#always so so happy to draw javid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jacobszhao · 2 years

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we-are-inevitable · 3 years

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so i'll try to talk refined // javid (ch. 1)

A/N: this is so self indulgent holy fuck

WARNINGS: implied sexual content, drunken flirting, one night stands

SUMMARY: It was supposed to be a one night stand. One night, one too many drinks, one stupid decision that wouldn't have an actual effect on anything David cared about, aside from giving him a much needed night off.

But, when his one night stand turns out to be a new every day part of his life for the foreseeable future, David has... some choices to make.

For starters: choose to ignore his obvious attraction to the muralist working in his library, or choose to face the challenge head on.

If only he knew how to navigate this plot twist.

Tag List: @tarantulas4davey @oof-musicals @panicky-pancakes (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Read On AO3!

David has never seen someone as gorgeous as the man sitting across from him at the bar.

Maybe that’s a somewhat straightforward statement. David has seen a lot of gorgeous people- he grew up in New York City, for crying out loud; he falls in love with someone new on the sidewalk every day, it seems. There’s just… something about this guy, though, that David is more than a little attracted to.

It’s probably his hair. David has always been a sucker for curls, and this guy’s hair is so curly on the ends- but he has a middle part, and his bangs-but-not-really-bangs are more wavy than curly, and it’s swooped back like some popular guy from the 90’s, or, like... Zayn Malik circa late 2014. Either way, David is loving it.

But that isn’t the only aspect of this guy that he’s loving.

For one, his eyes are the most striking golden brown that David has ever seen, and his tan skin is shining beautifully underneath the gaudy, in-your-face lights in the bar. If David stares hard enough, he can make out freckles dotting the expanse of his face, spread across a sharp jawline and even sharper cheekbones.

Needless to say, David is in love. Not literally, of course- David and ‘love’ don’t really mix well- but he’s never not going to be thinking about Random Guy in the Bar, so it’s kind of the same thing, right?

David almost considers going over to talk to him, but he falters. This is a... regular bar, probably, not one of the many gay bars David frequents, and he’s probably a straight guy with a low tolerance for getting hit on by dudes but, also, it’s 2021, and David is a little tipsy, so what’s really the harm in going over to talk to Random Guy? He might get punched, yeah, but David has taken worse. Much worse. There was that time in high school, when he kissed his boyfriend in the hall and was--

No, no, now is time to think happy thoughts, Tipsy David reminds himself.

Tipsy David is a lot braver than Sober David, and as he stands from his barstool and makes his way over to Random Guy, Tipsy David hopes that Sober David won’t have a black eye in the morning.

He takes in a deep breath as he approaches, but puts on a brave face as he comes up next to the guy. “Excuse me,” He starts, and pauses as the man whips around, eyes widening just slightly, and, oh, God, he’s even hotter up close. “I know this is a shot in the dark, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you how attractive you are,” David says, as nonchalantly as he’s able to, while he leans against the bar counter.

The man stays silent for a few moments, and David can practically see the gears turning in his mind- before he’s flashing a megawatt smile at David and saying, “Thanks, man. That means a lot.”

Oh, sweet Jesus, that accent is thick. It’s classic New York- like, classic classic. Old New York classic. Just this side of a stereotype, but oh so genuine, and David is living for it. His voice is really nice, too; not very deep, but gravelly and kind of rough and hoarse and oh, why was this guy blessed with perpetual perfect morning-voice? He sounds like he just woke up and rolled out of bed, so rough and gorgeous.

But that’s beside the point, because this guy is clearly not picking up what David is putting down. That’s alright. Maybe a bit disappointing, but it’s not like David had any high hopes anyway.

David gives a nod and a smirk, standing up straight. “Just telling the truth,” he replies easily, then slaps his hand gently on the bar. “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” The guy says, staring up at David. He opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but instead he just offers a smile and a nod.

David nods back, turning to walk away, feeling pretty good about the interaction. He wasn’t punched, and wasn’t rejected, and--

“Hey, wait,” The man’s voice stops him in his tracks. David turns with a raised brow, taking in the man’s appearance once more- hair, eyes, freckles, skin, jeans and a plain henley with the sleeves rolled to his forearms- and, finally, the guy speaks again. “You… You ain’t too bad yourself, y’know.”

David blinks, confused, until he takes a slow step forward. “That so?” He asks with a hint of a grin.

The guy nods, then crosses his arms. “‘Course. I ain’t the only pretty boy here.”

“Ooh, pretty boy. That’s a new one,” David smirks, then leans against the bar. “So, pretty boy, answer me this. What would you say if I asked to sit with you?”

“Well, I’d probably ask what you’re drinkin’,” The man responds, then gestures for David to sit on the bar stool next to him. “What would your answer be, hypothetically?”

David’s smile widens, and he makes a show of thinking for a moment before speaking. “Well, if a hot guy asked me what I was drinking, I’d probably say a Manhattan with bourbon,” He teases, taking his seat. “And what would pretty boy be drinking, hm?”

“Pretty boy has a name,” He counters with a playful smirk, “and pretty boy is on his second margarita.”

Before David can respond, the man raises a hand and turns to the bartender. “‘Ey, Racer, c’mere,” he calls out, and soon, the bright-eyed blond is walking over, leaning over the bar. “Bring me two tequila shots, and a Manhattan. Bourbon.”

“On it, Cowboy,” The bartender- Antonio, or so it says on his nametag- responds with a wink.

“Cowboy,” David repeats as Antonio leaves, turning his attention to the man beside him. “Pretty boy, cowboy… You have some interesting nicknames.”

“Technically, ‘pretty boy’ ain’t a nickname. You’re the only one who calls me that, sweetheart,” The man smirks, resting his elbow against the bar.

“What else can I call you, then?” David asks, raising a brow as he leans in a bit closer- far enough away to not be in the guy’s personal space, but close enough to still hear him clearly over the booming party playlist blaring in the background.

The guy shrugs, grinning easily, then winks as he looks back at David. “You could start with ‘Jack’,” He replies.

Jack.

Such a generic name, but somehow, it’s just become the most attractive name in the history of ever.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jack,” David says with a wide grin, holding out a hand. “The name’s David.”

Jack reaches out to take David’s hand and give it a shake, and, fuck, David swears he feels sparks. He doesn’t really have time to think about it, though, considering that Antonio is back with their drinks, and Jack is smiling at David like he’s the only thing that matters.

***

An hour passes, and David finds himself particularly buzzed after a few more drinks- courtesy of Jack, who has not once left his side. They’re both just this side of tipsy, both happy and bubbly underneath the flashing lights of the bar, and are already on their cooldown; nursing cold waters and a shared appetizer to come back to at least semi-sober before they have to part ways.

Maybe part ways.

Truth be told, David would follow Jack back to his apartment in a heartbeat if Jack asked him to.

Because, well, Jack is seriously attractive. Muscles for days, a laugh that’s to die for, and there’s an underlying softness to him; he’s an artist. An actual artist. He’s a freelancer; he has a dual degree in graphic design and studio art, so he paints and makes logos and designs business cards and does murals all over the city and, wow, David falls more and more in love every second. Jack even mentioned he was going to be doing some mural at one of the libraries in the city, which made David’s heart skip a beat. A literary themed mural, done by a hot guy… David might just have to leave his own little library and venture across the city to find it.

As the clock on the wall draws ever closer to 11 p.m., David bites his lip. He glances over at Jack, who is already looking at him, and when he sees the hungry look in Jack’s eyes, he smirks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘Cause you’re hot,” Jack says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, “and I’m wonderin’ what it’d take to leave here with ya.”

David takes in a shuddering breath, licking his lips. “All you need to do is answer a question.”

“Oh?” Jack asks, placing a hand on David’s thigh. “And what would that question be?”

David looks him dead in the eyes. They’re both silent, energy sparking and crackling between each other; Jack’s eyes are dark, dark, dark, and David has to actively resist the urge to give in and kiss him right there against the counter. Slowly, David leans in close, lips barely brushing against Jack’s ear as he asks, “Your place or mine?”

Somehow, between one moment and the next, Jack is dragging David up the three steps into his townhouse, and as soon as the door is shut and locked with a distinct click, Jack has David pushed against the wall.

Distantly, David remembers leaving the bar- one owned by Jack’s friends, presumably, considering the fact that Antonio the Bartender and Mr. Redhead Bouncer Man both whistled when Jack escorted David out by the hand. He remembers walking down the block and turning left, and remembers the weight of Jack’s palm against his own; oddly intimate for the acts they’re about to commit, but welcome nonetheless.

But David doesn’t have time to think about that. Not as he places both hands on Jack’s cheeks and kisses him with all the passion he possesses.

Kissing Jack is exactly what David thought it would be: hot, hungry, competitive, fierce. Jack is strong, but within a few seconds, David has Jack backed against the front door, boxing the smaller man in with his arms.

“Oh, fuck,” Jack gasps as David kisses his neck, gently working the skin with just the barest bite of teeth.

David pulls back, glancing down into Jack’s dark eyes. “That’s the plan,” He says with a smirk, before diving back in to kiss Jack. It’s filthy, it’s fucking amazing, and Jack’s hands are in his hair and on his stomach and reaching around to grope his ass, pulling David ever closer.

“We need to- Bed,” Jack rasps out, but makes no move to leave the position; especially not when he leans up and begins his attack on the column of Davey’s throat. Thank God Sarah has extra makeup at David’s apartment; he’ll need it for work. Hannah might fire him on the spot if he walks into the library looking like a 'harlot'.

David taps Jack’s hip, and Jack seems to get the memo. Without breaking contact with David’s skin, Jack jumps and wraps his legs securely around David’s hips; David moans with the contact, bracing Jack with his hands as he blindly carries the man through the apartment. Had it been any other situation, David would have stopped to look around; he’s always been a sucker for interior design, and Jack has good taste.

But now, David only has one idea in mind.

Jack pulls away and gestures to a dark door, and as David opens it, he’s met with Jack’s bedroom, complete with red LED lights around the perimeter of the ceiling. How fitting, he thinks as he walks forward and all but throws Jack onto the bed. David kneels between Jack’s legs and undoes Jack’s belt with a skillful hand- he’s not at all new at this, he knows what he’s doing- and within seconds, David has Jack’s stupid, threadbare henley up and over his head, tossed precariously to a random corner of the bedroom.

Two things happen at once.

First, Jack sits up, looking more vulnerable than he’s looked during the entire night, and second, David notices the two faded surgical scars on either side of his chest, right beneath his pecs.

For a moment, everything is silent as David’s gaze flicks back to Jack’s face. He looks him again, scans his chest, and his toned stomach, and his hip bones that are jutting out under the waistband of his jeans. He's caught in his own head, stricken by how fucking hot Jack is shirtless, and he must be stuck for a few too many seconds, because--

Jack clears his throat, an awkward little sound, but one that catches David’s attention nonetheless. David looks back down and makes eye contact with Jack, who takes in a deep breath and asks, “This… Is this still alright?”

David raises a brow, and breathes, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Before Jack can respond, David pulls off his own shirt and tosses it to the side, then leans back down and kisses Jack. His hands fine Jack’s hips and he gives a harsh squeeze, which makes Jack gasp and hurry to undo the button and zipper of David’s jeans.

David doesn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, he pushes Jack down into the mattress, kissing his neck, then moving to his chest, his abs, trailing lower and lower with every movement, until Jack is panting, whining, begging, until Jack is raising his hips, until Jack is pushing his jeans down.

Until Jack is gasping for breath, thighs bracketing David’s head, moaning a mantra of, “God, yes, David, please, more, more, oh, fuck.”

***

“David! Nice to see ya, hun. Did you enjoy your weekend off?”

David looks over his shoulder as he shuts the front door. His boss, Hannah, is waving him up to the front; he walks to the counter and nods, smiling as he runs a hand through his hair. “I really needed it, yeah. Thank you, Han.”

“Sweetheart, if you ever need a break, you just let me know, okay?” She shoots him a pointed look, and smiles gently. “Go clock in, hun. We got a shipment in the back that needs to be sorted and shelved.”

