The Old Oak
pairing: jake lockley x gn!reader prompt: tree house summary: the old tree house in your backyard was the perfect place to make a friend, but will it be the perfect place to get him back? warning: jake comes with his own warning, but soft jake, light angst, hints at DID, hints at abuse, happy ending because I'm a sucker and jakey deserves it, brief mention of family member death. word count: 2.4 K author's note: this is my first entry for the MK Spring Bingo and I'm actually really happy with how it's turned out. soft jake is precious to me and i feel like everyone should get to experience it. anyways, this fic is actually super sweet so i hope you all enjoy!
You didn't want to be here. This place was full of people you didn't want to see or talk to, people you haven't seen in years, and people you see every year. Some people have nothing interesting going on in their lives so they tell the same stories to you every year.
The only reason you come is to please your mother. Ever since the death of your grandmother, who used to head the family function, your mother has taken over it, and every year she asks you to attend. Somehow it helps her nerves.
So you do your rounds, talking to various family members, updating them on the happenings in your life, hearing their updates on theirs, and talking about anything and nothing at all.
However, there's something about this reunion that's different. Your mother has been a little giddy, nagging you about how you look, asking you from time to time if everyone is here. It's odd, she's normally not so worried about such things. You wonder what could've gotten into her.
And then you see it. Or rather, him.
Jake Lockley.
"Mom, why is he here, he's not family," you whisper to your mother, pulling her aside.
"He's in town. I ran into him at the supermarket yesterday and told him to swing by. It's not like he's a stranger. He used to come to every reunion with you."
"Yeah, when we were kids. Mom, I haven't talked to him since high school," you try reasoning with her, wondering how she wasn't seeing what the issue was.
"I never understood that, anyways. Why did you two drift apart?"
Maybe because you had a raging crush on him in high school that couldn't face him afterwards? Or because he moved off without a warning or telling you where he was going or why?
"Because people drift apart sometimes," you answer quickly, glancing over at him where he seems to catch up with some old family members of yours.
This fucking guy. You can't believe him. The guy disappears for years after graduation and then shows up to your family reunion with no warning, acting like no time has passed.
"Well, maybe he wants to patch things up," she shrugs, laying out some more plates.
"Maybe he felt like he couldn't tell you no," you counter.
"Maybe you should go talk to him and find out."
"I can't just go over to him and-"
You're cut off by the sound of your own name. It's soft but you know the voice that said it. You can picture the way his mouth moves as it falls right off his tongue. Fuck.
You turn around and sure enough, there he is. Jake Lockley. The man that's been giving you heart palpitations since the ninth grade. How did he get prettier?
"Jake. Hi," is all you can manage to say.
"Hi," he smiles. "It's been a while."
"It has." Have you completely forgotten how to talk to him?
"Wanna take a walk with me?" he asks. And before you can stop yourself, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk with him.
It's quiet as the two of you walk down the street, neither of you really knowing what to say or where to start. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he walks next to you, looking down at the concrete.
“So you're in town?” you ask quietly, looking over at him, taking the leap and trying to talk first.
“Uh, yeah, I am,” is all he responds with.
“May I ask why?” you prod.
“Yeah. Um… I wanted to see if you were still here,” he answers, his cheeks turning a little red as he kicks a rock.
You weren't expecting that answer.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I realized I never properly said goodbye and I wanted to apologize. I just… We thought it'd be easier,” Jake admits, making you stop in your tracks. When he notices you're not walking next to him anymore, he stops and turns and looks at you.
“How could it have been easier, Jake? I was worried,” you ask incredulously, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. “You didn't even tell me you were planning on leaving.”
He looks around you. Clearly, this was not something he wanted to cause a scene about—not that you were trying to.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Jake asks. You know he's not trying to deflect, he's always been open with you. He just doesn't like being open in public.
“Wanna go to the tree house?” you offer.
“That thing’s still standing?” He looks at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked. You chuckle as you nod.
“C'mon,” you nod your head and head back down the street to your house, where you slip into the backyard and to the old oak tree in the back corner where your father had built a treehouse for you and Jake. Neither of you have been inside it since middle school. Well, you'd been in it a few times since Jake had left, for sentimental reasons, but only a few times. Mostly just to clean the leaves and stuff out of it.
Now, the two of you stand beneath it, looking up at it.
“After you,” you gesture to the ladder for him to climb up first, before he starts shaking his head quickly.
“No, please, you first, I insist!” He says, making you snicker and shake your head as you start to climb up the ladder. When you look back down, you see him still at the bottom, one foot on the first step, glancing up hesitantly. His eyes widen a little, like he was caught red handed when he meets your eyes. He's so cute when he's embarrassed.
“You comin’, Jakey?” you ask, your voice teasing as you use the nickname you had used when you were like ten.
“Don't me call that,” he rolls his eyes as he starts to slowly climb up the ladder until he's inside the tree house, sitting opposite of you.
“Why not? Too big and tough for it?” you continue to tease him.
“No, because I'm not ten years old anymore,” he answers with a raised eyebrow. “I can't believe this thing isn't falling apart by now.”
“Well they tend to stay together when you keep up the maintenance,” you shrug, going to sit in the corner by the window, your favorite spot as a child.
“Who's kept up the maintenance?”
“Me,” you raise a challenging brow at him, almost daring him to keep bugging you about it. “Now…to the topic at hand.”
His natural smile, that he always seems to have when you're around, falters when you change the subject, nodding as he scoots over to his window on the opposite side of the treehouse. The window where he'd keep guard if any “enemies” (aka adults) were coming.
“Right… Look, I should've told you I was leaving. I'm sorry I didn't, I just…” he sighs, trailing off as he looks out the window.
