TITLE: Four wheels on the sand
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Jake 2.0
CHARACTERS: Jake, Kyle
PROMPT: 063. Summer
WORD COUNT: 1,244
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Two spies and a trip to the beach
NOTES: Because one of my clinical stems triggered this thought process and I’m just going to write it out of my system (and avoid my work)
Little Damn Table I don’t want to be here.
“So, uh, we could grab some ice cream or…build a sandcastle?”
“Whatever, Jake.”
The sun was annoyingly bright, forcing him to squint, and he could already feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.
“How about we visit the arcades? I could win you a bear.”
“I don’t want a bear.”
Jake was treating him like some kind of child. He didn’t want to be in the infuriating heat with Jake prattling on about sandcastles and bears. He wanted to be in an air-conditioned office, except that he didn’t have an office anymore…but he wasn’t thinking about that.
Like Hell he wasn’t.
“Well, we could…”
“Jake, I don’t care!”
They stopped short and Kyle refused to look up at Jake. He felt the chair rock slightly as Jake let go of the handles and stooped in front of him, eyes dark.
“Look, Kyle, this isn’t just your pain and it’s extremely selfish of you to keep it all to yourself. I brought you here for fun, but if you ‘don’t care’ then I guess I don’t either.”
He heard the disappointment behind the reprimand and he felt a prick of guilt, but his miserable bastard was out in force and wasn’t looking for retirement.
“Oh, is everything about you, Jake? You’re not the one sitting here, being useless, suddenly redundant. You’re not the one who has to get used to this…”
“No, but I’m living with you! And it hurts me, to see you like this.” Jake took his hand and he had to look up then, stare him full in the eyes and drink in the unwavering strength of emotion pouring out of his intense pupils. He swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Jake said evenly and stood up again, moving behind the chair and taking control.
“So, what are we going to do?”
“Ice cream sounds good,” Kyle said softly.
“Okay then, ice cream it is!”
~
When no one was looking, Jake lifted him out onto the blanket he’d brought. He was lucky Jake was around. In more ways than one.
“I never thanked you. For moving in.”
“Hey, your place is way nicer than mine - I jumped at the chance! We’ll have it all working in no time.”
He’d had no idea how much equipment he’d need just to live. Suddenly, all his cupboards could move up and down the walls and he had two sets of counters, one for his metahuman and one for him. And didn’t that sound like the setup for a sitcom? He would laugh if he wasn’t afraid it would only lead to tears.
He couldn’t lose control, not when Jake needed him to be strong. He was already miserable, depressed, and Jake was working so hard, to maintain his mood, to maintain some kind of income. Not that it mattered to him - the NSA had granted him a generous pension and Lou had slipped him a card that he suspected didn’t even have a credit limit.
Yet he knew Jake needed to work, and the NSA wouldn’t let him go without a fight. He was their invaluable resource, their investment, and they would hardly let him out of the building anymore. Not after one of their agents was attacked in their own front yard.
“Maybe we should get a cat.”
Kyle stared at him. “What?”
Jake stared back. “A cat. Small, furry thing, goes about on four legs.” He made little motions with his hands and Kyle couldn’t help but grin.
“Yes, Jake, I am familiar. But why do you want one?”
He shrugged. “Keep you company, keep you in line. Besides, I like cats.”
Jake leaned up on one arm, blocking the sun and giving himself a halo. Kyle swallowed down any references to angels and just smiled politely. It was too early, far too early, and with these new developments, it would be early for a long, long time.
He liked Jake. Against the ridiculous odds, Jake liked him too. There had been a date, two even, and one tentative kiss outside Jake’s apartment. Then a drug-smuggling eco-warrior had stabbed him in the back - quite literally - and that was that. The last thing on his mind was his fledgling romance, but Jake had been there constantly, reassuring, laughing, joking. At first, he’d tried to keep him away, not wanting to need anyone, but soon he realised that if you wanted that reliance, that security, maybe it was okay after all.
And oh how he craved Jake.
Not that Jake could know that. They were back to friendship - Jake may have been about to kiss him once, but he’d backed off, mumbling something about lines and taking advantage. Kyle had wanted to shake him then, but he didn’t want to threaten this…whatever that they were so fragilely maintaining.
“Damn.”
Kyle turned to inquire when a fat raindrop fell on his nose. “Ah.”
“Summer’s over already,” Jake sighed and discreetly moved him back to the wheelchair, before bundling the blanket and moving them back towards the car.
“Jake?”
“Yeah, Kyle?”
“It was a good trip.”
“…thanks.”
~
Kyle watched the rain trickling down the window and thought about death.
After the attack, when the doctors had told him he’d never walk again, that his career was over, he had felt a little like dying. If that knife has been just a little higher, nicked an artery, found his heart…he wouldn’t have to deal with this, see the pity in Diane’s eyes and the regrets in Lou’s.
The lost opportunities in Jake.
As time went on, the feeling receded and he found himself coping, dealing, and falling deeper and deeper in love with one Jake Foley.
This was dangerous territory, of course. This man had seen him at his most vulnerable and stayed; they had such a strong friendship built on trust and was he really willing to throw that all away on another ridiculously long set of odds?
He’d never been a gambling man.
“What you looking at?”
“The rain,” he said quietly and then turned to face Jake. And paused.
He’d changed into sweats and was casually towelling his wet hair, head on one side and an equally lopsided grin on his face. He was breathtaking.
“I love you,” he blurted and then recoiled in horror. What had he done? How could he be so careless? He was a spy, for goodness’ sake, had these few weeks of idleness weakened him so much?
Jake just stared open-mouthed with an indeterminable something flashing behind his eyes. He slowly set aside the towel and approached a couple of steps.
“Well, that was…unexpected,” he said, laughing nervously.
Sometimes the favourite stumbles.
“I’m sorry, Jake, just forget I said anything. We should…”
He might just get back up.
“But what if I don’t want to?”
Or he might stay down.
Kyle hesitated, meeting Jake’s eyes and seeing fire returned.
Sometimes the outsider picks up the pace.
“What if…I was waiting? For you, for you to be ready - I don’t want to hurt you, to make things more…complicated.”
He might find himself in the middle of the pack, a competitor.
“Whatever you want,” he found himself breathing and suddenly Jake was a whole lot closer.
He might even overtake the pack completely.
“This is what I want,” Jake said firmly, and kissed him.
Sometimes, against all odds, the outsider wins.