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Jake's So Tired

Summary:

Jake's really tired after having to go through so many different trials, but his friends keep arguing over the stupidest things.

So, Jake's just gonna go sleep in the forest. Because that’s not a bad idea, nothings going to go wrong. I mean not in that creepy, dark, killer filled forest.

Or, well, maybe Jake should have rethought that plan.

P.S. This was slightly inspired by bacom's "Could I write anything more indulgent??" You should really check it out, I thought it was really good.

Notes:

So just a fore-warning, this is not my first fan-fiction, but it is the first one I've written in at least five year. But I saw how very little 'cutesy' stuff the pairing had and I couldn't help myself.

So this is probably rough and too fast paste, but I'm satisfied with it. I had a lot of fun writing this, maybe i'll do some more in the future if I have the time.

(Oh also, warning for cuss words and the threats of stabbing, but there is no actual stabbings.)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Jake is tired. Really tired , exhausted even . He’s been to 15 different trials now, in a row. .. 

 

The Entity has been known to (*Shclack!*) take favorites from time to time. Sometimes they pick a certain person (*Duht, Duht, Duht*) out of our little group and throw them into a few trials, one after the other, but they always let them go after 3 or 4 games. (“God Dammit Bill, I don’t care. If you do it that way you’re gonna get stabbed”)

 

The longest (*Duht, Duht, Duht*) anyone had to continue the ‘loop of trials’, as Ash likes to call it, had been eight times. And that wasn’t even because she was their favorite at the moment. Nea had found a way to skip the trial and leave in the first minute.

 

Everyone (*Shclack! Thunk!*) at the campfire, including Jake, was caught (“All Wright then, But if ye’ did it this way’ then it’d be better’!”) off! guard when she showed back up, when they heard what she had done they immediately jumped her to tell them how she did it.

 

You could say that the Entity was mad.

 

But that doesn’t matter right now, because Jake is (*Shclack! Thunk!*) Fuck! tired and all he wants to do is collapse in a pile by the campfire and sleep. In fact he’s been trying to but Dwight keeps bouncing his leg up and down, and David is arguing with Bill and Ace about some kind of looping technique. Nea was also making (*Duht, Duht, Duht*) some goddamn! shanks with Laurie and Feng on the log right next to him.

 

He was slumped down in a ball between (*Shclack!*) one! log and the other. On the right log sat Feng, Laurie, and Nea, the other held Dwight and Meg. Who were conversing quietly. Every once in a while Dwight would pick up his head to glance at Jake, it was (*Duht, Duht*) unnerving .

 

But it was better than sleeping with the others. Tapp snored like a fucking bear, and Quentin like to drool. Claudette was okay, but Everyone’s trying to leave her alone right now. She, unfortunately, had a terrible (*Shclack!, bang*) time, goddamn it!, in the last trial.

 

It wouldn’t have (“But If you do it that way you’ll get stabbed as well!”) been! , been, as bad if it wasn’t that Jake hadn’t slept in at least 3 ‘days’. 

 

With everyone’s help they had roughly determined the amount of time that it took to get a trial from the Entity and then complete it. 

 

Each trail took roughly 25-30 minutes, and (*Shclack! Thunk!*) then another good 2 and a half hours for the Entity to start another one.

 

Regrettably, Jake only had around 10 minutes in between each of his trials, any naps that he tried to take were rudely interrupted. Which would unfortunately make him even more grumpy, it was the worst kind of awakening. He would then be (*Duht, Duht, Duht*) tossed... into a game for his goddamn life. 

 

By the time he reached the last two trials he just let the killers murder him, he was dead meat anyways. Any time he tried to help he’d just (*Shclack! Thunk!*) fucking ended up hurting his friends. His mind had long (“All wright ye’ buggar, yer starten to piss me off, ye lil shite!”) since lost... the ability to try and think.

 

Jake blew up generators, led the killers to his friends on accident, and finally lost all sense of direction and ran straight into Frank. Who hadn’t been very happy that he’d just ruined his chase with Jane. (*Duht, Duht, Duht*)

 

The last time Jake had ever been this tired was when he helped his old neighbor, Mr. Wildrow, watch his cattle when he (“Get yer arse over her’ an fight me!”) left due to some family trouble up in one of the nearby big cities.