“Yes, ma’am,” David responds with a grin. He drops off his leather messenger bag behind the front desk, then types his number into the keypad to clock in and log into his account. Once he’s done, David walks to the storage room in the back and stares at the piles of books in front of him.

With a smile, he grabs the first stack. Hannah called him a ‘strange boy’ once, for the very same reason. Apparently, her old employees here at Duane Street Library in downtown all hated sorting day with a passion, but David finds it relaxing. It puts him in a good mood.

Not that he needs this to be in a good mood after Friday night.

David’s hands flex around the spine of a book at the thought. God, he needs to get that out of his head. It’s been, what, two days since then, but he’s still thinking about... Jack. He needs to let go; it’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again, right? David has no plans to go back to that bar; it was nice, but he only went because there was an event he wasn’t really interested in at the bar he usually goes to- a gay bar, with frequent drag shows and performers who know David by name. A bar that has Britney and Gaga blaring at all times, not one with classic rock.

But, well, that bar seemed like the perfect place for Jack No-Last-Name, and Jack No-Last-Name seemed to frequent it, so it’s highly unlikely that David is ever going to run into Jack No-Last-Name again. It’s a big city, and he’s just a guy from a one night stand that David desperately needed in order to give himself a release.

Figuratively and literally, he thinks.

Eugh. Gross.

Pushing Jack out of his mind, David starts stacking the books onto the rolling cart they keep in the corner. He tries to at least keep them organized- first by genre, then alphabetical- and once he has about forty books on the cart, he pulls it out into the main part of the building. He starts shelving the mystery section first; it’s closest to the storage room, and it’s fairly easy to figure everything out. This mystery section is fun; all of the book spines are hidden, as the books are shelved backwards, and the only tell is the initial of the author's name laminated on the shelves.

There is a sign next to the shelf that says, of course, if you’re looking for a specific book and don’t want to search, come find an employee, blah, blah, but for the most part their guests like this little fun thing they do. It is the mystery section, after all; it’s why they hide the titles, it’s why there’s a basket of books wrapped at the end, it’s why the wrapped books only have the author’s initials and a small, vague summary written on the back.

All very Pinterest-y ideas, but fun nonetheless.

Once all of those books are meticulously shelved, David moves onto nonfiction, and then fiction, and by the time he’s finished with A through G, he’s due for another trip back into storage. H through L follows, then M through Q, then R through Z. When he’s done with the actual alphabetized sections, he gets to start on the fun little pop-up sections throughout the library.

BookTok section; the books that TikTok has been raving about, as an effort to foster more online engagement.

Read with Pride; pride month section. Books about being queer, books about queer experiences, books with queer characters- the works.

Black Authors, Black Voices; a section that has been on display for a while, since the head of the Black Lives Matter movement, about anti-racism and being a better ally to marginalized communities.

There are a few more sections like this that he does; editing them, switching out new books in place of books that have lost traction, creating little fliers and informational cards for the tables… It’s all very nice, very niche, and very much David’s little ‘baby’- his special project. It’s why Hannah hired him; beforehand, she had been trying her hardest to modernize this little library, but she hadn’t been able to hit the nail on the head. In comes David Jacobs, a 24 year old college graduate/grad student with social media management experience and generalized knowledge of what ‘the youths’ are liking, needing a job to help pay his way through grad school…

Needless to say, Hannah basically lets David roam free and do what he needs to do. Of course, she checks off on everything he does, but the new layout and new areas and new ideas are all him.

And it’s working.

The activities that he’s coming up with are getting a lot of participation. Since coming in last year, David has been able to boost community engagement- which, in turn, boosted their annual funding, and they’ve been investing that money into upgrades. Better computers for the Media Center, better toys and activities and little knickknacks for the 'Kid’s Korner' section, better decor to make the library look more lively.

Hannah even mentioned bringing someone in to paint the kid’s section, and maybe even do a nice, Instagram-worthy mural in the Media Center, and--

“Oh, wonderful, you’re here early!”

At the sound of Hannah’s voice up front, David raises a brow. He’s near the back of the library now, and only has about ten more books to shelve, so he doesn’t bother going up to the front. He has a job to do anyway, so it’ll be fine. Distantly, though, he hears Hannah and someone laughing together, which makes David grin; Hannah is always laughing, either with someone or at someone. She’s sassy and snarky and kind of a bitch, but God, does David love her. He couldn’t imagine a better boss.

He focuses on the task at hand, deciding to take his time with it, just to let Hannah talk to whoever it is she’s talking to. Eventually, though, David pushes the cart back to the storage room and makes his way up to the front.

David rounds the corner with a smile and some pep in his step, though he stops in his tracks when he sees--

“David, this fine young man is gonna be painting our mural in the kids section!” Hannah says with a wide grin, and turns away from him. “This is David; he runs our Community Outreach programs and social media accounts, plus helps me with, y’know, sorting through the books,” Hannah explains.

She then turns to David, gesturing to the man next to her. “David, meet Jack Kelly. He’ll be in and out for the next few weeks.”

David and Jack finally make eye contact, and David sees the wide-eyed realization on Jack’s face.

“Hi,” David breathes, his hands clenching at his side.

Jack blinks. Hesitates, then raises his hand to wave. “...Hey.”

Hannah grins, and giggles between them as her hands clasp in front of her chest. “Oh, isn’t this just going to be great?”

That’s one way to put it, David thinks to himself, and by the flushed look on Jack’s face, he’s probably thinking the same damn thing.

#newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #javid #javey #jack newsies #davey newsies #newsies musical #newsies live #livesies #newsies 1992 #92sies #ralbert #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #trans jack kelly #jac writes

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violetwolfraven · 3 years

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Peace and Joy

@spot-king-of-brooklyn I’m your secret Santa! @newsies-secretsanta

You said your favorite ships are sprace and/or javid and you’re good with pretty much anything so I’m gonna write two separate vaguely holiday-related oneshots in the reincarnation AU. Don’t worry though nothing heavy, just fluff. No COVID because I’ve had enough of that dude and I say so. Enjoy! Happy Holidays!

Tw: referenced past period-typical homophobia.

...

Spot couldn’t remember being this happy... ever. Not in the early 1900s or in the early 2000s.

Well, the closest he could think of was 1902, when he and Race moved on from being newsies and from being leaders of their respective boroughs and rented that old apartment in Brooklyn together. But that had been muted by the need to be careful. They couldn’t be normal young people in love because they always had to hide.

And that was fine at the time because it was expected. It was them doing whatever it took to be together not knowing they’d ever get the chance to do it another way.

Now, in the bright, beautiful, forward-thinking 21st century, they could be safe. They could be in love without fear of the consequences. They could go out Christmas shopping together, and Spot didn’t know if that counted as a date, but it kind of felt like one as he watched his boyfriend bop a little to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You as he looked around.

He ended up having to look away before he started blushing too hard. Even if he wasn’t the King of Brooklyn this time, he still had a bit of a reputation as a stone cold badass. For all he knew, one or more of their more mischievous friends could be spying on them right now. And besides, this thrift store probably had stuff he could get the few Brooklyn kids who’d come back, too.

He was still deciding if Hotshot would think it was funny if he got him a tank top that said ‘hot stuff’ on it. The others would find it funny, but Spot honestly wasn’t sure if it would make his former second uncomfortable.

“Hey, Spottie, ya think my little brother would like this?”

Spot turned back to see Race holding up a bright purple worm on a string, but a giant version of one. One that was big enough to be a scarf.

“Knowin’ your family,” he admitted, “I think any of ‘em would be happy to get one of those.”

It was true. Honestly, the most sensible Larkin brother was the second-oldest, Crutchie, but Spot could still see him proudly wearing a worm-on-a-string-scarf to school after winter break ended.

Besides him, Medda, Race’s mom, tended to embrace whatever unique fashion choice she could find. And Jack, of course, didn’t let being the oldest of four stop him from being a theatrical little shit who liked drawing attention to himself.

And Romeo was somehow even more eccentric than Race, so he would definitely like that thing.

Race grinned, “I’m gonna get Ro a worm scarf for Christmas.”

“Your family is ridiculous.”

“Thank you. So, what’re ya gettin’ for Denton?”

Oh, shit. Spot had completely forgotten about getting anything for Denton.

He really should get something for him. After all, the teacher hadn’t even known Spot when Jack asked if he could stay with him. All he’d needed to know was that Spot needed a place to hide from his terrible parents and couldn’t stay with the Larkins, mostly because Medda had a strict rule about her boys’ partners sleeping over unless it was absolutely necessary. (it was also because Spot couldn’t think of anyone he’d want to live with less than Jack Kelly, but Denton didn’t really need to know that, did he?)

So far, Spot’s parents hadn’t shown any signs of missing him, and Spot couldn’t decide if that hurt or not, but it barely mattered anymore.

Because Denton didn’t really have any rules beyond ‘do your homework’, ‘take a shower occassionally’, and ‘if you leave the house, let me know where you’re going.’ He helped Spot pick out a Halloween costume, let him spend Thanksgiving with Race, and gave him money for Christmas shopping. He was fine with Spot being gay and having a boyfriend, even if there was an added rule with that of ‘you can’t have the door closed if you’re alone in your room with Race.’

He gave Spot space, but also made it clear that he could come to him for anything he needed help with. He never hit him, never pushed when Spot wanted to be alone, never even raised his voice unless they were in an already-loud room and he needed to get his attention.

In short, in only a few months, he’d become the best adult Spot had ever had in his life. He wasn’t his father, but he was closest thing Spot had ever gotten to a dad.

The Denton they’d known in their last life had been kind of like that, too. He’d helped as best he could whenever one of the newsies got into trouble, always being there for anyone who needed him since Kath first introduced her new reporter friend to her newsie friends. Of course, Spot hadn’t been living with Denton then, so he’d never really thought about it.

“What do you even get a middle-aged man for Christmas?”

Race shrugged, “Power tools?”

The idea of getting Denton power tools was so ridiculous that they both laughed.

“Uh... he’s a writer,” Race pointed out, “So... fancy pens?”

“Fancy pens? We’re at a thrift store, Racer.”

“Well we don’t gotta stay here forever. There’s a Barnes and Noble across the street.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, but Spot wasn’t sure about the whole ‘fancy pen’ thing. It seemed a little generic.

“Yooooo! Spot, check this out for Jack!”

He was holding up a bright blue sketchbook that said ‘Sketchy Bitch’ on the cover.

“Oh yeah, ya definitely have to get that for Cowboy.”

Spotting (no pun intended) something else on the shelf behind him, Spot grinned.

He had the perfect thing to get for the man who’d taken him in.

...

“This is gonna be so fuckin’ awesome.”

Davey snorted, “You’re way too excited ‘bout this, Jackie.”

He loved his boyfriend, but he had a tendency to get overenthusiastic about things.

Well, he loved that about Jack, too. And he loved being able to call him his boyfriend, now. That they didn’t need to hide this time.

He and Sarah had both been a little worried about their parents’ reaction, but it had turned out to be for nothing. They’d each gotten a t-shirt with their respective pride flag for the first night of Hanukkah, and Jack and Kath were always welcome to come over as long as at least one parent was home.

Davey loved Jack just as much in this lifetime as he had in his first, but it was different, not having to hide it. It was good different, but definitely different. Being able to be who they were and be in love and knowing that it was generally frowned upon to be homophobic now, at least where they lived.

And being able to do random shit that was romantic and fun as hell, but not something would even occur to most people to do.

After a sleepy conversation once Crutchie, Race, and Romeo had fallen asleep watching White Christmas (which Davey appreciated for the choreography in the dance numbers) one time about how there weren’t really any Hanukkah movies, Jack had collaborated with Kath to write a lesbian Hanukkah musical romcom to post to YouTube.

Objectively, it wasn’t that great. It was good for a movie made by a bunch of high school juniors, but they couldn’t afford good cameras or microphones or anything. Plus, it was appealing to a very niche audience, so Davey doubted this movie would get more than twenty views.

