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Jakey has always been Jakey. His parents gifted him the very original name of Jake at birth but he’d always been Jakey.
He was Jakey when his mum would scratch at his scalp to help him sleep when he was small and afraid of the dark, smoothing her hands gently over his little back, rubbing sweet circles into the spiderman pajamas.
He was Jakey when his dad used to ruffle his hair, kicking a football back and forth in the back garden, teasing that he’d never be the next Ronaldo with those two left feet he has.
He was Jakey to Charlie, before he grew up and found out about nike tech and got a scouse trim. When he was so fucking little and used to look up at Jakey with the big, gormless brown eyes they share and ask to sleep in his bed so Jakey could trace shapes into his back for him to guess.
It only felt natural to go by that on Twitch, and unbeknownst to him at the time, build an entire brand around it. He’s Jakey from that day on, good and proper. No one really calls him Jake anymore, it feels like more of a nickname than Jakey now, it slips from his friends lips sweet and quick on occasion but it’s Jakey more often than not.
And Ellie. He’s Jakey to Ellie too, sometimes. She calls him Jake mostly, but on special occasions, usually when she’s sleepy or feeling emotional, she’ll call him Jakey and it feels special every single time. The way her voice lilts over the syllables and stretches it out sweetly soothes him, it’s a balm to his aching muscles and overthinking mind.
Though it’s nothing compared to when Heinz says it, choppy and harsh, fitting wrong around his accent.
The way Heinz says his name is something else entirely, it sends goosebumps over his skin and makes the back of his neck burn hot. He’d stumbled over his words the first time Beano spoke it, it had crackled through his shitty headset speakers and fired straight into his bloodstream like crack cocaine. He’d worked desperately to say anything during that first call so Beano would look at him, laugh at his jokes, say his name.
He probably should have figured it out at that point, if he’s completely honest. It had gone on like that, undetected and uncontrolled until the day they’d met in person.
He’d fannied around his room all morning, that morning, darting around like he had a fire under his arse, up and down reapplying his deodorant and cologne though they were literally just going to fucking Nando’s. He’d been unbearable, his dad had genuinely gotten up and walked out of the kitchen the 5th time he’d slid into the room to ask if his shirt looked wrinkled.
Ellie had watched from his bed with big eyes, legs crossed and bundled in one of his zip-ups. She’d watched him pace up and down the length of his room, listened as he’d nervously rambled on about meeting the lads, meeting Beano. She’d tried her hardest to calm him down, spoke in that sweet, levelled voice she adopts when his mind won’t stop spinning. It normally works but on that day it had just worked him up more.
He’d come very close to chundering before he’d left and he’d had to pull over four separate times on the way into town. He'd had to sit in silence with his eyes closed and head in his hands for five minutes before he could get his legs to work after he’d pulled into the car park.
And then it had all been fine. More than fine, really. He’d slotted in with them easily, like his jagged, misshapen edges had finally found a place they could slide in and fit comfortably. It had been almost too easy.
Almost being the key word there, because of the Heinz of it all.
Jakey had never in his life been the subject of so many dirty jokes, he’ll tell you that for fucking free. It had been relentless, comments about his arse, his eyes, his lips. Heinz had even reached out and groped his thigh under the table at one point, his big hand covering the width of it easily, soft skin spilling through the gaps in his fingers where they squeezed high up near his fucking groin. He’d near enough jumped out his chair but the gesture had sent heat rolling through his body thick and fast, and he’d had to take a few deep box breaths to calm himself down.
Despite the rampant sexualisation of his body, they’d gotten on like a house on fire. They’d bounced off each other perfectly, their humour was so similar it was nearly scary. They had a lot in common, too, and it felt like the rest of the world faded away when they spoke, like it was just the two of them that mattered, It had taken the other lads a few tries to get their attention on a few occasions, too wrapped up in each other.
Heinz had sat so close to him, that day, too. Had slid into the booth next to him and swung an arm over the back of it, tucking Jakey in. He had a habit of leaning in really fucking close when listening, tucking his chin down to gaze down at him whilst Jakey stumbled over his words like a right knob.
It had been, and still is, honestly one of the best days of his entire life.
Sitting there tucked up to Heinz and laughing with Chaz, and joking with Tays, and listening to Ginge’s 5 year plan for them, he had felt everything click into place perfectly. This is what he wanted, for as long as they’d have him, and he was going to do nothing short of setting his life ablaze to keep it.
He’d gone home hours later warmed with that same fire and Ellie had sat curled up on his bed watching him pace up and down the length of his room, this time tripping over himself trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth so he could tell her about his incredible day, his incredible new friends, and incredible, wonderful Heinz Baines.
