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enter-a-newsies-obsession · 3 years

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Dark Alleys and Dark Bruises- Javid

Helllloooo!!! I haven’t posted a Javid oneshot for awhile so here you go! (also on Wattpad: Forbidden Thoughts~Javid Oneshots)

TW: blood, homophobia, use of f****t, angst (with happy ending!!)

The dirty puddles twinkled in the soft lamplight as Jack Kelly's footsteps disturbed them. He watched the ripples disappear into the edges, humming with slight interest. Leaning on the wall beside him, Jack looked up at the few stars that he could see through the clouds.

That kid's really killin' me, he thought bitterly. Again, his mind landed on a subject that he could never escape: David Jacobs.

Jack was on the way back to the Lodge from walking Davey and Les to their home, "It's dangerous out these days," was the only excuse he could muster, trying to hide the fact he just wanted more time with Davey.

Now, as Jack stood alone, he looked glumly around. Everything here could only remain him of Davey- the grimy pavement as dark as the boys hair, the soft lamplight as tender as his cheek, hidden alleyways where Jack would fantasise pulling him into, the twinkling stars matching his shining eyes.

Jack shook his head angrily.

He pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands roughly in his pockets. Girls, boys, he loved them both. Too bad none but the newsies really liked that.

So caught up in his thoughts as he was, Jack didn't see the two shadows slither up behind him.

A voice dripped in sarcasm drifted out from the darkness as Jack froze in his tracks.

"Oi! What'd we's have here now? That the famous Jack Kelly, is it?"

Oscar and Morris Delancey scuffled out from behind him. Jack sighed loudly, turning back with a fake, smug smile and threw his hands up.

"Oscar, Morris. What cha doing down in these parts, shouldn't yer be crawlin' 'round by someone else's feet at this time of night?"

Oh, they didn't like that comment.

Their smiles faded and clean shaven jaw clenched.

"We's was just passin' by 'til we saw ya round 'ere alone." Oscar spat, cracked his knuckles and advanced. Jack tried to stand his ground but when Oscars hot and mucky breath washed over his cold face, he clenched his fists and stepped back.

"My fists have been aching without anything to punch-" before Jack could respond, Morris took a swing at him, but he dodged it with a gulp. What were they playing at? What did they want?

"Oi, where's yer little boyfriend, aye Kelly? Davey was it?"

Ah, so that's what they wanted.

"Don't have a boyfriend," Jack shrugged, "What, you offering Morris?"

Morris growled and pushed him roughly into an empty alley way. Jack, who hadn't prepared to be pushed, fell violently onto his back, hitting his head on the pavement. Before he could get up, Oscar dug his heel into his chest and forced him back down.

He leaned over him, "Come on Jaaaack, you can tell us if yer a dirty homosexual. We's won't tell."

Jack struggled against his foot and attempted to push him off.

"I ain't gonna. An' if I were, I don't appreciate yer callin' us dirty."

Oscar let Jack scramble up to stand, then kicked him in the stomach, winding him and making him double over in a vulnerable position where they could sock him right in the jaw.

"We's ain't stupid," Morris growled, "You're a disgusting f****t, we've seen the way you and that Davey kid look at each other."

Jack coughed up bright red blood onto the grimy pavement.

"Burn in hell." He snarled.

They leaned forward, "Oh, we won't be the only ones, Queer."

Before another breath could be taken, they started kicking him down, punching him in the jaw, bruising his ribs, cutting his head until it bled on the ground, spitting on his face.

Then, they left him in the cold, bleeding and bruised, hardly able to sit up, slurs echoing through his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where's Jack?" Les whined, looking around at the Newsies Square. Davey's smile flattered but he straightened up to pat his brother reassuringly on his head.

"He'll be here."

A minute passed, then five, then fifteen.

Crutchie hobbled over to them.

"You's seen Jack this mornin'?"

Davey's brow furrowed and shook his head. "No. Didn't he come back last night?"

