two weeks to live. {Jake/Open}

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

Jahel had been forced out of necessity to bring his dog-killing days to an end.

Didn’t anybody smell that? Weren’t they ever distressed when their dirty flea-infested hides walked all over the otherwise clean floor? For god’s sakes they ate food there. Being in a borderline terrorist and/or unlawful secret organization dedicated to the prevalence meta-humans didn’t mean they had to act like they lived in a goddamn farm. In fact, that just seemed counter-productive. No self-respecting goody meta-human would come in here and take them seriously if they saw a bunch of mutts running the place. Why not just bring some cows in here?
They’d be more useful than dogs. At least you could eat them.

Ah, well. He supposed it had gotten old after a while.

The curtains snapped out of the way; blinding light rushed in. Jahel narrowed his eyes to protect himself from the sudden onslaught of morning. He grunted and adjusted his hair, running his hands through it – ”Uugh,” he muttered, turning away from the light so that it turned his russet hair a bright, oxidated red. He hated bed hair. Better get cracking.
His first order of business was to turn the music up. This was (as far as anyone knew) to let the rest of the house know that Jahel was awake and running and smelling the coffee and they’d better get moving too because daylight didn’t last forever. They had things to do and citizens to terrorize. These sorts of things took initiative and there was no one who knew that better than he did.

But first he had to look nice.

Jahel battled his hair into place, snapped his shirt up, shaved, looked at himself, rinse and repeat, a process that took no less than an hour or so. He was narcissistic, a perfectionist, almost violently so. If Gabriel hadn’t been the leader he would have gotten rid of all those dogs himself. Dogs were one of the reasons Jahel had resisted moving into his secret little headquarters for so long, knowing he’d have to bear with the stench and their stupid little wagging tails. He hated how they always came back to you, no matter how cruel you were to them. It was disgusting was what it was.
But he knew Gabriel liked that sort of stuff. Subservience. He’d sensed a kindred spirit in the both of them despite how glaringly different the other man was. He was reserved, harsh, and strict. Jahel was loud, extroverted, social. Yet they both adored power – control over others. The only difference was that Gabe fed off their obedience and their fears; Jahel lived off of their adoration, their love. He could not have lived without it. More than food and water, they supplied the power that he loved the most, that he needed more than anything; it gave him more nourishment than any meal. He took from them and they loved it. He was a predator among a vast majority of prey, and most were willing to let him sink in his fangs and drain them until they were no longer useful to him, or until he forgot.
Jahel could be like others and simply take what he wanted by force, but he preferred them to be willing. After all, where did one get in society by doing everything by force? Almost everything was solved by wit and subterfuge and Jahel understood this and found all sorts of ways to thrive on it. There was no need for intimidation unless the situation clearly warranted it. Most of the time it did not. He charmed with clever words and enticed them with good-will, but in the end it was in Jahel’s nature to do nothing except what benefited himself and himself alone.

One would think he’d rebel against the hierarchy here, but he recognized a common goal when he saw one. Destroying the complex web M.S.A.D had woven would disrupt his own goals, which he had no intention of doing.

‘Sides. He got along with Gabe, didn’t he?

Jahel descended down the staircase to get him something to eat when he met a familiar face. ”Morning, kid,” he greeted him, with a smile and a voice like dark water over smooth river stone. His light blue eyes were nearly transparent in the bright morning sun. Granted, Jake wasn’t a child, but he had a habit of referring to him as such. ”Y’look good.”

He was quite aware that Jake’s loyalty had been called into question as of late, but Jahel had always seemed uninterested in pursuing the matter. Turning his head, he took a big chug of milk out of the cartoon and tossed the refrigerator door closed behind him.

[Jacob Lawrence]

Jake was by no means a morning person. It was only grudgingly that he ever rolled himself out of bed before noon and, even then, he often found himself drifting back to his bed for a late-afternoon nap. His nights had been getting longer and longer lately; he'd been spending time with Morgan, making Jesse's life at the compound as miserable as it could be, and trying to keep everything together. It was difficult, balancing his life with M.S.A.D. and the normal life he wanted to lead outside of it.

The alarm was raging at him and he knew he had to get up, but his body seemed to fight every movement he made to do so. It took a couple minutes of failed attempts before he managed to swing his arm over the alarm and shut it off. Of course, then the temptation was simply to let his head hit the pillow and say fuck it, but he had things to do. Things that would not be done, of course, until after Jake had consumed more than obscene amounts of coffee laced with diabetes-inducing levels of sugar.

