Chapter Text
It was noon when the silence stopped feeling peaceful, and instead started pressing deep into his skull. By three, it had become heavier. And by four, it felt like the walls of his apartment were slowly closing in.
Jake tried to keep snug, sunk into the corner of his couch with a blanket up to his chin, as he searched for something to watch on Netflix. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much on there that he hadn’t already seen.
He’d been awake for six hours, not including any naps he had taken, and all he had eaten was a stale protein bar he had found in the back of the cabinet.
He should go out. He knew he should. He stared at the ceiling. Sunlight, fresh air, it would all do good for him right now, maybe even some human interaction.
Things that were apparently good for you when your brain was slowly melting, and things that also seemed extremely unappealing to Jake right now.
His stomach growled painfully. He could really go for some wings right now. Honey barbecue… Parmesan garlic.. he found himself salivating at the thought. He grabbed his phone, and like the productive member of society he was, opened DoorDash.
Twenty minutes later, the door bell rang. He unlocked the door and was only able to open it ajar before he felt his body flush hot.
The delivery guy stood there, holding a greasy paper bag and drink tray. He was slightly shorter than Jake, brown hair framing his face, curled damp at his temples. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, strong and dusted with faint hair. Jake’s eyes couldn’t help but drink up the sight.
Which was ridiculous. Right? Who even checked their DoorDash driver out?
Apparently Jake. At four in the afternoon, with bed hair and wearing sweatpants in bare feet.
“Hey,” the guy said after a moment, his brows lifting slightly. “Buffalo Wild Wings?”
Heat climbed his neck so fast it hurt. “Yeah. Yep, those are mine,” Jake took a deep breath. “Ha.”
The guy’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile and handed the bag over. “Enjoy your food.”
Their fingers brushed briefly during the exchange, which his nervous system shouldn’t have registered, yet it absolutely did.
“Cool,” he said with intelligence. Christ, nearly three decades on earth and he still didn’t know how to function when speaking to a cute guy.
The guy then passed him his drink. Up close, Jake noticed his eyes were stupidly pretty, too. Warm brown and syrupy. He was so unreasonably handsome it frustrated him. Because when Jake looked down on himself, at the clothes he’d been wearing for three days now, he realised unprepared for this situation he was.
When he looked back up the guy was already starting to turn away. He panicked suddenly. “Wait, hold on!”
Before the guy could respond, Jake dropped the food onto a nearby surface and fled back into his apartment.
He hurried back slightly out of breath and with his wallet as his trembling fingers fished for some cash. “Sorry,” Jake panted, holding out the bill. “I didn’t tip enough on the app.”
The guy glanced at the cash then back at Jake with a slightly confused look. “Uhh, thanks.. dude.”
Jake’s mind eventually caught up, realising he gave the man a feeble dollar. Now he was internally screaming at himself. “Wait, oh shit, I’m sorry, I meant to give you more, I…” he riffled through his wallet desperately.
The guy just laughed, infectious and beyond stupid. Jake felt it in his stomach. He grabbed a twenty and didn’t think twice before shoving it towards the delivery guy.
“You don’t have to do that,” the guy said with surprise.
“I know, just.. take it. Please.”
He finally took the cash, shaking his head a little. “Alright. Thanks a lot, man,” He smiled and stepped backwards into the hallway. “Have a good night.”
He left. Jake closed the door carefully. Then immediately sunk against it.
“Oh my God,” he groaned. His throat felt constricted. What the hell had that been?
He stayed there for what felt like an eternity. His pulse still annoyingly uneven. All because he was freaking out over a guy.
Not even freaking out. He’d practically malfunctioned and shut down in the doorway like some… creep. All because of a random guy.
This was just… he… his brain was clearly just trying to cope with the isolation or boredom or whatever happened when someone spent the whole week inside. That had to be it.
The couch dipped beneath him as he tried to force his attention elsewhere. Food. God, he almost forgot how hungry he actually was. He took a bite. Absolutely delicious. And for those blessed few seconds, that’s all he could think about.
Then his thoughts betrayed him, again. Probably the hundredth time that week.
Jake stared blankly at the TV while chewing. Could it be that he…
Nope. No. He’s only ever dated women. Celebrity crushes? Women. Posters as a teenager? Women. Entirely normal heterosexual behaviour. Yet now he was faced with this predicament. Replaying every moment of speaking to a stupid guy. Stupid. So stupid.
He licked the sauce from his thumb. Maybe he had gone crazy. Snapped from a lack of human interaction. That seemed medically possible.