It was Crutchies turn to shake his head.

Davey looked around anxiously, "He wouldn't have gone to Brooklyn or Queens or somethin'?"

Crutchie looked around as if he would sense him. "Nah, he woulda told one a us," he frowned. "Or you's guys," he added.

Worry started to tease at the edge off Davey's mind. Jack was strong. He would be fine.

If he's strong he would've made it back by now, Daveys brain argued.

Okay, now his mind was full of fear of every single bad thing that could happen to a Newsies around these parts- especially in the middle of the night when Jack had left.

Racer- who had previous joined the conversation- laid a reassuring hand on David's shoulder, "Aye..... Aye Dave what ya worrying about? It's gonna be-"

"I'm gonna go look for 'em," Davey snapped, turning sharply away before giving Les the money and waving a quick goodbye for now. After a nod from Crutchie, Racetrack went with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They had been following the route back to Davey's apartment for a while now, checking each dark alley, each shop window, each side street, just for a small glimpse of where Jack was.

Davey had started panicking when they had gone almost half an hour without a clue, taking off his hat to run his clammy fingers through his dark hair.

"I really dunno," Race sighed, kicking a stick on the road into the alleyway next to them, "he could be anywhere by now, Davey, I-"

There was a groan from the alleyway. Race and David froze.

"What was that....?" Davey half-heartily whispered as Race was already approaching the dark clump .

"Err.....Dave, you better come 'ere quick..."

Davey ran. Then, just as fast, he froze..

Davey found it hard to believe that Jack Kelly- one of the strongest leaders Dave knew, the hard muscled boy with an equally quick witted come back always ready, the boy who never flinched in the way of danger- was the same boy who curled and flinched as Dave put a trembling hand to his shoulder.

"Jack?" He didn't respond as Davey crouched beside him, next to Race, "Hey Jackie?"

"...Dave?"

The voice that whispered was hoarse and cold, nothing like the Jack Dave knew. His head lolled towards where Davey's voice came from. His fingers were crusted with old blood, his face was covered in darkening bruises and an angled nose was red and dried, but through the pain he was still able to reach towards his Dave.

"Hey Jack, it's gonna be okay, it'll be okay, just wait," Dave leaned down to wrap his finger around Jacks, whispering soft assurances. As soon as he had finished he whipped his head up to Race and hissed instructions.

"Racetrack we're getting Jack back to my house."

Race looked between them and opened his mouth to say something.

"Now."

Race, suddenly extremely scared of David, jumped up to push Jack up to sitting.

"Slowly!"

Race flinched.

Jack moaned in pain as he was forced up. Davey reached forward to caress gently at one of Jacks bigger bruises on his face, and held his head when Jack nuzzled into his soft, warm hand.

"It'll be okay..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After helping (well, more precisely, dragging) Jack back to Davey's apartment Race went back to Newsies Square to tell the others what happened. He could only gesture a quick goodbye through the fussing of David's mother.

"Is this the Jack Kelly you've been talking so much about? I can help- if you need. I....I can...Help clean the wounds- oh I'll go make something hot! How 'bout I-"

"I can do it, Ma," Davey interrupted his mother, smiling softly afterward. Jack was currently asleep on Davey's bed, words and movements too hard on his body at the moment. David's mother insisted on helping.

"I can handle it, Ma, I swear. I... actually, when I think about it, can you get me a cloth and some water?"

"Of course!"

That would occupy her for a bit.

Letting out a breath, Davey moved over to where Jack was laid, sleeping peacefully, and sat at his feet.

Dave's mother came in to give her son the rag and water, then, after Davey asked her to close the door on her way out, left hesitantly.

Then they were alone.

The resting boy grunted softly in his dream. Dampening the cloth, Davey pressed it against Jacks forehead.

It went on like that for quite some time, and even though it was lonely, Dave enjoyed watching Jack's chest gently rise and fall with each of his quiet breaths, no pain or stress currently weighing it down.

