Javey Sleeping Positions!!

javey oneshot !

modern au, davey crutchie and jack are roommates, javey first kiss, 1.2k words, fluff?? idk how to tag fics ... enjoy :] ...

Jack and Crutchie were playing cards when Davey clomped into the room, gently placing his sax case on the vacant bottom bunk in the room before loosening his tie and unceremoniously dropping his school bag near his sax.

'What's got you so exhausted, Davey?' Crutchie asked, playing a 3 of clubs.

'You seen my exam timetable?' Davey grouched, loosening his tie further and swiping a hand through his hair. 'On top of that, band commitments for prefect assembly, AND quartet wants to get into this one gig... it's so full of shit.'

Jack played a 7 of clubs, trying to pretend to be focussed on anything but Davey's loose collar and tousled hair as he leant against the wall and checked his phone.

'... just drop the ass subjects then.' Crutchie was saying, playing an ace. 'Sorry, Jack.'

Jack groaned. Davey continued, 'I can't just drop all my sciences! My mother would kill me!'

'Least you got a mother.' Crutchie shrugged. Jack snorted, picking up the deck and shuffling. Crutchie continued, 'Some of us ain't so lucky.'

Jack snuck a glance at Davey while he shuffled, and fumbled, dropping all of the cards when Davey tilted his head back, sighing. He heard Crutchie suppress a laugh and threw a cushion at him.

'Jack, what do you think?' Davey looked at Jack through half-lidded eyes, head still tilted back. 'Surely I don't drop physics...'

Jack cleared his throat quickly, shoving the cards back into the case as Crutchie snorted again. 'Uh.. why? Like, why do you wants to drop it?'

'I just explained this.' Davey rolled his eyes playfully. 'Physics is so content-heavy that I can't keep up with my other subjects. So I might drop it. Then, I would have a free period at the same times as you and Crutchie too.'

'Yeah, drop it.' Jack said coolly, and suavely, and so chill-ly, in fact, that he could even hold eye contact with Davey's big, beautiful, glowing brown eyes for more than 0.183 of a second. Progress.

Crutchie pulled out his phone, evidently bored by the conversation Jack was leading so well.

'Oh goodness, I have to go to the toilet,' Crutchie said, lying horribly. 'I'll have to leave you two suckers to it.' He stood, grabbed his crutch, and was out the door without another word.

Davey took the new free spot on Jack's bed, and crashed down, slumping backwards.

'Jackie, I'm so fuckin tired.' He murmured, voice suddenly gravelly now that Crutchie had gone. Jack felt butterflies course through him at the nickname.

'Sleep, then.' Jack shrugged. 'It's, what, 11pm?'

'Yeah, but...' Davey sighed. 'I wanna stay up and talk to you. Haven't seen you all day.'

'Oh.' Jack's voice cracked, and he immediately curled in on himself. Davey laughed, loudly and long, and it almost made Jack feel better. Almost.

'Aw, Jack.' Davey laughed, wiping tears from his eyes, noticing Jack's frown. 'It's fine. It was funny.'

'Embarrassing.' Jack muttered, dropping his face into his hands.

'Nooo..' Davey said half-heartedly. 'It was very funny, though. I think I needed that after today.'

Jack looked at Davey's rosey cheeks, at his soft smile and his dimples, at his ruffled hair, and at his big eyes, and at his loosened shirt, and god he looked beautiful. Crutchie wasn't there, it was just him and Davey sitting on his bed. In silence. Awkward silence. As Davey looked back at Jack with his eyebrows drawn together slightly in confusion. Fuck.

Jack looked away, and felt his cheeks and ears warming.

Davey's gentle voice sounded from behind him. 'Jack, what's wrong?' He felt Davey's eyes on the back of his head, heard the concern seeping into his voice.

'Fine.' Jack muttered, mad at himself.

'No, you're not.' Jack felt a hand on his shoulder, felt that hand turn him around til he was facing Davey again. Davey, who was about one foot from his face. 'What's wrong?'

'I just...' Jack sighed, his eyes falling to his knees. 'I dunno.'

'You know. You can tell me. Whatever it is, it cannot possibly affect our friendship.'

'Oh, it can.' Jack laughed drily, shrugging Davey's hand off his shoulder.

'Stop being emo.' Davey frowned. 'Tell me. Tell me or I'll tell Crutchie that you cried.'

'I'm not crying!' Jack cried indignantly.

'It'll be your word against mine.' Davey shrugged, smirking. 'Now hurry up and tell me so I can go shower.'

Jack sighed. Might as well bite the bullet.

'I... uh...' He squeezed his eyes shut. 'I want to kiss you. Real bad.'

Silence. Jack grimaced.

He felt Davey's hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes a smidge, to see Davey's face, inches from his. Smiling.

