Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jack sees him on the subway nearly every morning. Living in Manhattan while working in Brooklyn means he has a pretty lengthy commute. He doesn’t necessarily mind the length of the commute, though. Not when he has Pretty Subway Boy to look at and daydream about. (Plus a good pair of headphones and a Spotify Premium account.)

Pretty Subway Boy is tall. Taller than Jack, that’s for sure. He’s also pretty built, too. Not necessarily buff, but he’s toned. You can tell, even through his clothes. He’s got these beautiful brown eyes that Jack has been able to catch a few times. They normally come with a polite smile, which is just about enough to make Jack’s knees buckle. He’s always dressed nicely–he definitely works some kind of office job. 

It’s a little pathetic, really, and he knows that. The first time he mentioned having a subway crush, his friends teased the hell out of him. Having an anonymous crush at the age of twenty-seven is not a common occurrence. 

His roommate and childhood best friend, Racetrack Higgins (Don’t ask, it’s a long story. Jack is just glad he escaped the long term nickname ‘Cowboy’) encouraged him to talk to this mysterious man and oh, I don’t know, get his number “like a normal person”. Race’s words, not Jack’s. Jack, however, is extremely not normal so he can’t just do that. Sure, he was in a frat in college, so he knew how to hit on strangers with a red solo cup in hand, but unfortunately that skill has gotten worse and worse as he’s gotten older. He’s only been out of college for about five years, but he swears he has lost all sense of flirting since then. He feels like an old man and it’s horrible.

It doesn’t really matter to him though because as much as he would love to take Pretty Subway Boy out on a date or even learn his name, Jack just simply never has the chance. Every time he feels he works up his confidence, after trying not to stare too hard at him the whole ride,  someone gets on or off that gets in his way. These are the times when he absolutely hates the subway. Sure, he might still be able to see Pretty Subway Boy out of the corner of his eye or through the sea of people, but it’s never as good as when he gets a clear view.

Jack tries to rationalize this crush, if you can even call it that, by telling himself people have crushes like this all the time. It’s a normal thing in college to have a ‘campus crush’–someone you absolutely do not know but cross paths with often on campus and find attractive. Apparently, he was this for some other people, but he never had one. So he’s obviously just having it now! Nothing wrong with being a late bloomer, right?

When Jack told Race there’s absolutely no way he’ll talk to Pretty Subway Boy, Race suggested stalking him, which Jack immediately said no to.

“Race, I’m not following him off the subway. That’s so creepy.”

“It’s for the plot, Jack!”

Race is a little delusional when it comes to romance, and maybe it’s rubbed off on Jack, but that’s not the point. (Race will argue, literally until the cows come home, that his delusions landed him in the most stable relationship in the history of their friend group. He and Albert just celebrated their five year anniversary.) The point is that Jack finds this guy extremely attractive and plans on doing nothing about it. Sure, he’s had a few dreams about this guy. And yeah, maybe he’s imagined what he would look like not in his work clothes. But he doesn’t even know what this guy's voice sounds like. He doesn’t know his name. He literally doesn’t know anything about him. Pretty Subway Boy is just a stranger, someone he’ll never know. So, he’ll remain Pretty Subway Boy. 

———

Jack opens the doors to his tattoo shop. He’s content to find his friends–coworkers, technically–have already opened and set up at their stations. 

He owns the shop with three of his best friends from college. They met as freshmen when they all pledged to the same fraternity. Albert DaSilva started as a photography major but bought a tattoo gun second hand and started to play around on himself and his friends. He quickly decided tattooing is way cooler than photography, so he switched majors. Jack himself started as a visual arts major but quickly fell in love with the art of tattooing. A handful of his first tattoos were done on the floor of Albert’s freshman dorm room. Albert let Jack try the gun a couple of times and Jack was hooked. He, too, switched majors. Spot Conlon went into college as a tattoo arts major and stuck with it. He often jokes with the other two that they were just so obsessed with him that they had to switch majors to be more like him.

Their senior year, they each apprenticed a different tattoo artist in the city. This was their opportunity to really start doing their own work and get paid for it. They each loved their mentors–they all learned so much. At the start of their last semester, they talked about their dreams to start their own tattoo shops. They had the brilliant idea to start one together. They had absolutely no clue how to go about actually starting a business, so they had to bring in an outside source. 

That’s how Crutchie Morris got roped into the whole operation. He was a business and marketing major. He was a part of their friend group, along with some of the other frat boys, but didn’t spend as much time with them due to having a different major. He had absolutely no clue what he wanted to do with his degree, he sort of went with his major because he figured it was versatile enough to find a decent job after graduation, so he jumped on the opportunity.

So, that’s how JAS Tattoo was born. They argued over the name, a lot , but settled on the three artists initials. They tried piecing together their last names, but Kelonilva and DeConlly were quickly shut down. Crutchie thought those names were too intricate, which was something he had learned in school. “Nobody will remember a name like that if they see it only once on social media. Plus it sounds like a ship name. JAS is way better.” He definitely had a point. They tried to fit Crutchie’s name in there somewhere, but the only combination that sounded okay was JACS and they all agreed that sounded too much like Jack. There were no hard feelings about it. Crutchie didn’t mind not having his name in the title–he wasn’t one of the artists so he didn’t feel he deserved it. He now works as their receptionist and handles their paperwork. 

Jack walks over to his station, drops his stuff, and starts to set up for the day. He sits in his chair and opens his computer to check his schedule. Thank god for his color coded calendar. He has two appointments in the morning, but the rest of his day is open. Maybe he’ll get some walk-ins, or he’ll just sit and talk to whoever isn’t busy. 

Spot groans, loud and long. Jack looks up at Spot, who’s currently laying face down on his tattoo chair. He looks over at Albert, who looks just as confused. Spot’s not usually dramatic, but if he spends too much time hanging out with Race, he gets infected. 

Albert, who has been dating Race for years and is therefore trained, speaks first. “You good, Spot?” 

Spot just groans. He rolls over and throws his arm over his eyes. 

“Are you, like, dying or just spending too much time with Race?” Jack asks. It’s a genuine question, but Spot moves his arm to shoot daggers at Jack. 

“My stomach is fucked up ,” Spot replies, thankfully sparing them the details. “I think I ate something bad. Real bad. Like those tacos our junior year bad.”

Jack, Albert, and Crutchie wince. Their junior year of college, they had the brilliant idea to see who could eat the most tacos from a shitty food truck in the city. The competition was fun–the aftermath was not . The next day, they became trauma bonded. They saw things no best friends should have to see from each other. 

Crutchie sympathetically rubs his stomach, remembering the pain. “God, that was horrible. Why don’t you just go home?”

Spot groans again. “I have an appointment this afternoon for a guy who I think is becoming a regular. I’ve tattooed him twice before. He always comes with a design in mind, sits like a rock, and isn’t annoyingly chatty. He’s every tattoo artist's dream.”

That’s something Jack can agree with. They each get a good number of clients–enough to keep the shop open and pay their rent–but regulars are few and far between. Being in the city means they get a lot of drunk or stupid people. Money is money, art is art, so they try not to complain, but they all prefer their regulars. 

Jack glances down at his computer to double check his schedule, then shuts it and puts it aside. “Not that I’m trying to steal your guy,” he starts, “but I’m free all afternoon if you don’t want to cancel.”

Spot sits up, groaning as he does so, because apparently Spot is the king of groaning today. “I’ll call him. Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” Jack replies. 

Spot stands, grabs his phone, and moves towards the back of the shop to make the call. 

“Let’s get some tunes bumpin,” Crutchie says as he shuffles their Spotify playlist. 

Albert snorts, shaking his head. “You’re a dork,” he says, walking over to Crutchie’s desk. “At least let me queue some stuff.”

“You could just add it to the playlist,” Crutchie says as Albert pushes his swivel chair away from the computer. 

“Yeah, but then I have to wait for them to play,” Albert says it like it’s obvious. “Race showed me this band, The Backseat Lovers, and they’re so good.”

Crutchie and Albert bicker over music. The four of them share a similar enough taste that they have a joined playlist that they shuffle everyday with little argument. Still, they all have some pretty strong feelings about their favorite artists. 

Spot walks over, phone in hand. “He’s yours now,” he says as he picks up his backpack. “Should be in at four. He’s normally pretty punctual.”

“Sweet,” Jack replies, shooting him a thumbs up. “Feel better, bro.”

“Thanks. And thanks again for taking the appointment.”

“No problem.”

Before Spot walks out the door, Crutchie walks over to him. Crutchie has this sick ass cane that he found on Etsy a couple of weeks ago and has been using it ever since. They start talking to each other, too quiet for Jack to hear, but he can see the heart eyes from here.

Jack looks at Albert and motions him over. Albert sits in Crutchie’s swivel chair and pushes himself over to Jack.

“Okay, so, they’re fucking, right?” Jack asks, motioning at Crutchie and Spot.

“I don’t know!” Albert says. “I’ve lived with them for years and I genuinely can’t tell. I’ve never really seen, or y’know heard anything from them, and Spot’s pretty loud when he–”

“Yeah, I got it, thank you–”

“But they make heart eyes at each other all of the fucking time. And with the amount of time I spend at you and Race’s place, they definitely could be hooking up without anyone knowing.”

“Which is a lot of time, by the way. When are you gonna start paying rent?” Jack teases.

Albert shrugs, resting his feet on Jack’s tattoo chair. “ I dunno. It’s kind of nice right now, honestly. Rent is cheaper in Brooklyn and it’s closer to work. But Race cooks for me and doesn’t make me do laundry.” He picks at the fabric of his jeans, just something to do with his hands. “It’s like having divorced parents, y’know? Two houses.”

“Yeah, divorced parents except you’re fucking one of them,” Jack laughs. “You guys gotta tone that down, by the way. You’re really loud when you–”

“Oh, I know. Race likes it,” Albert smirks.

Jack scoffs and pushes Albert’s feet away, forcing him to start rolling backwards. “I did not need to know that.”

Albert spins himself back to Crutchie’s desk. “Whatever!” He laughs. “And we’re not just ‘fucking’. We are in love,” he says dramatically. “You’re just jealous we have a stable relationship when all you have is a subway crush.”

Jack flips Albert off. He doesn’t care, though, he just laughs and starts messing with Spotify again.

Chapter Text

Jack’s morning sessions go smoothly. The first was a kid, freshly eighteen, who wanted a semicolon on the inside of his wrist. He’s done a handful of those before, so it was simple. He made small talk, as he normally does, but the kid wasn’t a big talker so he was content to work in silence. It didn’t take too long and the kid tipped well which is always nice. 

The second is a girl, around his age, who he’s never tattooed before. She’s got a handful of tattoos and he finds out through their small talk that she just moved to the city and desperately needs new ones. She has a loose idea for a design, so they sit while she explains what she wants and Jack sketches. She ends with a tarot card covering her bicep and she loves it. He gives her his card and hopes that she’ll be back.

Albert has an appointment around one, some buff middle aged guy who’s one of his regulars, and Jack eats his lunch at Crutchie’s desk. They chat about random things. Crutchie gets going about the sitcoms he’s been into lately and really, there’s no stopping that, so Jack smiles and nods. “How I Met Your Mother just got put on Netflix, so Spot and I will definitely be watching that,” Jack doesn’t miss how he says Spot and I , “because he’s never seen it. Isn’t that crazy? Oh, and we have to rewatch Young Sheldon before they come out with that spinoff about Georgie and– why are you looking at me like that?”

