3 n 1 (Tracob)

🎵24🎵

Troye sat on his couch, with his arms crossed, looking down at the coffee table in front of him.

Jacob sat on the opposite end of the couch from him as they both sat in awkward silence.

Troye was annoyed more than anything at the moment.

Why?

He doesn't know.

He knows he shouldn't be because of what Alex had told him, but he was still being an immature brat toward Jacob.

He sighs quietly to himself, rolling his eyes at his childish behavior.

"Jacob-" "Troye-"

The two look at each other and laugh before losing eye contact, once again falling into an awkward silence.

From the corner of his eye, Troye watches Jacob scratch the back of his neck and shift his body slightly so that he was facing the blond, "I'm sorry."

Troye shakes his head, "It's not your fault. I'm just being a brat."

"What do you mean?"

The younger sighs, looking at the older boy next to him, "Alex came over earlier and told me what happened. I shouldn't be pouting, but I am, and I don't know why."

"You have every right to pout," Jacob says quietly.

He moves closer to Troye, "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," the boy whispers. Leaving the words hanging in the air, Jacob hesitantly places his hand on Troye's thigh comfortably with a soft whisper, "I missed my baby boy."

Wiping his cheek free of the stray tear, Jacob wraps his arm around Troye's shoulders, "Don't cry, Troye. Please."

"I'm sorry," he chuckles.

Jacob kisses his temple and allows the boy to fall into his embrace, wrapping his arm around the elder's torso.

Jacob engulfs him into a tight hug and pulls him closer.

Happy to be back in his arms, Troye lies limply against his chest, his eyes shut gently as he listens to his heartbeat and thinks to himself about how much of a cliché scene this was.

Hearing a door creak open slightly, Troye opens his eyes a little bit to see Bailey slowly walking out of the room and into the kitchen.

The blond smiles and shuts his eyes again as Jacob rubs his back.

Hearing a tiny huff from the kitchen before hearing a scraping sound against the tiled floor, the boy's look at each other and chuckle.

"Bailey?" Troye calls.

It's silent for a minute before a tiny voice calls back, "What, Daddy?"

Reluctantly, he lets go of the man next to him and walks into the kitchen.

He sees Bailey standing on the counter with a chair clearly used as a ladder, attempting to reach the top cabinet where the cookies are.

The little girl and her dad stare amusedly at each other as Troye feels Jacob quietly walk up behind him.

"How's it going in here?" Troye asks.

"Good..." Bailey trails off quietly.

"Think you should be doing that?" the blond asks, holding back a smile.

She shrugs, "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Can I's have a cookie?"

"Maybe in a little while when you're not standing on the counter."

"Jakie?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I's have a cookie?"

"Sure."

"Dude," Troye laughs.

"It's the eyes! I'm sorry!" he defends.

Troye rolls his eyes before walking over and helping the little girl get a cookie and sending her to the living room.

Troye walks back over to the elder and wraps his arms around his torso, lying his head against his chest.