'Figured that was the case.' Davey brought his other hand to the back of Jack's head. 'Might as well indulge you a little, huh?'

And Davey connected his lips with Jack's. Jack, too shocked to kiss back, eyes now wide open, as Davey pulled away. He chuckled at Jack's spellbound expression, frozen as he tried to take in what happened.

'No?' He asked, grinning.

Jack blinked, once, twice, and then grabbed Davey's face and pulled him right back in again. Davey's lips felt like electricity against Jack's, moving in a perfect rhythm. When Davey pulled apart for breath, Jack stayed close, pressing their foreheads together. He laughed breathlessly, incredulously.

'You wanted that, I take it?' Davey smiled.

'So much.' Jack agreed, connecting their lips again.

Jack was halfway through pushing Davey back down onto his pillows when they heard the clack of their key in the lock, and hadn't quite gotten a last taste fast enough for Crutchie to open the door, close it behind him, and take in the sight. The sight, that is, of Davey, lying down in Jack's bed, still with his shoes on, frantically pushing Jack away, and Jack straddling Davey, looking like a deer in headlights, wide eyed, staring at Crutchie like he was some kind of horror.

'Welcome back!' Davey said cheerfully, not making an effort to move. 'Told you this would happen.'

'Man, I thought he wouldn't. I thought he wouldn't so much that I came back early.' Crutchie replied casually, kicking off his slides.

Jack looked frantically between Crutchie and Davey. 'This was planned??'

'You think it wasn't obvious how bad you wanted Davey to kiss you?' Crutchie snorted. 'Even Davey knew. And Davey's dense.'

'You shut your mouth.' Davey replied sharply. 'I wanted it too.'

'That was just as crystal fucking clear.' Crutchie made his way over to his bed. 'You know how unbearable it is rooming with you two?'

Davey tapped Jack's thigh, and Jack moved quickly, realising he was still on top of Dave. Davey got up unceremoniously, casting a longing glance back at Jack, as if it was a woe to be away from him for this long. He lumbered his way over to his bed, fishing out his toiletry bag, towel, clothes and his wallet. He opened his wallet, held it out expectantly to Crutchie, who begrudginly dropped a few coins in.

'I'm gonna shower, lads.' He announced, grabbing his phone and left without anything else besides another glance at Jack.

Once the door was safely closed, Jack snapped his head towards Crutchie. 'That was a fucking BET?'

I wrote a Jack & Crutchie story for @loiteringandlurking re: his post about Jack who is an amputee.

One-Handed

In the circulation yard, Crutchie watches the new kid with the knotted-up shirt sleeve, watches how he holds the top of his bag open with his stump and then shoves the papes in one-handed. Crutchie knows that dance; he's got two good arms himself, but one of 'em's always occupied. It ain't as easy as it looks.

Kid says his name is Jack. He's straight from a factory job -- by way of the charity hospital on Hudson Street -- and can't hawk a headline for shit, but he can tie a bootlace real tight, a hard-won skill he's clearly proud of. First, he does up the dangling lace on Crutchie's bad foot. Then he tackles the other side for good measure. Double knots on both scuffed boots. And Crutchie lets him. For once, he don't care who sees him getting help because it makes the guy so happy.

Crutchie lets Jack follow him around, too. Teaches him the ropes. Why not?

::::

August in the crowded dormitory bedroom, hot and airless. Most of the boys have stripped to their undershirts, including Jack, sprawled out on his bottom bunk. Crutchie glances quickly away from the place where his right arm ends, the scar still red and angry, and looks down at the sketch slowly developing. A nighttime scene in a desolate place, a wolf howling next to twin pine trees, mountains in the background, a crescent moon riding overhead. Jack scratches his pencil along the wolf's back. His neck flushes with frustration. He still ain't used to being a lefty.

"Looks real good," Crutchie says quietly.

Jack spits out the rubber eraser he's been holding in his teeth. It lands on his pillow and Crutchie waits for him to say something mean. But he only uses the eraser to rub at some of the smudges. "Not every day you gets to see talent like this up close, huh?"

::::

Someone sends word that Jack's old man is doing poorly, so he stops by with a carton of cigarettes he bought. The place is a tenement on Mulberry, prostitutes coming and going. Jack insists that Crutchie wait on the stoop to protect their pile of newly bought evening Worlds. He's back in less than ten minutes, looking slightly out of breath.

"If he lives so close, how come you don't stay with him?"

"Well, I used to," Jack says, though that don't answer the question at all.

"He hit ya?"

"Nah, never." Jack seems to realize he's walking too fast and slows his pace. "Sorry. I think maybe ... I think seein' me makes him feel bad. So I just don't go by there too much."