 

Mr. Wildrow needed to leave because one of his sisters was going into heart surgery, there was some kind of hole or something in there, but a cougar had eaten one of his cattle (*Shclack!, bang*) a night! or so before. He wanted to go support his sister, but he couldn’t just leave his life-line behind. If he didn’t have his cattle then he wouldn’t be able to live out in the boonies on his own anymore.

 

Mr. Wildrow fortunately had a neighbor who only lived two hours away. Jake hadn’t (*Duht, Duht, Duht*) Fuck, Godamn it ! ...really known him too well, they only ever met when Jake went into town every few months. But in those few (*Shclack!*) moments with him Jake got the impression that Mr. Wildrow was a nice old man. So they parted ways with each other's phone numbers.

 

So when Mr. Wildrow ( “God dammit kid! Will you keep it down? Some people are trying to sleep!”) ... called with a simple request, stay the night at his house and make sure his cattle weren’t being eaten, Jake accepted. After all he didn’t want anyone he knew not being able to live where they wanted to. Even if he didn’t know them very well. That’s just not a way to live. (*Duht, Duht, Duht*)

 

In all honesty, seeing as it was heart surgery, Jake should have expected something to go wrong. By the third night of him being gone Jake had already shot at the cougar (*Shclack! Clunk, Schlack!*) six times. It must’ve been really hungry because Jake didn't have a single moment to sleep. Maybe it had babies, it had been spring after all.

 

Mr.Wildrow called Jake into the (“Aww will ye’ just fuck right off!”) fourth night, his sister had some complications or something. They had to do a 35 hour surgery just to get her stable enough to sleep that night. They were going to go back in and do another surgery to fix the problem. (*Duht, Duht, Duht*) 

 

But, hearts are fickle things... she didn’t make it. She died 18 hours after her surgery, in bed at the hospital. At Least she was asleep when she died, the doctors said (or maybe it was just what Mr.Wildrow said) that she died peacefully, she didn’t feel a single thing.

 

Mr. Wildrow came back the fifth night, grief stricken, mumbling something about selling the farm to spend more time with his family. He thanked Jake by (“God dammit!”) baking him a sweet apple pie and letting him sleep in his comfy guest bedroom. Man, Jake is really missing that bedroom at the moment.

 

The next time Jake went to town Mr. Wildrow wasn’t there. (*Twack*)

 

It wasn’t exactly sad, Jake barely knew him, just… Jake didn’t know how to describe it...That kind of feeling you get in your chest. When it tightens and you get a kind of antsy feeling in your hands. Like you need to move them, but no matter how many times you do…it just doesn’t go away...

 

(“Of for Christ sakes will you guys stop!”)

 

All Jake wanted was some...

 

(“Oh shut up Laurie! Know one cares!”) (*Twack*)

 

Fucking Peace

 

 (*Shclack!*) (“Oh Sure~ and were the ones making so much noise!”)

 

And 

 

(“Guys! please keep it down.. for Jake and Quentin”)   (*Duht Duht Duht Duht*)

 

Quiet

 

 (*Twack*) (“Shut it Dwight*)

 

“Will You Guys Shut The Fuck Up!” Jake was sitting up in a single moment. Hands pressed to the ground in a tight fists. He glared at the others for a second, eyes landing on Bill and David. 

 

Bill had him pinned to the ground, one of David’s arms held behind his back. The other arm was flailing, trying to get some kind traction, or maybe he was trying to hit Bill?

 

A glance to the side brought an image of Dwight looking guilt-ridden, his leg bouncing more rapidly than before. While Feng and Ace looked sheepish, Ace was even scratching the back of his head and letting out a nervous giggle. 

 

David looked pissed, but there seemed to be some kind of apology in his eyes when he peeked up to look at Jake.

 

Not that Jake was seeing it over his own rage, mind you. It was burning straight through, racing through his blood. Making his usual self isolated and quiet self lash out. I mean if you had just spent three days running from killers with no sleep, and your friends keep screaming their heads off at each other, you would too.

 

Bill still seemed to be his same rational self though, just watching Jake. He’s eyes were clear of any rage or anger. It seemed like he was actually having fun, amusement seemed to light up his smile. Although, for a split second, Jake could swear he saw his face scrunch up.

