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There is a secret that Jake has kept for many, many years.
It’s a part of himself he’s never shared with his parents—but that isn’t very surprising, considering the less than ideal relationship he’s always had with them—and a part of himself he’s never even shared with his grandpa.
(Before he died, Jake would always get the feeling that the man already knew. Even still, he sort of regrets never telling Grandpa Portman now.)
The thing is, his secret isn’t… bad. Not in his own time at least. Jake had always been secure in the fact that if he ever told his parents or Grandpa Portman, they wouldn’t bat an eye or think any differently of him. He’d always known that if he’d ever made any real friends in Florida, he’d tell them in a heartbeat. It would be his own decision though, and Jake would first make sure that they would accept him before he told them.
So when Enoch (beautiful, dark-eyed Enoch) coolly says, without even bothering to glance up at him:
“if you want to stay because of Emma, don’t bother. She swore off romance decades ago, when she got her heart broken.”
...his response comes as a complete surprise to everyone, most of all himself.
“It’s not Emma. I… I don’t like girls that way.”
As soon as it slips out, Jake wants to stuff the words back into his mouth. What was he thinking? This isn’t 2016, and this boy clearly doesn’t like him as it is—he visibly cringes as the implications of that suddenly hit him. It’s 1943. Who knows what sort of mindset these kids were raised by?
That’s when the fear begins to creep on him. Because even in the early 2000s, most did not accept homosexuality. And if what he can recall from his History class is correct, people like him were… people like him were killed for being the way they were.
And Jake just outed himself.
In a time loop, in 1943.
While he’d been internally freaking out, his abrupt admission had sparked quite the reaction in both Enoch and Olive.
The fiery girl’s eyes had widened impossibly. Jake is a homosexual—oh, poor boy! She’d thought, frowning in sympathy. At least he’s safe here in the loop. Well… Miss Peregrine’s never discussed it, but that’s probably because none of us children ever needed the reassurance, since none are homosexuals. She’s a great woman, though, so I know she’ll support him.
Enoch had simply looked up, fixating on Jake in his confusion. It takes a long moment of the words to form meaning in the boy’s head. When they do, air becomes short supply and his lips fall apart only for a quiet whoosh to knock him completely breathless. In his next breath, he notices Jake’s panic.
Enoch’s expression softens and he immediately wants to sooth, but Olive cuts in before he can.
“What do you mean? Jake—are you a homosexual?”
The poor boy’s pale eyes are darting now. Enoch turns to Olive, his eyes hardened.
“Because—because that’s okay, you know! You’re in the loop, and none of us mind… I think? Well, Miss Peregrine’s a great woman, so she probably doesn’t. Well, the small children might, but that’s because they’ve only ever heard horrid things—but, but they’ll understand! If we tell them there’s nothing wrong with being—”
“Olive.”
The girl ceases her empty, increasingly anxious reassurances, and watches in slight horror as Enoch pushes back his chair and stands. It seems as though she doesn’t know whether she should be helping Jake against potential emotional harm or letting her crush do whatever he’s about to do.
Enoch doesn’t look at Olive. He walks over until he’s standing on the other side of his table, not too close to Jacob but so that the table isn’t separating them anymore, and softens again, involuntarily, at the sheer and utterly heartbreaking fear radiating off of the other boy.
“So you don’t like Emma,” he says, and Jake’s eyes snap to gage him warily. “Or girls. That’s alright, Jake.”
Rather than the dread that had filled him whilst Olive had attempted to reassure him, Jake feels something light bloom in his chest. “You—really? You’re okay with that?”
Enoch nods, “yeah.”
When Jake quirks his lips, preluding to a smile, he has to struggle to keep the eye contact going as a blush ghosts over his cheeks.
But of course, Jake notices it. It’s a nice corally pink colour that rests right over the apples of his cheeks, changing the shorter boy’s entire face. Enoch is, quite frankly, adorable when he is blushing.