“What? Sorry, just sort of spaced out. So, you and Spot?” Jack did not space out, not one bit. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He also knows it probably won’t work, but he’s trying.

“Need to watch How I Met Your Mother and Young Sheldon. Oh, and then there’s–” 

Then Jack does actually space out, and he does feel kinda bad, but he doesn’t do it on purpose and he knows Crutchie doesn’t really care. Jack’s been medicated for his ADHD, thank god , but adderall can only do so much.

Albert finishes his appointment around three forty-five. It was a big piece on the guy’s calf that they’ve been working on for the last couple of weeks. When he walks out, Albert slumps and falls dramatically onto his chair. “Jesus, that piece is taking me for fucking ever.”

Jack grabs a seltzer from their fridge. He walks over to Albert, sympathetically pats him on the back, and hands him the drink. “Poor Albie. Busy creating beautiful artwork and getting paid for it,” he teases.

“Fuck you,” Albert replies as he takes the drink and cracks it open.  “That guy is nice, but he’s always really sweaty and has the same sense of humor as my dad.”

“At least he’s not homophobic,” Crutchie says. Their shop is full of pride stuff from flags on their walls to decals on their windows. They definitely don’t hide the fact that all four owners are queer.

“And he sits really well, too,” Jack adds. Some people move too much–are too antsy, too nervous. They all understand and do their best but it’s always easier to have someone who sits completely still.

They fall into a comfortable silence which is something that happens quite often around the shop. Crutchie pretends to be productive on his computer but everyone knows he’s playing The Sims 4. Jack scrolls endlessly on his phone, sending stupid TikToks back and forth with Race. Albert is just now getting around to eating his lunch. 

Albert’s phone rings, making Jack jump. He didn’t even realize how into the slime video he was until he snapped out of it. Albert answers as Jack runs a hand over his face. “I need better ways to pass time,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, that works,” Jack hears Albert say. “Cool, see you then.” Albert hangs up, takes another bite of his sandwich, and looks over at Jack who’s looking at him expectantly. “Kath’s coming in later,” he says with his mouth full. “Four-thirtyish. Getting another little dainty thing on her arm.”

Ah, Katherine Plumber. The girl who Jack made realize she’s a lesbian. The two dated for almost all of freshman year of college. Jack really liked her–she’s smart, and funny, and just a good person to be around. They were good together, too. He thought he was extremely lucky to be in such a steady relationship as a freshman. A week before they left for the summer, she came to his door on the verge of tears. 

“Don’t hate me,” she said, “but I think I’m a lesbian.”

Jack, of course, did not hate her. He hugged her and pulled her into his room. They sat on his bed and they talked it out. He was not mad at her, not once did it ever slip his mind, but he was a little sad. They immediately started joking about it and he knew they would be okay. They stayed close friends and still are to this day. She’s a journalist working classic office hours so they don’t see each other nearly as much as they should.

“Man, I miss her. We haven’t hung out in a while,” Jack says. “I haven’t even met her girlfriend yet.”

“You haven’t met Sarah?” Albert asks. “Race and I went on a double date with them last week. She’s really great and you can tell they really like each other.”

“Maybe it’s because he’s too busy fantasizing about his ‘Pretty Subway Boy’,” The air quotes Crutchie uses are not appreciated, “to search for a romantic partner.”

“Says the guy who refuses to admit he’s boning his roommate,” Jack teases. Boy is it fun to watch how quickly his face turns red.

Jack laughs, and right as Crutchie opens his mouth to retort, the bell that’s attached to their door rings. He looks up and quickly stops laughing. His stomach drops to his ass and he forgets how to breathe.

Holy shit. Pretty Subway Boy. Here. In his fucking tattoo shop.

Jack watches him walk up to Crutchie’s desk and hears him say, “Hi, I had an appointment at four with Spot, but he said he’s sick and another artist would tattoo me?”

“Albert,” Jack turns towards him. He prays that he will see the panic in his eyes and understand that it’s important when he says, “Can you come help me real quick?”

Albert walks over to Jack’s station and drops his voice so it can’t be heard at the front desk. “What’s up? You look like you might puke.”

Yeah, he really does feel like he’s about to puke because, “You didn’t tell me Spot’s client was Pretty Subway Boy!” He whispers. If Pretty Subway Boy overhears him, he will just have to fall into a hole and never show his face again.

“ That’s Pretty Subway Boy?!” Albert looks at the front desk, then back at Jack, and laughs like this is the funniest thing in the whole world. “Oh my god, I have to tell Race–”

“No, you have to help me! What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Jack is actually starting to freak out. He hasn’t been this nervous at his job in a long time. 

“I don’t know! Tattoo him and fall in love?” Albert looks over at him. He tries to get a good look at his face but is not too successful. “I don’t really see how this is a bad thing. You guys are finally meeting!”

“I’ve had borderline wet dreams about this guy,” Jack is full on whisper shouting now, “and I’m expected to act like I’ve never seen him before?” He starts biting his nails, something he does when he’s nervous. It’s a horrible habit but who gives a fuck about habits right now. “I can’t act normal around him. I’m going to say something stupid, like a teenage girl with a massive crush, and he’s gonna get so weirded out and then I’ll have to quit working here and run away and never be seen again.” He puts his head in his hands.

“Easy tiger,” Albert says, putting his hands on Jack’s shoulders. He knows Jack well enough to know when is the time to tease and when is the time to comfort. Right now, he’s getting the vibe that Jack is actually kind of freaking out, which is why he says, “Take a deep breath, dude. You’re gonna be okay. I’ll be right over there if you fuck up and say something dumb, and I’ll make an even dumber joke to get his mind off it. You’re one hell of an artist. Don’t get too in your head.” 

Jack does as he’s told. He takes a deep breath and shakes his hands to get the nerves out. He thanks the universe for his steady hands, because without them, he would not be able to do this job. He thanks the lord that he’s not at the point where he gets so nervous that his hands start to shake. He would fuck up Pretty Subway Boy’s tattoo and he would never be able to forgive himself.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jack replies after he takes a couple more deep breaths.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I will be texting Race every minute to update him.”

Jack punches Albert right as Crutchie calls him up to the front desk to introduce him to Pretty Subway Boy. He stands up, and it’s then that he realizes he’s wearing an old t-shirt and his ratty ass Converse. So totally not what he would’ve chosen to wear when meeting his secret crush, but he’s rolling with it. 

Jack walks up to them and smiles. He holds out his hand to Pretty Subway Boy. “Hi, I’m Jack Kelly. I’ll be your artist today.”

Pretty Subway Boy smiles and shakes Jack’s hand. Jack has to push away the butterflies that appear when their hands touch. “David Jacobs. It’s nice to meet you, Jack.”

They let go of each other's hands as Jack says, “It’s nice to meet you too, Davey.” The nickname slips out, but Jack gives nicknames to everyone, so he tries hard not to overthink it. “I’m sorry Spot had to cancel last minute. He did not look good this morning.”

Pretty Subway Boy– Davey –laughs, and even though Jack knows he’s just being polite, he feels those stupid butterflies again. “It’s alright, it happens to the best of us. Thanks for taking me, I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, yeah, not a problem! My schedule was open and I was hoping for a walk-in anyway.” Okay , he thinks, I’m making pretty normal conversation so far. Maybe this won’t be so bad. “I’ll take you back to my station and we can talk about what you want to get done.”

Davey nods. “Sounds good!” 

Jack shows him which station is his and has him sit down in his chair. Spot was right about him–he has a pretty good idea of what he wants. When Jack asks, Davey says, “So, I want the Star of David, like, right over my heart,” He explains, putting his hand where he wants it. “For size, I was thinking about the size of my palm? I don’t know, I sort of planned to just play around with the sizing until Spot found something I was happy with.”

Jack swallows. So, just to be clear, not only does he have to tattoo Davey, but he is going to have to be completely shirtless. “Yeah, I can totally do that. I can get started on sketching right now and print a few sizes til we find something you like.” 

“That’s great, thanks.” There’s that polite smile he sees on his commute. Is it just me or is it hot in here?

Jack grabs his iPad, one of the best business purchases he has ever made (Saying he was mainly buying it for work made him feel better about spending more than one paycheck on it.) and opens Procreate. And, because he’s a tattoo artist and talks to all his clients, he just has to talk to Davey. It’s totally not because he’s been waiting what feels like years to learn things about him. “So,” he starts, “Spot said this is your third tattoo?”

Davey nods. “Yeah. I have my birth flower on the inside of my bicep and a two-headed calf on my thigh.”

Jack recognizes these as popular spots for people who have to hide their tattoos for work. It’s then that he remembers how nicely Davey is dressed every morning which is why Jack says, “Sort of hidden spots for tattoos, yeah? What do you do for work?”

Davey chuckles, “I’m an english teacher at a high school right outside of Brooklyn,” he explains. “It’s not exactly against my contract to have tattoos, but I don’t think the head of my department likes me very much and she will use everything against me that she can. She already thinks that me having a pride flag in my classroom is ‘shoving the gay agenda down our students throats’ so I’m sure me having tattoos will mean I’m encouraging my underage students to get tattooed.” He rolls his eyes. Jack tries to nod along, tries to listen, but all he can focus on is the fact that Davey has a pride flag in his classroom. That means he’s queer, right? Or does he just like his students to know that he’s a safe person? “Plus, I don’t mind having them in harder to see spots. I get them for me, not necessarily to show them off, y’know?” He pauses and his face starts to turn pink. “Sorry, I just realized I’m totally rambling.”

Jack chuckles and shakes his head. “No, don’t apologize. I like to get to know my clients.” That isn’t a weird thing to say, right? He would say that to anyone and not just the guy who he’s been admiring for months. Right? Yes. Totally. He keeps talking to pull himself out of his head and back into the conversation, “I have tattoos everywhere,” he motions to his arms and legs that are almost full, “but the ones you can’t see might be some of my favorites.” And okay, maybe that isn’t exactly true, but he makes Davey smile.

They make small talk while Jack finishes the design. Jack tells Davey a brief history of JAS Tattoo and how he got into tattooing. He explains how he met Albert and Spot and tells him some of the insane things that their fraternity made them do. They find a design that Davey likes, and Jack prints it out in a few different sizes for Davey to try. He walks to the printer, which is right next to Albert’s station. Albert gives him a thumbs up and Jack flips him off.

Jack shows the different stencils to Davey and then, without any warning whatsoever, Davey takes his shirt off. Jack has to turn away and cough to try to hide how red his face gets. Davey holds up the stencils and stands to look at himself in the mirror. When he finds the one he likes, he turns to Jack. “Do you think this looks good?”

Jack doesn’t even think when he says, “I think you look really good.” Albert coughs, obviously trying to help out Jack. His eyes go wide when he realizes exactly what he just said. “I mean, uh–” 

The bell on their door rings at that moment and he is saved. He says a silent prayer to whatever in the universe is on his side today.

Jack turns towards the door, mostly to escape Davey’s gaze, even if just for a moment. He’s glad he does because he sees none other than, “Katherine Plumber!”

