Taking A Break
Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fe!Reader -> Despite Jake's feelings towards you, he agreed to let you be his roommate. Little did you know feelings would develop and you dealt with them the best way you knew how -- ignore them.
Disclaimer: Fluff, (not so) forced proximity, reader uses work to avoid developing feelings for Hangman, he worries for the reader and helps her take a break, hint of mutual pining and maybe oblivious idiots. There is a little smut towards the end. roomates/friends to lovers, little swearing. Not fully proof read.
“Come on,” Jake sighed, still half asleep himself. “You need some rest.”
“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, your dry eyes never leaving your desk.
You had been cramping from holding your pen so tight, and your back needed cracking over the poor posture you’d been holding whilst staring at your laptop.
Behind you, Jake rubbed his tired eyes and for a second he thought about going back to bed. But his conscience got the better of him.
“You need to sleep, Y/n.”
You nodded. “I know. And I will. Just not right now.”
With a heavy sigh, you figured he’d finally turned around and gone back to bed. But the next thing you felt was the chair you were sitting in, being pulled back and then spun around until you were trapped in front of him.
“Jake!”
“You’ve been pulling all nighters all week. Enough. Bedtime.”
You grumbled but very quickly found an answer to the question that had been plaguing your three am thoughts.
Could he lift me?
Apparently the muscles Jake Seresin had weren’t just for display.
Lifting you from the chair, he tossed you over his shoulders and carried you away from your poorly lit desk. No wonder your eyesight was bad.
“Jake, for the love of god-”
“Pray to someone else tonight,” he told you. “God is on my side. You need sleep before you greet him yourself.”
“Technically,” you started, “The human body can go without sleep for eleven days.”
“That’s not scientifically proven, and you know it,” he countered as he climbed the stairs with you.
“Well,” you didn’t exactly have a foot to stand on. “It’s a world record.”
“From the sixties. They didn’t exactly have the same medical advancements as modern day.”
“No, but-”
“You’re going to bed.” Jake ordered. “Argue all you want. And, technically, I don’t see you putting up much of a fight.”
You were glad he couldn’t see your face. The heat that was spreading across it would be very clear.
Did you have a crush on Jake? Maybe. But he was your roommate (reluctantly) and your friend (also, maybe, reluctantly). So, despite the feelings you had over gaining the information to your question, you could absolutely never, ever cross that line.
“Because I know it’ll annoy you more when I finally run back to my desk.” You countered, quickly. “Come on, just let me work. Please.”
With a huff, he turned the corner at the top of the landing and walked into your bedroom.
“Even though you asked nicely,” he said, before throwing you on top of your bed. “And I do like manners,” he leaned down and over you, his fists softly landing on either side of your head. “You’re going to sleep.”
“Is that so?”
Jake nodded. “Yes. Even if I have to lock you in here.”
“There’s a window.”
“Then I’ll stay here with you.” He said it as if it was a threat.
If he only knew the truth…
“Why do you want me to sleep?”
Jake tilted his head a little as he looked at you. “Why do you want to keep working?”
“Because it needs to be done.”
“It can wait til the morning,” he told you. “Anyone else would leave it until next week.”
“Clearly I’m not everyone else.”
“Clearly.”
For a split second, your gaze scanned his face and clocked an expression you weren’t exactly familiar with, coming from Jake anyway. Curiosity, maybe? Endearment?
Heat?
Soft heat?
“You know, I can’t sleep with you on top of me like this,” you told Jake, breaking the moment.
Even in darkness, you could see small red splotches covering his cheeks. Then he moved. “Right. Sorry. Get some sleep.”
By the door, he stopped.
“I mean it, Y/n. Before you burn yourself out.”
Brushing over the sudden serenity of his tone, you gave him a small salute. “Ay, ay, Captain.”
You watched as he rolled his eyes, but broke out in a tired smile anyway. “Goodnight, Y/n.”
“Night, Jake.”
With the soft click of your door, you heard Jake head back down stairs. No doubt, to turn out the lights and make sure the place was locked up again. Barely four minutes later, you heard him come back.
And, for a moment, he paused.
Then he continued towards his room where you heard the soft click of his own bedroom door.
The next morning Jake passed your bedroom to find your door still shut. He smiled for a moment, thankful you were finally getting some sleep. Especially for a weekend.
Only, turning at the bottom of the stairs, he found you at your desk again.
He watched you for a moment, scribbling and typing. Then he forced a cough.
Never had he seen you turn around so fast.
