All Bark, No Bite [Jacob & Edward]

17

When Jacob wakes up, he feels like he's starving. There is the light waft of food still lingering in the air and he can audibly hear the low growl of his stomach. The sound of his stomach's protest is followed by a low chuckle. In previous months, the sound would have made him whip around so fast he got whiplash, but all he can do in his sluggish state is peek over his shoulder to see Edward propped in an armchair across from him.

"Feeling better?" His voice is almost a whisper as he slowly pushes himself up from his seat to get to Jacob.

Jacob lets out a low hum, slowly pushing himself up from the couch and turning so he's facing Edward who's now perched up on the arm of it. Edward watches as Jacob stretches and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He waits to speak 'til after Jacob's done cursing the 'obscenely long sleeves' on Edward's shirt that he was donning.

"There's steak and mashed potatoes in the oven." Even as Edward's speaking, he's pushing himself up to go get the food for Jacob. Never in Jacob's wildest nightmares did he think he'd ever be grateful to have Edward running around doing simple things like warming him something to eat. Sure, the baby was getting heavier, but it wasn't something he couldn't handle if absolutely necessary. He could cook and fix his own food.

Though, he couldn't ignore the warm feeling he got in his chest and the way he...yearned to be taken care of. As much as he fought against it, he couldn't help but appreciate it. It was just as new as everything physically happening to him. When he saw Edward tentatively taking hoards of food that he'd fixed solely for Jacob out of the oven, and sees the way he'd carefully put it away so that Jacob could eat later, and the way he took it out and prepared it for the oven because "I don't want it to be cold in the middle" it did something to him, okay?

Apparently, he wasn't the only one feeling the effects of it, his wolf nestling and curling up further with a light huff of air. Completely at ease.

"We'll take it upstairs." Edward hums, coming over to help Jacob up from the couch. He doesn't need the assistance, but he sticks his hands out anyway and allows himself to be gently tugged into a standing position.

Jacob can't help but feel a strong case of deju vu as he stares into his potatoes, but he tries not to think about the mess of a night as the strong smell of lemon hits him square in the face.

He eats the potatoes like he's starving, nonetheless, and Edward just watches silently until he finds his opening.

"I'm going to need to leave for a day or two," he says it slowly, like he's explaining something to a child, "I need to go out on a hunt."

Jacob freezes, staring down at his steak and getting more than slightly annoyed as his appetite is completely decimated by the declaration.

Jacob should've seen this coming. Edward has needs of his own to attend to. Still, for the first time in a while, he feels his wolf become noticeably uncomfortable. He hasn't had to deal with the mess by himself. He reluctantly looks over at Edward only to find his eyes as dark Jacob's ever seen them. Right, there is no negotiating here.

"Right." He tries to be nonchalant in his response, but it'd taken him way too long to answer and what he had said wasn't exactly dripping with enthusiasm.

"It's a necessary trip. I will try not to venture out too far." He's rubbing a hand over Jacob's thigh.

It's doing absolutely nothing to calm his nerves, but he commends him for trying.

"Everyone has returned. They are currently outside working on precautionary measures, but they will be here while I'm away to keep you safe." He must have seen the uncertainty, discomfort in Jacob's eyes. Though, a security detail isn't exactly what he wants. Most of his sedentary behavior was because Edward kept him grounded. He relaxed Jacob when he was stressed out. Those were very important things he provided. Jacob's not even sure how he's providing them. Maybe it's the imprinting, maybe it's magic, or maybe Jacob's losing his mind and is imagining everything. Either way, the thought of even two days without it was making him feel queasy.