“Jack Kelly!” She smiles at him. He practically runs to the door to hug her. Their hug is short and sweet, just like they always are. Albert and Crutchie both come over to hug her too. “Where’s Spot?”

Crutchie shakes his head. “He ate something bad. Like junior year tacos bad. Looked on the verge of death this morning.” 

Katherine winces. Although she did not participate, she remembers the taco incident. “Yikes.”

“He only had one appointment today so he went home early,” Albert explains. “Jack was able to fit him in, but oh my god, you’ll never believe–”

“Davey?” Katherine doesn’t mean to cut him off, but she does anyway. “I didn’t know you got your tattoos here!”

“Hi,” Davey laughs a little. “Oh, yeah, I normally go to Spot, but he had to call out,” he explains. He feels a little awkward, since he’s become the center of the conversation and he’s shirtless, so he says, “I didn’t know you went here either! It’s good to see you.”

“Wait a minute,” Jack says, because he’s confused. How is it that his friends just casually know Pretty Subway Boy? “You two know each other?”

Katherine nods. “Davey is Sarah’s brother.” 

“Wow, what a small world we live in!” Albert says, and Crutchie snickers. “Kath, I have got something I need to tell you–”

“Well!” Jack says, clapping his hands. He knows exactly what Albert wants to tell her and he does not want Davey to hear it. “I’ve gotta get back to Davey, but don’t leave before saying bye, yeah?”

Katherine nods. She goes up to Crutchie’s desk to start filling out her paperwork as Jack walks back to his station. 

“So,” Jack starts, putting on a pair of gloves, “you like that size?” He motions to the stencil Davey is currently holding.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” and there is that polite smile again and god Jack just wants to die a little bit.

“Cool,” Jack says. “I’ll put the stencil on and then I’ll start working.”

Davey nods, thanks him again, and sits down in Jack’s chair to get ready.

Jack puts the stencil on, double checks with Davey he likes the placement, and starts getting his gun and ink ready. He hears Albert say, “So, you know about his subway crush, right?” He turns on his gun and lets the noise drown them out. 

Chapter Text

Spot was absolutely right about Davey–he doesn’t even flinch when the needle first hits his skin. That’s pretty rare in Jack’s experience. People almost always jump at the sound of the gun or the feeling of it. With Davey, though, it’s like he doesn’t even realize he’s getting a tattoo. Jack checks in on him occasionally, letting him know they can take a break if he needs, but Davey politely declines and sticks it out. 

Spot was also right about how chatty Davey is. They talk a little, just small talk, but Davey’s fine to go a few minutes without talking. He’s not afraid of the awkward silence like some people are. Jack doesn’t complain. He likes talking to Davey. 

Jack learns that Davey grew up in a Jewish household and was named for the Star of David, hence the want to get it tattooed. He tells Jack about his other two as well–the birth flower was his first that he got. He and his twin sister, Sarah, both got it together. He explains he got his second one, the two-headed calf, inspired by the poem. Two-Headed Calf by Laura Gilpin was one of the first poems Davey fell in love with. He says it made him realize how much he loves literature which led to him majoring in English education. He tells Jack he wants to get more tattoos, he just doesn’t know what yet. He wants to get something matching with his little brother, Les, but they haven’t come up with anything.

Before they know it, the tattoo is finished. Jack lets Davey look at it before he puts the second skin on. 

Davey smiles when he looks in the mirror. “Wow,” he says, still inspecting the tattoo. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much, Jack.”

Jack hates how giddy he feels when Davey says his name. “Of course man, anytime.” He really does mean that. He knows Davey is technically Spot’s client, but he would tattoo him whenever he asked. 

Jack has Davey sit in his chair again as he applies the second skin and walks him through the healing process. “I know you already know this, but just for the sake of not getting sued, I’m gonna tell you anyway.” That makes Davey laugh which makes Jack feel those stupid butterflies again. 

Unfortunately for Jack, Davey puts his shirt back on. Jack walks him to the front desk. To be fair, he does that with every client, but he just wants another opportunity to talk to Davey before he leaves. 

Davey pays and tips Jack well. More than average, he notices, but he thinks it’s just Davey being nice. He thanks Jack again and holds out his hand. Jack puts his hand in Davey’s and shakes. 

“I’ll see you around,” Davey says. He drops Jack’s hand and Jack has to suppress his frown. He waves to Katherine who’s currently sitting in Albert’s chair. “Bye Katherine!”

Albert pauses so she can lean over and wave to him. “Bye Davey!”

Davey smiles, thanks Crutchie and Jack again, tells them to tell Spot to feel better, and walks out. As soon as he’s out of view, Jack groans, stomps over to his chair, and faceplants on to it. He hears a chorus of laughter. 

“He is so fucking hot,” Jack whines, slightly muffled by his chair. “I think I’m going to throw up. I, like, need him.”

“Easy, Cowboy,” Crutchie laughs. 

“Katherine,” Jack sits up and turns to look at her. “Tell me he’s queer and single.”

Katherine giggles and nods her head. “That is one of the gayest men I know,” she says, “and Sarah’s always getting on his ass about finding somebody.”

“This is perfect,” Jack says. “How do I make him fall in love with me?”

It’s a serious question, but Katherine laughs. “Just be yourself.”

“Wrong,” Albert leans back to look at Jack. “You’re a loser,” he teases.

Katherine flicks him. “Can you ever play nice?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer. “If you and Davey get to the point where you’re, y’know, flirting or going on dates, just be yourself. The last thing you want is to change yourself for someone you barely know. Besides, you really don’t need to. You’re a good guy, and you’re funny, and you’re attractive. Anyone who doesn’t see that is stupid.”

Jack really didn’t expect her to say all of that, so he’s a little flustered, but he appreciates it all the same. Katherine is the best . “Why thank you, ex-girlfriend.” He walks over and places a kiss on her cheek. “You’re definitely my favorite ex.”

Katherine snickers. “I’m the only one you still talk to. But I’m flattered.” 

Albert finishes Katherine’s tattoo in the next couple of minutes. She’s slowly getting a patchwork sleeve and she absolutely loves it. Albert’s really good at fine line work which is exactly what she wants. Today, he did a moon cycle on her forearm, and she thanks him profusely. “It’s perfect Al, oh my god, I’m literally in love with it.” 

Albert laughs, “Of course. Anytime, Kath. And I mean that. I’ll clear my schedule for you.” He gives her a quick hug, careful not to hurt her arm, and then starts putting second skin on her.

“You know,” Katherine starts, “I’ve been talking to Sarah about hosting a little hangout for our friend group so she can meet everyone and so we can have the opportunity to see each other.” It’s not that they don’t hangout, it’s just that they’re all real adults with real jobs, so finding a time when everyone is free and not dead tired is hard. “I could talk to her about doing it soon. And I could see if Davey would want to come.”

“I think I would owe you favors for the rest of my life,” Jack says. He knows it’s dramatic, but he would do a lot to be able to talk to Davey again, especially outside of his place of work.

“Careful,” Crutchie warns. “She’ll hold you to that.”

They laugh, but Katherine agrees. Before she leaves, she says, “I’ll talk to Sarah and let you guys know.” They all hug her, but Jack gives her an extra long one and whispers his thanks.

———

When Jack gets home his apartment is empty. He drops his backpack and takes off his shoes. He’s hungry but really doesn’t feel like cooking, so he walks into their bathroom and turns the shower on.

He mentally runs through his day and he still can’t really believe what happened. What are the odds that the guy he’s been admiring on the subway for months is one of Spot’s regulars and comes in on a day when Spot has to call out? Bigger than he thought, apparently, because it happened. 

He isn’t really sure how he wants to go about this. He wants to take Davey out on a date, obviously, but Davey doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to just say yes to a date with someone he barely knows. He could be wrong, he barely knows Davey, but that’s just the vibe he gets.

If that is the case, he will have to play the waiting game. Maybe he’ll really bond with Davey at Katherine’s hangout. Maybe they’ll talk about what music they like and their favorite movies. And then maybe Davey will realize how much they have in common and want to hang out with Jack more. And Jack will obviously say yes, so they’ll have movie nights or go on a walk in the city. And then, Davey will realize his immense and ever growing love for Jack, and ask him on  a date. Jack can’t say yes fast enough. He’ll ask he wants a kiss, and Davey will say yes, and then–

Okay, so maybe he’s a little delusional. But that’s never hurt anyone, right? 

He sighs and continues with his shower. He tries to keep his thoughts relatively Davey-free but he finds that’s harder than it seems. 

He finishes his shower and changes into some pajamas which is really just a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt from when he was in highschool. It’s the perfect amount of worn in that makes it so comfy. He grabs his phone and his sketchbook and wanders into the living room. He flops onto the couch and wriggles around until he’s comfortable. He shuffles a playlist and starts drawing random shit. Anything he can see from where he’s sitting–his phone, the plants that Race tries to keep alive, his towel that he left crumpled up on the floor, the door to Race’s messy room.

He has no clue how long he’s been drawing for when he hears the front door open. He turns and sees Race slipping his shoes off. “Hey,” he says as he puts his bag down.

“Oh my god, Racer, you will never believe the day I had.”

“Ooh, let me guess.” Race walks over to the couch and pushes Jack’s feet out of the way so he has somewhere to sit. “Spot ate something equivalent to bad tacos and had to go home so you took his appointment for him and it turned out to be Pretty Subway Boy? Who’s also Katherine’s girlfriend's brother?” He shrugs. “Yeah I think I believe it.”

“Albert fucking sucks,” Jack replies. 

Race laughs. “Nah, I think he’s pretty great.” He stretches and rests his feet on Jack’s lap. Jack pretends to be annoyed, but Race knows he’s not really. “So, how’re you feeling about all that?”

Jack leans his head back and groans. “He is so hot. He took his shirt off without any warning and I thought I was gonna die.” He sits up to look Race in the eye. “He is so fucking endearing without even trying. He’s a highschool English teacher. His first tattoo was a matching one with his sister and he wants to get a matching one with his little brother.”

Race sympathetically pats his leg. “Yikes. Seems like you’re down bad, buddy.”

“I am! And I barely even know him!” Jack scrubs his hands over his face.

“Don’t give up yet,” Race says. “Now that you know his name and have actually talked to him, instead of just staring him down on the subway,” Jack rolls his eyes, “there’s a good chance you’ll have the opportunity to talk to him more, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack sighs. “Kath is trying to plan a get together and is gonna invite him.” He pauses for a moment. “Am I a loser? How pathetic is this whole thing?”

Race throws his head back in laughter. “It’s a little pathetic, I won’t lie,” he says, “and you’ve always been a bit of a loser.” That earns him a flick from Jack. “But, I dunno, you’re not stalking him or anything. It just so happens that he knows one of your best friends. You probably would’ve met him eventually.”

That does make Jack feel better. He looks back down at his sketchbook. “Wait a minute,” he realizes, “who was the one that suggested stalking him?” 

“Well, that’s my cue.” Race stands up and stretches. “I’m gross so I’m gonna go shower. I’ll make dinner after. Chicken alfredo sound good to you?”

“Yes,” Jack replies. Race may be chaotic as hell and a little scary in the kitchen, but man that guy can cook. Jack almost never does, since he’s not very good at it, but Race is very good at it so he cooks them dinner almost every night. Jack does most of the dishes to make up for it. Their friends often tease them for this, comparing them to an old married couple, but when you’ve been living together for almost ten years, that’s what happens. They have a dynamic that works well and they’d be stupid to not take advantage of it. 