By the time Jake reached for his drink, he’d managed to convince himself that he was just being dramatic. He took a long slurp then grabbed his phone.
How was your delivery? Rate your experience to help us improve.
Christ. Okay. His thumb hovered over five stars. The guy deserved it for surviving whatever the hell that whole thing had been.
Yet he hesitated before submitting. Did rating someone five stars look a little.. eager? He’s done it hundreds of times, but this time, it felt different.
He knocked it down to four stars. Yep. Real smooth. Then he wrote a short positive comment and submitted the rating.
The app refreshed, and underneath the completed order was the driver’s name.
Jake stared at it. “Albert Aretz... huh.”
That was… a very searchable name.
He opened Google.
This was normal. People looked people up all the time. It wasn’t weird. Social media literally existed to be looked at. It’s not stalking or anything. He typed in the guy’s name, clicked a few links, and eventually stumbled onto Albert’s public Instagram.
The profile picture was Albert leaning against a railing somewhere outdoors, maybe on some trail.
Jake scrolled through his account. There were random memes, gym selfies, photos with friends. He looked so, how could he say it? Like the kind of person who didn’t over think things, someone who lived comfortably.
He scrolled further then stopped abruptly. There was a photo of Albert stood in front of a mirror, shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, one hand holding his phone while the other showed off his muscles. Something Jake absolutely did not need to see, but unfortunately did.
He failed to look away for a solid twenty seconds before locking his phone and throwing it face down onto the couch.
His face felt warm again. “This is bad,” he informed the empty apartment. “Oh no.”
He slowly picked the phone back up, opened Instagram again, and came across another shirtless picture. His head dropped back against the couch cushion, and he let out a suffering, deep, guttural groan.
When Jake woke up the next morning, he was already thinking about Albert, still feeling pathetuc. It wasn’t even in a fun way, just a deeply humiliating love sick teenager type of way.
He stared at the ceiling with one arm over his face. Albert Aretz. Even the name sounded unfairly attractive.
This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, he had a job and paid taxes. He should not be lying in bed replaying their interaction like it was his first crush.
His phone rested beside him. Jake reached for it. Christ, 10AM. He really overslept. He checked instagram. Albert had posted to his story an hour ago, just a photo of his steering wheel, captioned: hot as balls today
Jake snorted. Then he made the mistake of imagining Albert all hot and sweaty, sleeves pushed up with glistening skin and…
He dropped the phone onto his chest. This was becoming an issue.
After bed rotting for another hour or so, he managed to shower, change his clothes, and somewhat clean his apartment for the first time all week.
It’s not like he was expecting company or anything, obviously. But hypothetically, if someone attractive did happen to stand in his doorway again, Jake didn’t want his apartment to look like some birds nest.
Eventually, he circled back to his bed and opened DoorDash, mind still reeling. He was not ordering food just to maybe see a guy again. Human beings did not do that.
He then reordered the exact same meal as yesterday; after a long wait, he finally got the message he’d been anticipating.
Albert Aretz is delivering your order.
Jake jolted upright. No way. No actual way. His stomach filled with butterflies.
Okay, calm down. This was fine. He could handle this normally.
He hurried to the mirror and immediately regretted looking. His hair refused to cooperate, and he became painfully aware of bad he currently looked. He tried to fix it before Albert came, but after a measly five minutes there was already a knocking at his door.
“Coming!” he called, his voice cracked violently on the first syllable. He opened the door and suddenly forgot every single line he'd rehearsed in his head.
Albert stood there in a grey t-shirt, darkened slightly from sweat around the collar, with sunglasses rested in his hair. The heat outside had made his face ruddy, slightly sun kissed, and incredibly attractive.
“Hey,” Albert greeted, recognising him instantly.
“Hi.”
He smiled a little, holding up the bag. “You again?”
Jake found himself watching the way Albert’s arms flexed under the sun rather than listening to anything he was saying. It took him a moment to regain his senses, but when he did, he felt slightly disoriented. “What?”
“The wings,” Albert laughed softly. “Same order.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. Thank you,” He took the bag from him, then fished out a fifty from his wallet.
“Woah, hey now, I can’t accept that, you already tipped me generously yesterday.”
“No. Nope. It’s fine. I insist. You’re…” he buffered as he noticed the faint sweat over his collarbones, and before his brain could stop his mouth, he blurted. “You’re hot.”
The silence was deafening.