Still, it meant a lot that Jack was so excited about it, that he was working so hard on props and editing in the lighting and music for it so Kath and Saz could play Jewish lesbians fake-dating at a holiday party who fall in love. It was cute.

“It ain’t gonna win any awards,” Jack admitted, “But I think we’s got somethin’ good here!”

“We do,” Davey agreed.

Was he actually talking about the romcom starring his sister and her girlfriend? Partially. It was a pretty good movie for something produced by teenagers.

But they had something good there that wasn’t on the screen of Jack’s laptop, too.

Jack seemed to share those thoughts, with the way he was smiling.

“What’s with the look, mi amor?”

Davey rolled his eyes as the other boy put his arm around his waist.

“Like you don’t know, love,” he chuckled, “Remember the last time we did somethin’ like this? And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.’”

“Shh,” Jack shook his head, “Nope. We don’t talk about the latkes incident.”

“You mean when you almost burned down our tiny little kitchen trying to—“

“We don’t talk about it!”

Davey laughed. It was funny, how Jack couldn’t, in any lifetime, cook anything more complicated than like... chili or stew. While he could make something edible, he couldn’t make anything that was really considered good.

“Davey, love, luz de mi vida, it was literally over a hundred years ago, so stop. Bringin’. Up. The. Latkes. Incident!”

He punctuated the sentence by hitting Davey with one of his mom’s throw pillows.

“Okay, Jackie, I get it! Stop hitting me!”

“Fine,” Jack grinned, “I ain’t almost burned down a kitchen in over a century, babe. I thinks that’s a good record to have.”

“Most people never almost burn down a kitchen,” Davey pointed out, “I know I—wait, did you just call me ‘babe’?”

Jack was definitely not meeting his eyes to try to hide how he was blushing, “Uh... is that okay?”

Davey smirked. Jack didn’t get flustered that often, but it was adorable when he did.

And even if he had almost burned down their apartment, it had been cute back then, how he’d tried so hard to try to do something nice for Davey for the holiday season. It was cute now, too.

That was one thing that hadn’t changed through the decades, he guessed.

“It’s definitely okay, babe.”

...

“Spot, is this a... ‘Best Dad In The World’ mug?”

“...if you cry, I’m outta here.”

#newsies #newsies secret santa #btw i’m sorry i wrote in a nod to wormsies #i couldn’t help it #sprace #javid #javey #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #davey jacobs #reincarnation au #fluff #violet’s writing

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deliciouspeachpirate · 4 years

Note

How about number 7 from the fluff prompts for Javid? Btw I love your writing, it always makes me super happy!

A/N Hey there! Sorry this took me a bit. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting @justsomequeergirl! I’m so glad my writing makes you happy! I hope you enjoy this. Its almost 1,700 words or pure fluff and banter from these two sweethearts. I don’t think there are any warnings for it. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about your other requests! That goes for everyone who has requested something too. Have a great day/night! <3

“You’re an idiot.” “But you love me”

The last thing Davey Jacobs was expecting to have wake him up at who-knows-what-time o'clock a dripping wet Jack Kelly banging on his window. Okay actually it wasn't that surprising and it also wasn't the first time it had happened, but he still wasn't really ready for it that night. Groaning slightly and moving gently so as not to wake up Les, who had sleeping curled up in his arms, he stumbled over to the window while Jack bounced excitedly on his toes outside on the fire escape. Davey unlocked the window and pushed it open so that he could see whatever the hell it was Jack wanted at this time of night.

Before he even got his arms down from the window though, Jack was pulling him in by his night shirt and pressing their lips together in a fervent kiss. Davey blinked several times, surprised that Jack hadn't even said anything first or waited to be acknowledged, but he quickly melted into it as Jack pulled him further out so that his upper half was getting rained on. Jack pulled away just long enough to grab him under the arms and start to try and pull him out over the window sill and onto the fire escape, smiling winningly all the while. Once Davey had made it all the way over the ledge Jack's lips were on his again, this time pressing quick, sweet kisses over and over again that made Davey weak at the knees. Jack's arms were wrapped around him, seemingly pulling him closer by the second, and he was laughing into the kisses like he was crazy. Seeing as how he was kissing Davey senseless on the fire escape at one o'clock in the morning in the rain and still hadn't said anything about why he was there, it might have been slightly true.

Davey felt his legs giving out under him, letting Jack take all of his weight while he tried to get his wits about him so he could ask Jack what was going on. Jack was still laughing, cradling the back of Davey's head and drawing him in as close as he could to repeatedly kiss him with no end in sight. Davey finally managed to pull back, closing the window as quickly as he could without waking Les. When he turned back around he had to pause a minute to take in the sight in front of him. Jack's shoulders was shaking with laughter, eyes sparkling, his face split into the biggest smile he'd ever worn, hair dripping wet, and his striped undershirt clinging to his torso and making all his muscles stand out.

Davey stood their for a second leaning against the window sill watching Jack run his hands through his wet hair before huffing out a laugh and attempting to speak comprehensively.

"Jack wha-hat was that?" Davey was giggling a bit himself, still weak from Jack kissing him. "Come under eves or something so we don't get anymore wet!"

Jack laughed again, spinning around once before grabbing Davey and pulling him back into his arms and pressing their foreheads together. He stayed their quiet for a moment, letting the rain fall over them. Davey was about to ask him what was going on again when Jack finally spoke his first real words of the night.

"Dave, you ever just lying there not really asleep and then think of something? Like something you forgot or didn't realize?" Jack spoke just loud enough to be heard over the rain. His voice was full of a warmth that Davey couldn't exactly identify but knew had something to do with the passionate kisses from before and the way he felt with Jack's sturdy arms holding him.

"I mean yeah, sure...what's on your mind, Jackie?" Davey wasn't too worried for Jack. Yeah the situation wasn't really like the other times Jack had come to his window without notice for a midnight conversation or kiss on the fire escape but this certainly didn't seem like anything bad.

Jack huffed out a laughed before turning his head so his mouth was positioned by Davey's ear before muttering, "I realized that I am completely, totally, unbreakably in love with you." Jack pulled back a little to look Davey in the eyes before continuing.

"I mean at first I was real scared, Davey, cause kids like me don't end up with someone like you. An' I mean most people would probably say I shouldn't love ya at all, but I ain't gonna bring myself to care bout that because I mean just look at ya you'se perfect and I sure as hell ain't gonna just let ya go cuase some old geezer says I can't love you." Jack was shaking a little now, weather form emotion or the cold it wasn't quite clear, but he still clutched Davey to him like he was the most precocious thing in the world.

"Davey Jacobs, you own my whole heart an' I kinda realized that cause I was talking about ya to Crutchie and he was kinda like 'yeah Jack I know you love him now shut up' but then I realized I guess that lovin' you and being in love are two differnt things? Or I hadn't told ya that I loved you? I mean I- I know I have, but this is different and I kinda just needed you to know right now..." Jack trailed off, realizing that he had been rambling for a bit, and settled for intertwining Davey's hands in his and pressing a soft kiss to them while watching Davey for some kind of reaction.

"So- you mean to tell me...Jack you ran all the way here in the middle of the night WHILE IT WAS RANING none the less to tell me you loved me?"

"HEY, it was also to kiss you!" Jack said in fake outrage.

Davey full on laughed at him then, leaning his head against Jack's shoulder.

"Darling, you could have gotten sick!"

Jack snorted lightly, "too bad. Don't care. Wanted to see you."

"You're an idiot."

"Well yeah, but you love me."

"Jack Kelly, I am completely, unendingly, irrevocably, indescribably in love with you. You make me braver than I ever have been before, you make me feel safe, you are the first person who listens to me is willing to understand what's going on in my life. You make me realize that I am worth something and that I do deserve someone who loves me unconditionally. When I'm with you its like the that facts I thought mattered don't matter at all. You paint the world in so many colors that I didn't know existed before I met you. You treat me with the utmost respect and kindness and I. Love. You."

Davey punctuated each of the last words words with a kiss on Jack's cheek before landing a final lingering one on his lips.

Jack tried to smirk confidently up at him once they pulled back, but it turned into more of a dopey grin.

"That's a lot of words for being 'indescribably' in love with me. I'm not really sure I understood half of them," Jack chuckled, "sure was pretty though."

"Not as pretty as you," Davey hummed, tucking Jack's head to rest under his chin. Jack wiggled out of his grasp in mock surprise, finding Davey smirking above him.

"I'm sorry, but is David Jacobs flirting with me?"

"I mean, I guess it depends on whether it would convince you to kiss me again."

Davey's smirk was intoxicating and any witty comebacks Jack had on the tip of his tongue flew from his mind entirely and he surged forward to claim Davey's lips again. The only thought hammering away at his mind was Davey. The way his smile could light up a room, how thoughtful he was, how he snorted when he laughed to hard, the way his eyes would light up when he talked about something he was passionate about, everything. His boyfriend, his Davey. Jack still couldn't believe that he got to call him that.

Jack nipped at and flicked his tongue over Davey's lip, reveling in his little choked gasps. One of Davey's hands was tangled in his hair, pulling him in even closer, and the other was grasping his shirt like Jack was the only thing keeping him standing. If the way Davey stumbled back into the wall was anything to go by it was actually true. The two of them pulled back, gasping for breath and giggling at each other. Davey was the first one to recover. Sliding down to sit on the fire escape with his back against the brick wall, he wrapped his arm around Jack's waist and leaned his head against his shoulder sighing contentedly.

"I still can't believe you ran all the way over here in the rain to tell me you loved me."

"It was important information, Davey."

Davey huffed out a laugh and snuggled closer to Jack's side as the rain slowed to a light drizzle. "Yeah, but it could have waited till morning, right? I mean then we wouldn't be out on the fire escape soaking wet."

"I would have forgotten by morning," Jack joked, wrapping an arm around Davey and leaning their heads together.

Davey shook under him, laughing slightly. "I highly doubt that Jack."

"Okay well I wanted to tell you nowwww," Jack whined out, pulling Davey down so that he was laying half in his lap.

"Well now I'm all wet!" Davey stuck out his bottom lip and pouted up at him, moving his hand to play with some of Jack's hair.

Jack leaned down to press a quick kiss to Davey's forehead causing him to scrunch up his nose and whine in fake annoyance.

"Well that's too bad, Jacobs, I had to tell you I love you."

Davey hummed and leaned into the hand that was carding through his damp hair.

"Yeah, I love you too, Jack. You are going to get sick though."

Jack laughed gently, smiling down at his boyfriend and continued running his fingers through his hair, the other arm holding Davey securely on his lap. The two of them drifted off to sleep together on the fire escape. To say Davey was smug the next morning when the boys at the circulation gate were confused as to why Jack suddenly a runny nose and a slight cough would be an understatement, but that certainly doesn't mean he didn't mother hen Jack until he felt all better.

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #this is entirely fluff #like sickening amounts of fluff #i hope #please enjoy this guys!#sorry I haven't posted anything in a bit

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zacc-attacc · 4 years

Text

Nature: A Javid Oneshot

A/N: My first ever oneshot on this website! I hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count- 1.2k

Jack loved the open sky. He loved the stars, the sounds of nature, and everything in between. But, more than anything, it calmed him, something that not many things were able to do. As a kid, he had always dreamed of falling asleep under the stars every single night. And when he was bounced around in foster care, the night sky had been the one common variable. Always there, like a blanket. Luckily for Jack, Some of the Newsies had put together a camping trip in the woods near campus. They had tents (from the Dollar Tree, probably), a bunch of marshmallows, some hotdogs, and a whole lot of energy. And Jack? Jack an invite and a limited will to live. At least Davey would be there, which, to be honest, had its ups and downs.