Race mock salutes and walks into the bathroom. 

Jack gets back to drawing random shit. Creating art just for the fun of it, and not having to worry about whether someone will like it or not, has always been really relaxing. Of course he loves his job and he loves seeing his art make people happy, but there’s always a weight attached to that. When it’s just Jack sitting on his couch, he’s the only one who can criticize his art. 

Jack feels his phone buzz and reaches for it. It’s a notification from Katherine in a group chat. 

kath <3: hangout at my place tmr!! there will be drinks and games 

kath <3: bring snacks if u want them i am poor lol

He looks at the contacts in the chat–Katherine, Race, Albert, Spot, Crutchie, and two he doesn’t have saved. Sarah and Davey, he assumes. 

Oh. Sarah and Davey. So Davey will be there, right? 

alBUTT: WOOO PARTY AT KATHERINES

kath <3: didn’t say party but whatever floats ur boat 

spottie: can we play fuck u uno

crutch guy: no. that game ruins friendships. 

Unknown Number: What’s fuck you Uno?

spottie: oh u’ll see 

alBUTT: HELL YEA

Jack rolls his eyes and sets his phone down. It will be a fun, completely stress free hangout with his friends. Right?

Chapter Text

As Jack and Race approach Katherine’s apartment building–being the only one in the friend group that has her own apartment really supports her ‘I am a badass woman who works hard and spends money wisely’ mentality–Jack realizes how nervous he actually is. He feels a little stupid about it since it’s just a hangout with his friends. It’s insane how one guy can make his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest. 

“You alright over there, loverboy?” Race teases. He opens the door to the lobby of the building and buzzes Katherine’s apartment. He doesn’t wait for her answer. He walks right over to the elevator and presses the up button. 

“Is this what it felt like when you had that big fat crush on Albert?” Jack asks. The doors for the elevator ping and open. They step inside. 

Race sighs. “Yeah.” He presses the number for Katherine’s floor. “I kind of wanted to die everytime I saw him but also wanted to be around him twenty-four seven. Crushes are weird .”

Jack can agree with that. He hasn’t felt this way about someone since the boy he dated in his junior year. His name was Blake and they had met in the second semester of their sophomore year in their geography class. He seemed like a nice enough guy, so they started hanging out. Jack was bisexual, he’d known since his senior year of high school, but this was the first guy he ever really had a crush on. They texted throughout the entire summer flirting nonstop. When they came back to school to start their junior year, they started officially dating. Jack was in love with Blake. Everything was absolutely perfect for a while–he was caring, loving, affectionate, passionate. Everything Jack wanted in a partner. In the spring, Jack got more busy with his classes, which put them in a bit of a spat. He felt like an asshole for not having as much free time and Blake made him feel like one. Once finals were over, though, they hung out basically all the time. That summer was practically perfect. They spent a lot of time alone. Sure, Blake didn’t really allow time for Jack to see his other friends, but he was in love so that’s all that really mattered. And yeah, Blake would raise his voice–or, god forbid, his hand–when he got upset with Jack, but he’d figured that’s what it was like to date a guy. In the fall of their senior year, Jack finally came to his senses, thanks to his friends. He dumped Blake and hasn’t been in a relationship ever since. 

Sure, he’s gone on dates and had some late night hookups, but nothing serious. It’s not that he hasn’t wanted to, it’s just that he hasn’t found anyone who had interested him enough. Ever since establishing his subway crush on Davey, he hasn’t really wanted to see anyone else. 

“Hello? Earth to Jack?” The doors to the elevator have opened on Katherine’s floor and Race has stepped out. He has his hand on the doors so they won’t close. 

“Sorry,” Jack replies, snapping out of whatever place he just went to. He steps out of the elevator.

“Thinking about your insane crush on the guy you’ve only ever talked to once?” Race asks as they walk down the hallway. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Kelly.”

“I hate you.” Jack knocks on Katherine’s door. 

Before Race has a chance to answer, the door opens. Katherine is smiling with a glass of wine in hand. “Welcome,” she gestures inside. 

“Thanks,” Jack smiles. 

They walk inside and Katherine closes the door behind them. It seems they’re the last to show which is not surprising. Race’s dance rehearsal ran later than he thought it would. 

Jack surveys the room. Katherine walks over to a woman in the kitchen who he’s never seen. Sarah, he assumes. In the living room, there’s his normal gang. Albert, Spot, Crutchie, and Davey. His breath catches in his throat. 

He knew that Davey would be here. He was in the groupchat and Katherine invited him for Jack. But still. 

He watches Race wander into the living room and practically sit on Albert’s lap. Race has never had a problem invading others personal space, especially when it’s someone he knows and loves. Jack watches as Race says hi to everyone in the room, including Davey, and watches as he tells a joke that makes Davey laugh. Jack feels himself go pink just from the sight of it. 

God, he’s going to need a drink to get through tonight. 

He wanders into the kitchen. He opens Katherine’s fridge and starts digging through it to see what she has to offer. 

“Yes, Jack, you may search my fridge for whatever your heart desires,” Katherine rolls her eyes. She’s not really annoyed though. She would be a lot more passive aggressive if she was.

“Thanks, Kath! I knew you wouldn’t mind, which is why I didn’t ask!” Jack cheekily grins as he grabs a beer and pops it open. He only gets a sip into it before he hears Katherine clear her throat. He looks at her, confused, until he realizes she’s subtly motioning to the woman next to her. 

“Right, sorry,” Jack puts his beer down. “Jack Kelly. You must be Sarah.” He shakes her hand. 

“That would be me.” Sarah smiles. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Jack Kelly.”

Jack raises an eyebrow at Katherine. “All good things, I hope.”

Sarah shrugs. “Some pretty alright things,” she teases. He can see why Katherine likes her. “You’re one of the co-owners of the tattoo shop where I got mine done, right? JAS Tattoo?”

Jack nods. “Yeah, I’m the ‘J’ in the name,” he chuckles. “I own it with the two guys that are covered in tattoos and the one with the cane,” he nods towards the living room. 

“Ah,” Sarah says. “Your stuff is really good. David showed me the one he got yesterday. He really loves it.”

Jack tries hard to suppress the blush he feels rising to his cheeks. “I’m glad!” He needs to change the topic before he turns bright red. “Kath told me you guys met through work?”

“Yeah,” Sarah replies. “I just started working in the same office as an editor of the same paper.”

Before Jack has a chance to answer, Spot is calling him to the living room. “Jack! It’s Fuck You Uno time!”

Jack can’t help but grin. “Sorry Sarah, this is important business.”

Sarah snorts. “Yeah, sure. Go play your card game, frat boy,” she laughs. 

Jack concludes that he likes her. He’s decently protective of his friends, so when Katherine told him she started seeing someone, he was a little weary. He knows Katherine knows what she likes and is smart enough to not date an asshole. But still. He worries. (And maybe it’s because of his own relationship experience, but that’s something he hasn’t unpacked yet.)

He moves into the living room and sits in the only open space–on the floor next to Davey. 

“Hey Jack, it’s nice to see you again!” Davey smiles. Jack wants the floor to swallow him whole. 

“Yeah, you too!” Jack smiles right back at him. 

“So, what exactly is Fuck You Uno?” Davey asks. He sounds hesitant, which makes Spot laugh. 

“It is one of the most stupid things to have ever come out of a night of drinking in college,” Spot says. “It’s Uno with a bunch of crazy rules and cards we made up.” He holds up the ziplock bag that holds all of the cards they’ve created over the course of playing this game. It’s about five decks put together. Half of them have something written on them with black sharpie.

“There are plus six cards, multiply by four cards, instant uno cards, everyone else draws four cards, ex cetera,” Crutchie explains as he opens the bag. “They’re all meant to fuck over every player except the person playing the card. Hence the name. It's great when you have the cards but horrible to be on the receiving end of them.”

Davey nods. “I see.”

“Some of them are really fucking dumb,” Race takes the cards from Crutchie, separates them into five mostly even piles, and passes them out for people to shuffle. Five decks is way too much to shuffle at once. Something they learned from their years of playing, obviously. “Some of them make no sense, like, at all, unless you were there when it was created. If you need help, just ask Jack.” He winks. Jack wants to kill him. 

Race deals the cards and leaves the others as a big stack in the middle. Jack is sitting to the left of Race, so, “You go first Cowboy.”

Jack rolls his eyes and plays a card. The nickname has gone away for the most part (it’s not as permanent as Race or Spot or Crutchie), but Race still likes to slip it in here or there. 

“Cowboy?” Davey grins. He plays a card. 

“Jack was obsessed with cowboys when he was younger. In elementary school on the playground, that’s all he wanted to play. He was convinced he was gonna move out west and work on a farm,” Race explains. “Everyone draw four,” he says as he plays a card.

Everyone groans and there’s a chorus of ‘Fuck you’s thrown Race’s way. “See, Davey?”

Davey laughs and nods. “Yeah. I get it now.”

They play for a bit. There are winners in Fuck You Uno, it just takes a while to get there. There’s one point where Spot has to draw thirty-two cards and Jack’s a little scared he may punch a hole in the wall or something.

While they’re playing, there are a few cards that confuse Davey, so he leans over to Jack and whispers to him to ask what it is. He doesn’t want other people hearing what he has, so he gets right next to Jack’s ear. It sends a chill down his spine every time .

Everyone plays the game with some beer or shitty cocktail next to them. Once they get bored enough of Fuck You Uno, they play some stupid drinking game. Jack’s smart enough to not get too wasted–he knows Race will and a drunk Race does not know how to navigate the subway system. Jack gets tipsy, but nothing he can't handle. He’s still sitting next to Davey who is apparently very lightweight. To be fair, Jack did switch to water a while ago, but Davey is starting to get more giggly.

“One time, when we were in high school,” Race starts. 

Oh god, Jack thinks. Seeing as he used the words ‘we’ and ‘high school’ in the same sentence, it can only be a story involving himself. Race’s stories are stupid enough when he’s sober. Drunk Race only makes sense about half of the time.

“Jack came over and we drank a little. I had, like, one beer, and thought he would too. But he got wasted in my basement. I mean, absolutely obliterated,” Race giggles at himself. “He forgot his name and deadass panicked because of it.” The group laughs. “He threw up so much the next morning. He was convinced he had alcohol poisoning.”

The group laughs as Jack rolls his eyes. He remembers that night, although not much of it. “Okay Racetrack, if that’s how you want to play.” He takes a moment to recall a dumb story. “The first time Race and I got high–well, first of all, I thought he was gonna die from how hard he was coughing,” Jack laughs. “Anyways, we went to this park at, I don’t know, midnight or something? And afterward, when we were walking back to my house, Race forgot how to walk.”

The whole room laughs, even Race. He can’t deny that it’s a funny story.

“Okay, it wasn’t that bad,” Race tries to defend himself.

“Race, you were stuck standing in the same spot for an entire minute,” Jack deadpans.

“I didn’t know how much to smoke and you just let me keep going!” Race says. 

Jack rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink. It’s all in good fun, the teasing between him and Race. It’s how they’ve always been and probably always will be.