When it came to unbuttoning Jacks vest to reveal his bare chest to clean the wounds underneath, Davey did it hesitantly and slowly.

Jack would understand, wouldn't he? Yeah...yeah.

A sudden coldness and sticky pain was what woke him. Jack stirred slightly, peeling open his heavy eyelids to squint at the hazy silhouette of a beautiful boy.

He looked to the side and Jack made out the curve of a nose through the shining light which shone behind the boy he stared at.

An angel?

Jack blinked the sand out of his eyes and grunted gingerly, moving his arms under him to lift himself up.

Davey turned. "Oh! Hey Jackie, how ya feeling?" He whispered, the edges of his lips curling in both happiness and worry.

"Aye, er," he winced as he moved his ribs, "could be better, i think."

Davey didn't like seeing Jack in pain, so he made a practiced move to help him sit up and positioned the pillow so he could rest on it.

Jack looked down at his open shirt, took one glance at a blushed Davey, and said nothing about it.

"So..." Davey whispered, "What happened? Who did it, 'cuz I'll go soak 'em right now if I have to, I'll knock some bloody sense inter 'em, you don't mess with Jack Kelly and get away with it-"

"Nah, nah, Davey don't do that it's fine." Davey huffed out a breath. Jack smirked as he watched him wrestle his thoughts and eventually- and angrily might I add- brought the cloth back up to a wound on Jacks cheek that had already been cleaned.

The silence stretched out for longer than what was comfortable.

"It was the Delancey's..." Jack muttered after awhile.

Davey gritted his teeth.

"They's were just pickin' on me, that's all." Jack could tell Dave didn't bye it. He didn't meet his eye, but the pause in his cleaning told a tale.

"What did they say?" David hissed, finally bringing back his hand and looking Jack in his beautifully dark eyes. Jack looked away.

"Theys....nothin'.....it was nothin' Dave..."

"It was not nothing, Jack, don't lie to me, I found you lying in an alley, hardly bloody conscious!"

Jack blinked. He hadn't heard Davey this angry since the strike.

"I....Fine.....T.....Theys were callin' me slurs. Sayin' I should die for being.....for liking boys like I do...." Jack looked away again.

David froze. Then he started to move, eyes cold as he pushed off the bed. But Jack caught his arm- trying to hide his flinch at the sudden movement.

"Davey....David, don't. Yer won't do no good, ya just get yourself beat up too."

"Well if that's what it takes-"

"Davey. P....Please just stay 'ere."

Dave sat back down, somewhat sad and reluctant, and they sat in silence for a time.

"You's don't deserve to die, Jack. Don't let them get to you."

Looking up slowly, Jack smiled- the kind of smile he would normally hide, or the one he wore while blushing. Then, he reached towards Dave's hand.

"Thanks, Dave, ya really are a....pal."

Davey focused his gaze intently on the floorboards, lips frowned, opened, closed, blew out a laboured breath. Previously furrowed brows deepened further.

Chuckling hurt, but Jack thought it was worth it. Reaching up to rest his hand on Dave's jaw, he sat up slightly further. He turned the boys face toward him.

They looked at each other tenderly, taking in each feature and strand of hair they were both so in love with.

Then, Davey leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Jacks forehead, smiling against his skin.

He pulled back and Jack instantly grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a long needed hug.

#javid #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #javey #davey jacobs #jack x davey #newsies #newsies are hella gay prove me wrong #newsies fanfiction #Jack Kelly #the Delaneys #:))) this is fine

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neilthefoxjosten · 6 years

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Helllloooo! Here’s a writing prompt , Andreil breakup? One where Andrew catches Neil about to run? I am ALL for the angst

Girl me too, I love me some angst! Thanks for the prompt, here we go!

Lips pressed together, hands knotted into hair, breath shared between the small space they held themselves in; Andrew felt like he was falling and the longer it went on the more devastating the crash.

