3 n 1 (Tracob)

🎵21🎵

The ceiling wasn't very interesting.

But when it was the only thing you could look at that didn't have something on it to remind you of something, it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

It's been a couple days.

Jacob hasn't been to work since the incident and was told by Alex that if he didn't come in by tomorrow he'd be fired. 

It was nearing two in the morning and all he was really worrying about was spilling the half empty bottle of whiskey on his carpet. 

Taking another swig, he drunkenly sets the bottle on the floor, hardly giving a shit anymore if it tips over.

He has other things to worry about; like the burning joint in his other hand. 

'Drinking away your problems isn't going to solve anything, Jacob!' Alex already lectured him about it. 

It may not help in the long run, but it was doing a pretty damn good job right now. 

Picking up his phone, he squints at the sudden brightness looking for the contact button. 

Pressing my favorites list, he calls Alex and waits for him to answer. 

"Jacob?" a tired voice says. 

"Hi, Alex," Jacob laughs. 

"Are you drunk?" 

"You're drunk." 

"Jacob, what did I tell you? Drinking isn't going to-" 

"Hey, I got a question." 

He sighs, "What?" 

"Do you think... do you- do you think that, um- I forgot," he laughs. 

"Jacob?" 

"Huh?" 

"Are you drunk or high?" 

"5'8." 

"So both, okay. I don't know if you'll remember me saying this or not after you wake up, but I love you. You're my best friend and I wouldn't still be talking to just anybody at two in the morning, okay?" 

"Hm." 

"Do you want me to come over right now? I know you're alone and I don't want you to be alone right now." 

Jacob lets out a burp and laugh, "Okay." 

"Gross. I'm on my way." 

🎵

Sobering up just a little by the time Alex got there, Jacob hears his bedroom door creak open and he looks over at the man. 

"Hey, man," Alex says quietly. 

Jacob sighs, "Hey." 

Watching the dark haired boy sit down on the edge of the bed makes Jacob realize how lonely he actually feels.

He didn't want just anyone to be there though.

He wants Troye.

His bottom lip begins to tremble slightly at the thought of not talking to Troye for who knows how much longer.

He feels tears prick at his eyes and he lets out a quiet sob, covering his mouth with his hand. 

"Shh... shh, Jacob, it's okay," Alex whispers, rubbing his back softly.

"Everything will be okay." 

"I fucked it all up, Alex," Jacob cries, letting out a muffled sob into his pillow.

"He was so perfect and happy. I fucked it all up." 

"Have you talked to him at all?" 

Jacob nods, "I text him the other night and explained what happened, but he never replied." 

Alex continues to rub his back, lying down next to him.

He begins crying harder—most of it being because of the whiskey—into Alex's neck as he pulls him into a hug comfortably, his body and heart just aching to be held by anyone willing. 

"Alex," he sniffles. 

"Yeah?" 

"Please don't let me go back down that path," he whispers.

"I've been craving them, but I don't want them. I want Troye and I don't want to do that to him or myself. Not again." 

"I won't let that happen. I promise. I'll help you through this without drugs or alcohol."