 

“I’ve gone through 15 godamn trials , and I just want some fucking sleep,” Jake was gesturing violently into the air now, “Is that so much to ask for!” He was now glaring at anything that came into view. His body tense, ready to pounce on anything that proved itself to be a threat. Or anyone who was about to object with his outburst.

 

His arms were still sore from all the hangings. You wouldn’t know how much of a work-out it was trying to pick yourself up off a hook.

 

Quenten, who was just sleeping between Tapp and Claduette, seemed to bolt awake. He was glancing around now, his eyes were still glazed over with sleep. Well at least someone had gotten some Zs. Although Claduette seemed to be more zoned out than asleep, and Tapp hadn’t even stirred awake yet. He just kept continuing on with that ground rumbling snore of his.

 

Good, Jake was mad but he didn’t want to wake them up. Those three had just come back from a trial, with Jake. And seeing that he wasn’t exactly helping, they had a really rough time. They went up against the Nurse, who seemed to be pretty angry for some reason. 

 

He couldn’t help but feel bad for waking Quentin up, he probably needed it more than Jake did. He’s always tired. 

 

But Jake couldn’t think about that, right now he needed to sleep before the Entity pulls him into another trial. Standing up Jake pushed himself into the woods, ignoring all the yells of protest behind him. 

 

He's always been fond of forests, maybe not the one Jake was in right now, but the ones he knew before had always been a safe place to him. He wouldn’t have been able to count the number of times he’s fallen asleep in the woods, back when he lived in that old creaky cabin. 

 

One moment he’d be out looking for herbs and berries, the next he’d open his eyes to find that he crashed out in a pile of bushes or a ditch somewhere. 

 

It wasn’t particularly safe, with all the wild animals and such, but it wasn’t exactly safe to fall asleep in a forest full of killers either, soo .

 

But Jake wasn’t thinking about that right now. No, right now he just wants to find a  ‘warm’ and ‘comfortable’ place to sleep.

 

Jake’s feet were sore. He’s built up a bunch of calluses over the years, but no matter how many you build up, blisters still hurt. And Jake has a lot of blisters right now. 

 

The Entity heals the major wounds you get from the trials. But the minor things, like bruises and small cuts, stay with you. Even if those bruises are the size of footballs. And don’t let Jake get started on how many splinters he has. The boat at the Hag’s place was littered with them.

 

One push, just one, and he’s got a face full of these microscopic fuckers. The ones that take days to get out because you can’t get a hold of their itty bitty ends. At least Jake’s gloves kept the splivers of rotten wood from getting into his hands, or, well kept most of them out.

 

But at least the Entity cleans and repairs their clothing. He did not want to sleep in muddy, blood covered, and ripped clothing. Especially if they'd just gone up against the plague. Vomit doesn't smell too good.

 

Jake’s especially thankful that the Entity repairs his scarf. Jake likes to use it as a pillow. It was certainly soft enough.

 

He’s just thankful that he brought it with him on the outing before the Entity grabbed him. Jake doesn’t always bring it with him. It was a gift from his mother when he left, and while he doesn’t particularly care for his father, he loves his mother. He didn’t want to ruin it. It was the last thing she ever gave him, before he went to washington, that is, and was unceremoniously kicked out of the family.

 

But it was cold that morning, so he thankfully brought it with him.

 

At Least that day wasn’t as cold as the Entity’s realm though. It was some kind of play to get them to stay at the fire.

 

You don’t want to be cold, do you? Stay where it’s warm, and where there aren't blood thirsty killers trying to kill you. 

 

Everything around the campfire was there to keep you inside of it, like the logs, the warmth, and the people. While everything outside of it was meant to keep you out of the woods. The murderers, fog, and ice-cold wind, were good examples.

 

Jake didn’t mind it too much, though, as long as it's quiet. Which it is. The Entity tried it’s best but it never quite got the actual sounds he used to hear in his old forest. All that you could really hear were the crows, which Jake actually liked.

 

The other survivors, and by their actions some of the killers, don’t like the crows very much. Kate once told him she thought they were creepy. And Nea was theorizing, saying that the Entity was using them to watch us in the trials. And maybe the Entity did, but Jake doesn’t care. He thinks they're rather cute.

 

It may also help that they seem to like him too. They liked following him around and warning him of approaching killers. Well most of the killers, they also seemed to like the Wraith for some reason. Maybe because he looked like a tree?