He’d missed the way she’d looked at him then, but there were plenty more times to come.
The first time she’d actually verbalised it had been after the third time he’d cancelled on her for something Bov - or Heinz - related. She’d snapped at him down the phone, voice tight and controlled the way it goes when she wants to take a swing at him. They’d argued about it then, said things that would hang in the air between them for months to come but it had settled easily and life had gone on.
The next few times were in the same vein as the first one - he’d cancelled plans, he’d been late to pick her up, he’d spent too much time on his phone during a date. It almost felt like routine; fight, apologise, make up for it, fight again. It was somewhat comforting to know that he could keep fucking it up over and over again and still have her by his side.
And then they finalised the Bov House contract.
He has never fought like that with another person, never like that. He barely remembers it now, a blur of screaming at each other down the phone until she’d hung up and drove to his house and they’d screamed at each other some more on the front drive with his parents and brother twitching the curtain.
It had gone on for hours, yelling themselves in circles and never coming to a peaceful conclusion because at the time, what she was saying seemed genuinely ridiculous. He knows now that her kneejerk reaction of blinding fucking rage was really just panic, she’d known well before he did what was going to happen in the end.
She’d accused him of all sorts that day on the drive, enough so that when it had ended with slammed doors, Charlie had climbed into bed next to him, traced shapes into his back and asked him quietly if it was true, if he really felt like that about Beano. He should have known when instead of denying it he’d just made a guess that the shape being pressed into his shirt was a heart - it was.
They’d gone on like that for months, toed a flimsy line and not spoken about it much at all. She’d helped him move in, she stayed at the house a lot too, probably to keep an eye on him, and she’d formed a nice relationship with the other lads too - aside from Beano, naturally. Though that wasn’t completely her fault, Beano had started the bit with their “rivalry” over him and then never stopped milking it, another point of contention in their relationship - add it to the fucking pile.
It had been fine, everything had been completely fucking fine. Ellie was his beautiful girlfriend who he loved, Heinz was his best friend who he didn’t have homosexual feelings for, he lived in an incredible house, had a sick life. Everything was clicking into place perfectly.
Though, sometimes he wobbled a bit. Sometimes, when it was late at night or he was alone for too long or the wind blew in a certain way that carried Heinz’s cologne across the garden and to his nose, he would think and want and ache a little bit. He’d imagine what it would be like if things were just a little bit different, how he’d be held with his head tucked under a strong jaw, how he’d be kissed with smirking lips and stubble prickling his face, how he’d be fucked deep and right and full just the way he needs.
It’s easy enough to stomp those thoughts down because they just seem so far-fetched, like, Beano could have anyone he wants so why would he ever want Jakey? Though, sometimes he’ll catch Beano looking at him from across the kitchen table and that makes him wonder too.
The straw that breaks the camels back for him and Ellie is when he and Heinz go to Birmingham for a weekend.
In his defence, they originally went for work reasons, and they fucking did the work stuff, right? And nothing actually happened, not really - Beano got him very, very fucking drunk on a mini-golf stream and then spooned him all night when he’d been too pissed to get into his own room.
Jakey will admit he’d maybe played it up just a tiny, little bit. He’d curled up in Beano’s sheets and Beano’s arms and felt small, and safe, and warm. He’d laid there awake for hours, forced his eyes open again and again just so he could spend every second he could revelling in the warm breath on the back of his neck, and the strong biceps caging him in and the achingly sweet circles the thumb on his hip was tracing.
Nothing had happened, and he’d stumbled to his own bed in a mess of limbs before Heinz woke up but when they’d got the train home late that night, and he’d gotten in Ellie’s car at the station, he couldn’t look her in the eyes and this time, he knew why. She knew why too, she silently drove him back to the Bov House instead of her own and let him get out of the car without saying anything.
He’d ignored the lads' questions of why he was back at the house and locked his bedroom door. He’d nearly choked on the guilt that night, the sheets felt like they’d been made of concrete, the weight of countless nights with her here pressed him into the mattress and constricted his lungs and made him dizzy. He’d had to get up and kneel over the toilet when he realised that despite it all, the only thing he wanted was to be back in Heinz’s arms again.
He hadn’t slept at all that night, spent most of it sitting in a ball on the freezing marble of his bathroom floor, waves of guilt and nausea crashing into him and clashing with the tearful yearning.
He’s a chronic over-thinker at the best of times, but that night took the cake for it, going back over everything from the last year with a fine tooth comb and a clearer view; where did it start, when did he stop loving her, how did he ignore it for so long, was she right, all those times they’d fought about it?
He’d basically crawled to his car around 5am, after having ignored his phone buzzing itself off the desk in his room and the knocking at his door, and drove to her dorm. When she’d let him in, he’d known she hadn’t slept either, and that she already knew he was coming.