“Ooh, I got a good Jack story!” Crutchie pipes up.

“I have a really good Albert one,” Spot smirks.

That’s how the group ends up trading embarrassing high school, and eventually, college stories about each other. They tease each other, and laugh, and it’s a good time.

Davey stays in his spot next to Jack the whole time. He keeps throwing his head back when he laughs and bumps Jack’s arm every time. Not that Jack is complaining, per say, it’s just that it’s a little more touch than he was expecting. He has to remind himself that Davey is getting drunk and this means absolutely nothing.

There’s one point where Davey’s laughing so hard that he momentarily rests his head on Jack’s shoulder to steady himself. Jack has to try his best not to tense up. It’s not that he doesn’t want Davey there, it just caught him by surprise. He wants Davey on his arm all the time. He tries to snap himself out of his thoughts and back into the conversation. Easier said than done, he realizes.

Jack tries to communicate with Race with only his eyes, but Race is too drunk to catch it. Albert seems pretty drunk too. He can tell Spot’s had a bit too much and Crutchie is busy trying to make sure nobody does anything stupid. Katherine is sitting at her island in her kitchen, talking to Sarah, and they both seem sober enough. A bit of a toss up, going to the girl who he just met tonight who is also the sister of his crush, but he’s losing his mind next to Davey. 

Jack stands up, careful not to disrupt anyone, and walks into the kitchen. He pulls a stool up next to Katherine and says, “I am going to shoot myself.” He puts his head down on the island.

Katheirne laughs and sympathetically pats his back. “There, there, Jack.”

“What’s up with him?” Sarah asks. Jack silently prays Katherine won’t tell her the details, but of course she does.

“He has a massive crush on your brother,” Katherine says. She runs a gentle hand through his hair, trying to comfort him despite teasing him. It’s something she did when they were dating and it just sort of never stopped. Jack will never admit how much he loves it.

Jack groans as Sarah laughs. “He’s drunk and gotten way too friendly,” he whines. “I know it doesn’t mean anything to him and he’ll forget it in the morning but god it’s driving me crazy.”

“David gets practically wasted when he has more than one drink,” Sarah explains.

Jack finally lifts his head to look across the apartment at Davey. He knows he’s staring, but he doesn’t care. He’s so pretty, from his lips to his rosy cheeks to his nose to his eyes, and Jack really could just stare at him forever. He decides that the universe hates him when Davey turns and catches his eye. 

Davey grins and Jack thinks he may fall off of his stool. “Jack!” He gets up, stumbles a little, but moves towards the kitchen.

“Well, you two have fun in here. Don’t have sex on the counter,” Katherine teases as her and Sarah leave the room.

Davey takes the seat next to Jack. “Why’d you leave?” He asks, tilting his head. God , Jack thinks, he looks like a sad puppy.

“Just needed to talk to Kath about something,” Jack answers. 

“Oh,” Davey giggles. The two are silent for a few moments. Then, “I see you on the subway.”

Jack chokes on the water he was sipping. He literally has to cough it out and now has a water stain on his shirt. His face turns red. “What?”

Davey, too drunk to care, doesn’t even notice. “Every morning, on the subway,” He’s slurring his words. “You’re there when I get on and off.” He taps Jack’s nose. “You’re my Cute Subway Guy.”

And Jack–well, Jack doesn’t really know what to do. He feels like screaming and jumping and throwing up. He knows his face is probably close to the same color as the apples sitting on the counter. He wants to kiss Davey, really badly, but he’s so drunk that Jack would practically be taking advantage of him. 

Jack also kind of wants the floor to swallow him up. He tries to laugh it off. “Why don’t you switch to water for a while?”

Davey frowns. “That’s so boring,” he whines.

Jack chuckles. Just act normal, he tells himself. “You’ll thank yourself tomorrow.” He slips the beer out of Davey’s hand. “Here,” he offers, handing over his glass of water.

“Thanks, Jack. You’re really nice.” Davey downs half the glass in one sip.

Jack thinks he’s in the clear, that maybe they’ll just sit in silence for a few minutes, but drunk Davey won’t let that happen. 

“Hey,” Davey starts, “How come you get to call me Davey but I don’t get to call you a nickname?”

Jack smiles and shrugs. “I give nicknames to all of my friends,” he does not miss the way Davey’s smile falters when Jack refers to him as a friend, “It’s sort of what I do.”

“Well, what if I wanted to give you a nickname?” Davey asks. He’s grinning like this is the most genius idea anyone has ever had.

“Go for it,” Jack laughs. 

Davey stares at the counter for a while and Jack thinks he may have forgotten the conversation. Then, out of nowhere, he says, “Jackie.”

Jack wasn’t quite sure what he was anticipating from the mind of drunk Davey, but it sure as hell wasn’t ‘Jackie’. It’s not that no one calls him that–his adopted mother does and his friends do on rare occasions–it’s just that he wasn’t expecting that from Davey.

When Jack doesn’t answer, Davey frowns. “Do you not like it?”

Jack wants to kick every person who has ever made Davey look that sad. “No,” he says. “I love it. It’s perfect.” 

“Okay, Jackie it is then,” Davey grins. 

Davey sips on the water, much to Jack’s approval. They sit in silence, and Jack doesn’t mind it. Davey finishes the glass relatively fast, so Jack gently grabs it and starts to fill it up again. 

“Thanks Jackie,” Davey beams. Jack thinks he may need to pour this water on his face as an attempt to cool the crazy heat spreading on his cheeks.

“No problem, Davey.” Jack sets the glass down in front of him. 

“I want you to tattoo me again,” Davey says. 

“I’ll gladly tattoo you again,” Jack replies. “You can just call me or the shop and we’ll get it set up. Whenever and whatever you want as long as I’m able to.”

That makes Davey smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but pauses. Jack can practically see the cogs turning. Then, his smile falters. “Will Spot be mad?”

Jack’s a little confused until, oh yeah, he remembers that Davey only came to Jack because of Spot calling out sick. Jack shakes his head. “No, he won’t be mad. Maybe at me, for stealing you, but not at you.”

“I don’t want him to be mad at you.” Davey is literally frowning. Like a sad little animal. It’s fucking adorable. 

“I’ll talk him out of it, I promise,” Jack assures. 

There’s some yelling that comes from the living room and they both look over. Race is shotgunning something–a white claw, probably, because he’s a basic bitch at heart–and the rest of the boys are cheering him on. 

Davey’s eyes light up and he suddenly looks very interested. “Bye, Jack!” He gets off the stool and stumbles a little. “I’m gonna go drink more.”

Jack rolls his eyes and laughs. There are enough sober people here to make sure no one does anything too stupid, so he knows Davey will be fine. Still, his heart clenches when Davey walks away. “Bye, Davey. Be safe!”

Jack watches him find a spot on the floor next to his friends. He fits right in with them and it makes Jack want to bang his head on the counter. He doesn’t, though. He rests his head on his palm and watches the chaos from a safe distance. He watches Davey talk and drink and laugh and Jack doesn’t think he has ever wanted to kiss anyone more. 

God, Jack thinks, I am down so horrendously bad.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Jack wakes up and groans. He’s not hungover, thanks to him being smart enough to not get wasted, but he’s been hearing the toilet flush every couple of minutes which means that Race definitely is. Because he’s a good roommate and a nice friend, he goes into the kitchen and gets Race a glass of water. 

He knocks on the bathroom door, careful to not be too loud. “Racer? Can I come in?” He waits a few seconds and doesn’t hear any protests, so he opens the door. 

Race is laying completely spread out on the bathroom floor. He doesn’t look great. His shirt is crumpled up in the corner and he is covered in sweat. 

“Yikes,” Jack says. He sits down on the floor and holds out the glass of water. 

Race sits up, wincing as he does so, and takes the glass from Jack’s hand. He drinks half of it in one sip. “God,” he says, rubbing his head, “I really can’t drink like I think I can.”

Jack laughs. “We’re not in college anymore.”

Race groans and downs the rest of the water. “Thanks,” he says. He holds the glass out. “Can you get me–”

“Two ibuprofen and more water,” Jack cuts him off. “Yup. Be right back.” He grabs the glass out of Race’s hand.

Jack walks into the kitchen. He refills the glass, grabs two ibuprofen, and walks back into the bathroom. He gives the glass to Race in one hand and the ibuprofen in the other. “You gonna be okay?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe.

Race pops the pills and takes a big sip of the water. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m gonna sit and wallow for a little while longer and then take a shower.”

Jack chuckles. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, man,” Race says.

Jack nods, “Anytime.” He shuts the bathroom door and leaves Race to wallow. 

He goes through the rest of his regular morning routine. He makes coffee, he microwaves a frozen breakfast sandwich, and he doom scrolls on his phone. It’s not the best habit, but at least he’s eating breakfast.

He thinks about last night. He thinks about Davey and how adorable he was drunk. He thinks about when Race told him to stalk Davey, and how glad he is he didn’t do that. Can you imagine trying to explain that when he walked into the tattoo shop?

Although… Jack thinks. Stalking his Instagram is a normal thing to do, right? People do that all the time. It’s not even stalking. It’s just… taking a look.

He opens Instagram, taps the search bar, and types in ‘David Jacobs’. Sure enough, he’s the first profile that pops up. His username is djacobs99 , but his display name is David Jacobs . His profile picture is a candid of him. It looks like he’s at the beach or something, but it’s hard to tell. His bio reads: He/Him. Queer. Teacher. NYC.

Okay, so far this is all looking very… Davey. A little millennial, for sure, but it fits Davey’s vibe.

Jack lets his eyes roam over the posts. He clicks on the most recent one. It’s a selfie of Davey in his classroom. It’s a little old, it’s from January, but the caption says: New year, same classroom. The classroom is pretty average size. On the walls, there are various motivational posters and a pride flag.

Jack thinks it’s very cute. High school is hard for a lot of students. There’s so much happening in personal lives, let alone school lives. He knows firsthand how a good, safe, nice teacher can change the experience entirely. 

The next post is from December. It’s a picture of a fully lit menorah in a window. It’s too dark to see out of it, but Jack guesses it’s his apartment. The caption is: Happy Hanukkah!

Right, Jack remembers. Davey is Jewish. He remembers the other day when Davey got his tattoo. It’s literally the Star of David. He talked about being raised Jewish. (Jack feels a little stupid that he forgot.)

The posts go on for a while, the oldest one dating back when he was in high school. He’s standing in what seems to be a marching band uniform, holding a clarinet. He’s surrounded by other people wearing the same uniform and holding various instruments. He recognizes one of them as Sarah. The caption reads: Senior recognition! Marching Marina’s 4ever!

It makes Jack smile. Davey looks so young . He also looks happy. Jack was never involved in any clubs or sports in school. His life was hectic enough. He wishes he did, though. Davey looks so in place and Jack distantly wishes he would’ve had that.

With the realization that he’s reached the end of Davey’s Instagram feed, he closes the profile and goes back to his home page. As he’s watching some Instagram stories, his phone buzzes with a text.