 

Jake took a quick glance behind himself. The fire was a pinprick glimpse in his eyes now, and he was definitely far away enough not to hear the others. Now all he had to do was look for a somewhat comfortable place to spend a couple of hours sleeping.

 

Sweeping his gaze over the terrain, his eyes seemed to catch the sight of a tree surrounded by a couple of bushes. The Entity’s landscape was rough and unusual enough to give it that creepy feeling, but it also looked like the Entity had just copied and pasted sections in every few feet. So it kind of ruined the vibe, or at least it felt that way for Jake. The others still thought it was creepy.

 

Sure enough with a glance to the left Jake saw the exact same tree and bushes a couple of yards away.

 

Well it looked cozy enough. Jake moved to settle between the bushes, making sure not to let himself be poked by one of the brambles sticking out of it. The bark was rough too, but so was everything else in this world.

 

Jake was just relieved that he was off his feet. Even if the bitter wind was settling into his skin, and one of the bushes was digging into a sore spot on the left side of Jake's chest.

 

 It didn’t matter. Because it was finally silent…

 

Somewhere between one moment and the next Jake’s eyes slid shut and he fell into a deep slumber. One full of cold murkiness and chilling wind. Where bruises burned and cuts stung. But, atleast, he was finally asleep.

 

Jake fell awake to the sound of rustling. Not the kind where an animal is searching a bush, for prey or berries, but the kind when someone or something is walking against the leaves. Like letting the edges of a bush skim across the sides of your pants while you walk by.

 

Maybe one of the others came to look for him. If that was the case then they could come and find him, he isn’t getting up. He finally just got comfortable, his body finally built up enough warmth against the massive tree. It wasn’t the best, the wind still had a bite to it, but it was enough.

 

Jake Squeezed his eyelids closed. Wishing for sleep to just come find him again. 

 

And yet, even though his own mind was begging for him to, he didn’t.

 

It was that damn rustling. Couldn’t they get the hint, he didn’t want to come out. He wasn’t here... just go away. Just walk in one direction and leave.

 

...Please, I really, really just want to sleep.

 

Please, please, please, please, please, please…

 

Just go away… come on! Just move a few feet away at least.

 

...please...

 

But no matter how much he begged, the rustling continued. It was the same *Shliiiip* over and over again. As if they were pacing. Up and down, and up and down. Over and over again. In a circle around the same few trees.

 

It was probably Dwight, he always gets anxious if Jake doesn’t come back from his little escapades into the woods in time for the next trial. He usually gathers a few people though, he’s too scared of going in alone, not wanting to run into any killers. 

 

A wave of guilt rolled down Jake’s back. He must be really worried if he went this far out into the forest without anyone to give him back-up. And yet, here Jake was, only maybe 5 feet away from him, just one call and he would be able to relieve Dwight's stress and fear. 

 

Jake knew Dwight was only trying to look out for him. He’s always been afraid of everybody going out ever since Meg came back that one night from running with a giant slash running the entire length of her back. Apparently the Hillbilly caught her by his farm and decided to have some fun. She only made it back because she decided to bring a flashlight to search for items.

 

Now any time they go out Dwight panics, he just wants his friends to be okay. Even if he has to leave the safety of the campfire to make sure they are... 

 

Jake really was a terrible friend.

 

With a sigh Jake stumbled up onto his sore legs. Leaning up against the scaley tree, “Dwight!...I'm right here..” Jake shook off the remaining drowsiness. “You don’t need to panic… anymor-” Jake finally let his gaze travel to his anxious friend.

 

...which wasn’t his friend…

..It wasn’t his friend..

That Was Not His Friend, Oh God

 

Jake was frozen against the fucking tree. What stood before him was not Dwight, but a 7ft tall wall of fucking blue overall . Michael Myers was right there, 5 feet away from him. Oh God, Oh god, fuck, fuck, Fuck !

 

Why won’t his legs move! Move, come on Jake move!

 

His body was facing away from him, but now he was turning around to face the sound of Jake's voice. Myers was just standing there, staring at him. His head tilted just a little, curious. 

 

Why the hell was he even here? I mean Jake was sleeping in the middle of nowhe- 

 

Jake saw it now. Behind the great wall of Myers there were birds. Dozens of them. Dozens upon Dozens of tiny black bodies that sat upon the tree branches.

 

Michael was following them to him, like a fucking wolf stalking it’s prey. Following it’s goddamn tracks!

