Title: Five Times Jack and David Might Have Kissed
Feedback: Any and all constructive criticism would be lovely, whether
e-mailed or left in a review.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 'Tis rather unfortunate.
Pairing: Jack/David
Notes: Written for the amazing PoisonIvory as a "5 things" prompt
response at LJ.
Five Times Jack and David Might Have Kissed
By Angel of Harmony/Harmony/Jen
Jack pushes him up to the wall, roughly, yelling something about jail and family and David doesn't want to hear any of it, won't listen to a word he says. Because this is Jack, and David is going to rescue him, damn it. He's going to be the strong one, for once. "Now thanks for what you done, but you get outta here," Jack says, removing his hands, and all David can think to do is to grab him back, twist his hand in Jack's lapels and pull until they're standing chest to chest..
"No." His voice is adamant, chin jutted out, but he's not even sure what he's trying to achieve. And then their faces are an inch apart and David doesn't think at all, just leans in and kisses Jack and doesn't let go. Jack's mouth stays closed under his and all four of their eyes are open, wide and scared, and just as Jack's lips start to part the tiniest bit he's pushing David away, back against the wall.
"I don't understand," David nearly whispers, and he's not sure if he's talking about the kiss or the aborted rescue.
"I don't understand neither, but just get out of here!" Jack yells back, wild-eyed, pushing David away from the wall and out into the alley. David turns back, scared and confused, wanting to say something else, wanting to apologize, wanting to grab Jack again and force him to come with him. But all he does is walk away.xxxx
David stared at Jack across the rooftop, arms crossed protectively. "I'm not Sarah, Jack."
"No, Dave. You got it all backwards." Jack stepped forward, and David took a step back, and they found themselves against the edge of the rooftop, jagged bricks pressing into the small of David's back. "Sarah isn't you."
David took a breath and held it, closing his eyes, shoring up a million arguments in his mind. But when he opened his eyes again Jack's face filled his whole field of vision, and he found himself lifting his chin almost against his will, uncrossing his arms, reaching up to touch Jack's cheek. Two mouths touched, lips and tongues catching soft and wet, and David prayed his sister would someday forgive him.
xxxx
Sarah was getting married. Eli was a good boy of moderate means, and when she was with him Sarah was happier than David had ever seen her. But as the wedding approached, the house became a frenzy of last-minute planning, and David found himself yearning for even a few minutes of quiet.
As luck would have it, a week before the wedding, David's parents decided to visit Eli's family for the weekend to plan last-minute wedding details. They brought Sarah, and Les, too, because he was so young, but Eli's family didn't have that much room in their apartment, and David consequently found himself home alone.
Jack, ever the opportunist, came over to keep him company, carrying a bottle of whiskey and a devilish grin. They sat on the edge of David's bed, passing the bottle back and forth, staying up until the wee hours and talking about papes and the future and Sarah, about everything and nothing. After awhile, the conversation petered out, and a comfortable, tipsy quiet descended.
The silence had reigned for a few moments when Jack leaned over, a little drunkenly, with a look on his face like he'd just thought of something to say. But as he moved in, his nose bumped into David's, and David froze for a reason he couldn't explain. Jack cocked his head, looking confused and thoughtful all at once, and then he leaned in and kissed him. And continued kissing him. And David kissed him back.
Eventually they fell asleep on top of each other, passed out from the liquor, and the next morning they hung their heads over chamber pots, releasing the results of the night's debauchery, and didn't say a word. David's parents came back later that afternoon, and Jack left the apartment with a curt bow and a look of goodbye in his eyes.
He didn't come to the wedding.
xxxx
"You could come with me," Jack says, staring out at the dark windows of the tenement across the way, not meeting David's eyes. "We could get a ranch together, raise some cattle, live free. That's what the West's all about, Dave."
"I have a life here, Jack. I've got obligations. A family to take care of. I can't just follow you on some random whim you've gotten into your head." The wind sifts through David's hair as he speaks, a curl falling onto his forehead. Jack reaches up to brush it back, but David catches his wrist, his eyes narrowed in a silent "don't."
"It's not a random whim, Dave, and you know it. It's something I gotta do. If I don't, it's gonna eat me up inside for the rest of my life. I gotta know what it's like." Jack's voice turns into a whisper. "But I'll come back someday. I swear."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jack," David warns, all hard bitterness and shielded pain.
"I don't," Jack replies. And he grabs David by the shoulders, running one hand up the back of his neck to tangle in the windswept curls, and kisses him hard on the mouth. "I always keep my promises, Davey."
Then he pulls back, leaping down to the next level of the fire escape, and a second later he's gone.
xxxx
"Ten years today," Jack muses, looking at the cheap calendar tacked to their wall. "Ten years since the first day of the strike." He turns to David, sitting at their rickety wooden table with his typewriter in front of him, and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Hmm?" David asks, distracted, but he stops clacking the keys long enough to look up. "Did you say something?"
Jack leans down and gives David a quick peck on the lips. "Nothing important, Davey." David smiles vaguely, resting his head for a moment against Jack's hip, then resumes his typing.
Jack steps back, crossing the room to the stove to check on dinner. He hurries enough to stop the pot from overflowing, but still takes the time to tap his finger against the calendar on the way, a smile on his face.