Ups, because Davey was single-handedly the sweetest human alive and a fun dude to hang out with. And downs, because Davey was Mom Friend Supreme™ and also had an annoying tendency to make Jack’s normally stoic heart do a tap dance in his chest. Which really was inconvenient because Jack’s last relationship had ended only four weeks ago. It wasn’t a nasty breakup, he and Katherine were actually still friends, but the boys still expected him to be depressed about it. But Jack didn’t like to linger. He was upset for a few days, but now he was over it. Katherine obviously was as well, since she was seen going on a few coffee dates with some girl.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, he could be whoever he wanted to be because that’s just how it was with the Newsies.

Tonight, he could eat bargain hot dogs and s’ mores, and avoid the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the only man he couldn’t have; because god forbid David Jacobs dated a mess like him.

Jack knew exactly where he lay in David’s mind. He was a close friend, maybe a sort of Uncle to his future children with his perfect little life with his husband in the suburbs. David liked him well enough, but he would likely never love him. And Jack had tried to accept that, even though, thus far, it had only made it much worse.

“Ay! Jack! You packed?” Crutchie yelled from his lower bunk. Jack was stretched out on the top bunk, staring at a half-finished political cartoon for his class.

“Yeah… What time’d the guys say to be there?” Jack sat up, hitting his head on the low ceiling. He wasn’t even that tall and it managed to injure him on a daily basis.

“...In five minutes.”

“Shit-” Jack muttered, scrambling to jump down the bunk, only succeeding in hitting his head yet again on the ceiling. After hitting the floor in the heap, all Jack could hear was Crutchie’s cackles.

“Just kidding, It’s actually in 20- I just wanted to see your reaction,” Crutchie wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, real funny, Crutch,” Jack mumbled, rolling his eyes and smiling. As much as he loved his little brother, he, unfortunately, knew exactly how to get Jack riled up quite easily, which normally ended in Jack running into a wall or stabbing himself in the arm with a pen in a panic.

“S’funny to me,” Crutchie choked out, still laughing. Jack pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the assorted chip crumbs that had migrated from the shitty shag carpeting of his dorm onto his shirt.

“I know, I know,” Jack muttered, grabbing Crutchie’s crutch from the wall and handing them to him. Looking at his laughing face, Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Alright, let’s get a move on… You ready?” Jack shook his head while still grinning, snatching his duffle bag and Crutchie’s backpack from beside the door.

“Ay! I can carry that!" Crutchie protested, making a grab at the bag.

“Wow, brother dearest, won’t even let me carry a bag,” Jack joked, sticking out his tongue and popping into a dead sprint down the hallway.

“NOW THAT’S JUST UNCALLED FOR!” Crutchie yelled from the hallway.

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, STUPID HEAD!” Jack shouted back, slamming open the door for the stairs and sliding onto the railings down the flights. Once he reached the bottom, he pulled out his phone.

“Text RaceyBoi.”

“What would you like to say?” that stupid automated voice asked back, not fully human or robotic.

“‘Can you go walk Crutchie to the campsite? Left him for CPS reasons.’” CPS was not, in fact, Child Protective Services, but instead Crutchie Protection Squad.

Smiling to himself, Jack started walking towards the woods on the outskirts of campus. He thought he saw Kid Blink and Spot at one point, Heely-ing towards the woods. He couldn’t help but wonder how the wheels would hold up amongst all the vegetation, and quietly hoped he wouldn’t have to call an ambulance tonight.

“Hey, Jack!” came a familiar voice from behind him. His heart automatically deciding to kick into overdrive, Jack turned around to see none other than David Jacobs, grinning and clutching a duffle bag.

“Whaddup, Dave,” Jack grinned back, clapping the taller boy on the shoulder. Seriously, who gave him the right to be this tall? He was like a noodle with a head and arms.

“You heading down to the campsite?” Davey asked, falling into step with Jack.

“That’s the plan. Race is taking Crutchie so that idiot won’t try to carry his backpack again.”

“...You realize he can carry it perfectly fine, right?” Davey said, looking slightly confused.

“Yeah, but I just feel like doin’ something nice for him, y’ know?”

“You may be stupid at times, but you are a good brother, Jack Kelly,” Davey chuckled, taking off his hat and flipping it backward.

“Ey, now don’t get to tellin’ the boys that, I have a reputation as a jerk to keep,” Jack couldn’t stop smiling. Why couldn’t he stop smiling? He felt like someone had turned him into the fucking sun from the Teletubbies.

“I don’t think you could pass as a jerk if you tried,” Davey shrugged, looking into Jack’s eyes so he could get the point across. God, his eyes were brown. Beautiful, chocolatey, perfect brown.

“You would be surprised,” Jack said, tearing his eyes away.

Don’t let yourself get attached, dammit.

“Hey,” Davey stopped. Jack stopped too, staring at him. He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“Don’t… Don’t talk like that. I know you, Jackie. Okay? And you aren’t an asshole.”

“Jeez, David, only a few minutes into the trip and you’re already on the late-night talks-” Jack turned away, hoping Davey couldn’t see that he was blushing.

“I need to hear you say it, okay?” He turned Jack around, forcing him yet again to look into his eyes.

“Fine. I… I ain’t an asshole. Ya happy?” Jack bit his tongue forcefully. That almost physically pained him to say.

“Yeah. I… I’m sorry Jack,” Davey said. Jack still wasn’t looking at him.

“Don’t apologize for caring, Davey.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was late. The shitty fire that had taken them almost a full hour to make was burning low, and Jack had to keep prodding it with a random stick to keep it lit. Most of the boys had already retired to their tents and sleeping bags, and Davey was fast asleep on his chair. Race was the only one still out.

“Do you think we should wake him up?” Race said, tossing the remains of his s’more into the fire.

“What? Oh, nah, I’ll wake him up when I head in. Poor kid, being a pre-med student probably never sleeps,” Jack pointed out.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying out?” Race asked, standing up and stretching.

“‘Till I get tired,” Jack prodded the fire again, before throwing in another stick.

“Then he’ll be out here all night,” Race joked, cracking a smile.

“I’ll wake him up before then. Wouldn’t want him to get hypothermia or some shit.”

“It’s the middle of April, I highly doubt he’ll get hypothermia, Jack.”

“...Did Racetrack Higgins seriously just say an educated statement?”

“Goodnight-” Race turned away suddenly, seeming intent on changing the subject.

“YOU CAN’T CHANGE IT NOW, WE KNOW YOU’RE SMART,” Jack whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake any of the boys up (especially not Davey).

Race replied with his silence.

Sighing, Jack sat back in his chair. Not having any will to sleep, and nothing more to do, he grabbed out his sketchbook. Nature was always good for inspiration.

Well, it could’ve been nature, or it could’ve been Davey. Because, without even realizing it, Jack had started to sketch the sleeping boy’s figure. His right fist was supporting his cheek, his hat was half-tipped onto his face, shading it slightly. His legs were crossed, and his left arm was set on top of them.

Behind him was a backdrop of pine trees, and, even though that wasn’t the actual view, a full moon, and stars. So many stars. All spelling out little words of love in Spanish, Jack’s first language.

Precioso. Bonita. Perfecto.

His hair was mostly tucked under his cap. His eyes were softer when he slept. A ghost of a smile played at his lips.

Increíble.

Perfect.

Just as Jack was signing his name and dating the piece, Davey began to stir.

Quickly shutting the book, Jack simply stared up at the stars he could see despite the light pollution and thick trees.

“Hey, Jack, saw you drawing there,” Davey said, quietly.

“Oh- uh- yeah, just… lookin’ through some old pieces,” Jack stammered.

“Can I see?”

“Uh- no, this isn’t my graded stuff, it’s all just sketches-“

“Y’know, for an art student, you really don’t like showing your art.”

“Uh- Fine.” Jack gave up and strode across the fire to hand him the book. It was mostly drawings of the boys, maybe he wouldn’t look that far.

...Spoiler alert, he looked that far.

“...Is this me? Right back then, when I was sleeping?”

“Uh-“

“You really made me look better than I’ve ever seen myself.”

“Well, that’s how I see you,” Jack said before he could think about his words. Y’know, like a normal person who is trying to hide a massive crush that could end one of his best friendships.

“Th-that’s… how you see me?” Davey was blushing now. Blushing. Not disgusted.

“Uh… yeah. Y’see here, th-the moon behind ya, the way it… it focuses on you.” Jack said, kneeling by his chair and pointing to it.

You are digging your own grave, Jack Kelly.

“Jack, I… that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Davey was still blushing. He turned his face to Jack’s. He was so close…

“Well… I draw what I think, Dave, ‘cause words… they ain’t my strong suit,” Jack chuckled, pulling back. But Davey leaned forward.

“Your drawings don’t need words, Jack. But the artist of them… That is a man that deserves millions of words said about him.”

“D-Davey… Don’t. Please, don’t do this,” Jack shook his head, standing back up.

“Did I make you uncomfortable? I- I’m sorry, I thought that we-“

“No, David. You didn’t. That’s the exact issue! D-d’ya really think I want to end up breaking your heart? We… We can’t do this, ‘cause it’ll end with me hurting you just like I have a million people! And you don’t deserve that fate! You’re too good for me, David,” Jack might’ve been crying. He wasn’t sure. But he sure as hell was ranting.

“Jack-“

“Don’t Jack me, don’t try to act like it could be any different. We know exactly how this is going to end, and I- I can’t stand losing you, Dave.”

There was a moment of silence. It was obvious Davey was picking his next words carefully.

“You won’t.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You won’t because I won’t let it, Jack Kelly. I won’t let you lose me as a friend, ever. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“Da-“

In two strides, Davey crossed the circle of chairs and shut Jack up with a kiss, half-crushing him with how tightly he was holding him.

He did this… this thing that made it obvious this wasn’t his first kiss. The way he moved his head up and down just a little bit. The way he seemed all in but ready to pull away if they needed to at any second.

But more than anything, there was a definitive Davey-ness to him that made it all perfect.

So Jack had found one more reason to like nature. It was where he shared his first-ever kiss with his boyfriend, David Jacobs.

#javid #javid fanfiction #jack x davey #jack kelly #newsies #david jacobs #racetrack higgins #newsies the broadway musical #musicals #musical fics #oneshot #dice writes

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smallrunningmachine · 4 years

Text

Who in your ship complains endlessly about going camping while watching their overly enthusiastic SO going about setting up the tent and stuff and who is the HYPED SO?

(Disclaimer: I do not ship all of these myself, but I know that people do, so I included them.)

Javid

Jack freaking loves camping. Davey doesn't really like it but he loves watching Jack look incredibly happy while he runs around setting up because he's so adorable when he's happy. Davey likes to take photos and show them to Jack though, and Jack loves admiring his incredibly talented bf's work

Jackcrutchie

Once again, Jack is crazy about camping. He loves to carry Crutchie into their tent bridal style and Crutchie thinks it's great. Plus, Crutchie is the sort of s'more cook who c a r e f u l l y toasts one (1) marshmallow over several minutes while Jack lights his on fire and laughs like a maniac

Jatherine

Kath actually enjoys camping and so does Jack, but Jack is the really hyped one. Kath really loves just cuddling under the stars and lighting marshmallows on fire

Jack/Sarah

Sarah tends to be kind of nervous on camping trips but once Jack asks her to teach him a recipe she feels a bit happier. She also loves looking at Jack's drawings while they're camping and hearing Jack tell her the stories behind them

Sprace

Race would live in a tent if he could. Spot likes the woods in theory, but then he remembers the bugs. But he loves watching Race rush around and chatter nonstop about how excited he is and so he finally gives in and helps. They always make time to go swimming together and they both enjoy that so that's their common ground

Newsbians

Sarah is kind of apprehensive at first but once she sees how happy it makes Kath she throws herself into it. Plus, someone has to cook food and she's not running the risk of Kath starting a forest fire

Ralbert

Albert is firmly in the camp (ha ha) that "we should've gotten a camper". Race thinks his complaining is amusing because he knows Al is really watching him with heart eyes when his back is turned. And once he sees Al finding all the creatures fascinating he knows that's a two way street. They love to catch fireflies together and to just cuddle together and count the stars

Redfinch

Finch is crazy about camping. Albert doesn't like it much as we mentioned, but Finch's enthusiasm drags him into helping. Then he finds Finch sticks to make into slingshots and Finch thinks it's so heartwarming

Blush

Mush thinks camping is the greatest thing ever created. Blink originally tries to weasel out of coming along but when he sees Mush running around getting set up he melts and helps him. One time Blink almost steps on a road and it jumps in his face and he screams loud enough to send birds flying and Mush falls on the ground laughing

Spralbert

Race is clearly outvoted when they go camping but they all come to love just being able to be together. Spot and Al are constantly smiling while watching Race set up and chatter like a magpie about his plans for the weekend. After hushed conference, Al and Spot join in and let Race teach them what to do

Threes The Day

Jack is so happy about camping that Davey can't help but take a video of him scrambling around and chattering about how excited he is. Crutchie helps him move the camera and zoom in and out as necessary.