“Okay, this isn’t as bad as it looks,” you started. “I’ve only been here for like twenty minutes. And yes, I did sleep.”
Walking closer, he stopped just a few feet short of your chair. “You need to take a break.”
You nodded. “I know. And I will. It’s just the last of the County Reports and-”
“We’re going out.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna make some coffee,” he told you slowly. “And then you’re gonna get dressed and so will I. So, when we leave this house within the next hour, we look like functional human beings.”
“Jake-”
“You need to get out. Get some sun. Fresh air, preferably.” You went to interrupt, but he stopped you. “That is not within three miles of this house. So, go. Get dressed.”
“But-”
“Y/n.”
Feeling a little like a scolded child, you turned back to your desk and whimpered a little. Work was fun to do. It was a good and working distraction from letting your eyes wander over to Jake like he was your True North.
But, deep down, you knew he was right.
You needed some sun. And some fresh air. And the ability to wear glasses and not your contacts.
Within the next fifty minutes, you’d gotten ready for the day and were sipping on the coffee Jake had prepared for you. All the while, being sat in the passenger seat of his car after he’d wrangled you away from yours.
You figured, besides the fact his folks had raised him to be a gentleman, it was so you couldn’t make a quick escape back home to continue working.
Little did either of you know, over the next twelve hours, everything would change between you.
It started with a second coffee, sitting outside The Hard Deck, looking over the morning sun and its greeting with the sea. Somewhere between the catch up conversations and more miniature arguments over how much work you do when you’re not in work, you both moved on to driving up and down the town before Jake got an idea and simply told you, “It’s a surprise,” when you asked.
It was something he rarely did. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, long before you moved in with him.
You’d caught a flight into San Diageo to visit Natasha and Bradley. Bradley, who you’d met in college, had quickly introduced you to Natasha and the pair of them became your closest friends.
Practically family.
So, when they finally got a few days off, you decided to go down and visit. And, when they asked you what was happening back home, you’d told them your situation. Work was transferring you and you were looking for a new place to call home,
That was the moment Ruben chose to tell you about an open room a couple of blocks from him. Offering to take you to the open interview, you agreed. Though, you did find it odd the landlord was ‘interviewing’.
“He’ll love you,” Ruben had told you before you walked up the porch steps. “Trust me.”
Knocking on the screen door, the air was pulled from your lungs when you realised who the landlord was.
Turns out, Jake – Hangman as he was known to the team – was looking for a roommate. There was some conversation over Jake not enjoying living completely alone that played in the back of your mind, but it quickly drifted away with all the other noise when he said your name.
It took, seemingly, a lot of convincing to get Jake to choose you as his roommate. Though he was never a complete asshole to you, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out Jake wasn’t exactly amused by you.
Maybe you talked too much, or not enough. Maybe to him, you didn’t fit in with the group. Maybe he was irritated by your presence, but somehow found a tiny piece of comfort in knowing you weren’t a total stranger.
After all, Natasha and Bradley had known you for years.
Finally, with the assurance of different work schedules, your ability to avoid people like the plague, minimal friends who he didn’t already know and the promise to always wear headphones, you were signing the contract and moving in three days later.
And, for a while, life remained as close to your promises as you could keep it.
You wore headphones when listening to music, or watching something on your laptop. The only time you didn’t was when he was home – even if he wasn’t even in the room. When you cooked, you cleaned up after yourself.
The place looked like nobody had even touched it save for the extra groceries in the fridge.
Whenever you made a big meal, you stocked into tubs and left some for Jake if he wanted any.
Mostly, the only time you crossed paths was when he came home from work and you were an hour away from heading to bed.
At least, until you were given a different work time-table.
Then the time you spent with Jake seemed to multiply. For the first week, you were waiting for him to kick you out. But then something changed.
It started out small.
A Post-It on the coffee pot.
Then you found a to-go breakfast with your name on it in the fridge, the morning after you’d missed your alarm and had skipped “The most important meal of the day,” according to Jake.
Slowly but surely, Jake seemed to warm to you. In his own way.
The moment you realised he might actually be your friend, and not see you as a complete nuance, was when it came to your birthday. You hated surprises and Jake had seen your reaction all day to gifts and cards that you hadn’t been expecting.
You looked like you were trying to diffuse a bomb. Or escape an inescapable escape room.
“I’ve got you something, too.” Jake had told you when you flopped down onto the other end of the sofa.
“What is it?”
“A surprise.”
“I hate surprises,” you told him.
Then you heard him chuckle before he reached for something at his feet. A small cardboard bag.