“I mean- outside,” Jake corrected himself. “It’s hot outside. For you. Because you’re delivering in the heat. And the sun, it burns people.”
Albert stared at him. Somewhere deep inside himself, Jake felt the last surviving fragment of dignity quietly leave his body.
“Oh,” he said slowly. “Right.”
“Do you, ya know, uhh, want water?” he asked desperately. “Since you’re hot. In temperature.”Please stop talking.
Albert laughed outright this time, which was unfortunately genuinely dangerous. “Water would actually be great.”
“Okay. I’ll get you some, wait here,”he disappeared into the kitchen before he could embarrass himself further, placed two palms on the countertop, and pressed his forehead against the white granite, safely out of sight.
“Oh my God,” he whispered to himself. “Holy shit. I’m actually going to die.”
He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and took a few steadying breaths before the whole situation turned into a full blown panic attack, then shortly returned.
Albert accepted it with an easy smile. “Thanks, man,” he twisted the cap open and took a long drink.
The apple of Albert’s throat bobbed with each gulp, to which his brain supplied several deeply unhelpful thoughts.
When he finished, he wiped the dribble of water from his chin, and leaned against the doorway slightly. “So, what’s your name, by the way?”
“Jake.”
“Jake,” Albert repeated easily.
He couldn’t really find the words to respond, so he just nodded. All he knew was that he really liked how his name sounded on Albert’s tongue.
Albert glanced down the hallway before looking back at him. “Well, thanks for the water.”
“Yeah. Anytime. Well… not anytime, unless you wanted. Just if you’re thirsty again.”
Albert finally stepped back. “See you around, Jake.”he gave a small wave, then disappeared down the stairwell.
“Bye,” his voice cracked.
By the time Jake reached the bedroom, embarrassment had settled so heavily in his chest that he collapsed face first onto the bed, somewhat wishing it was wet concrete so he’d never have to see the light of day again.
He finished the day off by eating his troubles in chicken wings and watching dumb videos online.
The next day, Jake stood in front of his bathroom mirror, scrutinising how he looked, and eventually wishing he just didn’t have a face. Why did humans have those, anyway?
He leaned in closer, squinting at his reflection as his fingers brushed at the stubble along his jaw. There was a delicate line between attractively scruffy and downright lazy, and unfortunately, he no longer trusted himself to know the difference.
Maybe it did look good. Who knows, maybe Albert was into the whole… hipster… thing.
He raked both hands through his hair, immediately making it worse. Seriously? Why was his hair always against him? He tried to tame it, but it immediately sprang back into place.
Outside, rain hurled itself against the window. Water streamed down the glass in rivers, blurring the outside street into streams of grey and red taillights.
He vaguely recalled seeing a weather warning on his phone earlier while he was still half asleep. Something about flooding or strong winds, he didn’t really remember; maybe something about avoiding unnecessary travel.
He turned his attention back at the mirror. This was getting ridiculous, and borderline pathetic. He was an adult man currently hyper fixating on how his face looked all because he maybe possibly potentially wanted attention from a guy who delivered him Buffalo Wild Wings three days ago.
Albeit it, a hot guy.
The very male hot guy.
Which was still… a situation.
Jake stared at himself for a long moment.
The bisexual thing, to him at least, remained deeply unresolved. Jake was trying not to think about it too hard because every time he did, his brain went into over drive until he got a migraine.
There was no need to unpack all that today. Today he was simply ordering food. Specifically, Buffalo Wild Wings. Again. For the third day in a row. Like a normal person.
He reached for his cologne. Was that too much? Putting on cologne for a DoorDash driver?
He came to the conclusion that a little wouldn’t hurt anyone, so he sprayed it once into the air before stepping through the mist like he’d seen someone online do once.
There was definitely an unspoken boundary he was crossing. Still. He smelled pretty good now. Not that it mattered, of course. Obviously.
Ten minutes later, Jake sat on the couch with DoorDash open again. The app should honestly stop him at some point. Ask if he was okay and maybe provide a therapist recommendation.
After confirming the order, he checked his phone every few minutes, trying extremely hard to act normal about this whole thing.
A notification appeared, and a smile spread across his face when he saw Albert’s name. Oh, thank God.
It felt dramatic, but after mentally preparing himself for some random middle aged guy named Rick, relief hit him embarrassingly hard.
And anyway, this time would be different. He wouldn’t panic, he’d act normal. He’d be Cool. Casual. Relaxed. Because he already had this all rehearsed.
Hey there, good looking.