“You just what?”
“You would have asked me to stay…And I would have listened to you,” he admits quietly, watching your family as they mull about inside the house.
“Why is that a bad thing?” You ask him softly.
“Because I couldn't stay. I had to leave. To keep us safe.”
“Us?” you ask, heart skipping. Was he protecting what could have been between you? But you see him point to his temple as he looks back at you. Ah, us. His alters and himself.
“You know what life was like for us. I had to get us out of there,” he says simply.
“I would've understood, Jake.”
Jake just stays quiet, dark brown eyes still looking out the window. He knows you would’ve understood. But that’s part of the problem isn’t it? That no matter what he does, even if he has wronged you, you seem to understand, as if you’ve forgiven him. He doesn’t deserve it, does he? Your forgiveness, your kindness. You’ve always been too good of a friend to him. It’s why he tried to stay away, because he knew you’d gladly welcome him back like this.
“So you came all the way back to apologize?” you ask, realizing he had no intention of responding.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to leave again?”
He went quiet again. You weren’t sure if that meant yes or no. So you wait to see if he responds.
“Do you want me to leave again?” he finally says quietly.
“No. My best friend just came home, I’m in no rush to lose him again. But I understand if you do,” you admit softly.
“How do you always understand?” he asks, turning to you, his brows furrowed, confused.
“What do you mean?”
“Every time I leave or come to you with some shit excuse for how I’ve been acting, you always understand. When I told you there were other people inside my head, you understood. When I would ask to crash at your place at random times in the night, covered in bruises, you never asked for an explanation, you just understood. When I left town after graduation without ever telling you a single thing, you understood. How do you always understand?” His voice sounds almost pleading, his eyes trying to find an explanation written on your face.
“I don’t know…I just do. Because you’re my best friend. I’ve never needed an explanation from you. I just trusted you. You never did anything without reason. I understand because I know that life isn’t perfect and I certainly can’t be perfect, so how could I expect you to be as well?” you admit, the words coming to you easier than you thought they would. “Because understanding you has always come easy to me. You could say nothing at all and I’d understand what you mean. You’re like…”
“Like what?” Jake asks when you trail off. He catches the sight of your pink cheeks in the sunlight. For a moment, he allows himself to think about how pretty you are. Though, he’s always thought you were pretty. For a moment, his silly little heart hopes you say what he wants you to say, what he wanted to say before he left.
“You’re like… my soulmate,” you say softly. “I know it sounds silly and childish, but it’s true. We’ve gone through so much together and we always have each other, even after being separated for years. You’re my soulmate, Jake, and I-”
“I love you,” he rushes to say before you can even think of the words. You stop speaking, having been caught off guard, for many reasons.
For one, you never expected him to be the first one to say those three words. You always thought you’d have to be the one to say them. Secondly, you never thought he’d say those words to you. You never could have imagined your best friend feeling the same way as you. And yet, here he was, saying them. Before you and to you. This has to be a dream.
“Lo siento,” he starts to say, his eyes a little panicked. “I didn’t mean to say it. I just- I thought that’s where you were going so I thought I’d say it. Mira, don’t feel obligated to say it back, I just-”
“I love you, too,” you cut off his anxious rambling. He stares at you a moment like you’ve grown a second head. “I’m not just saying it because you said, either. Jake, I’ve loved you since high school. I wanted to tell you then, but I was scared, and then I went to tell you and you were-”
“Gone. Fuck…” he breathes, looking down as he seems to mull this over. “I think I had to leave to realize it myself. I missed you, almost came home so many times, I kept wondering why I felt like something was missing. Why some days I felt like I couldn’t breathe suddenly whenever I wanted to speak to you or see you. One day, it hit me: I loved you, and missed you.”
You almost can’t believe it. That he was admitting this to you. He was explaining himself, and you knew it wasn’t because he felt like he had to. It was because he wanted to. And you weren’t even sure how to express what you felt other than leaning across the space and taking his face in your hands and kissing him.
And boy, did it feel right. His pink lips, thought you’d often caught yourself staring at, fit perfectly against yours. They were soft, and he tasted like…raspberries? He must’ve snuck some when he got here. But he seemed frozen, his lips weren’t moving against yours. Fuck, did you cross a line? He might not have been ready for that. And just as you start to pull away, his lips chase yours, taking them back between his own, hungry to keep your sweet lips against his. He’d just gotten his first taste of the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and he sure as hell wasn’t letting it leave his lips anytime soon.
The way you two seemed to move together, in sync with each other, was electrifying. Jake cups one of your cheeks in his calloused hand, his other hand slipping behind your back to pull you closer to him, the small space of the tree house practically forcing you into his lap – not that you minded.
When you two finally part, it’s not because you want to. It’s because you have to. Because you both need air to breathe. So, you sit in his lap, nose nuzzled together as you both catch your breath, looking at each other.
“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” you breathe with a soft giggle.
“Because then it wouldn’t have been as sweet as that was,” he points out with a smile, leaning in to give your lips a soft peck.
“Well, I suppose you have a point, there,” you smile wide, looking into those eyes that melt into chocolate when the sun beams hit them just right.
“Course I do,” he grins, kissing you again, losing himself against your lips. And you’re just as bad, falling even deeper in love with him every second you’re in his arms. It feels like a dream come true.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.
“Te amo,” he whispers back.
And so you sit, basking in each other’s presence, finally in the arms of your best friend again, your soulmate, your lover. And it seems only fitting that the place you finally become lovers is the same place where you decided to become friends:
In the tree house in the old oak tree in your backyard.
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here's my bingo card. I figured it'd look better down here!
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