Ikeshot

Ike is a serial camper. Hotshot likes it all right but he loves to watch Ike doing what makes him happy. Finally, after much good-natured complaint, he joins in, and they usually spend the evenings cuddling in a hammock by the fire

#newsies #livesies #toursies #92sies #newsies 92 #newsies 1992 #newsies bway #newsies broadway #newsies the musical #newsies live #ain’t a snowball’s chance in hell I’m tagging all those ships #might add more later idk

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little-bit-of-cinnamon · 4 years

Text

I Just Hid it Better - Javid AU

Anything Javid love confession I’m a sucker for love confessions like either Davey confessing his love to Jack on accident (please) or “hand holding but it’s complicated”

Javid Modern AU - 2.3k words Jack sketches David as he sleeps

The sound of the door slamming woke David up from his nap on the couch. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes and sat up to see Jack setting his bag down by the door. He could see the guilt on Jack’s face when he realized he woke David up.

“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic frown.

“Nah, you’re good.” David repositioned so he was sitting properly. “Tough day?”

“It’s my stupid drawings class,” Jack started, moving into the living room. “It's already not my favorite because charcoal isn’t my medium-”

“Because you prefer oil paint.” David nodded.

“Because I prefer oil paint. And drawing with a group can’t be good for creativity or whatever, I mean how does it make sense to have one model in one pose and it’s just supposed to work for all thirty of us?” Jack sat next to David, kicking his feet onto David’s lap.

“It’s bad enough that we only do portraits, ya know?”

“Because you prefer landscapes.” David nodded, again.

“Because I prefer landscapes. It’s like, I like portraits, but I like drawing people I know, ya know. I feel like I can really get the mood right when I know what they’re like, what’s going on in their head.” At this point David wasn’t convinced Jack could actually hear him over his own rant.

“I wanna work on charcoal and I wanna work on portraits, it’s just that the class isn’t the best environment for me.” Jack took a slow breath. “I’m sorry, I woke you up. Tough day for you too?”

“Just tired.” David rested his head on the top of the couch cushion. “Work was long.”

“I’ll never understand how you get to work at 5:00 in the morning.”

“People need coffee in the morning and somebody has to serve it.” It was silent for a second before David spoke again. “You can draw me if you want.”

“You hate sitting for my art.” Jack said, surprised.

“I’m not gonna. But I am gonna take a nap, and if you happen to draw me that’ll be okay with me. We’ll see if you can draw what’s going on in my dream or whatever it is you’re looking to do.” David tapped Jack’s legs on his lap so Jack swung his legs back onto the floor and stood.

“Geez, Dave. Isn’t that a little intimate?” Jack joked, but he was already walking toward his bag with his sketchbook. “I mean, I didn’t mean it like,” David was relieved Jack had walked away and couldn’t see him blush.

“I know, Dave. Take your nap, you deserve it.” Jack settled on the floor with his back against their coffee table and his sketchbook in his lap. Surprisingly easily, David drifted off to sleep.

David woke up to a completed sketch on the coffee table and Jack cooking dinner in the kitchen. With a yawn and a stretch David stood up and wandered into the kitchen, he sat on the counter and kicked his foot out to nudge Jack. “Whatcha making?”

Jack turned and grabbed David’s head and gave him an exaggerated kiss on the forehead. “Stir fry!” He said with a smile.

“Damn, you’re excited, must be the one from Trader Joes.” “No, it’s just,” Jack waved a wooden spoon as he spoke. “I’m just really happy with how my sketch came out and I actually feel really good about my drawings class now. I mean, I have to keep up the practicing outside of class so I don’t get stuck in a rut again-” “But you’re feeling better?” David filled in.

“But I’m feeling better!” Jack turned the stove off and took two plates out of the cabinet. He served two plates of the stir fry before joining David on the counter top. “Thanks for letting me sketch you,” “I literally just took a nap on the couch, but I’m glad you got your groove back. Thanks for dinner.” David was always willing to help out, well, he hated sitting for Jack’s art. Just sitting here for as long as it took for Jack to either finish or get bored, hours. But if all he had to do was nap on his couch after his six hour opening shift, well that wasn’t a bad deal.

The next few days were business as usual until Jack’s next class and David’s next shift. David came home, got changed, and took his place on the couch. He scrolled through Instagram, attempting to stay awake but the fatigue from his early shift and long work day caught up to him.

This time, he woke up to Jack on the couch beside him and Netflix playing quietly on the TV in front of them. When David stretched his arms out he accidently hit Jack on the chest. “You’re up!” Jack turned the volume of the TV up.

“I’m up.” David sat up so he was sitting next to Jack, rather than lying with his head by Jack’s lap. “How was class?”

“A lot better than last time. Obviously it’s still not my favorite but it’s not a drag anymore.” Jack pulled some of David’s blanket over his own legs.

“That’s great, Jack.” They settled into a comfortable silence for a while, ordering a pizza for dinner and watching Netflix until the evening. Eventually, Jack left to take a shower and David noticed his sketchbook sitting on the coffee table, again.

He picked it up and began flipping through the pages, Jack never was secretive of his work. There was a mixture of drawings of his friends and models from class and they were all amazing, David would be the first to tell you how talented Jack is, but David could tell the difference. He could see the love and concentration on the sketch Race’s face as he worked out a problem in his notebook.

The sketches of the models were more technical. Each stroke looked calculated, precise. It looked incredible, but in comparison it just wasn’t the same. David flipped the page and there was the drawing of him from earlier in the week. He looked peaceful, calm. David was surprised by how… nice he looked. He always thought Jack’s art presented David as much more attractive than any photo. It was probably just Jack being nice and not including his imperfections.

The next page was another model, from class today. Again, beautiful but with less emotion than the ones of David and their friends. David was about to set the book down when he noticed there was another sketch on the next page.

It was David. Asleep on the couch with his phone resting next to him. Asleep. David didn’t know Jack was going to sketch him again. He wasn’t like, weirded out or anything but he was a little surprised. He figured Jack would prefer a more interesting subject than a sleeping David. But, still, he looked better than David saw himself. It was a beautiful sketch.

“Sorry, I hope it was cool that I sketched you again.” Jack stood in the doorway of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

“No, it’s no problem. I figured you’d want a more interesting subject now that you’re more inspired, or whatever.” Jack walked into his room to get dressed as David spoke.

“Dave, I got all the inspiration I need sleeping on my couch everyday.” David pretended that his heart didn’t skip a beat.

“That so?” David managed to squeak out.

“Yeah, Dave.” Jack came back, dressed, using his towel to dry his hair. “I mean I know you so well I feel like I always know what’s going through your head, conscious or not.”

David could practically feel his heart beating in his ears. He hoped Jack couldn’t tell what was going on in his head at this particular moment.

“It doesn’t hurt that you got a nice face to draw, too.” Jack wandered into the kitchen, casually looking in the fridge, as if he isn’t making David’s heart go a mile a minute.

David wanted to smile, to tease Jack as they’ve been doing for years but for some reason he was nervous. He couldn’t get the words out. Something about the compliments, the vulnerability, the emotion in the art. He just felt different than he usually did with Jack. Flirting isn’t uncommon in their friend group but Jack sounded genuine and David could tell he was speaking differently than he usually would with the guys.

But it was getting late and he was tired, he’ll probably feel differently in the morning.

“Good night, Jack.” David stood up and stopped in the kitchen for a bottle of water.

“You alright, Davey?” “Yeah, work in the morning, that’s all.”

“Good night, then.” David couldn’t see the way Jack watched him walk into his room, a concerned look on his face.

Work. Home. Change. Nap.

David got tired of the routine but he needed the money, and he liked his job, really. Good coworkers and regulars he could chat with. It wasn’t all bad. When his classes change next semester he’ll get new shifts and all will be well.

David had hardly woken up when he saw Jack. “Hey,” David said softly, voice low from his drowsiness.

“Hey, Dave. Sorry, I thought you’d be out for a little while longer.” Jack started to close his sketchbook.

“No, it’s okay, I love you.” And suddenly David was awake.

“I mean, I love it. Your art, I mean.” He lost control of the words coming out of his mouth.

“Don’t worry about it Davey, you’re tired. I get it.” Jack grinned.

“Yeah, tired. Sorry if I ruined your process or whatever.” “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure I could draw you with my eyes closed.” Jack continued his sketch.

He wasn’t making this any easier for David.

“You want some tea?” David wouldn't be able to get back to sleep now so he would at least need some caffeine in him. He knows Jack won’t touch coffee.

“Do we have peach?” Jack called to the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t have offered if we didn’t.” David turned the coffee pot and the kettle on before taking the tea out of the cabinet.

He leaned on the counter, looking into the living room. Jack was still sitting on the floor, sketching, even though David had left. He stood and watched him until the kettle began to whistle. He did love Jack, and so what if his feelings might be romantic? He and Jack have been friends forever, this can’t be the thing that brings them apart. Still, that doesn't mean that he should say anything to Jack, or say anything else, really.

He prepared their drinks and brought them into the living room, he set Jack’s mug beside him on the table, not wanting to disturb him further. As soon as David sat down Jack closed his sketchbook and joined David on the couch.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you lately, you’ve been working so much.” Jack sat dangerously close to David.

“The money’s good. I’m hoping if I keep up the hours next semester I could be a manager over the summer.” David sipped his drink slowly, taking in the heat.

“But I miss you, shouldn’t that be a consideration?” Jack took a sip. “This is good, Dave.”

“That’s the kind of good work that’s gonna land me the promotion. I’m scarily good at putting a tea bag into hot water.”

“Shut up and take the compliment.”

David didn’t realize he missed Jack too until they started talking again. Usually they would sit and eat together while watching TV or they would hang out in groups. He and Jack have been friends for years but he still missed him. Suddenly Jack seems far away. He wishes he could be closer to Jack, romantically. He wants to reach out and touch him, kiss him, love him.

But he doesn’t want to lose what they have. He’s probably worried about nothing, but still. He can’t just look to his best friend and say “hey I think I’m in love with you.” It was bad enough when he accidently let it slip. But maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing? Jack’s been single for a while and it’s not like he’ll be infringing on something. And Jack wouldn’t judge him, would he?

“Hey, Jack?” Jack hummed in acknowledgment as he sipped his tea.

“Earlier, when I-” “Don’t worry about it, Davey. You were tired and it’s not like I don’t love you too.” Jack leaned into David, bumping their shoulders together.

Jack really wasn’t making this easier.

‘Right, right. It’s just that, recently, I don’t know. I feel like I might be developing some… feelings. For you.” David stared into his mug, afraid to look up at Jack.

“You feel like you might maybe?” Jack said, cautiously but with a grin.

“Jack.”

“Right, sorry. You’re sure about this?” Jack looked to David.

“I felt like it would be better to just tell you, so it doesn’t affect our friendship.” David finally made eye contact with Jack.

“Actually, that’s not the best idea.”

David’s heart dropped.

“I mean,” Jack began, “our friendship is for sure gonna be different.” “Jack, I’m so sorry. I just-” Jack cut him off. “I mean kissing you stupid, that’s gonna affect our friendship. And going on dates and stuff.”

