I KNOW IT'S SHORT; DON'T KILL ME. (AU WHERE THE WORD "BOYFRIEND" WAS USED IN 1899 AND GAYS WERE ACCEPTED)
Jack's paintbrush glided over the paper, leaving a bright trail of orange behind it. Crutchie watched him in amazement and wondered how he made painting look so easy. It was early in the morning, they were both sitting in the penthouse, and Jack was painting the sunrise. Crutchie smiled as he looked at Jack's artwork. It wasn't quite done, but Crutchie already knew that it was going to look amazing. Jack had captured the alpenglow perfectly with a mixture of yellow and orange. It was almost identical to the actual sunrise in front of them.
Around ten minutes later, Jack was finally done. He nudged Crutchie and showed him the painting. "Whaddya think?" Jack asked him.
Crutchie's face lit up as he admired Jack's work. "It's amazing!" He said, grinning at Jack.
Jack shook his head and smiled. "Thanks," He muttered, "But I wouldn't say it's AMAZING-"
"What? Stop talking, now," Crutchie frowned, cutting him off. "You got so much talent, Jack!"
"No, I-"
Crutchie cut him off once again. "You're talented, and you're not allowed to say otherwise. I've never met anyone who could paint as good as you. You didn't even have any training; you're just naturally good at it! You're the best person in the world, Jack. You're a great artist, an amazing boyfriend-"
His rambling was suddenly stopped by Jack gripping his shoulders, pulling him in, and kissing him hard. A strange feeling of happiness filled Crutchie's stomach as he let Jack's hands trail down his back and then to his wasit. Crutchie wrapped his arms around Jack's neck and breathed in his scent, a warm, musty mixture of paint, dirt, and a little bit of sweat. He pulled himself as close to Jack as he possibly could and kissed him back hard. For minutes, he was lost in the kiss, not thinking about anything else. Crutchie didn't care if the entire city of Manhattan saw them. In that moment, it was just him and Jack. Nobody else mattered.
To his disappointment, Jack eventually pulled away. Crutchie unwrapped his arms from his neck and looked at him with round, innocent eyes.
"Will you shut up and stop ramblin' now?" Jack grinned, panting ever so slightly.
Instead of answering, Crutchie engulfed Jack in a tight hug, burying his face in his chest. Jack's familiar scent returned, and Crutchie once again turned warm and giddy inside. Jack's arm hugged Crutchie back, and one of his hands rested on top of Crutchie's head.
"Hey, Crutch," Jack said softly, "I love ya."
Crutchie looked up at him. "I love you too, Jack."