Eventually he rolled himself out of bed and stepped into a pair of pajama pants, then ran his hand back through his hair and headed downstairs. (Unlike Jahel, Jake thought he looked rather charming with bed hair.) His feet fell heavily on the stairs and he thought he could hear music, but where it was coming from, he couldn't tell. He ignored it, jumping the last three stairs in hopes that it would get him to the kitchen faster. It didn't, considering he nearly fell, and he cursed his equilibrium for not waking up at the same time he did. Granted, he could hardly be considered awake at this ridiculous hour.

Once he made it to the kitchen, he collapsed against the counter near the coffee maker, disappointed to see that no one had started it yet. Grumbling to himself, Jake began sloppily yanking the filters and the coffee out of the cabinets in order to rectify this. He spilled some water and stubbed his toe in the process, but once the coffee was brewing, he felt slightly better. Just a few minutes of waiting and--yawn--the counter looked awfully cozy. Jake leaned over it and folded his arms under his head. If he could just close his eyes for a few sec--Was that Jahel?

Jake blinked blearily and lifted his head, confirming that yes, the voice he heard did indeed belong to Jahel. "Hey." He grunted in reply, wondering how the other man could look so put together so early. It never occurred to Jake that if he went to bed at a proper time, like sometime before 5am, that he might be able to function in the mornings. He glanced again at the coffee maker, a quarter of the way full by now, and busied himself with grabbing a mug. "Ugh, you want coffee?" And to think, this is how he acts when he isn't hungover.

He dragged the container of sugar over and began scooping an unhealthy amount into the mug. He snorted at the compliment, assuming it was sarcastic, because he was sure there were bags under his eyes and his pants were wrinkled, but at least he looked good without a shirt. "Thanks. So d'you, but that's nothin' new." His southern accent was always thicker in the mornings, when he couldn't be arsed to counteract it. Jake would be lying through his teeth if he said that he wasn't attracted to Jahel, not only because of his looks, but because of his similarities to Gabe. And flirting is just one of the things Jake does without even thinking about it.

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[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

The sound of scraping chair-legs over the kitchen floor broke the morning quiet. Jahel plopped down right next to Jake, his morning hunger sated for now, his light gray-blue eyes searching his face as though waiting for something. His power was sleeping for now but still very present, taking the form of a light jittery-ness that crawled up Jake’s skin and settled into his insides. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Maybe uncomfortable, for some – alien – but not bad.

Jahel smiled but it was drowned out by the intensity of his eyes. ”What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, the nickname rolling out of his mouth fluently; he called everyone that whenever he felt the urge to. ”Why don’t I take care of that coffee for you? You seem disadvantaged so early this morning. – Not that you’d look any less lovely passed out on the counter.”

To be fair, Jahel’s affinity for mornings could be called unnatural. Unlike Jake, who, from Jahel’s point of view, looked casually ruffled from a good night’s rest. He had a sweet guy-next-door look, as he recalled, a mundane but enthralling charm. He remembered now Gabriel’s intimacy towards the kid, but something seemed to have happened between then and the time Jahel spent resisting being forced to move in a dog-infested house. He’d yet to have as many opportunities to speak to Gabriel’s former lady, but now he could see traces of their disagreement on him– like fingerprints molding his supple, firm, and very attractive skin.

Leaning his head towards Jake to gaze into his coffee cup, he let out a slight grunt and a quirk of his eyebrows.

”If it wakes you up in the morning,” he chuckled (a rumble deep in his throat), referring to the load of sugar he’d decided to inject into his system.

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[Jacob Lawrence]

Jake snorted at the nickname, then rubbed at his eyes and fixed Jahel with a rather lazy smile. "It's jus' early." He whined, propping his chin in his hand to keep his head from hitting the counter in the throes of his morning lethargy. If Jake had his way, the day wouldn't start until after 1pm, until after he'd gotten a decent amount of sleep without having to readjust his late bedtimes. "And the coffee maker is too slow." He shot it another glare, as if that would somehow speed up the brewing process.

His focus changed, his eyes darting across the room to the chairs, then back to Jahel. As much as he would have rather just slid right up onto Jahel's lap, he instead pushed himself away from the counter to go fetch a chair. He grumbled that he hadn't thought of that sooner, but it didn't matter as he slid it up next to Jahel and collapsed into it. "How do you function so early?" He blinked rapidly for a moment, clearing his eyes, then looked at Jahel scrutinizingly as if he could read the answer somewhere on his handsome face.