“Do you mean..?” David couldn’t finish his sentence, couldn’t get his brain all in one place.

“I mean I would do anything to be your boyfriend, Davey.” “I was so scared that I was gonna ruin everything.” Jack could hear the smile in David’s words.

“I’ve been scared to say something for years, you’re just braver than me.” Jack grinned back.

“Maybe changing our relationship up a bit won’t be the worst thing,” David said, leaning into Jack.

#Newsies #Javid #Jack Kelly #davey jacobs #modern javid #newsies fanfiction #Modern Newsies #twist writes

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thefactsofthematter · 4 years

Note

angst request: two lovers have been fighting to reunite for years. when they finally make it to each other, one is dying.

ohhhhhh boy. this request just spoke to me and oh my GOD this had me in genuine tears at the end and i’m the one writing it so,,, watch out y’all

post-canon, wwi era; javid; 2k; warning: gunshot wound, medical talk + hospital setting, major character death

When Davey sees Jack again for the first time in years, he doesn't even recognize him.

It's hard to believe it's been a whole ten years since Davey moved to Boston for school, and since Jack finally hopped on a train to Santa Fe. They went their separate ways, as even the best of friends or closest of lovers tend to eventually do. They meant to keep in touch— they really did— but none of the letters Davey wrote ever made it to Jack, or even to the mailbox for that matter.

He told himself it was because he didn't know Jack's new address, but maybe he was simply too heartbroken to bother reaching out.

"I'll be home every summer, and it's just for four years. If you think about it, that's not even very long."

Jack had just sighed and stared down at the train ticket in his hands. It had been hard enough, Davey doing his undergraduate's degree, here in New York. They never seemed to have any time for each other, and it was getting harder and harder to keep their relationship a secret. Now, with Davey headed all the way to Boston to go to medical school, things were bound to be even worse.

"So if you wanna go away and live your dream, it's fine, but when I wanna do it, I'm the bad guy?" The note of bitterness in Jack's voice had seemed insincere, as if he couldn't bring himself to actually be mad. "Maybe I'll only go for four years, then. We'll both come back to New York and find each other. If we write enough letters, maybe it'll be like we were never even apart."

Davey had just forced himself to laugh softly, while leaning into Jack's side to try and revel in every moment, as surely it'll be the last time they hold each other like this.

"Yeah, you're right." A lie. "We'll see each other again, I'm sure." Another lie. "I’ll love you forever, darling." Nothing but the truth.

The last place Davey expects to run into Jack is in a military hospital in France, in the midst of the Great War.

They hadn’t thought the war was going to be this long. When Davey had volunteered to go overseas as an army doctor, fairly early on in the war, the general consensus was that it surely wouldn’t last more than a few months. Now it’s 1917– Davey hasn’t seen his family in two years and the fighting just keeps barreling on. Every day, there’s a constant stream of young soldiers being carted in from the front lines with horrific injuries, and every day Davey has to put on a brave face and try to save their lives.

Jack isn’t the first of the newsies to come in— Davey has seen a handful of old friends and it’s bittersweet every time. The reunion is sometimes pleasant, but always difficult nonetheless: Albert had been missing an arm, Finch had been in agony from mustard gas burns, and the worst of it… Davey had been the one to call Elmer’s time of death. It was horrible and he hopes to never see another familiar face within these walls.

He’s jerked out of his thoughts by the wail of an ambulance drawing near outside— his two-minute coffee break is over and it’s time to jump back into action. He has mere moments to collect himself before the doors are slamming open and his world is back to chaos.

“Shot in the abdomen, already infected,” says one of the travelling field nurses, as they roll the patient in and Davey hurries to match their stride. She’s got a strong French accent and he struggles to make sense of what she says next— something about a fever and gangrene and septic shock, which makes Davey incredibly nervous.

“He’s in good hands,” is all he can think to reply with, as the resident hospital nurses take over and the field nurses head back out. He’s still fumbling to get his gloves on as they enter the operating room and he’s suddenly the one in charge.

Debridement, antisepsis, pack the wound. The three steps of trauma surgery are on a loop in Davey’s head as he takes in the situation.

“General anesthesia,” he orders. He can’t tell if the young man is actually conscious or not until a nurse’s hand gets too close to the bloody mess in the middle of his abdomen and there’s a quiet a groan of pain. “Start cutting his clothing away and cleaning around the wound.”

A fever. The field nurse had mentioned a fever, so he presses the back of his hand to the soldier’s forehead and winces at the heat that radiates from it. Shit.

That means the infection must be spreading, and she was probably right about sepsis, meaning as hard as they try, they might not be able to save him and—

He doesn’t even notice the patient’s eyes snapping open and staring up at him.

“Davey…?”

It’s hardly above a whisper and Davey almost doesn’t hear it. There’s a nurse about to put a mask over the soldier’s nose and mouth to put him under, but Davey quickly raises a hand, telling her to wait.

He watches the soldier’s face for a long moment, and then everything falls into place.

“Jack…” he whispers. “Oh god…”

Everyone has paused to watch them— his assistant and the two nurses— but Davey can’t stop himself from reaching out to carefully touch Jack’s face.

He’s changed— of course he has. They were hardly even adults yet when they last saw each other, and now they’re in their thirties. Jack had always liked his hair a bit long and messy on the top of his head, but he’s now got a close-cropped army cut, already greying just a little at the temples. His face is dirty and worn, but Davey can’t help but notice the smile-line wrinkles starting to form. At least that means he’s been happy in their decade apart.

This can’t be real. It can’t. There’s no way his first (and only) love is lying here on his goddamn operating table, dying of an infected bullet wound. Ten years apart and this is how they reunite… it isn’t fair.

“Remember when I told you I was gonna be a doctor someday?” he finally says, because it’s all he can do to keep from crying. Jack looks entirely disoriented, but he manages to crack a confused almost-smile at that. “You’re gonna be okay, Jackie. I’ve got you.”

And then he nods to the nurse, that she can go ahead and put Jack under, and he shoots a stern look to his assistant, a young doctor-in-training, telling him to keep working on the initial sterilization of the area around the bullet hole.

He’s gonna save Jack Kelly’s life, god damn it.

The surgery, miraculously, is a success.

The infection was somewhat milder than it had initially seemed, and Davey had managed to cut away minimal amounts of tissue and leave Jack relatively intact. Sure, he’s got a gaping wound packed with antiseptic-soaked gauze, but he’s alive and breathing with working organs, so Davey supposes he did his job.

It’s now a matter of hoping that Jack’s body can fight off what remains of the infection without going into shock— there’s nothing any doctor can do for him now.

It takes a couple of days before Davey has a free moment long enough to figure out where Jack’s bed is and actually have time for a visit. His shifts are back-to-back-to-back and he hardly gets a wink of sleep, but he finally manages to set aside some time in the afternoon for personal matters.

Jack is sleeping when Davey arrives. He’s in a room full of patients but his bed is tucked away in a corner, which at least affords them an illusion of privacy. Davey can’t help but check him for a fever, and his heart sinks a little when he realizes that Jack is burning up even worse than when he’d come in and sweating buckets. He carefully checks his pulse and winces at just how quick it is.

“Jack?” he whispers, trying to shake Jack awake as gently as possible. Slowly, his eyes peel open. “Hey… how are you feeling?”

Jack blinks several times and frowns in confusion, staring up at Davey. He seems out of it, as one might expect with being this sick and all. Davey can only hope he’ll at least be recognized.

“Dave…” Jack finally mumbles. “Am I dead? Are you… are you an angel?”

Davey can’t help but laugh softly as he takes a knee to get down closer to Jack’s level.

“No, no, it’s really me. You’re in the hospital— you got hurt pretty bad out there. Not really the best place to run into each other after all this time, is it?”

Jack sort of laughs, but doesn’t seem to have the energy for it. He smiles, at least, and Davey feels just as smitten as he did when he was seventeen.

“I’ve missed you,” sighs Jack, reaching weakly for Davey’s hand. He speaks slowly and somewhat slurred, but at least he’s conscious. “You… you said you were gonna be a doctor. Look at you— smart fella, I always knew it.”

There’s a lump in Davey’s throat as he takes Jack’s hand— it’s cold, another sign that his body isn’t handling the infection well.

“Look at you,” replies Davey, trying to keep things light. “A captain in the army. I suppose it can’t be that different from leading a band of newsboys, can it?”

Another almost-laugh from Jack. He can barely keep his eyes open and it makes Davey want to break down crying.

This isn’t fair. For ten years, he’d imagined all the ways that he and Jack might find each other again someday. None of them involved Jack dying. This isn’t how it was meant to go. They were supposed to be happy.

“Are you sad?” asks Jack, after a moment. He squeezes Davey’s hand gently. “Just ‘cause it ain’t how we pictured it… ‘least we still found each other. I knew we would.”

Davey can’t stop himself from crying.

“I love you,” he whispers, so low it’s barely audible. “Forever, Jackie. I’m always yours.”

Jack’s eyes are falling closed now, but he hums a little and nods as he rubs his thumb over the back of Davey’s hand.

“Love you,” he finally replies, before giving in and letting himself settle back into sleep.

This has to be it— Davey figures he made it just in time. If he’d delayed his visit even an hour, he probably wouldn’t have been able to see him.

He can’t watch it happen, so he pushes himself back up to his feet and wipes the tears from his eyes. He does a round of checking in with and making conversation with all the other patients in the room. He might be crying on the inside, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t have the best bedside manner of any doctor he knows.

Sure enough, when he circles back to Jack, he has to take his pocket watch out and bring a nurse over as a witness so he can call time.

When he met Jack, all those years ago, he never imagined he’d be the one signing his death certificate, but life has a funny way of kicking you in the ass, doesn’t it?

Well… like Jack said, at least they found each other. He always knew they would.

#newsies #david jacobs #jack kelly #javid #my writing #tw war #tw guns #tw injury #if its not clear he died of sepsis :(#tw death

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rosesupposes · 4 years

Text

Ivy League

In which Race goes to dinner with Spot, his professor, and his asshole classmate and Spot ends up defending Race’s honor.

This is v v v self indulgent and probably doesn’t make much sense. Just know that Kelly Smaltzer is modern girlsie Smalls who just hasn’t gotten her nickname yet.

Read on AO3.

“Thanks so much for your help, Race. I was sure I was gonna fail this test.”

“No problem, Davey,” Race said, packing the empty containers from his lunch into his bag. Spot was on a meal prep kick and Race hadn’t been able to escape it. “After my midterm this morning, it actually reminded me that physics isn’t crazy.”

“Your Planetary Relations class right?” Davey started packing up his bag.

“Yeah and then my Dance Comp one later. But Albert and I are having rehearsals beforehand and then we’ve got another rehearsal for a showcase.”

Davey looked confused, as he gathered up the trash from his lunch, along with the trash Jack and Crutchie had left when Race and Davey had started reviewing for Davey’s Physics I test. “I thought you and Spot had that dinner with his professor tonight?”

Race groaned and held up the garment bag he’d had to bring along with his backpack and dance bag. “We do. I’ve been lugging my pants and shirt around all day. I have to wear a tie, Davey. A tie.”

Davey rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive. Spot must really want to impress his professor if he’s risking making you wear a tie.”

“I resent that but it’s not untrue. And he does. She takes an intern every summer from her first year classes and he thinks it’s a really good sign that she invited him to this dinner. But she also invited that asshole classmate that Spot’s always complaining about. He’s bringing his girlfriend.” Race wrinkled his nose.

“Oh, I see. That’s why your wearing the tie,” Davey said with the know it all tone that Race knew meant he was teasing.

“What?”

“You’re trying to out trophy wife the girlfriend.”

“Shut up and go take your physics test,” Race said, pushing Davey’s arm and then walking away from him. His phone chirped with a text from Davey not 30 seconds later.

I’m adding 3 points to your pettiness score. You’re in the lead now.