 

That's why he was pacing, he was looking for him. He was looking for Jake! 

 

His little bird friends betrayed him, they led one of the most vicious killers in this goddamn realm to him. 

 

...Well actually now that he was finally seeing them he could see that they were actually crying out to him. They just weren’t making any sound. They just kept opening their beaks, and flapping their wings in a panic. The Entity must be silencing them, wanting to see what’ll happen to Jake. Poor little things, and poor little Jake.

 

A sudden movement drew Jake’s attention back to Myers, who seemed to be moving towards him. Jake could feel his pulse start to race in the back of his neck, hands gripping the tree for some kind of stability. Feeling the gnarled lumps break into the skin of his already banged up hand.

 

Jake's breath caught in his throat, Myers was there. Right there in front of him, just fucking staring with that penetrating gaze of his. Only a few inches away now...

 

Jake needed to move... right Now! 

 

Jake pushed off the tree, his shoes scraped against the jagged ground. His right pant leg caught the edge of the bush, ripping into the fabric of his cargo pants.

 

It slowed him down, He needed to go, needed to, Now!, Right Now!, He wanted to go. Oh god did he want to but-

 

Myers wasn’t having any of it, afterall he was searching for Jake for who knows how long? In a quick movement he had Jake up in one of his signature choke holds. 

 

The hold was strong, not enough to completely cut off breathing, but enough to get Jake gasping for every new breath that escaped his lungs. The fingers completely surrounded his neck, his hands must be the size of watermelons. Damn impressive .

 

Jake kicked out into the open air. Feeling his jacket and undershirts start to ride up to expose a sliver of his stomach and back, the icy wind was biting at whatever new skin bared itself.

 

Jake may or maynot be in shock. That or his mind just can’t keep up with the current events. Either way he knew he was in trouble. Jake’s eyes fell to the glinting knife in Myer’s other hand, curled up below his hip in an arch. Just waiting to stab at Jake.

 

 Yep , he was definitely in trouble.

 

Jake kicked out again, trying his best to get out of the bigger man's grip. And yet, even at the angle Myers was holding him at, he didn’t budge. Myers just kept that suffocating gaze upon him. Gripping his neck slightly harder, he raised Jake’s entire body closer to himself. Jake was now above Michael, maybe three or four inches taller than him.

 

Jake felt his legs brush up against the taller man’s body. A sudden idea flashed into his head, it may not be smart or even sound proof but it was still a plan. 

 

Who knew if the Entity even got the concept of natural weak points.

 

Jake started kicking out again, harder, in a certain direction. Gasping Jake tried to gain another breath of air. At the same time he was landing blows against the killer's chest. Michael wasn’t even flinching away though, let alone letting go. But Jake wasn’t going to let up, not until he hit that spot

 

It was harder than what Jake originally thought it'd be, Michael was a muscular man with muscular arms. Ones that Jake couldn’t see over. Not to mention with the death grip on his throat every passing second seemed to make Jake's mind grow fuzzer and fuzzer. It was getting harder to breath by the minute. 

 

So yeah, Jake wasn’t having fun.

 

Jake’s vision seemed to blur, the other’s masked face seemed to grow and shrink in different ways. The trees behind them seemed to grow to infinite lengths, while the birds on them turned to black pudgy chickens. The edges of his sight turned white and black, and he couldn’t help the tears that welded up into his view. But over all of this, Jake saw it. His feet were landing just a few inches above what he was aiming for. And yet Michael still wasn’t flinching away.

 

Instead he was still just observing him. Just like before his head was tilted to one side, just staring. It was really starting to creep Jake out. 

 

His knife had gotten closer too, just bear inches away from his thigh.

 

Clearing everything from his head Jake aimed a single strike, just one very strong thrust. Hopefully this won’t just piss the big guy off. 

 

And 

 

1, 

 

2,

 

3…

 

(*Thump*)

 

Bulls Eye! 

 

Awhhh man, that must have hurt!

 

Jake’s foot struck straight into Michael’s crotch. With a jerk, followed by a stuttering sigh, Myers immediately let Jake drop to the ground.

 

Unfortunately, Jake, who had been so busy wincing away in sympathy and trying his best to get a mouthful of air, crumbled down into a heap himself. Barely having enough time to straighten up before Myers slumped down on top of him. Michael had Jake trapped between his body and the tree. The one that Jake had once long ago leaned on, too. 