“I know,” he told you. “You’ve looked like you’ve been in hell all day. It’s a book.”
For a moment, you looked at him. Both pleased and thankful that he’d noticed. “You got me a book?”
He shrugged. “I noticed you’d finished your other. Figured I’d save you a trip to the store.”
Pulling it out of the bag, you were greeted with the fourth book of your current read. You could have cried.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, “You’re welcome.”
From then on, anything that to a normal person should be “a surprise” was something told to your face. And you couldn’t have been more thankful.
The rarity of Jake’s ‘surprises’ tended to come in the form of something he was building. A shelf, new cabinets, a book case for your room. Smaller projects that weren’t completely finished so still had a chance to turn into something else.
Which, maybe, was why you didn’t hate Jake not telling you where he was going.
And, for the first time, upon arrival, you were thankful you weren’t told where you were going.
It was a roadhouse. Old and shabby, but definitely filled with memories.
Getting out of the car, Jake had taken your hand in his and led you inside. Through the crowd of regulars, he kept you close to him as he ordered two drinks and you both scurried off to a back corner booth.
“How did you find this place?” You asked him.
“Late night drive one night,” he told you as the drinks were finally brought over. “People kept turning down this little road and I wanted to know why. They had a rodeo night to draw in the crowds.”
“You must sniff them out like a bloodhound,” you remarked. “Country music and cowboys.”
Jake chuckled. “I am Texan.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, guess that might help.”
With a laugh, Jake took a long drag of his drink. For a while, you talked some more. Jake told you more about his hometown and his family. He told you about the last shitty date he went on and how he’d drowned his ‘Single Sorrows’ in the very same bar.
Then, watching the dancing crowd, Jake placed down his beer bottle and reached for your hand.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Dancing. You know what that is, right?”
You followed him towards the dance floor. “I am aware I don’t leave the house all that much, but yes, Jake. I know what dancing is.”
Turning to face you, he pulled you in closer to him. “Is this alright?”
Controlling your breathing, you looked down at where his hand met your waist and his other hand held yours. “Yep.”
“Good.”
Somehow, he pulled you a little closer and you didn’t fail to notice the slight smirk that took over his face before you let him take the lead.
“Why do you work so much?” He asked you when another slow song finally hit. “You’ve pulled all nighters, all week. And it’s nothing new, either.”
You shrugged. “Gives me something to do.”
“So does reading.”
“Not in the mood to read,” you told him, simply.
Jake gasped a little. “You’re not?”
“Ha, ha. Very funny, Seresin.”
“No, no. Colour me shocked. You’re working because you’re not in the mood to read. Who are you and what have you done to my friend?”
You smiled a little. “Oh, so we’re friends now?”
“When were we not?”
You furrowed your brows for a short moment. “I figured I was being a nuisance. An annoying one, at that.”
“You thought that?”
You nodded, oddly proud. “I live with myself 24/7, Jake. I know I’m annoying to be around.”
He shook his head. “You’re not annoying to be around.”
“Even when I don’t go to bed?”
Jake chuckled. “Okay, maybe a little annoying. But…I am your friend. We’re friends. At least, I like to think we are. What made you think we weren’t friends?”
A scoff covered laugh left you. “How about when we first met? You kept your distance. Or when I interviewed to move in. It took a hell of a lot of convincing on your end to let me stay.”
“That room was yours the minute you opened the screen door.”
“Or the– what?”
Jake smiled. “I have to be honest, it did shock me to find out it was you who Ruben told me about. But…you fit, Y/n. You were the only one to walk inside who looked around and saw it as a home. And, I was distant when we first met because I was trying to figure you out. You work hard, but you work even harder for your friends. I don’t know how or why but I know, for a fact, you know exactly when your friends need you to talk. Backing them up, filling in the uncomfortable silence. You know people so well…”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”
Jake chuckled a little, “See.” before he continued. “But…I think you don’t let them see you. You know when to hide. When to shrink yourself and make it seem as if you don’t exist. But you do. I want you to exist. You deserve to exist.”
Unsure what to say to his sudden burst of therapeutic truth, you just smiled and laid your cheek against his shoulder.
“Please don’t burn yourself out,” he whispered. “And please, don’t hide yourself in your work.”
After a few moments, you leaned up and looked at him fully. “If I promise you – right here and now – that I will take a break. That I won’t hide. That I’ll make sure all work work is done at a reasonable hour. Will you stop worrying?”
Jake nodded. “Yes.”
