of red icing on his hoodie. It did look a little like blood, Felix realized.
“Nothing,” Felix said, licking his finger and dabbing at it. “Had some cake before.”
This was true. He’d eaten a lot of cake that morning, thanks to a crash course in Jack’s kitchen in how to make red velvet cake.
The first try was awful, but the second was okay.
Much like cooking, Felix actually liked baking when he knew what the hell he was doing.
Unless it involved dough. Felix refused to make bread again after the previous week’s disastrous attempt.
“It’s not blood,” Felix insisted as he brought the hoodie to his mouth and sucked on the icing-stained fabric. “Quit looking at my hand like it’s gonna start peeling.”
“I’m not,” Jacob said, tearing his gaze away from Felix’s healing hand. “Have you been using the burn cream? It looks irritated.”
“It does not, it looks burned. Because it’s a burn. And it’s healing fine!”
“It’d heal better if you used the burn cream.”
“I do! I just don’t lather it on every second of every day like you want me to!”
“I don’t want you to ‘lather it on,’ I want you to use it like the directions—”
They both fell silent when Hot Librarian himself burst out of the stacks to glare at them. He had horn-rimmed glasses and a tight shirt and did not like jokes about being a porn parody of a librarian, no matter how many times Felix tried them.
“Sorry,” Jacob whispered.
“We’ll be quiet,” Felix agreed.
Hot Librarian glared harder. Felix almost swooned. Tall and frowny—he had a type.
“Every time you two come in, you cause a ruckus,” Hot Librarian said. “Cut it out or I’ll add you to the banned list.”
“There’s a banned list?” Jacob asked, appalled.
“Yes,” spat Hot Librarian with a frown that rivaled Jacob’s. “And if you keep this up, you’ll find yourself on it. Be quiet.”
“Yes, sir,” Felix muttered.
He waited until Hot Librarian—who still refused to tell them his name after two years—vanished back into the stacks. Then he turned back to Jacob.
“Dude, that was so hot,” he whispered. “Want to go make out?”
Jacob narrowed his eyes at him. Trying to tell if he was joking.
“I’m serious,” Felix said, heart racing. “We’re almost out of time to finish the list.”
Jacob sat up, the tips of his ears flushing adorably red. “We are finished. Right?”
Felix shook his head. Then, before he could lose his nerve (or his half-chub), he took Jacob’s hand and curled it into a fist.
Jacob’s eyes widened. His knuckle twitched under Felix’s grip, like he was thinking about uncurling his fingers but couldn’t bring himself to do it all the way.
“You said you didn’t want to,” Jacob said.
Felix shrugged. He was doing his best to look carefree and impish, the kind of guy who got so turned on by a sexy librarian yelling at them he had to go get fisted about it.
Unfortunately, that was only a small part of his decision.
Mostly, he wanted to see Jacob’s reaction.
He wanted to be in bed with him one more time.
Hell, he even wanted Jacob’s hand in him, the big, veiny bastard.
He stroked Jacob’s wrist, arousal curling through him as he imagined his hole fluttering around it.
Jacob leaned in. For a longing-drenched second, Felix thought he might kiss him. Then he realized Jacob was just trying to be quiet.
“I thought you said it was too intimate,” Jacob said, hushed.
Felix rolled his eyes and tried not to look like he was panicking. “If you can’t be intimate with your best friend, who can you be intimate with?”
Jacob’s expression changed, suddenly seeming both confused and hopeful.
“You’re sure?” Jacob asked quietly. “We don’t have to.”
“Oh, we don’t? Wow. Wish I knew that.” Felix headbutted him in the shoulder like they were kids and everything could be solved with a wrestling match. “I know, dude. I’ll tap out if it’s too weird. Now come on, let’s go to my dorm and lube up those hands.”
“One hand,” Jacob said instantly. “Felix? We’re only doing one. You know that, right?”
“Quitter,” Felix replied.