He laughed softly when Jahel remarked at the amount of sugar in the cup and shrugged his shoulders. "It sorta helps." Sure, he'd heard that exercise was a better way to wake up in the morning, but Jake loved his sugary coffee far too much to give it up. (And his favorite sort of exercise was a bit harder to come by in the mornings now that it wasn't commonplace for him to share Gabe's bed. It was slightly more suspicious if he came home late morning after a night away, rather than to come home at some obscene hour of the morning.)

And then his head sagged onto Jahel's shoulder, no longer caring about personal space, and he fought to keep his eyes open.

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[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

Jahel’s hand came up around Jake’s opposite shoulder without even missing a beat. Giving him a casual pat on his arm followed by a not-so-casual squeeze and then finally a slow, soft rubbing, he quickly took control as though he’d just been waiting for Jake to hand him the reins. The latent power running through his veins shuddered through Jake’s skin in varying degrees. It melded subtly inside his arm, present but just barely felt, melding with the beat of his heart.

”Just early,” he repeated, his voice so deep it seemed to vibrate in such close proximity. ”You know, Jacob, you’re not the same that I remember. Now, I’m not gonna pretend that I knew you so well I’d be able to tell much of a difference, but the simple fact that I can should be worth looking into.” Before he’d only known him as M.S.A.D’s somewhat unofficial righthand man, but hadn’t delved much deeper than that. He’d expressed some surprise, though, when he discovered a man like Gabriel taking a liking to anyone in such an intimate matter.
Jahel drew back as though to take in more of his face, his eyes briefly looking him up and down. ”Makes me wish we could go back to the times when it was all about power and less about te quiero apasionadamente going about everywhere like the flu. Don’ you think so, babe?”

The side of his mouth crimped in a sideways smirk. He looked up, glancing at the coffee-maker bubbling away, the smell of it finally permeating the room. Turning his head his light gaze fell on Jake instead, the same small, wry smile on his face.

”Maybe you'd better go back to bed. Get some more sleep. I gotta say I lied to you.” He gave his shoulder one last pat. ”Y’look like shit.”

Jahel chuckled (the sound rumbling in his throat) indicating that he’d just been a tease, and made to lift out of his seat.

[Jacob Lawrence]

Being the tactile type of person that he is, Jahel's half-embrace had Jake feeling even more drowsy. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss waking up next to a warm body every morning and even if he and Jahel weren't that close, it was still a nice feeling.

The deep rumble of Jahel's voice was almost enough to send him off to sleep, but Jake managed to sit himself upright before that happened, only to laugh at his words. "That obvious, is it? I suppose I do have a lot on my mind lately." And that, my friends, was perhaps the understatement of the year. Jake was normally rather laid back, collected, and confident (some would even say lazy) but as of late his mind had been working nonstop. It was only around Morgan that he could settle back into himself and he supposed it was starting to get rather obvious.

"Believe me, I'd give anything for things to go back to the way they were." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and broke into a yawn, sinking back down into the chair. He missed the days where he knew his place inside the organization, missed being Gabriel's favorite, missed the days when things weren't so complicated. Jesse had been the start of things going wrong, but Jake had only made it worse by involving himself with Morgan.

Another glance at the coffee maker provided him with a smile; it was nearly done. And then Jahel said he looked like shit and Jake just huffed. "Yeah, yeah, I know, don't rub it in." He stretched his arms up over his head and yawned again, glad that he was finally starting to wake up mentally as well as physically. "And I'd kill for a vacation."

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[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

”Oh Jacob,” Jahel said, his hands on his knees as he stared at the coffeemaker. ”Everyone knows about that.”

And then he shot him an indecipherable look that was neither accusing nor gratifying, but something else entirely.

”Vacation’s not gonna get you any good,” he said. ”It’s time to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart. You could kill him. There’s plenty of witnesses to see; everyone to triumph in your glory as you strike him down.” His eyebrow quirked. ”If you think about it, why should it make a difference? We’re all criminals here. And think of how his new boy would look when he’s gone an’ all that he’s got left to remind him of the good times is you and, I don’t know, whoever you’ve got now. Two birds with one stone, that.”