From Enoch’s left, Olive sees it too. She can’t quite hold in a gasp—in all these decades, the boy with the unique peculiarity had never blushed so vividly, not even when he was sick. She wonders what it means, that Enoch is acting this way toward Jake—the way she’d always fantasised he would act toward her.
When Olive realises, she wants to hit herself in the head for not knowing sooner. The knowledge leaves a bittersweet taste in her mouth, though as she hurries out the door, she notices that it isn’t as bitter as she’d always subconsciously expected it would be. Instead, she’s surprised to find herself almost… excited. For Enoch, the boy she cares about probably the most out of anyone in the loop, to finally have a chance at happiness. Olive abruptly makes a turn for a specific room, suddenly eager to inform someone of the new development.
Neither of the boys notice her exit.
Eventually, Jake is the first to look away. He clears his throat shyly, and Enoch can’t help but crack a smile at the action—the American boy is so endearing at times.
“Thanks, Enoch. That’s… well, that’s a relief.” It seems like a thought suddenly strikes him at that moment, because suddenly an echo of the earlier panic is back in Jake’s eyes as he hurries to get a point out. “And just because I’m gay, it doesn’t mean I’m going to… do something! So you don’t have to worry about-uh, anything like that.”
Enoch presses his lips together. This is it. The defining moment.
“I’m not worried. You can—you can do something if you want.”
There. It’s out there now, and he wouldn’t take it back. Jake’s eyes are wide in surprise and locked onto Enoch’s now. “Are you sure?”
Enoch nods, then feels that it may not be enough, and says “yes.” The taller boy seems too uncertain, though, so Enoch crosses the distance between them himself and reaches up a hand. He touches Jake’s cheek, and when Jake shivers, eyelashes fluttering but warm, pale gaze unwavering on the other boy, he holds it gently, fingertips skirting along his jaw.
Both boys lean in. Their lips bump each other, blandly, but it sparks tingles in both of them, and they press together more firmly. Jake moves his arms to wrap around Enoch’s waist, pulling him tentatively closer, and Enoch brings his other hand up to rest, palm flat, over Jake’s chest. They barely begin to move their lips—a sweet, suckling motion initiated by Jake that’s reciprocated by Enoch relaxing his lips before latching fervently onto Jake’s bottom lip—before breaking apart.
It’s too overwhelming for a first kiss—this is evident in the way the boys are breathing heavily. They’re both hard, and only growing increasingly so as they feel the other’s breath hit their lips. Jake is tempted to pull Enoch closer, just so he can feel it better—but right now there’s a small, blissful smile on the shorter boy’s open lips, and Jake’s eyes are drawn to it. He ducks his head to press his own open mouth to it, not applying much pressure, and Enoch moans out loud at the heat and wetness of it.
Jake pulls away reluctantly, because this is so new, and he’d really rather not mess it up. Enoch opens his eyes, blinking in confusion, but what he sees on Jake’s face must reassure him, because he smiles contentedly at him. Jake regards him, astonished at what difference had come over the boy who’d been so cold toward him only moments prior.
“Sorry I was such an arse before.”
Jake blinks. Okay, it’s like Enoch just read his mind.
“You’re forgiven. I just, ah, can I ask—why?”
“I’m always an arse?”
“That’s not a real reason. You were especially asshole-y to me.”
“Fine… I was jealous.”
A burst of warm affection for the other boy colours Jake’s smile. “Well. At least now I know who you were jealous of.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“Hey—ow! At least now you also know that if I’m going to stay, it’s not gonna be because of Emma.”
Unnoticed from behind the slightly open door, Miss Peregrine stands regally and appraises the scene she’d just stumbled upon.
She watches until a slightly insecure Enoch is showing an enthusiastic Jake his peculiarity, making his dolls spar in a playful manner. Only when Jake kisses Enoch and tells him he is amazing and creepy at the same time (but that he doesn’t really mind; the creepy part is actually kind of hot) does she walk away, silent as hawk, smiling fondly and a little wistfully.
It was about time Enoch found peace within himself. And even if Abe couldn’t find true happiness here, maybe his grandson will be different.