Crutchie knows exactly what Jack means, and it makes him mad. He stops in the middle of the street to call the headline to an old woman in a kerchief. Jack waits, lighting a cigarette one-handed, while Crutchie juggles his crutch to make change. "You're still a kid. Your pops should be helpin' you out. If he ain't gonna do that, the least he could do is be proud of how good you is doin'."

"He don't need to be proud. I's just livin my life," Jack says. "Not everybody's gonna understand." He slings his good arm around Crutchie's shoulders. "But I got you."

::::

Ladies like Crutchie. They always have. They want to help him; they buy his papes and sometimes they gives him food and things. But it's girls that like Jack Kelly -- girls their same age.

And Jack seems to like them back, too. He'll pick someone out special to pass the time with, take her to the music halls -- he can sell a hundred twenty papes on a good day and always burns through his money -- draw pictures for her, tell her all about the Wild West. When the boys at Duane Street tease him, Jack tells them to shut up: this is the one.

Somehow, none of them girls ever is. But when it ends, Jack don't seem too heartbroken. Nothing bothers Jack, nothing Crutchie has ever seen.

Maybe he is the wolf in the picture. Maybe he is the moon.

::::

When Jack talks about New Mexico, Crutchie can't help but worry. He's been working to support himself ever since he was eight, but he's only ever done the kind of jobs people think a cripple can do. Who says anybody would hire guys like them them for farm labor?

Jack hooks his right arm over the top rung of the fire escape ladder and reaches his hand down to take the crutch. He says, "Well, we'll show 'em, pal. We can find a way to do most anything we wants to. Can't we?" And he pulls Crutchie up behind him.

They stand together on top of the world. No mountains, no majestic pines. Just them and the buildings that crowd all around them, the landscape of the city where he was born. Life ain't fair; he's always knowed that. But in this moment, Crutchie thinks what Jack says might be true.

Because he ain't never felt sorry for Jack, not for a minute. Why would he? Maybe there is folks out there who won't feel sorry for him neither, who will see him for all that he is.

FIN.

It’s my birthday and I’m finally going to watch 92sies

ⓘ You can Bite your Friends.

crutchie n jack

maybe im just being autistic and applying my blorbos to everything but i just saw asteroid city and man. davey as a playwright. jack as a set designer. them meeting on the set of whats supposed to be daveys magnum opus, except davey doesn't entirely understand what the magnum opus is yet. it's there, it's coming, but it's not done. jack and davey clashing on ideas, getting into fights and not being able to explain themselves properly, hashing those fights out and kissing many, many times. davey creating plays within plays within plays because theres so much he wants to say in so many different ways if he could just figure out how he's supposed to say them, and jack's trying his hardest to keep up despite how confused he is because theres something there with davey, something life-changing, and jack desperately wants to see it through.

davey getting into a car accident a few months into production. the scenes and dialogue and set pieces and tiny tiny details that davey was so passionate about despite not entirely understanding them yet, all being cut for run time. until what was meant to be his greatest creation ends up... unfinished. incomplete.

(jack tries to get it. he doesn't get it. it's davey's life's work and he's not getting it)

jack mourning a relationship that barely even happened. jack trying to paint. jack's paintings never coming out right, not what they used to be, not what they could've been. jack living with the loss of something that hadn't even really been there yet. jack knowing that something could've happened here that changed him entirely, if it hadn't been cut off halfway through.

Newsies twitter conversations that I might build on later-

TY FOR THE TAG PIDGE!!!!!

made me in my drama blacks bc that's pretty much all i wear now 😭😭 that and my school uniform

@coircus-aceman @imbluedabadeedabadye @getyourpaybackwithsomepayback no pressure!!!

starting a picrew chain bc i found one that has tons of options for outfits and such

here is the link

so here’s a biblically accurate atlas for you folks

fun fact i have this exact outfit ^_^

no pressure tags: @gently-decaying-flowers @tellme-o-muse @gayoticbeing @xgirlidiotx @trying-to-be-cool-abt-it @bassguitarinablackt-shirt @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies @astraeasparrow @fakevariety @mack-anthology-mp3 @my-cages-were-mental and anyone else who’d like to!!

Modern Javid au where Jack meets this guy (David) who takes some time to warm up to people but once he does he's the Coolest and Jack is crushing so hard on him but like they've become best friends he can't ruin that now by liking a straight guy and telling him and one day he just says something like "woah you really know stuff about music (or something) too bad you're straight what a waste of potential lmao" and Davey is just like "I'm sorry it's too bad I'm what?"

my favorite thing about modern au ralbert is that al doesn’t really dress outwardly queer he’s just like yeah. tee shirt with the sleeves cut off and baggy jeans and maybe a flannel if he’s feeling fancy. straight boy chic. and he’s dating urban dictionary’s definition of a twink