See? Perfect.
Soon, a knock rattled from the door, Jake opened it confidently. He was just about to recite his lines when every coherent thought immediately abandoned him. Albert stood there, completely drenched.
Rainwater dripped from him onto the hallway carpet, while his jacket clung dark and heavy to his shoulders. His shirt underneath was soaked through and stuck to his skin, outlining the faint lines of his body. But Jake shouldn’t focus on that right now.
Albert looked miserable. His cheeks and nose were a violent pink, and his shoulders were tense like he’d been shivering.
“Oh my God,” Jake exclaimed.
He lifted the take out bag slightly, smiling despite everything. “Three day streak, huh? Trying to break some kind of record?”
The joke barely processed. “Jesus Christ, what happened to you?”
Albert glanced down at himself. “Oh, uh, it’s raining.”
“No shit.”
“Just part of the job,” he said with a laugh.
“How long have you been out in this?”
“Since this morning.”
“And you’re still working?”
Albert shrugged lightly. “Kinda need money, unfortunately.”
A frown formed on his face. Albert looked freezing right now. His hair was matted against his forehead, and every now and then a small shiver moved through him.
“You’re going to get sick, you’re going to get pneumonia!”
“Ah, that just an old wives tale, Jake,” Albert brushed off, laughing again, although quieter this time, then sneezed hard into his elbow.
“Absolutely not,” he interjected. “You’re coming inside.”
“Jake, it’s fine, really-“
“You’re soaked!”
“I’ve got more deliveries after this, anyway.”
Jake stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “More?”
“Yeah?”
Another visible shiver passed through Albert almost immediately after he said it.
“See? You’re freezing. Inside. Now,” he said. Leaving no space for argument.
Albert laughed quietly under his breath. “You always this bossy?”He then hesitated under Jake’s gaze before finally stepping inside. “Five minutes,” he sighed. “Ten maximum.”
Albert’s shoes squelched with each step. Jake watched in horror. “Oh my God.”
“There’s flooding downtown,” he explained. “Ankle deep water. My shoes are beyond saving.”
Jake shut the door quickly behind him while Albert peeled off his soaked jacket with visible relief.
“My jacket sucks,” Albert muttered. “Water went straight through it.”His wet shirt left no room for imagination, Jake had to force his eyes upwards.
“You’re never gonna get warm dressed like that, stay right there,” before Albert had a chance to be stubborn, Jake had disappeared into his bedroom and immediately began tearing through his closet.
Eventually, he grabbed grey sweatpants, a sweater, and some lavender bed socks. When he returned, Albert was standing awkwardly in the middle of his living room, trying not to make a mess.
Jake paused in his tracks. Right. Holy shit. Albert was in his home. This was actually crazy right now. This was actually insane right now. But it didn’t mean anything. Focus, Jake.
“I have some spare clothes,” he announced, holding them out towards Albert.
He hesitated. “Jake, you don’t have to.. I…”
“Yes I do. You’re gonna get sick.”
“I can’t just steal your clothes.”
Jake wasn’t too against that prospect, Albert taking his sweater home, wearing it when he missed Jake. Then he remembered those psychology-sociology mental boundaries or whatever. “The bathroom is down the hall,” he shoved the clothes against Albert’s chest. “Get changed.”
Once Albert disappeared into the bathroom, Jake had to sit down on the floor to ground himself.
Jake was going to die. He was actually going to die. How could this be possible? How could such a hot guy even be in his home right now? And what God did he have to pray to for this to work out?
Everything was weird now, it was all weirdly intimate now, too revealing, somehow.
Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened.
The sweater hung slightly bigger on Albert’s frame, although it was one of Jake’s baggier ones, the sleeves enveloped his hands, and half his hair started to dry and stick up. Albert wiggled one foot, showing off the lavender socks. “Kinda cute, didn’t know you liked purple.”
Jake looked away instantly. “Uh, tea?”
“Please.”
Albert settled onto the couch, cocooning himself in a blanket while Jake hurried into the kitchen before he could say something he’d regret.
“You know,” Albert called out while Jake filled the kettle, “this is probably the warmest I’ve felt all day.”
“That’s concerning.”
He laughed it off. Jake felt it settle near his heart. Or maybe it was just cholesterol.
Shortly after he returned with tea, Albert was asleep, curled into the couch beneath the blanket. His cheeks were a light rose, his breathing had evened out to short breathes, and somehow, despite the storm, Jake’s apartment felt warmer than it had in weeks.