His Dance Comp midterm went well, even if it ran over. He blamed Albert for drawing the last performance slot because he could have left early otherwise. His whole body ached, protesting the Pilates class from hell that he’d had before lunch and the three hours of rehearsal he’d had after. Going home and vegging out on the couch sounded infinitely better than going to Spot’s dinner. The food would be good, sure, and Spot’s professor was paying but he’d learned early on in Spot’s law school career that when people at law events found out he wasn’t also in law school, they tended to lose interest pretty quickly. He was usually relegated to the role of trophy boyfriend- which he could do and do well but it was kind of hard when he was this exhausted and coming right from a day of midterms.

He tied his tie while he waited for his Uber and attempted to fix his hair using Snapchat as a mirror. Spot had mentioned that his asshole classmate’s girlfriend was apparently model pretty and Davey was right; Race was nothing if not petty. He was definitely going to be the better trophy wife tonight, even if he was exhausted and coming from four hours of dancing.

As soon as Race was in his Uber and had an ETA he trusted, he texted Spot.

mdtrm ran ovr b there 5 min l8 blame al

Okay

ur gonna wow her n then well get wine drunk w javid 2nite 2 celbr8

After texting Jack and Davey to make sure they could get wine drunk when Race and Spot got home, Race was happy to find his AirPods shoved into his wallet and he put them in so he could start reviewing the choreography for his upcoming Repertory midterm in his head. He got another text from Spot when he was about five minutes from the restaurant.

They're seating us now. Just ask for Taylor Caine.

k eta 4 min ur gonna kill it luv u

Race went right to the hostess when he entered the restaurant. She probably had a fancier title than hostess at a place like this but Race definitely didn't know the word, even if it was probably Italian. "Hi, I think my party's already been seated. I'm with Taylor Caine?"

The hostess gave him a once over, eyes catching on his poorly tied tie. "Of course, follow me, sir." She led Race through the main dining area and to another, smaller area where Race immediately picked out Spot and his group. He waved, hoping to catch Spot's eye and sure enough Spot saw him, his face brightening in a way that most people didn't recognize.

"Speak of the devil," he said, grinning as Race took the empty seat between Spot and who he assumed was asshole classmate's girlfriend. "This is my boyfriend, Antonio Higgins."

"Call me Tony, please," Race said, as if he ever used that name. "I'm so sorry I'm late, my dance midterm ran over."

The woman on the other side of Spot set her menu down and pushed her reading glasses on top of her head, offering her hand to Race, who took it. "No worries at all, we've only just ordered our drinks. I'm Taylor Caine."

"Oh the famous Professor Caine," Race crowed. "It's so great to meet you after all of Sean's stories."

"Only good ones I hope?"

"The best," Race agreed, grinning at Spot, who was getting the look he did when he was almost about to blush. Race decided to back off a little instead of laying it on so thick. "He loves your classes."

"Oh don't flatter her," the woman next to her said. The way she put her hand on Taylor's shoulder spoke of years of easy familiarity and it made Race smile to think of having that with someone- with Spot- one day. "I'll never hear the end of it. I'm Dalia."

Race shook her hand and then turned to the man at her side- presumably Spot's classmate. Race offered his hand. The man took it, but not before staring at it disdainfully. He eventually deigned to introduce himself to Race, but not before Race reintroduced himself first. “Antonio Higgins.”

"Joseph Huntington III. This is my fiancée, Kelly Smaltzer."

"Great to meet you." Race was sitting next to Kelly so he turned to her as well and offered his hand, which she shook. "That dress is absolutely beautiful. Vera Wang?"

Kelly's face lit up. She was very pretty and Race felt a little bitter. "Thank you, yes. How did you know?"

While the others discussed whatever it was lawyers discussed, Race told her about Jack’s internship at the fashion magazine and how they would obsess over spreads together for hours and they fell into an easy conversation about fashion magazines. Kelly, it turned out, was writing for the website of a competing fashion magazine but she quietly admitted to Race that she was hoping to break away from fluff pieces soon and then move to a magazine more like the one Jack worked at- one that was focused on fashion but strived for inclusivity and female empowerment. She had some interesting ideas and Race was slowly starting to like her. She and Jack would be a force to be reckoned with if put in the same room together. If they were relegated to conversation as trophy wives for the night, he didn’t think he would mind it.

Eventually the waiter appeared with drinks. Spot leaned into Race's space to tell him, "I ordered you a seltzer, babe."

Race kissed Spot on the cheek, taking his glass from the waiter. "Perfect, thanks."

As the waiter took their orders, Race suddenly realized he hadn’t looked over the menu at all- a dangerous choice, since he could be pretty picky with his Italian food. He began reading over but he only got through two appetizers before Spot interrupted him, quietly pointing out two of the menu items. “There’s lasagna you’ll like and a pasta primavera, if you want something lighter.”

“You know me too well,” he said with a wink and Spot rolled his eyes. He thought he heard Joseph scoff but he ignored it.

Once they'd settled back into conversation after ordering, Race found himself the center of attention. "So, Tony," Taylor said as she put away her reading glasses. "Sean tells me you're also at Columbia?"

Race nodded. "I am. I'm still an undergrad though- only a junior. Sean's too smart for me; he graduated high school and undergrad early."

"Don't sell yourself short. You’re-" Spot started but was interrupted by Joseph.

"You're a dance major then?"

"Yes," Race said, taking a sip of his seltzer, "a dance major and-"

“And what do you plan to do with that?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure yet but I also-”

"At Yale, dance is folded into the Theater Studies major. It’s not a very popular major. Most students at Yale choose a more… useful path for undergrad. I majored in political science. Joseph continued, a not so subtle attempt at shifting the focus of conversation to himself..

"Oh, how interesting," Dalia said, sounding perfectly interested though Race didn’t miss the little annoyed look that crossed her face.

Joseph launched into what was probably meant to sound like a description of undergraduate life in New Haven but was actually just a thinly veiled list of his accomplishments. Race nodded politely at all the right points in Joseph’s resume but caught Spot tensing his body out of the corner of his eye. Hoping to head off Spot’s seething, Race grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed it once, shaking his head a little. He waited for Spot to nod back to him before turning to Kelly. God, Spot could be such a drama queen. And, coming from Race, who was now leading on the pettiness scoreboard in their apartment, that was saying a lot.

Race turned back to Kelly, hoping to hear more of her ideas for future articles. She seemed excited just to have the chance to talk about them and after listening to both Katherine and Sarah rant for hours on end, Race felt like he knew how to actually engage in the conversation as an ally without being a total jerk.

By the time their food came, it was clear to Race that Spot’s assessment of Joseph as a Grade A Asshole was correct. He attempted to make every conversation about him and his opinions. He kept making digs at Spot’s less than ideal childhood and cutting off his own fiancée to speak for her. He was sitting next to Dalia but spent the whole time clearly trying to impress Taylor. In his effort to engage with Taylor, he ended up essentially ignoring Dalia, Kelly, and Race, and only engaging with Spot because he had to. No one seemed overly impressed with his accomplishments or his attitude which helped restore Race’s faith in humanity a little but it did not make for a fun dinner table.

Race could tell Spot was getting closer and closer to going off. His jaw was tight and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists under the table. It was one of the things Race loved most about Spot- his righteous outrage in the face of someone treating others like shit- but now was not the time for an outburst. He kept one hand just above Spot’s knee, even while talking to Kelly, slowly rubbing circles right above his knee cap.

Taylor and Dalia were wonderful, trying to keep everyone involved in the conversation. It was when they asked Kelly about herself that Race really started to get annoyed with Joseph. He kept talking over her, even when she was asked a direct question, ascribing opinions to her that Race could tell from her face she didn’t really hold. He told their engagement story with a focus on how amazing his plan had been while barely mentioning Kelly. When he excused himself to use the bathroom shortly after that, Race made it a point to ask Kelly again about the articles she wanted to write for her magazine. Taylor and Dalia both listened intently to her ideas of what fashion magazines could- and should- be.

“Sorry,” she said after a few minutes, putting her hands back in her lap and blushing a little. “I just get really excited about this kind of stuff.”

“No, no,” Taylor said. “Don’t apologize, you have a lot of really intelligent ideas and you’re very good at expressing them.”

Kelly beamed. “Thank you. I don’t have much chance to talk about them, even at work.”

Dalia hummed thoughtfully and nodded. “I remember seeing some profiles on your magazine recently. I thought they mentioned how progressive it was.”

“In some ways, it is,” Kelly said thoughtfully. “But in a lot of ways it’s white feminism and it’s lip service. There are a few articles on intersectionality in relation to feminism that I was sure I would get to write if I pitched them but I’ve been shut down again and again. They only want the type of feminism that’s palatable to their investors and they refuse to push for anything more. And we need to push for more. Intersectionality is the most important part of feminism and if I can somehow provide visibility to trans women or women of color-”

“This again, honey?” Joseph said, grinning as he sat down. “Sorry about that. She gets overexcited sometimes.”

Kelly looked visibly upset but also a little like she was used to it. “I’m not overexcited, Joey. This is important.”

“I don’t know why you care so much. It doesn’t affect you.”

“It does and even if it didn’t, then it’s even more important for me to care.”

Race could see a real argument brewing and, while he wouldn’t mind Joseph making himself out to be even more of an asshole, Kelly didn’t deserve to be put down in the middle of a restaurant, by her fiancee, when she was right. Without even thinking about it, Race took a sip of his almost finished seltzer and then set down his glass towards the edge of the table, tipping it into his own lap. “Oh my god, I’m such a klutz.” He stood, giving Spot a significant look and hoping his boyfriend picked up his cue to change the subject. “Excuse me, I’ll just go clean myself up.”

Race pulled a waitress aside as he headed to the bathroom, telling her about the spill. He cleaned himself up quickly. Thankfully, the air dryer helped with his wet pants. By the time he returned to the table, everyone seemed calm, though Kelly was decidedly not looking at Joseph. Dalia was speaking when Race sat down again. “I can’t say much obviously but it’s very exciting to represent them, even just in the patent filings. I mean, I have a degree in physics so it’s fun to go back to my roots with all the intermediary work before their next spacecraft is ready. Oh, Tony, is everything all right?”

“All set,” he said, taking his seat. “Just a little seltzer. Sorry, did you say you were working on patents for a spacecraft? Is it the Kord Industries one?”

Dalia’s eyes brightened. “Yes, actually, do you know it?”

“I do,” Race said at the same time that Joseph snorted. Race ignored it but could feel Spot seething next to him and reflexively reached a hand down to grab his knee. Spot was not going to blow his shot at this internship over whatever he thought was Race’s honor; not if Race could help it.

“And how do you feel about them? Most people who know enough to recognize them from such a brief description have strong opinions.”

“Oh, he does,” Spot said, a lot calmer than Race would expect.

Race laughed. “I guess that’s fair. I-“

“What would a dance major know about spacecraft?” Joseph had said it quietly to Kelly, who did not look pleased with him. The comment was clearly meant just for her but he hadn’t said it quietly enough because the whole table had heard him loud and clear.

“Joseph,” Kelly said, sounding scandalized. “Stop it.”

“It’s okay, Kelly,” Race said, forcing a smile onto his face, even though he was kind of exhausted from dealing with Joseph tonight.

“No, it’s not okay,” Spot interjected, standing in his seat and leaning over the table a little. “Antonio is double majoring in Dance and Astrophysics, which you would know if you hadn’t been interrupting him all night. He is the smartest and most passionate man I know. He has more talent in his pinky finger than you have in your entire body and will graduate with two very difficult degrees with no class overlap from an Ivy League school in 4 years. He’s already co-authored 2 papers as an undergrad and presented at 4 major conferences this year alone. And what have you done? Relied on daddy’s name for a degree and law school entry?”

“Spot,” Race hissed under his breath, tugging on Spot’s wrist. Both Joseph and Kelly were frozen on the other side of the table. “Sit down.”

“No, Racer. He’s been rude to everyone all night and he doesn’t get to insult your intelligence because one of your majors is dance and he couldn’t bother to listen to you and find out the other.”