For a moment, you glared at him gently. “I’ll give you a week.”
“What?” He chuckled.
“Before you’re sick of me and begging me to put my headphones back on.”
Jake chuckled. “Your music taste isn’t too bad, actually.”
“And the podcasts?”
“Are creepy as hell,” he told you honestly. “But they’re cool. Even if they do keep me awake at night.”
“When have you listened to the same podcasts as me?” You asked, a little shocked.
Jake shrugged a little. “I saw it highlighted on your phone when you were cooking. I wanted to see what it was about.”
“You coulda just asked.”
Jake nodded. “I know. But you seemed to be in the zone. I didn’t want to disturb you and maybe end up with a fork in my hand.”
A small part of you chuckled. “Maybe that was a good call.”
As the sun slowly started to set, you and Jake finished up at the Roadhouse before hitting the road again.
It was dark by the time Jake was locking the front door behind you as you headed towards your desk. However, within twenty seconds, you felt him scoop you up.
“Nope. Not tonight.”
“I wasn’t gonna work! I swear!”
Jake glared a little as he carried you towards the stairs. “I know you too well. You’ve probably got some loophole in that promise you made me. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Jake-”
“No, not listening.”
“I can get up the stairs myself.”
Jake simply shrugged. “Now you don’t have to. Consider it part of your day off.”
You rolled your eyes, but tightened the grip of your arms around his neck as he climbed the stairs and carried you into your bedroom. “You’re an idiot.”
“I think you’ll find,” he threw you onto your bed, if in a somewhat gentle manner. “I’m a genius.”
“Oh really?”
Jake nodded as he leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of you. “Yep.”
“Do tell.”
“Well, for one, you’ve taken a full day off. And you’re currently in your bedroom.”
“Wow,” you mocked. “You should have been a detective. A real sleuth.”
He cocked his head. “I did read a lot of Sherlock Holmes in college.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a mystery guy.”
“Mystery guy, or mysterious guy?”
You rolled your eyes once more. “Now you really are an idiot. There is nothing mysterious about you, Hangman.”
“Oh really?”
You nodded.
“Do tell.”
“You’re sure of yourself. You know exactly what you want and you go for it, no matter the consequences. You say Mav needs an ego check, but I’d wager so do you. Preferably not a self-check. You can be an asshole, but we all know you’ve got the biggest heart going-”
“Not the only big thing about me.”
You rolled your eyes once more and chuckled with cringe. “Urgh, and you’ve got the dirty jokes of a high schooler.”
Jake chuckled. “I meant my brain. I am a genius, afterall. You really need to get your head outta the gutter once in a while, Sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart,” you repeated. “Wow. So original.”
You watched as he shrugged. “It suits you.”
With a breathy chuckle leaving you, a silence managed to settle over the two of you. Still unmoving, Jake’s hands remained braced on either side of you.
And somewhere in the silence and the heavy eye-contact, you both did something that neither of you could figure out why or who had started it.
You kissed.
Your hands gripping his collar, one of his own coming to swipe down your hair until he could get his fingers in it from underneath. Jake leaned down into you just before you hooked a leg around his thigh.
Nothing really slowed down from there.
Surrounded by tangled sheets and brand new headboard scuffs, from where Jake had slid his face away from under and in between your thighs to position himself behind you, and rocked himself into you enough times to pull the next orgasm from you. You and Jake tried to catch your breaths.
“Sweetheart?”
For a moment, you didn’t move.
“Sweetheart, let me see you.”
Relaxing your body, you leaned back until you were flushed against his chest.
“There you are,” he breathed out as he smiled. For a quiet moment, he peppered small kisses across your cheek before he finally lowered his lips across your jaw and down your neck.
“Why haven’t we done that before?”
Jake chuckled before pulling out of you and turning you back over to face him. “I don’t know. But I’m glad we’re doing it now.”
“Will it happen again?”
Jake nodded. “So long as you want it to.”
You could barely do anything more than nod before Jake’s lips were on yours once again, his hands cradling your face.
“Stay here,” he told you as he kissed you. “I’m gonna get a couple things to clean us up.”
“Okay.”
Twenty minutes, a bathroom break and a set of fresh sheets later, Jake was pulling you into bed beside him.
“Just so we’re clear,” Jake told you. “You’re gonna be taking a break again tomorrow. And this is definitely happening again.”
You smiled, leaning closer. “Good. I could get used to taking breaks like this. With you.”
Jake smiled, tightening his grip on the top of your hip to rock you closer to him. “Good.”