Jahel paused. His eyes wandered over Jake’s head for a split second, as though in idle thought, before they refocused on the other man’s face. A warm smile touched his lips again; reverting back to his old, default, charming self. ”No? Too extreme for you? I suppose it wouldn’t serve much purpose. But in your case, well…” Jahel chuckled. ”I guess it’s ‘cause you still like that old snake.”

Unsatisfied with the coffee’s progress, he stood back up, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. His fingers lightly scratched his head, all his weight shifted on one side casually; Jahel took the time to adjust his shirt collar before moving on.

”What I’m trying to make clear here, Jake, is how much I hate wafflers like you. Maybe you don’t like the thought of anyone getting hurt and I understand that. Didn’t think you’d be the type.” He snorted. ”That was a joke. Nevermind. But what you should be doing is getting something done and quitting this female drama shit. You and Gabe both. This isn’t Gossip Girls, honey; the rest of us have ambitions to achieve and we haven’t seen much from either of you except the occasional break-up or some sloppy romance. Face it. You two are meant for each other. Now get back with him and spare the rest of us.”

He plopped down a mug of coffee in front of Jake. His hand ruffled his blonde hair.

”Figure this out or I’m gonna kill one of you.”

[Jacob Lawrence]

Jake blinked and lifted his head to look at Jahel while he spoke, shaking his head dismissively. He would never wish any harm on Gabriel, he still loved the man, and the thought of killing him had never even crossed his mind. Killing in general was something Jake had avoided thus far. He wasn't afraid to use force, if need be, but so far nothing had ever been lethal.

Jesse was the first person Jacob had ever wanted to kill.

"I'd rather kill that whiny little bitch of his." He grunted, then let his head hang back over the back of the chair, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Jahel might have been right in what he was saying and, had Jake not been so ruled by his emotions, he probably would have agreed with him. But Jake's heart often won out over his brain and he was conflicted. It might have been easier if he hadn't started caring for Morgan so strongly, but he was still quite convinced that he'd never be back with Gabe again.

He heaved out a long sigh, his eyes slipping closed as Jahel's fingers dragged through his hair. "I wish it was that simple. He's so wrapped up in that rat, Jesse, that it's like I might as well not even be here." He looked at the mug, as if that held the answer, before wrapping his fingers around it and feeling the heat of the coffee inside. "Thanks." He grunted before lifting it to his lips and taking a sip, hissing pleasantly as it slipped down his throat.

Was he bitter? Yes. Jealous? Definitely. "I fuck up one time..." he paused, frowned, then corrected himself, "Two times and he goes and replaces me." Jake really hadn't talked about this with anyone except the dogs. He'd ranted and raved to an oblivious Ein and a sleepy Beta, but not a word to another human being about how he felt about everything that happened. He bit his tongue and swallowed the rest of his words; he didn't want to spill anything regarding Morgan, lest Gabe have bugged the house or something.

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[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

Jahel grunted and sat down next to him again. ”Well sometimes one time is all you need for our friend Gabriel. I woulda thought you of all people would’ve known that.” Reaching over he picked up Jake’s mug and took a big gulp of it, then set it down in front of Jake, wincing slightly as the hot liquid went down his throat. ”Don’t get me wrong, baby. Everyone makes mistakes. Just seems kinda strange t’me that I get over here and everyone’s arguin’ about who’s seeing who and that Gabe’s got some kid in his bed. You know? It’s ludicrous is what it is.”

Apparently (and suddenly) bored, Jahel turned away to fidget with the shirt collar around his neck. He parted his hair, scraping it into submission and tucking some behind his ears. ”…I don’t even like kids. They’ve got all those pimples on their faces. Wouldn’t want that where I sleep.” Jahel tilted his head to catch his reflection, then lifted his lip to make sure nothing was stuck in-between his teeth. ”Not at all.”

Jahel stopped, stock-still, as though a sudden thought occurred to him. Then he laughed, abruptly and loudly. ”Almost as bad as one of those goddamn dogs!”

Luckily that particular fit was short and he sobered up soon after, dropping his arms back on the counter; his mental state was usually sound and firm but sometimes one could see the cracks slipping through on a good day. He got bored easily and impatient fast as though he constantly needed stimulation. His temper switched from lackadaisical to violent in seconds – his voice, usually slow and deep, often starkly contrasted the veiled threats that flowed out of his mouth. He was a sophisticated conversationalist when it suited him, but the sharp-witted observer could see that he wore that sophistication like a sheep’s skin. Of course, it took time to get to know him that well. Many did not get that chance – for one reason or another.