Joseph seemed to have collected himself enough to lift an eyebrow, looking amused. “And you got in based on what? The scholarship for poor orphaned kids from Queens?”

“I’m from Brooklyn, asshole” Spot hissed and Race almost laughed. Leave it to Spot to bring up Brooklyn rather than his LSAT score of 179.

“I’m sorry but that is completely inappropriate language for a restaurant like this,” Joseph said still sounding amused. He looked to Dalia and Taylor, apparently aiming for conspiratorial. “I guess a place at Columbia is no guarantee for good breeding.” He turned back to Spot and Race, arms crossed as if he had won. “You should go now.”

“Actually, I think you should go, Joseph.” All eyes turned to Taylor who did not look happy at all. “Sean is right. You’ve been very rude tonight and I can’t say I blame him for lashing out. Kelly, darling, you’re welcome to stay. I’d love to hear more about your article ideas.”

Joseph’s absolutely shocked face would forever be one of Race’s favorite memories. He seemed frozen in his shock but Kelly jumped to action, standing and pulling Joseph up with her. “Thank you so much, Taylor, Dalia, but we’ll both be going. Sean, it was lovely to meet you. Tony, I’ll send you that article I was telling you about. Thank you all so much again. Have a lovely night.”

Kelly grabbed her coat and purse and pulled a shell shocked Joseph out behind her, without another word from him. Spot relaxed a little as he sat back down but Race saw the exact moment that he realized what had just happened.

“Professor, I am so sorry, that was completely inappropriate. We should go too-”

“Please don’t,” Taylor said. “You and Tony have been a delight tonight unlike Joseph. This is exactly why I do these dinners. You never know how a student behaves outside of class unless you meet them outside of class.”

“Yes, please stay,” Dalia said. “I’d like to hear Tony’s opinions on the Kord Industries spacecraft. The younger generation tends to have the most innovative thoughts on these things, in my experience. But first you’ll have to tell us where the nicknames Spot and Racer come from.”

Spot and Race grinned at each other.

“Well, you see,” Spot started, turning back to the older women. “My brother likes to think he’s very good at giving people nicknames.”

#newsies #newsies live #newsies 2017 #newsies fic #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #race higgins #racetrack higgins #race newsies #racetrack newsies #spot conlon #spot newsies #sprace #modern au #college au #abb writes

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loving-jack-kelly · 5 years

Note

Javid story where Davey is slowly going blind and Jack is determined to show david all the beautiful things in his life

When Davey was little, his eye doctors had been hopeful that his vision wouldn’t get too bad. As he got older, they got less hopeful, and by the time he was twenty, they’d told him he’d probably be unable to see anything more than light and dark by the time he was thirty.

He met Jack when he was twenty-five and had to wear glasses as thick as his thumb to be able to see. He was an aspiring writer, somehow making a living in journalism while working on a book he hoped he could publish someday.

Jack was an artist who’d suddenly made it big with one sale nobody could have predicted.

At first, Davey was worried his vision had gotten worse since he woke up when he saw the painting in question. The colors were nice, but the shapes were hard to make out and honestly he had no idea how it was supposed to be a cityscape, though that’s what the label called it.

He hadn’t realized he’d already found the artist when he’d said that out loud and the person standing next to him started laughing out loud.

“You know, I almost didn’t put this one up for sale. I painted it in two hours at three am. I like the others much better, but hey, if you have enough money only ugly is worth it.”

Jack was much closer to a work of art than the painting they were standing in front of, in Davey’s opinion. He was dressed up for the occasion, some fancy gala hosted by the person who bought his painting, and he looked like he fit right in with the crowd around them. When he laughed, he threw his head back, and his hair quickly escaped the styling he’d obviously spent time on and left him with curls falling in his face no matter how many times he pushed them away. His smile took over his entire face, making it easy to picture where the creases would form as he aged, and he never stopped moving. His hands fluttered when he talked, and when they ended up sitting next to each other near the end of the night, he was constantly tapping his fingers or jogging his leg. He was easy to talk to. Funny. Charismatic.

Easy on the eyes, too.

Davey had always looked at his vision loss philosophically. He might have been going blind, but he’d had plenty of years to see things, and he’d chosen and was enjoying a career that he didn’t really need sight for. There were people who had it worse, and he had managed to stay pretty content with his lot in life.

But he was glad he got to see Jack Kelly.

Jack seemed glad to see him too, if their conversation was anything to judge by.

Jack made a joke, and reached out to brush Davey’s hair away from his face. Jack listened to what Davey had to say, and leaned in close in a way that could be excused by the noise around them but just a little bit closer than necessary.

And when the party was finally dying down, which Davey was surprised to notice since he’d been planning on leaving long before most people, Jack extended his arm and an offer to walk Davey home.

And like something out of a movie, or a scene Davey would never write into a book because it just seemed too cheesy, Jack kissed him outside his apartment’s door. There was a florescent bulb flickering overhead, and Jack gently cupped Davey’s cheek and stayed so close when he pulled back that Davey could feel his breath, and then squeezed Davey’s hand before letting go.

He put his number in Davey’s phone with a heart-eyes emoji and responded immediately when Davey texted him.

And dating Jack Kelly was the easiest thing in the world.

He hadn’t quite expected it to be, the first time Jack had asked if he wanted to go out. He’d kind of expected it to be awkward and weird and probably to fizzle out after a couple of dates. And instead, Jack asked Davey on a first date and it was to a planetarium and Jack whispered facts the program didn’t include into Davey’s ear. He held Davey’s hand and took him for ice cream while the sun was setting. They walked the High Line and Jack picked a flower and tucked it into Davey’s shirt pocket.

“You know, I forgot that I’m lactose intolerant,” Jack said thoughtfully, looking down at the last bite of his ice cream cone. After a second, he shrugged and popped it into his mouth. “Oh well.”

“Oh, well?”

“I’ll take a pill when I get home. Ice cream is too good to live without, you know.” He smiled and took Davey’s hand again, both of their fingers sticky from melted ice cream.

They dated for almost two months before Davey fully explained his eyesight.

Jack didn’t do the annoying thing a lot of people did where he suddenly started treating Davey differently, or throwing Davey a pity party he didn’t ask for.

Davey knew he would be blind eventually. He’d known that for a long time, and he was used to it.

Instead, Jack asked a couple of questions about it, and then he asked one Davey had thought about a lot but never been asked by anybody else.

“What do you want to see?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have time, right? So what do you want to see before you can’t?”

Davey listed off a few places, a few sights that had always been on on his bucket list, and Jack hummed thoughtfully, and then their conversation had moved on and Davey pretty much forgot about it.

Until he found an envelope slid under his door with a hastily written note covering a little doodle obviously done by Jack.

I wanted to see your face but I had to literally run but I know you’ll be home soon so happy Start of Jack’s Grand Plan.

Davey opened the envelope not exactly sure of what to expect. A clue to a scavenger hunt, maybe. A sweet drawing, a longer note, something small and sweet and romantic, the type of gesture Jack loved to give.

There wasn’t any kind of note. Not a single doodle in sight, other than the one on the envelope which Davey was pretty sure was somebody feeding the pigeons in the park.

Davey opened the envelope and pulled out two plane tickets.

Round trip, three days and two nights, from JFK to Flagstaff Pulliam Airport.

And under the tickets in the envelope was printed off receipt for a two night stay in the Grand Hotel at the Grand Canyon.

And then there was a small piece of paper with a list of places with a bold strikethrough cutting through “Grand Canyon” at the top with a bunch of other places listed underneath.

Five minutes into reading and rereading the tickets and the room receipt over and over again, Davey’s phone rang with the ringtone Jack had picked for himself (a frankly very strange cover of Never Gonna Give You Up that made everyone do a double take when it rang in public).

“Hey! I wanted to wait for you but Crutchie called and said he was having an emergency.” Davey could hear the smile in Jack’s voice and also Crutchie yelling something about fresh baked cookies very much warranting the emergency label Jack Kelly they needed to be enjoyed warm. “Do you like it? They’re far enough out that I can move them if the dates don’t work, but I’m pretty sure they do.”

“Jacky…I…you can’t-“

“Already did. Davey, I sold a painting for enough money that I bought an apartment. In Manhattan. And then I sold another painting for even more money. I want to spend it on something good. And you’re good. Plus, I get to go too. It’ll be wonderful, Davey darling, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

Davey heard Crutchie say something to Jack and Jack laugh in response.

“Crutchie says if you don’t go he’ll go in your place and that would be weird because we’re brothers so you have to go.”

Davey laughed back.

“And you know you want to see the Grand Canyon. And it’ll be fun to get away for a little while. And-“

“Okay, okay, Jack, I’ll go with you.”

“We’ll hash out the details later, then. Love you, Davey, but more cookies came out of the oven three minutes ago and if I don’t start eating them soon Crutchie might murder me and that would spoil everything, now wouldn’t it?”

So they went to the Grand Canyon for the first week of April, and it was absolutely wonderful. Jack was wonderful, the trip was wonderful, and the view was wonderful and everything was wonderful.

And two months after that, Jack handed him a birthday card and inside of it were two tickets to Paris that Jack excused with “I’m going anyway for a show, so you might as well come, too.”

And over the next three years, Davey got tickets to Moscow, Hawaii, Yosemite. They drove to Maine and went through Niagara Falls on the way home. When they moved in together, Jack hung a bigger version of Jack’s Grand Plan on the wall and made a big dramatic deal out of crossing out every place they went to.

Davey laughed at every speech and pretended to protest every time Jack planned a new trip, but he knew he wouldn’t win any argument against going and he didn’t really want to stop going, either. He loved going on trips with Jack. He loved that Jack was determined to show him as much of the world as possible and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

How did he get so lucky?

Slowly, though, his vision was getting worse. He was getting tunnel vision, not in the figurative sense but in a very literal sense, and by the time he was twenty-nine, he finally stopped being able to see anything other than light and dark.

There was one stop left on Jack’s Grand Plan, and Davey was sure it wasn’t going to happen, but Jack still insisted.

So even though Davey wouldn’t be able to see the sights, he and Jack books tickets to Norway complete with a two day cruise in the fjords.

Jack was an artist, and he was just as good with verbal descriptions as drawings and paintings. He spent the entire trip describing absolutely everything he could see to Davey, from the outfits of the people around them to the towering stone surrounding them while they were on the boat.

It wasn’t exactly the same, but it was still pretty good.

Two weeks after they got home, Jack woke Davey up early and dragged him into the living room.

“I have a surprise and you’ll love it,” he said, offering no other explanation until Davey was sitting on the couch. “As you know, we recently completed the last stop on Jack’s Grand Plan. However, I can’t help but feel it wasn’t the same, and therefore, I have decided there has to be one last step before the plan can be declared complete. And that step happens…right now.”

Davey heard Jack pulling paper off of something.

Setting something down on the coffee table. Something big.

Jack took Davey’s hand and squeezed it before setting it down on the thing he’d put on the table.

It was rough. All ridges and texture, nothing smooth about it.

“It’s the fjords,” Jack said, obviously bursting with excitement. “It’s oil paints but it’s almost a sculpture instead of a painting, so you can touch it to see it. It doesn’t look like the fjords at all because I painted them and got the texture right and then added black on top because it’s meant to be touched, not seen.”

Davey ran his fingers over the entire painting, tracing the edges along the frame and feeling for details, surprised at how much he could identify. There was a patch at the bottom that felt the way choppy water looked, and tall patches of rough stone. Swirly clouds.

“It’s beautiful, Jack.”

“With that, Davey, Jack’s Grand Plan is complete. We’ve been to every place you listed, and you’ve seen them all. How was it?”

“Perfect, Jacky.”

Jack sat down next to him on the couch and kissed his cheek, wrapping his arms around Davey’s waist.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cause I was thinking we could maybe do a couple repeats. I could paint more like this. Still get to go on vacation together all the time but this time call it a business expense.”

Davey laughed and leaned into Jack’s arms.

“Sounds perfect to me, Jacky.”

#newsies #i wrote this #javid #i love them #Anonymous

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