Unknown Number: Hey, Jack. I just wanted to apologize for last night. I don’t remember any of it. I was pretty wasted, but Sarah always says I get a little too friendly when drunk. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

Jack frowns. Davey did nothing wrong. Nothing even in the slightest. At least he has Davey’s number now. No, he says to himself, focus on the task at hand .

jack: davey!! no worries at all man you were just having a good time haha

‘You’re my Cute Subway Guy’ has been playing on a loop in Jack’s brain for the past twelve hours. Okay, yeah, Davey was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying. But that has to have been something he has thought before, right? No way drunk Davey thought that up all by himself. Drunk words are sober thoughts. 

davey: Alright, if you say so. 

Jack waits for another text, but it never comes. 

He’s not crazy though, right? Davey has to have some sort of feelings for him. There’s no way he doesn’t. He groans and tosses his phone on the counter. 

He needs to make a move. He has Davey’s number. He could literally just text him would you like to get lunch? But that is absolutely terrifying. What if Davey was just drunk and spewing some shit? All of Jack’s friends know about Davey being Pretty Subway Boy, so maybe Davey just heard that and his drunk brain scrambled it a little. 

Jack knows the ball is in his court, but realistically, there is no ball or court. There’s just Jack and Davey. Jack, who has been pining for this guy for months. Davey, who flirted with Jack while he was drunk. Jack, who needs to take this guy on a date before he goes insane. Davey, who is seemingly oblivious. 

Jack thinks he may just lose it. 

———

David is losing his mind. 

He’s trying to nurse his hangover. He has no clue why he got as drunk as he did last night. He was just so nervous to be around Jack and thought a little drinking would help. He did more than a little drinking, though. 

He’s glad Katherine is smart enough to have had it on a Friday night so everyone could sleep in the next day. She decided he was too drunk to go home so she let him crash on her couch. Sarah stayed the night too, but she was already planning on that. 

Now the three are sitting in Katherine’s kitchen. David is holding a cup of coffee between his hands and gripping it like it’s his lifeline. Katherine and Sarah were over his shoulder when he texted Jack. They told him he was too dry, but he was too nervous to say anything more. 

“He likes you, y’know,” Sarah says from her spot on Katherine’s lap. “He was looking at you like you hung the moon.”

David rolls his eyes. “He was just being nice because I was drunk. He was watching me to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid because you weren’t.”

“Oh, we were watching,” Katherine says. “We saw the entirety of your interaction. It was just more fun to stand back and watch.”

David feels his cheeks turn a little pink. He may regret asking, but he does anyway. “What exactly did I say?”

“Hm, let’s see, where should we start?” Sarah teases. “You told him you want him to tattoo you again.”

Okay, not too bad. He definitely wouldn’t have said it so abruptly if he was sober, but he has been thinking about it. 

“You asked him why he gets to call you a nickname and you don’t get to call him one, so you decided to call him Jackie,” Katherine explains. 

David winces. That one’s a little worse. He would’ve never said that sober. Still, it’s not horrible. That one can definitely be seen as ‘being too friendly’. The girls go silent, so he thinks that’s it. It could’ve been way worse , he thinks. 

“Oh! We forgot something,” Sarah smirks. “You called him your Cute Subway Guy.”

David all but chokes on his coffee. “What?!”

“Jack had a reaction similar to that, actually.” Katherine laughs.

“I confessed the fact that I have a crush on him and you guys didn’t jump in to assist?” David feels his cheeks getting warm. 

“Calm down,” Sarah says. “You didn’t actually ‘confess’ anything. You just called him cute,” she shrugs. 

David sets his cup down and puts his head in his hands. “This is why I don’t get drunk,” he groans. 

Katherine pats his head. “Jack literally wants to take you on a date.”

“I can’t ask him out!”

“Why?” Katherine and Sarah say in unison. 

“Because!” David lifts his head. “I just… I can’t! I barely know him and he’s a really good guy and I don’t want to risk losing the friendship we’re building.”

“You’re so boring,” Sarah drags out the word. “You like him. He likes you. I feel like this is the perfect formula for dating.”

David looks down at his cup. He hasn’t had much luck with boyfriends in the past. He’s known that he’s gay since middle school, so that’s never been a problem. The problem is that no boyfriend wants to be with him for longer than a couple of months. 

“You at least have to see him again. Go back to his tattoo shop!” Sarah says. 

“What about Spot?” David asks. “I only went to Jack because Spot was sick. I would feel bad. It feels like cheating.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Also, I don’t even know what I want to get. My Star of David tattoo is still healing.”

“Don’t worry about Spot,” Katherine shrugs. “I’ve known him for years. He won’t take it personally. He’ll probably mess with you a little, but he won’t care. Plus, anyone in their right mind can see how Jack looks at you, so he’ll just be taking one for the team.”

David blushes. He’s never been able to catch Jack looking at him besides last night, but he doesn’t remember that. He wishes more than anything that he did. 

“Oh!” Sarah pipes up. “Why don’t you get the Icarus one you’ve been talking about?”

David absolutely loves the tale of Icarus. It’s a story he found in high school and, honestly, has not stopped thinking about since. In his freshman English class, they had a very small Greek mythology unit. They talked about some of the popular tales–Orpheus and Eurydice, Pandora’s box, and the Trojan War. The class didn’t even talk about Icarus. He found the tale when doing his own research when the unit was over. He hadn’t gotten enough and wanted to learn more. He immediately felt called to the tale when he first read it. He rereads it a lot now and, honestly, never stops thinking about it. It reminds him to stay humble but still remain ambitious. He’s spent a long time trying to find the balance between those two in an attempt to not fly too close to the sun.

“Maybe,” David sighs. “Tattoos are a big decision, and I don’t even have an exact design in mind, and–”

“David.” Sarah cuts him off. “You’ve been talking about getting this tattoo since we were teenagers. You always said you were ‘waiting for the right artist’. I think you’ve found him.”

Sarah picks up his phone, unlocks it (how she knows the password, David doesn’t know), goes into his contacts, and clicks on Jack’s. She hands the phone back to him. “Call.”

“I don’t know, Sarah, I–”

Katherine snatches David’s phone, presses the call button, and places the phone in his hand. “God, you pining gays drive me crazy,” she teases. 

“Katherine!” David exclaims. He looks down at the phone ringing and feels his heart speed up. 

Katherine just shrugs and smiles. 

“Hello?” It takes David a moment to realize that Jack's voice is coming out of his phone. 

David covers the speakers with his hand. “I hate you,” he whispers. The girls don’t care, they just laugh at him. 

“Jack! Hi!” David moves into the living room to get a little more privacy. 

“How are you? How’s the hangover?” Jack laughs. David thinks it’s one of the most adorable things he’s ever heard. 

“It’s a little rough, I won’t lie,” David chuckles. 

“Race has been, ah, well acquainted with the bathroom floor this morning,” Jack says. 

David winces. “Yikes. Been there, done that. Not a great experience.”

“Yeah,” Jack sighs. “I’ve been assigned the role of ‘Hangover Helper’ this morning.”

“Sounds like fun,” David jokes. 

“It is. I’m having the time of my life. I’ve never refilled a glass of water more.”

They laugh. It feels nice. David hates how gushy it makes him feel. 

“So, what’s up? Why’d you call?” Jack asks. He quickly adds, “Not that I don’t love hearing from you, obviously, I just–” He sighs. “You know what I mean.”

David laughs. “Yeah, I do.” He’s thankful Jack can’t see how hard he’s blushing. “Um, I was just wondering if you had any open appointments anytime soon? Maybe sometime next week?”

“Oh! Yeah, just let me get my computer, hang on.” David hears some rustling. “Sorry, I go into work late on Saturday’s. Pros of being self employed.”

“No, don’t apologize at all. Sorry for calling you on your morning off.”

“Don’t even worry about it! I would always take a call from you.”

God, David thinks, Jack Kelly is an evil, evil man. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“Let’s see… I’m guessing you can only do afternoons, Mr. Jacobs?”

David thinks that Jack is the sweetest ever for remembering that he’s a teacher. And yeah, he knows that’s the bare minimum, but still. It’s very endearing. 

“Yeah,” David replies. 

“I can do Friday afternoon if that works for you?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah, that’s perfect! Thank you!” David replies.

“Anytime, Davey.” David hears typing. He assumes Jack is writing it down. “Do you have any ideas for a design?”

“Loosely,” David chuckles. “I’m a Greek mythology nerd and have loved the tale of Icarus for years now, so I was thinking something based on that.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Jack seems excited. It makes David smile. “I fucking love Greek mythology. The Percy Jackson books were my childhood, and once I was old enough to read the actual tales, I did. Icarus is one of my favorites.”

“Me too!” David knows he’s smiling like an idiot now. “Getting The Lightning Thief from the library for the first time is a core memory. I think I legit cried at the last couple of chapters of The Last Olympian.”

“I think I did too. Although, I was still in my ‘tough boys don’t cry’ era, so I was too stubborn to actually admit it.” Jack sighs, “I haven’t had as much time in my adult life to read. I feel like I haven’t finished a book in forever.”

David laughs. “I get that. I feel like the only books I read are the ones I use at the school I teach. If you do feel the urge to read again though, The Song of Achilles lives up to the hype.”

“Good to know. It’s been on my mental list for a while now, I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

Jack is silent for a few seconds, and David opens his mouth to mention another book, but Jack speaks first. 

“Anyways, back to the tattoo.” (David almost forgot that’s what started this conversation.) “Do you have any ideas of what you want it to look like?”

“Um, kind of?” David doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but it does. “Well, I want it on my shoulder, so I feel like it’d be pretty big. I’ve seen a couple people with them before and they’re always really cool. I’m picturing an image of Icarus falling while reaching his hand up with the wings breaking around him. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I see your vision,” Jack chuckles at himself. “I can sketch a couple different options over the next week and we can have a consultation. That sound okay?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you so much, Jack.”

“Of course, Davey.”

David feels his heart start beating a little faster. 

“Well, I’ll let you go.” Jack says. David doesn’t want that, but he won’t argue. “I think Race needs more water,” he laughs. 

“Good luck,” David replies. “Bye, Jack, I’ll see you next week.”

“Bye, Davey.” David thinks Jack hung up until he hears: “Or on the subway until then.”

David’s eyes go wide. He pulls his phone away from his ear and hangs up before Jack can say any more. 

Okay. So. Jack definitely remembers the Cute Subway Guy thing. David knows it’s possible that Jack recognizes him, too. But what are the chances of that? No one notices David Jacobs. 

“So,” Sarah walks into the living room and plops herself on the couch. “How’d it go?”

David rolls his eyes and sits next to her. “I have an appointment next Friday.”

Katherine comes into the living room holding David’s cup of coffee and hands it to him. She practically squeals when she hears of David’s plans. “That’s so great! That’s an entire week to work up the courage to ask him out!”

“What? No! I’m not asking him out. I thought we’ve been over this.”

“And I thought we’ve been over that he likes you back so there’s no possible way this can go poorly!” Sarah says. 

David sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I do really like his tattoos and plan on keeping going back to him. What if he gets weirded out or something?”

“He won’t,” Katherine answers. “Spot had a little crush on Jack, in college, and Jack was never weird about it.”   

David runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

David will most likely not think about it and ignore it until he’s walking into Jack’s tattoo shop in a week. 

Chapter Text

Over the course of the next week, Jack does not stop thinking about Davey. 