Five years with someone will give you that gift, to know another better than they know themselves. He’d realised in that moment that he’d been grieving, that night, and she had been grieving for much longer.
Their conversation hadn’t been much of a conversation at all, he’d cried big, heaving sobs that knocked the air out of him, and she’d let silent tears slip down her cheeks, face scrunched up like she was in pain. He’d apologised, not for falling in love with Heinz, never that, but that he’d not figured it out sooner, that he’d stumbled around blind in the dark and left her to mourn the end of them on her own.
He’d go on to tell Heinz about this night in detail after their first date, and it will hurt much less then - a scarred wound instead of an open one. It’ll be soothed by having exactly what he wants. He’d watch Heinz’s eyes go dark and lidded, and everything would be right with the world again - but in that moment, lying side by side with Ellie, in a bed he’ll never crawl into again, he felt like he’d been cracked open and ripped to shreds.
He’d always thought they'd end in a bang, screaming and slamming doors, a real knockdown fight that leaves them fuming instead of aching. It shouldn’t be, but it surprises him that they’d ended in a shaky exhale and silent tears.
Despite it all, he’d gotten back in the car with a clearer mind, clearer than he’d ever had, honestly. It had hurt, so fucking bad, but the relief had been dizzying.
He’d wanted to lie down in a dark room for many, many hours and cry - but it was a Wednesday, the day it ended, and they always film on a Wednesday, so he’d gathered all the broken and scattered pieces of him, drove home, showered and sorted himself out before the rest of the boys woke up, and got on with it.
He’d sat on the break up for a couple of weeks before he told the lads and it had been one of very few wise decisions he's made in his lifetime, it had given him enough space to organise his thoughts, and how he wanted to go on, especially with this new knowledge that he was arse over tit for his best friend.
He’d had time to settle back into his skin by the time it came up in conversation naturally - it had happened around the kitchen table at a ridiculous hour like most of their conversations do, mostly because they can’t have actual serious interactions when at least one person has a stream going somewhere in the house so when everyone has ended their streams and have wandered down for cups of tea and human connection, it’s usually three or four in the morning.
The conversation had gone exactly how he thought it would, aside from Chaz nearly killing himself with a brew and Ginge immediately clocking his shit. He spent that night locked in his room with Tays and Chaz giggling outside his door and asking who he was “crushing on” whilst he blushed red and told them to kill themselves in increasingly creative ways.
Beano had knocked on the wall, the way they used to do after a weird day, the way they didn’t have to do now because more often than not, Beano sleeps curled to his back. He’d hesitated, fingers twitching where they’d buried themselves in his hair, but he’d knocked back softly.
A week later, Beano asked him out.
He’d nearly had a fucking aneurysm in his chair when Beano had slid into his doorframe, and asked. He couldn’t bring himself to say much, only just about got his head to nod.
It had been perfect, really. It had felt a tiny bit awkward at the start, when Beano had knocked on his door and given him the flowers and sent him dizzy with how red he’d flushed but Ginge had corralled them the door with a smirk on his face and Tays and Chaz leant over the landing railing giggling at them and the awkwardness had fizzled away.
Heinz had snapped a picture of him at dinner and snickered at the replies he’d gotten from WillNE and Arthur. He’d weaved the story of how they’d ended up talking on the Soccer Saturday shoot, about love, about Isaac, and James, and Jakey. How Heinz had felt powerless to how he’d felt for him at times, especially after he’d seen the way those two were crushed under the weight of their own love.
He’d whispered into Jakey’s palm that he would have waited forever, would have laid down and let that love crush him into the soil at the end of his time, let the bugs taste the way it was built into his flesh and muscle, leaving behind only bones with Jakey’s name carved into them.
Now, that should have been a bit too much for a first date, and it was but it was him and Beano so instead it sent heat down his spine and he’d basically crawled over the table to kiss his face off and whisper his own sweet nothings into those lips.
So, yeah - the perfect date. Beano had him on many a surface that night because, start as you mean to go on and all that.
That was a few months ago, and everything is still perfect. Jakey wakes up every morning with Beano pressed to his back, kissing the flushed skin of his shoulders, he goes through his days blushed pink and loved and overly happy, he crawls in bed next to his boyfriend when he ends stream and gets a kiss with a little tongue for his hard work.
He doesn’t think he’s ever been happier, honestly. He’s loved beyond comprehension, and he loves the same way, adoring and devoted and sometimes he feels a bit like a worshiper - especially when he’s kneeling at Beano’s feet and kissing his skin.
He’s always been Jakey, since the start, but now he’s Beano’s too, has been much longer than he should have been.