Then he yawned. ”Ah…excuse me. I thought I’d woken up already.” He rubbed his face. ”So, Jake. Tell me. What’s it like being stuck at the bottom of the barrel?” Removing his hand from his face, he turned to give him a lazy smile. ”No, really. I feel bad for you. Anything that’d help you get over this would help me too. Maybe then I c’n start taking my job seriously.”

Jahel smiled, waiting. ”So. Anything I can – do for you?”

[Jacob Lawrence]

Studying Jahel was not a good task for this early morning. As long as Jake had known the man, there had been something that was... off about him, but he could never place what it was. There was just a coldness that clung to him, even when his voice and his touch were warm. Jake just couldn't figure it out.

Not that it was really important, at least not right now. He snorted when Jahel drank his coffee, but shrugged and folded his arms under his chin. "I know this sounds stupid, but have you ever been in love? It kinda messes you all up." He snorted, raking his hands back through his hair. He never would have thought he'd be saying those words at all, let alone to someone like Jahel. Everything really had been messed up ever since Gabe had broken up with him.

Jake merely rolled his eyes at Jahel's stab at the dogs. The man's dislike for them was well known the compound over, but Jake often shared his bed with Ein or Beta. They made good feet warmers, if nothing else. And the dogs always loved him, no matter how often he screwed up or did the wrong thing.

His nose wrinkled at being told he was the bottom of the barrel. In all his years of involvement with Gabriel, he'd never once been so far down the food chain. "Thanks for your pity." He said icily, then sighed and slumped forward. For a long few moments he was quiet, his eyes nearly closed, but focused on Jahel. "... you know, you're not half bad looking." Understatement of the century, dear Jake. "You might be able to help me out with something, so long as you promise to keep it quiet."

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[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

He would have written it off as a joke when it had first left Jake’s mouth, but his eyes and the tone of his voice told differently. Jahel paused. The wheels in his head were turning.

”Oh?” he asked. It was a low, soft sound, a deep growl in his throat. His light blue eyes, nearly translucent in the clear morning light, focused on Jacob’s face, analyzing first his eyes, then his mouth, or any trace of a twitching muscle - a batting eyelid, maybe – as though he thought he could connect the dots and find the lie underneath. ‘Help’ – it was not in Jahel’s intrinsic nature to ‘help’; unless, of course, he found some benefit in it as well. Jake himself was enough of a benefit, wasn’t he? He collected people like dollars, and he figured Jake had to be worth a pretty penny according to his own personal, metaphorical monetary system.

The wheels in his head stopped and then started in the other direction. ”Well, babe, I know I asked.” His bottom lip primped forward in a pout. ”I guess you realize what you’ve implied here. You said it yourself; one mistake and I could end up in the same position you are.” He paused. ”And believe me, I don’t want that.”

He gazed at him sideways. ”….ooor….do you just want some change for your laundry.”

[Jacob Lawrence]

Jake was really in no place to ask anyone for help. What he was doing, what he had been doing, was viewed as a threat to MSAD. Even if he told Morgan absolutely nothing about his true career, nothing about Gabe's plans, nothing at all, in Gabe's eyes he was fraternizing with the enemy. But, like it was an addiction, he just couldn't stop.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking at Jahel but not really seeing him. That the man was even offering to help was shocking, but to actually go through with it would be another thing altogether. He wouldn't specifically mention Morgan to Jahel, because that would be stupid beyond all his other mistakes combined. They might have been on the same team, but that meant very little in the long run. It was a constant struggle to be on top, to be closest to Gabriel's side, and Jake wasn't going to risk his already low position for anything else.

Reaching out, he set his finger on Jahel's lower lip, chuckling softly. "All I'm looking for is a distraction." His eyes closed for a moment and he sighed. "I should think you'd be very good at that. You're enough of one, as is." He ran his fingertip down Jahel's chin before pulling his hand away.

It was a risky move and nothing was there to indicate it would even work, but Jake would do anything to protect that sweet, innocent man. If he could throw Gabe off step, be it only a small amount, it would be worth it. "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to do it for nothing." That was how things worked around MSAD, a little tit for tat, and though Jake had enjoyed his reign as Gabe's number one for quite some time, it didn't mean he had forgotten all about that.

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