Gods & Monsters

XXVI

"I don't know what I'm gonna do."

The words feel heavy in Jacob's mouth, even after they've left the confines of his lips and teeth. He stares down at his untouched sandwich, firmly avoiding Dylan's intent gaze. Faintly, he smells the wafts of incense that cling to the boy's black t-shirt, mingled up with the fried butter and meats that hang in the air of the pub. A waitress buzzes past, holding a tray of frothy pints. The chatter of the mid-afternoon rush is gentle, a soft hum of cheery voices.

It's oddly really fucking annoying. So Jacob just keeps staring at his sandwich.

"Hm," Dylan nods, contemplative and serious as he stares at Jacob, fingers laced on the table. He's long since finished his meal—he's the fastest eater Jacob's ever met—and has now taken to inspecting Jacob with all the careful examination of one peering through a microscope at an unfound organism.

It makes Jacob feel exposed and jumbly so he picks a little at the crust on his plate, the muscles in his face tense and unmoving.

"Timothee's been upset lately," he mumbles calmly, eyes unblinking. Jacob shifts in his seat, tries to remain impassive. "I think he's looking for you."

"Actually, uh, yeah—yeah he found me," Jacob says, clearing his throat. "Awhile ago. He, uh... We had a chat. After work."

Softly, dylan's eyebrows pop up. "He went to the pub?"

Jacob nods, stiff.

Again, Dylan nods, mostly to himself. "Yeah... Yeah, I guess he did mention something like that in passing. Cool." A beat. "So are you good now?"

Jacob shakes his head. The sandwich is mocking him.

"Hm," Dylan hums again, his gaze settling somewhere distant. He blinks several short times, apparently assembling the words in his head before he glances back to Jacob , lips already parted. "You know, Jed's mum still doesn't know about him. Or me, obviously. It's a secret."

At that, Jacob lifts his head, surprise clear in his tone as he stares at Dylan. "Wait, really? Isn't he, like, three minutes away from proposing?" It's said with a gentle smirk, one that pushes past the dam of resistance now built in Jacob's face.

"Yeah, we're definitely soulmates," Dylan nods, very serious. His gaze is clear. "But his mum still doesn't know. She'd be a right state, he says. She needs time to warm up to the idea. Become immersed in the change."

Jacob can't help but smile a little bit at that. Dylan is always so unabashed, so serious, so mystical. It makes Jacob feel very human and ordinary. Which is sort of brilliant sometimes.

"Does she know you're friends?" he asks, genuinely curious despite the complete subject change.

Typically, he hates it when the conversation steers away from himself, especially if it's after he's gathered the gumption to actually bestow his concerns onto another. But since it's Dylan and since this matters, he flows along with the seemingly random topic, listening intently as he shoves away the plate of food—there's no hope for his appetite. It's a clear surrender.

"Yeah," Dylan says, eyes still boring into Louis. His lips are smooth as they move, no trace of question or caution. "I've met her a few times. She's nice. She has really cool jewelry."

Jacob snorts a laugh, rubbing at his tired eyes. He's exhausted, unable to sleep because his fucking brain is revolting against him, keeping him awake for countless hours always.

"She knows we're friends and she knows I'm from a good family so she likes me but she'd probably go mad if she knew about us."

"So what are you going to do?" Jacob asks, eyebrows pinching just slightly as he meets Dylan's eye, one hand tapping against the unpolished wood of the table, the other clenching a balled up napkin. "If you're 'soulmates' or whatever"—he gestures with the napkin hand, valiantly resisting a roll of the eyes—"then how are you going to manage inviting her to the wedding? Planning on sneaking around? Being the best mates who live together and just happen to adopt children? In a very platonic, masculine way? You know, as one does."