Neil doesn’t protest when Andrew jerked away, doesn’t follow as Andrew escaped. Andrew slipped outside, lit a cigarette, and drew. He held the smoke in his lungs.

A count of four, exhale, smoke curling skyward. There was too much feeling where there should be none, a pipedream to good to be real, too real to last.

Andrew stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette under his shoe and went back inside, a mug of fresh hot chocolate left still steaming on the table beside the coach. The mug was a miserably bright orange, doubtlessly one of Neil’s. Seeing it twisted Andrew’s stomach in a way that he didn’t want to consider.

Andrew poured it down the sink without taking a sip.

**************************************************************************************************

Neil knew something was wrong, it was clear in the broken off kisses, solo cigarettes, and locked doors.

He knew better than to push, Andrew had been pushed more than enough in his life.

Instead, Neil took what was offered, gave everything he could in truths, and sweets, and space, and let the days of winter break tick by.

It came to a head when Andrew came back late, the telltale spots of purposeful purple shown with knowing precision, on Andrew’s neck and over his collarbone.

Neil felt something inside him break, something nameless turned jagged, but he doesn’t say a word. Andrew was never his, and he’d always promised he’d lose interest.

Instead of words, Neil grabbed his keys, carefully not watching Andrew threw his coat onto the couch and headed to the shower. Didn’t notice, wouldn’t notice, that Andrew didn’t spare him a glance.

With deceptively calm fingers Neil teased out a key from his ring, and then another. Placed beside a cooling mug of hot chocolate they looked almost picturesque.

Neil left the door locked behind him.

It took everything he had not to look back.

**************************************************************************************************

Andrew didn’t believe in regret.

Seeing the two keys on the table, one for the front door of the house, the other for the car; Andrew thought he might have to reconsider.

**************************************************************************************************Wymack didn’t question Neil when he knocked despite the hour being shockingly close to sunrise. Neil, in turn, doesn’t offer much in the way of explanation, muttering a thanks to the coach before crashing on the couch. The rest could wait, for now, Neil would sleep and hope he’d wake to an earlier time.

**************************************************************************************************

Andrew hardly saw Neil outside of Exy practice, the team seeming to have taken several steps back since they had left for break. Andrew didn’t care about that, ignoring Wymack’s tirades and Kevin’s rants. He stood idly in the goal as it lit up red time after time.

Night practice afforded him more glimpses of Neil, though the striker had taken to meeting him and Kevin at the court and running back alone afterward, returning to his new hole up in Boyd’s room night after night.

Andrew didn’t miss the slow disappearance of clothes from Neil’s drawers, finding yet another key left behind once they’re empty of everything but the clothes that they had gotten him for Eden’s.

Andrew pushed away the stir of feelings instead of trying to decipher them, locking them away with the key he dropped in with the abandoned clothes.

Nicky scampered out of his way as Andrew left the bedroom, going first to the roof and then the amphitheater. Being on the roof felt too much like hitting the ground.

Andrew almost missed falling.

**************************************************************************************************

The first game back was borderline disastrous, a win wrestled away from the Catamounts by the skin of the Foxes’ teeth. Palmetto was back to the team they were pre-Neil, Class I on raw talent with a disruptive lack of organization, an unplayable apathetic Andrew with neither the promise of sobriety or Neil able to make him raise a racquet.

Wymack was fuming in the locker room for debrief, waiting on Dan and Nicky to join after they had broken off to deal with the press. Once they entered the room, before they could even sit, he began.

“I don’t know who was playing on my court tonight but it wasn’t the Foxes I’ve been training for the past four months.” Preston, the freshmen goalie, looked cowed, but the rest of the team preferred either no reaction or a pointed glare at Andrew. The blond didn’t react.

“Your personal lives may be out of my pay grade but if it’s going to interfere with my team then it becomes my problem. So figure it out, before our match against ASU. Dismissed.” Andrew is the out of the door, followed quickly by the freshman, Aaron, and Kevin. The rest of the team spared Neil anxious looks, they hadn’t missed that he’d been talking less off the court, but they follow after as well; Neil acting as the tail.