He doesn’t stop thinking about his smile or his eyes or his hair or how he’s taller than Jack or how he was drunk flirting. He tries not to obsess over it, he really does, but it’s hard not to. He knows it doesn’t mean much–when he was in college, he had a bad habit of getting drunk and flirting with anyone who would give him any attention. 

He tries to talk to Race about it, but he’s been so busy with rehearsals lately. He teaches dance classes to elementary age students as well as being a performer himself. His rehearsals take most of his morning and his classes take most of his afternoon and evening. Dance has been one of the only things Race has truly loved and depended on in his life, so Jack is happy he’s happy. It sucks not having another body in his apartment a lot, sure, but being sad about it would just be so selfish, Jack thinks.

He could call Crutchie or Spot, but they’re so busy with their own relationship drama that Jack doesn’t want to interrupt. He could talk to Katherine, but Sarah would probably be there or at least hear about it, and that makes Jack feel a little weird. Sarah is great, he thinks they get along, it’s just a little weird to talk about his raging crush with said crush’s sister. He could text Albert, but it would inevitably get back to Race. It’s not that Jack doesn’t want Race to know, but if Jack doesn’t tell him directly, Race’s feelings might be hurt, and Jack doesn’t want that.

So, in short: Jack can’t really talk to any of his friends. If he was normal and didn’t overthink everything, maybe he would be able to. However, Jack Kelly hasn’t and never will be normal. So. 

He’s currently in his kitchen boiling some water to make ramen. Race is staying at Albert’s tonight which means he has the place to himself. It also means that he has to cook for himself.

He’s leaning against the counter and watching TV. It’s Wednesday night which means Survivor is on. He doesn’t really follow TV, but he always stays caught up on Survivor. It’s not the best show to have ever existed, but damn it’s entertaining. He loves the stupid drama and competitiveness of it. 

The three tribes are about to compete for immunity when his phone starts ringing. He watches the TV for a second longer and then looks down at his phone. He smiles at the name. mom <3.

Medda Larkin. The woman who single handedly changed Jack’s life.

Jack had a very rough childhood. His father left when he was five and his mother overdosed when he was eight. He didn’t have any extended family to take him in, so he was thrown into the foster care system.

Naturally, Jack became very angry at the world. He didn’t understand why it had first taken his father and then his mother. He spent the first year in the system begging to get back to his mom. He was seen as a ‘tough case’. He didn’t like to cooperate or be kind. He liked to hit and yell. Liked isn’t the right word. It’s the only thing that felt right to him. He wanted to be in charge of every situation, and he was smart enough to know that since he was young, no one would listen. He tried to act grown up because he thought it would make everything easier.

His first foster home lasted about three months. Looking back, he knows they were a nice couple, but at the time, he wanted nothing to do with them. He would scream and spit and throw tantrums and never do what was asked of him. His teachers could barely handle his behavior in class. The foster parents tried, they really did, but they just couldn’t handle him.

And this is how it went for years. Jack would get put in a different home, and he would be noncompliant. It less became about wanting to go back to his mom and more about how he didn’t give a fuck about what happened to him.

As he got older, it became harder and harder to find people to foster him. Sure, people will take in an eight year old boy who just lost his mom, but people will not take in a thirteen year old teenager who has a record of cursing and getting in fights and stealing from drugstores.

Race was here for all of this. They met in kindergarten and had been friends ever since–being put in foster care was not a reason enough for Race to stop being friends with him. Jack was lucky enough to have always stayed in the school district, so even if he was constantly grounded or had insane helicopter foster placements, he had his best friend. Race tried to help Jack as best he could, but he had no clue what he was doing. Jack got so angry so fast and Race didn’t know how to stop it. He was always there to listen to Jack’s rants and give him a hug, but there was not much else he could do. He would try to talk Jack off the ledge when it came to picking a fight or stealing, but it didn’t always work. He never got angry with Jack. He would be there to clean his cuts and help pay back whatever it was he stole. 

Jack was super thankful for Race but never actually said so. He was under the impression that he had to be super tough, and doing things like thanking people or being polite in any way was not very tough.

Jack was in and out of different foster placements for six years. His shortest was a week and his longest was a year. He never had any that were too bad. Although, the couple he stayed with for a year liked using him as their personal punching bag. They were really good at hiding it. They were super sweet when their house was inspected and told Jack to do the same or he would be punished. Race slowly started noticing the bruises and raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask. Jack didn’t think it was too bad. This was the longest he had ever been in a placement. And yeah, they hit him and didn’t feed him sometimes, but at least he had a place to sleep.

On the one year anniversary of Jack living there, they told him they were going to adopt him. Since he was only thirteen, there was no way he could say no. At school the next day, Jack all but cried in front of Race while he explained the whole situation. Together, they went to their art teacher (the teacher that Jack trusted the most), and told her everything. As a mandated reporter, she was required to call CPS and Jack got out of that home.

After that, he felt even more deflated. He never again got hit the way he did, and that was good enough for him. Being abused became such a norm during that year that every home after seemed so much better.  He got very used to the feeling of packing up his things with a minute's notice and not knowing where he was going. Anything to not get hit again, he used to think.

When he was fourteen, he got sent to another home. He didn’t think much of it. Her name was Medda and she lived right outside Manhattan where she owned a theater. Jack didn’t listen to much that she had to say simply because he didn’t care. This was just another foster home. Four more years until he was free.

Medda was different, though. She was kind, and gentle, and didn’t get upset with Jack when he was angry or getting in fights. She would sit down with him and try to understand his feelings. She would try to talk him through them and offer coping strategies, but she never forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do. 

Jack waited for her to crack. He waited for the day when he came home with a bruise too big or too many F’s on his report card. He waited for her to yell at him and punish him. 

It never came though. She just kept icing his bruises and helping with homework where she could. Jack didn’t understand. It made him angry. Around the six month mark of living with Meddda, he was constantly on edge. He knew her break would have to come soon.

Jack ended up being the one to crack.

They were sitting at the table having dinner. This had become normal for them. Jack loved Medda’s cooking and didn’t mind sitting at the table to eat. She was in the middle of telling a story from work when he cut her off.

“Why are you so nice?” Jack snapped. She just stared at him. Okay, he thought, I definitely could’ve worded that better. “Why haven’t you ever yelled at me or hit me like every other foster parent does? And–when is it gonna start? Because, damn, I’m starting to get really comfortable here and it’s gonna crush me to leave so you may as well get it over with now. Unless this is all a part of your plan or something.”

Medda just stared at him. She didn’t know what to say. 

Jack stood up and started pacing. “It’s really not fair, y’know. I’m–I’m a good kid. I’m just really fucked up. I don’t want to be this way. I really don’t. But I don’t know any other way. This is just how I am. These are just the cards I’ve been dealt and all I can do is sit here and fucking deal with it. And you’re making it really hard. I feel so guilty around you. You smile and talk to me and make me dinner and–fuck! Just hit me already so we can get this over with!”

He’d never had an outburst in front of her like this. He hadn’t thrown a temper tantrum in years, and that’s essentially what this was. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt the tears drip off his chin and onto his chest.

Medda slowly stood up. She looked like she was trying to tame a rabid animal. Jack absolutely hated it. 

“Jack,” Medda said his name so gently. Like she was scared she would break him. “You are a good kid. You always have been and always will be. Like you said, it’s just how you are.” She took a deep breath. A moment to put her thoughts together, Jack had guessed. “You have been dealt a very difficult hand. But you are just a child. I know you don’t like to remember that, but you’re a teenager. No one should have to deal with even a portion of what you’ve had to–especially at such a young age.”

Medda took a few cautious steps towards Jack, and he didn't move. He stood stock still. 

“Every single person on this earth deserves someone that loves them and cares for them. Especially those who are not old enough to do so for themself. I want to look after you. Call it instinct, call it empathy, call it whatever you want, but I care about you so much. More than you could ever comprehend. I know it’s hard to think about. But you deserve all of the love in the world. And I am here to provide that for you. Whether you want it or not, I am right here.” 

Medda stepped closer and Jack had to fight the urge to flinch.

“If you never want to have a closer relationship than what we have right now, that’s okay. If you stay with me until you’re eighteen and then move out and never talk to me again, that’s alright. I’m here for you. You’re calling the shots here, okay?” 

Medda pulled a tissue from the table and held it out. Jack cautiously took it and wiped his eyes. 

“I will never, ever hurt you. I know you don’t trust me right now, and that’s okay. But just know that I mean it, alright?” 

And yeah, it wasn’t a perfect speech, because Medda wasn’t perfect and Jack was far from it. But for the first time in a really long time, he really wanted to trust someone.

They stood in silence for what felt like hours before Jack spoke up.

“I want to try,” He said. “I–I can’t trust you right now. But I really want to try.” He took a shaky breath. “It’ll be hard and I’ll push you away. And I probably won’t stop yelling or getting in fights. At least not for a while. And I’m still going to be a little asshole. I’m going to need a lot of fixing, but I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

And from there, the rest is sort of history.

Jack worked a lot on himself over the next couple of months. He worked with Medda on gaining trust and she taught him some manners. He worked with a therapist to understand his trauma and learn coping skills. He worked with Race to get better grades in school and not get into fights as often. He worked and worked and worked.

He had always heard the phrase ‘progress isn’t linear’ but hadn’t truly believed it until those months. It was so easy for him to curse at Medda or stop turning in homework. Somedays, he felt like giving up and begging Medda to bring him back to the foster home. He didn’t, though, and he’s truly never been more grateful for a decision.

It took a long time for Jack to get where he wanted. The things he had lived through were hard to deal with and didn’t just magically fix themselves. It was nearly two years before Jack consistently started feeling happy and proud of himself. Sure, he had bad days from time to time, but they started to become few and far between.

On his sixteenth birthday, Medda asked to adopt him. He had truly never felt happier. This was the final piece. He was a good student with good grades and a hard worker and a good artist and now he was going to be a good son.

He said yes. She has been his mom ever since. And he could never thank her enough for all that she’s done.

Jack snaps out of his mini flashback and back into reality when he realizes his phone is still ringing. He quickly answers and holds it up to his ear.

“Hi Mom.” Jack moves to sit on his counter.

“How are you doing, Sweetheart?”

Jack smiles. God, he loves his Mom. “I’ve been good, yeah. Work is busy but not overwhelmingly so.”

“Well that’s always good to hear. I’m just so proud of you and your friends. Starting a business isn’t easy.”

Jack chuckles and rolls his eyes a little. She will never stop praising him and he still gets a little flustered at it. “Thank you,” he says. “Speaking of, how’s business at the theater?”

“A little overwhelming,” Medda confesses. “A lot of shows want to use our space. It’s a good problem to have. Just a difficult choice to make. I think we have it narrowed down, though.”

“Glad to hear it. Let me know when it starts running. I’ll see if I can get a group of buddies together to come see it.”

“Oh, I’d just love that!” Jack can practically hear her smiling through the phone. “I adore your friends.”

“Sometimes more than me,” Jack jokes.

“Maybe,” Medda teases. “That’s sort of the reason I’m calling, though. Once we accept this show, they’re going to need some sets painted. A backdrop or two, a few wood structures, stuff like that. I wanted to offer you the job.”

Jack smiles. He had always loved art–even before he started living with Medda–but she really encouraged his art and always had him help with painting sets. He kept it up in college, because he was close and any college kid will take the opportunity for easy money, but hasn’t done it much in his adult life. Sure, a few things here and there, but he keeps pretty busy.

