So, this is a little fic from a prompt from the Refuge boards. Directly from Quinfirefrorefiddle over there.
"Francis Jonathan Patrick Sullivan Kelly. What. Did. You. Do?"
David supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised that Jack got in fights. He was belligerent. He had a temper. He was given the longest name he'd ever heard. You're just asking for trouble when you give a kid a name like that.
That being said, he was not happy.
Jack was standing in the door with a nice shiner and a bloody lip that had dribbled down onto his collar. He stood there, taking David's speech, like he did every time.
"You're too smart to get in fights Jack. You're too old. Then you come here and Les sees you and thinks it's ok. You scare the hell out of my mother and Sarah—Jesus, Jack! Sarah. You broke your heart and you come around beaten to a pulp. Then you expect me to clean you up!"
Jack got the message. David couldn't understand why he came here instead of the lodging house. Well, he'd stopped coming and David knew that. He was almost thinking that he was angrier about that than he was about when he came. He laughed a little, receiving a glare from David. He was so goddamn backwards. Only Davey could manage to yell at him about coming when he really meant that he was mad that he'd been gone so long.
Jack sat on the counter by the sink, silently, falling into the old routine.
Even when he had courted Sarah, he'd show up at the Jacobs' and Dave would fix him up. Sarah'd offer, but Dave would always be the one, dabbing gently at the cuts with a wet cloth.
"Who was it this time?"
"Who do you think?
"Delancey boys?"
He just nodded and gasped as David put some kind of ointment on the bruises. He was starting to feel like hell. They did a number on him. Taking on two could really wreck a guy. Plus, he hadn't eaten or slept too well in a while. And he was just so tired.
"How'd you do?" David betrayed himself. A little smile and a guilty look in his eye. It didn't matter how civil he'd been with Jack lately when they sold. Separating far to hock papes. They talked about nothing but strategy.
He was terse.
He was pissed.
Jack hadn't had a clue what he did or how to make him feel better, but he knew one thing. He was getting his Davey back tonight.
He stayed for dinner and was really fed for the first time in a few nights. Had to love Esther. She never let Jack leave without feeding him. Usually more than he needed.
"Stay the night Jack," It was an order from Dave. Not a request. Almost a plea. "Stay."
"Sure, Davey. Why not?"
He laid down in the bed across from David's. It was Sarah's old bed. He'd snuck in when she was alone and had a time in this bed. Sarah was married now, he learned. Found some real nice guy with a good job. He wanted to be jealous. Because he'd laid in her bed first. The thing was, he was always busy thinking of the other bed across the room.
He was almost asleep when David spoke through the darkness and street noise.
"What was it about this time?"
"Uhh—""Tell me Jack."
"You. And uh—me. And uh—Davey, what if I told you that I thought I was… They called you a fag. And uh, implied that…"
"Oh."
"So I soaked 'em."
"Why?"
"Cause… I don't want 'em saying nothing about you. Not a word."
Jack spiraled back to the night before he left Sarah. The night he kissed David. Just once. Real soft, right on the lips.
David laid down in the bed with him. Warm and real for once. He grabbed his hand. And just like that, Jack could focus on this bed. He kissed him on the lips again. First time he'd ever kissed a Jacobs and not felt guilty.
David wanted to be mad about the fight. He just didn't have it in him to be mad at Jack. Especially as he had his fingers in his hair. You could only be so mad about a guy who'd fight two guys who were twice his size for you.
He didn't have to share that with Jack, though.
Right now, he didn't have to say anything. All he had to do was press into his body and steady his breath so it didn't shake