“Neil,” Matt dropped back in step with Neil, speaking softly so the others couldn’t hear. “If you ever need to talk you know I have your back, right?” Neil managed him a weak smile, fake enough even the freshmen wouldn’t fall for it.

“I’m fine Matt, thanks.” The words felt counterfeit but it was all he had. Matt looked unconvinced, but let Neil push past him. “Don’t wait up for me after.” Neil didn’t wait to see Matt’s face fall, stepping into a stall, shedding his clothes, and turning the water all the way up.

He could feel his skin turning pink under the spray’s heat but he doesn’t care enough to adjust it, instead setting his face to the cool wall as the water pounded against his scarred back, carrying sweat and weakness away with it.

**************************************************************************************************

Andrew didn’t wait for his monsters to finish showering, getting into the Maserati with still damp hair.

He drove aimlessly around campus for a while, speed to slow to do any good at detangling the knotted thorns that had taken hold of his chest, a knot that seemed to grow and constrict by the day and hour.

He found himself back at the Foxhole Court, parking lot completely empty of fans and players alike. Save one, redheaded striker only now just making to leave. Andrew pulled up beside him, rolling down the window but saying nothing. Neil’s hair was still wet, dark where it curled over downcast eyes.

A few breaths pass and Andrew almost pulled away, thinking himself unwelcome, before the door opened and Neil climbed in.

The window is rolled up and they drive for a few minutes in silence, radio muted, before Andrew leaned over. He clicked open the glove box.

“Something of yours is in there.” Andrew doesn’t miss the nervous flit of Neil’s eyes, and swallowed. The knot tightened so hard around his lungs he could hardly breathe. It was worse than falling.

Neil reached forward with careful fingers, pulling out the trio of keys with stunted breath. Andrew can feel blue eyes on him but continued to stare at the road. He needed to turn the words over and over in his head, weeding out any uncertainty.

Two minutes passed before Andrew finally opened his mouth. “I made a mistake.” The knot loosened its hold by just a margin, letting him suck in a breath. It was the opposite of his fingers, tightened around the wheel.

“I- we were never-” Andrew cut him off, veering sharply to the side of the road.

“We were. I hurt you.” Andrew tapped his fingers against the wheel. “I didn’t realize.” Neil’s eyes were wide, fingers white around the keys. They would leave marks. “He didn’t do anything else.” Neil’s eyes fell to the loop, fist opening and closing around the keys. It settled on closed when he looked up.

“What now?” Andrew’s chest finally loosened at the question, thorns retreating as he held the answer off by lighting two cigarettes. He handed one to Neil, feeling fingers curl around it.

“That’s up to you.” Andrew took a drag, seeing Neil mirror him.

“Nicky’s been missing Eden’s.” Andrew shifted back to drive and pulled back onto the street.

“If they’re not ready in fifteen minutes we’re leaving without them. Make sure they grab us something presentable to wear.” Neil nodded and sent the text, the rest of the monsters waiting for them at Fox Tower, with a bundle of clothes in Nicky’s arms. They pile into the car.

“Did you guys finally make up?” Nicky asked immediately, voice loud in excitement. Neil beat Andrew to the radio, turning it up loud as a warning.

Andrew was feeling, but it really wasn’t that much like falling. It just took him too long to figure it out.

Okay this is unedited and I hate the last sentence but I tried! I’ll probably edit it and post it to a03 by weeks end. I hope everyone liked it, even with the angst. I’m still taking requests should anyone wanna shoot me an ask!~ Thanks for reading, please leave some feedback if y’all can!

Edit- I lied, I literally just posted it to AO3- FatesofConquest

#fox answers #fox rambles #all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #kinda angsty #breakups hurt #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #thanks for the prompt!#I used the asterisks because it doesnt linebreak nicely on mobile #oh well

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