 

Michael was shuddering, trying to work through the overwhelming pain. 

 

Jake, meanwhile, was trying to bust out of Michael’s hold. But, just like before, Jake didn’t have enough strength to knock Myers over. He couldn’t just kick him in the balls this time either, it would only make him madder.

 

Speaking of which, Jake could feel the wracking shivers run down Myers shoulders. 

 

Yeah, it wasn’t fun being kicked there. And Jake should know, his own brother has done it to him before. He lied on the floor for a good five minutes before the pain started to numb over, and even then he couldn’t bring himself to move.

 

Although, when it happened, he spent the majority of it moaning in pain, Michael wasn’t. He was just kneeling there, his masked face buried into Jake's scarf covered neck. From where Jake is he could hear the muffled breathing, it was harsh and stuttered out every few seconds.

 

It was getting calmer though, more even by the minute, and yet Jake didn’t really seem to mind. He thought it was peaceful, calming even. Just sitting there listening to the other man’s breathing.

 

Jake let his head settle onto Michaels shoulder. The fabric itself was rough, not like the coarse ground or the callosed trees. More well-worn and smooth. Those thoughts contradict each other, but it’s the only way Jake knows how to describe it. 

 

It doesn't help that Michael had muscles. Lots of muscles.

 

It was another layer for Jake to just lay his head down on, like a pillow. A really warm and comfortable pillow. And the way the bigger man was holding him made it even better.

 

One of Michaels arms was closed around his waist, almost like a belt. His hand was squeezing onto his hip, like a lifeline. The other was gripping his knife, which he had thrusted up into the tree, blocking out the cold wind from reaching Jake.

 

It was so warm and so quiet. Micheal’s breath was even now, not even the few brief hiccups stopped the rhythmic up and down pattern of his chest. It was rocking the smaller man to sleep. 

 

It was so calming, not even Jake’s bruised and aching neck could stop the ever growing drowsiness taking over his brain.

 

Jake scooted his face closer to the other man's throat. The latex mask was frigid, but was quickly warming up under Jake’s own skin. Jake could feel Michael’s warm body radiating heat behind the layers of his clothes. 

 

Pushing himself back just enough, Jake pushed his head into the space between Michael’s throat and the neck-cuffs on his overalls. Blocking his face from the wind that got past Michael’s body and snuggling up into the other man’s warmth.

 

Jake could actually feel the soft black shirt underneath. Like a prize hidden inside a spiky, or maybe more of a stabby, chest. It was really comfortable, maybe even the most comfortable moments he’s had since entering this hell realm.

 

So warm, so nice. The steady breath was rocking Jake to sleep. Any past anxieties or fear was washed away with the promise of sleep. Even if it was within the arms of a serial killer, it didn’t matter, because Jake was finally sleeping.

 

Jake let his eyes slip shut, not really caring or thinking about who he’s with and where he was.

 

And Jake did sleep well, he dreamt of warm hugs and soft blankets, big creaky beds and morning birds singing for the first time in what felt like an eternity.



The next time Jake awoke it was because of hands. 

 

Very large, calloused hands. Ones that you know have done a lot of work in their lives. Ones that were sliding up the back of his shirt, making it ride up even further than it was before.

 

The exposed skin grew cold. Cold enough that he could feel the goosebumps breaking the surface of his skin. And then, very suddenly, they were swept away by warm fingers. Over and over again.

 

Michael would let his skin prickle, just enough to get the hairs up, and then just sweep them away. 

 

Sometimes his fingers would dip down below the waist of Jake’s pants, circling random patterns into his hips. Or they’d travel up his back to send waves of pleasant tingles up his neck.

 

Michael’s other hand was curled up around Jake’s lower back, keeping him leaned up against the larger man. It was... peaceful, nice. 

 

Jake still had his face buried in the other's neck. Now noticing Michaels clean musky scent, definitely not the fake rustic ones you get in bottles. The ones his dad liked to buy for business meetings and conferences. But No, Michael’s scent was natural, rugged and thick like a pine tree after the sky decided to rain.

 

Scooting closer Jake nuzzled his face further into the space by his throat, trying to catch a better whiff of him. Uncurling his arms from where they were located, pressed up against the larger man’s chest, he wrapped them around Michael’s waist. Squeezing slightly.

 

Michael seemed to freeze up, his fingers frozen to where they were, placed on Jake’s side. 

 

That was until Jake felt his skin prickle up again in an attempt to keep the cold air out. Michael seemed to feel it as well because in the next moment he had his fingers dancing that same rhythm across his hips again.

 

Although he can feel the blatant stare Michael was giving him now. Jake could feel the ever increasing blush rush up his chest and into his face. Even his ears were turning a bright cherry red, and not from the chilly air.

 

But at least the stare didn’t feel scary anymore, it just felt curious and inquisitive. Like Michael had no idea what was going on and was trying to understand. Like he was trying to figure out what Jake was doing...

 

(Jake could feel the yawn in the back of his throat, like a scratch that needed to be itched.)

 

Either way it still felt nice, and as ridiculous as it sounds he felt safe. He felt safe because he was in the arms of a serial killer. One that seemed very interested in keeping him where he was.

 

So yeah, he was safe.

 

And warm, and comfortable, and his eyes were starting to slip down again.

 

But Jake didn’t want to sleep just yet, he wanted to continue feeling Michael’s warm fingers slide up and down his skin, and just be with Micheal and his even breathing, to be within this moment forever.

 

And yet Jake couldn’t help it, his eyes just kept closing. Over and over again. Each and every time Jake would jolt back awake again, only to have Michael squeeze him back down into his chest.

 

Until one moment, when Jake didn’t open his eyes again and didn’t jolt back, instead, without even noticing it he just let the soft twinkling darkness slip back in.

 

Jake was sleeping again, with fingers drawing random shapes against his sides, and deep breath soothing his sore thoughts.




Jake didn’t really wake up to anything this time. He just, ...one minute he was asleep, and the next he wasn’t.

 

And Jake was completely awake too, not even a single drop of sleepiness remained to cloud his mind. To keep him from remembering what happened.

 

He was on the ground, laying down next to the tree with those weird bramble bushes. Completely alone. No sign of the humongous man that was just there moments ago.

 

Well actually ... with a glance up to the enormous tree Jake could very easily see it, there just a few feet above its roots was deep gouge. Made from Michael’s very own knife.

 

Jake was still cold, and still sore, but that was okay. Everything was okay.

 

Jake was happy, really happy. Not only did he get a lot of sleep, but he also felt very warm inside. A kind of serenity feeling. The kind you get after a long day at work only to come home to your nice relaxing house.

 

Everything was okay. In fact everything was pretty great. He should probably head home now, before everyone freaks out and sends a real search party.

 

It’s weird to think of the campfire as home, but that's what it kind of is. A place you got to sleep, eat, and rest before going back to work, and that’s what the campfire is.

 

The crows were hobbling around him now. Preening and cleaning each other's feathers. A few of them were even picking at Jake's hair. Others were scouring the ground for nonexistent worms. Not a single worry in the world for them.

 

Jake let the smile span across his face. Man, it’s been so long since he’s actually smiled. Before all this Entity crap, and even before going up that mountain in Washington. 

 

How long has it really been.

 

Well, who really cares, he’s smiling now isn’t he? 

 

Jake's wondering where Michael’s went. Probably farther into the woods or something. In all honesty Jake’s surprised that the older man didn’t stab him before he left. He did kick him in the balls after all.

 

Maybe it didn’t hurt as bad as Jake remembered it did… Who knows?

 

All Jake knows is that he’s going to miss his warmth. And those fingers. And maybe that soft black shirt of his.

 

Okay so maybe Jake’s going to miss sleeping with him. On him? Ah man that sounds bad, not sleep with him as in sleep with him, but you know like in a literal sense.

 

Shaking his head Jake sat up, no need to get flustered now. He really didn’t need to be thinking like that about a serial killer. That would only get him hurt in the long run. And may or may not be morally correct either.

 

He’s got to get back before another killer finds him anyways. After all he might not find someone who's as warm as Michael was…

 

Oh God Damn it.

Notes:

So thank you for reading this thing, I hope you liked it.
I tried my best to get my grammar to be the best it could be, but I'm not very good at it.

Also, shout out to both my mom and my brother for helping me with this. My brother helped me come up with the idea of Jake kicking Michael in the dick, while my mom helped me with some of the word phrasing.