“I’d love to help,” Jack answers. “Send me a few dates and I’ll make it work.”

“Wonderful! I’ll get you the information once I get it.”

The two talk for a while. It’s nice to catch up. Jack doesn’t talk to her as much as he would like to. She never makes him feel guilty for it, though, and he is very thankful for that.

Jack switches his phone to speaker and puts it on the counter once his water starts boiling. 

“So, I was talking to Katherine the other day,” Medda starts.

Uh oh. There’s a great chance this conversation will end with him very embarrassed.

“Yeah? What about?” Jack asks. He puts the ramen in the water and sets a timer.

“Well, first it was about work. She was assigned to write an article about my theater. What are the odds of that?”

“This city really isn’t as big as people think it is.” 

“You are correct, Dear,” Medda laughs. “Well then we got to talking about life. She told me about her girlfriend, Sarah.” 

Oh god. Jack knows what’s coming.

“She told me about her brother, Davey?” Jack can practically hear her grin through the phone. “Is there anything I should be aware of?”

Jack laughs. He stirs his ramen, being careful to not burn it. “No, Mama, I would tell you if there was anything happening. I’ve tattooed him once and we’re becoming friends.” 

“Alright, if that’s what you say.”

The timer for Jack’s ramen goes off and he fumbles with it a little to turn it off.

“Well, I should let you go. Go eat your dinner, Darling. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

Jack turns the stove off and grabs his phone. “Yup! I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Jack hangs up and tosses his phone onto the counter. He quickly prepares his ramen, grabs a beer, and sits on the couch to eat his dinner. He thinks for a split second about how sad this image is. A twenty-seven year old man eating ramen and drinking beer alone on his couch watching Survivor. He doesn’t really care too much, though. The Yanu tribe is getting sent to tribal council again and he’s practically on the edge of his seat. 

He can’t focus for too long without getting sidetracked by his thoughts. He thinks about his conversation with Medda which leads to thinking about Davey. That boy is driving him crazy and he’s going to have to do something about it soon if he doesn’t want to go insane.

Jack will see him in two days. He can last that long. He knows he can. That doesn’t mean he necessarily wants to, but he’ll live.

He tries not to think too hard about Davey’s eyes or his smile or how flirty he was when he was drunk or how he’s going to have to be shirtless again on Friday. No. He tries to push the thoughts away, tries to focus on Jeff Probst on his TV, but he can’t. 

The Davey Jacobs induced anxiety sits heavy in his chest for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Friday comes before Jack knows it. He wakes up and goes through the steps of his regular morning routine. He messes with his hair and tries to get it to do what he wants, but gives up pretty quickly. He throws on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that he cut the sleeves off of. It’s officially spring in the city and it’s finally getting warm. It may only be sixty-seven degrees, but he’ll treat it like it’s summer simply because he wants to. He’s a summer bitch one hundred percent. He wrestles with his Converse (seriously, why are they so hard to get on?) and walks out of his room.

He pours a cup of coffee in his travel mug and makes a bagel in thirty seconds flat. He grabs his backpack and double checks he has everything he needs. He puts the bagel in, then zips it up and slings it over his shoulder. He has his coffee in one hand, phone and keys in the other. He walks out his door with a pep in his step and heads towards the subway station.

It’s not that he needed to rush this morning. No, he hardly ever has to rush. Crutchie, Spot, and Albert normally open the shop. Jack mostly doesn’t take morning appointments because he is just not a morning person and he claims he does better art in the afternoons. The only appointment he has scheduled for today is Davey in the afternoon.

Which, funnily enough, is the exact reason Jack’s rushing.

He got into the habit of waking up fairly early a couple months ago. For a while, back when the shop first opened, he had the same sleeping routine he did in highschool. Which was not good. He would wake up around noon, get to the shop at one, close around ten, then go home and stay awake until three or four in the morning. He constantly felt like shit and wondered why.

Once he realized how fucked up his sleep schedule was (which also impacted how often he ate and how much time he spent holed up in his room), he decided to do something about it. It was a rough transition but he managed. 

Now, he wakes up at about seven (realistically seven-thirty), catches the subway at eight, and gets to work at nine. It’s early, especially for a tattoo shop, but it’s the hours Crutchie suggested all those years ago when they first opened. Jack doesn’t mind it because he feels good. Yeah, there are times when he oversleeps or feels like death in the morning, but it’s better than the constant borderline depressive episode he was in.

Once he started his new and improved morning routine, he started seeing Davey on the subway. 

So, ever since, Jack has kept to his routine pretty well. He acts as if he has to catch the eight AM subway towards Brooklyn. 

This morning, he makes it to the station with two minutes to spare. Which is pretty good, all things considered. He scrolls on his phone as a way to pass the time before the subway comes. When it does, he makes his way on and finds a seat.

Then he waits. Because he knows that Davey will get on at the next stop. It's a little embarrassing, but it makes Jack’s day.

But he’s right, because at the next stop, Davey Jacobs walks onto the subway. He catches Jack’s eye and smiles. He looks as if he’s about to move closer and say something, but a handful of people get in their way.

This is how it’s been for the past week. They see each other. They smile, say hi, exchange pleasantries. They’ve chatted a little, but nothing crazy. People always get in their way and before Jack knows it, Davey’s getting off at his stop.

Jack doesn’t necessarily mind this. He would love to talk to Davey, obviously, but he’s also still at the point where talking to him makes his heart race. He feels a bit like a teenage girl with an obsessive crush and he doesn’t enjoy it.

The same happens today. People stand between Jack and Davey for the entirety of the ride. When Davey gets off, he waves and Jack thinks he hears him say, “See you later!”

Later can certainly not come soon enough.

———

This morning at JAS Tattoo is slow. By two PM, between the three artists, there has only been one client. It was some girl who’s been going to Spot for a while now. It’s not that they expect a lot of walk-ins on a Friday morning, it’s just that they easily get bored.

They ate their respective lunches on the middle of the floor and called it a picnic. How these four boys are full grown adults that own a business, they’re not really sure. They’re all still children at heart.

Around three, Jack starts getting antsy. Davey should be coming in at four. Jack knows it’s pretty unreasonable to pace around the shop for an hour, but that’s just what he feels like doing.

When he’s making his third lap, Spot throws a piece of balled up paper at him. “You’re driving me crazy. Sit down.”

Jack sighs, walks over to his tattoo chair, and sits. He starts drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. 

He’s excited, sure, but he’s nervous. He knows the anticipation is the worst part. Once Davey gets here and is sitting in his chair, Jack can relax into the familiarity of his art. He can focus on permanently putting his sketch on skin. On the body of his crush. Who he will have to lean over to make sure he gets the shading done right. Who will be shirtless and smiling and talking to Jack.

“Jesus, Jack, just take a deep breath or something. I can feel your anxiety all the way over here,” Spot says. Albert snickers.

Jack runs a hand through his hair and shakes his hand in an attempt to shake off the nerves (something one of his old therapists taught him). “Is it really that obvious? Do you think Davey’s gonna be able to tell? God, maybe I should just cancel the appointment or something–”

“Pull yourself together, Kelly!” Albert teases. “First of all, this is a great chance to get to know Davey more. Second of all, you can ask him out, because we literally all know he likes you.” Spot and Crutchie nod. “Third of all, you’ve been working on the Icarus design for way too long for it to just go to waste.”

“Just scroll on your phone or something for the next hour,” Crutchie suggests. “I’ll let you play one of your playlists if it makes you stop driving Spot crazy.”

Jack smirks and locks eyes with Albert. Yeah, he thinks, They’re definitely fucking. Why else would he care so much?

He walks over to Crutchie’s computer and clicks on his Spotify profile. He scrolls around for a while until he finds a playlist he’s happy with. It’s titled “:)” and it’s just a collection of his favorite songs at the moment. $20 by boygenius starts playing.

“If a bad song comes on, I’m skipping it,” Crutchie warns.

Jack rolls his eyes and walks back over to his chair. “There is no such thing as a bad song on my playlist.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Jack scrolls on his phone for a couple minutes before remembering one of the things that’s now living in his backpack. He reaches in and pulls out a copy of The Song Of Achilles.

Listen. Jack is not just reading it for Davey. He may be down bad, but he is not whipped, okay? He is reading it because he has been meaning to get back into reading for a long time and it just so happens that one of his friends recommended it the other day.

He opens to where his bookmark is. (His ‘bookmark’ is a gum wrapper.) He’s not very far into it, only about eighty pages, but he’s enjoying it. The lyrical writing style is definitely one he’s had to get used to, but he can admit that it’s very pretty and it does in fact have a hold on him.

He settles into his chair a little more and starts reading. It’s nice. It does help relax him and it isn’t rotting his brain like his phone would be.

“Holy shit!” Spot exclaims. Jack looks up, a little alarmed. “Jack Kelly, is that a book?!”

Jack rolls his eyes and groans. “Shut up.”

“Is this so your English teacher boyfriend will like you more? Oh, is this some weird kink thing he has? I didn’t know he was into roleplay like that,” Spot smirks.

Jack hates the way his cheeks turn pink. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but you want him to be,” Albert pipes in. 

“Not the point,” Jack mumbles. “I used to love reading. I just haven’t had a lot of time to as I got older,” He explains. “And it’s a way better hobby than scrolling on TikTok for hours.”

“I just didn’t know you knew how to,” Spot teases.

Jack rolls his eyes and goes back to reading. 

“He’s trying to impress Davey,” Albert suggests. 

Jack doesn’t feed any more energy into his friends and they stop teasing him. It’s all in good fun between them, so he doesn’t mind. He’ll never say it, but he loves being teased by his friends. He realized that it shows they actually care about him. If anything, it’s a comfort to be teased.

Reading, Jack notices, makes the time really fly by. He gets so lost in the pages that he doesn’t really comprehend how time is moving around him. The jingle of the bell on the door is enough to make his head pop up, though. He quickly realizes that time did in fact pass.

Davey walks in and Jack has to suppress a smile. It’s a little pathetic but he doesn’t care.

“Hi Davey!” Crutchie greets him.

“Hello,” Davey smiles. “Four o’clock with Jack.”

Crutchie types on his computer. “Oh, I know.”

Jack all but springs out of his chair. He smiles as he approaches the front desk. “Hey, Davey.”

“Hi Jack.”

Jack has to hold back the urge to look Davey up and down. He’s clearly out of his work clothes–he’s wearing joggers and a t-shirt. He has a pair of beat up Vans on, and Jack can’t help but think about how they would perfectly fit the Converse and Vans gay trope.

“You can come on back,” Jack motions to his chair. He moves and Davey follows.

Davey sits and looks at the table next to him which currently houses a bunch of Jack’s random shit. “You’re reading The Song of Achilles?” 

Jack looks at Davey and finds he has a soft smile on his face. (Okay, so maybe this is part of the reason why Jack started reading it.) “Yeah!” He answers. “I’ve been meaning to read more, and you recommended it, so.”

Maybe it’s just the lighting, but Jack is pretty sure Davey’s cheeks turn pink.

Jack turns to grab his iPad and realizes it’s not where he normally keeps it. He frowns and starts to go on a mini hunt for it.

Spot walks over to Davey and greets him. “So, my tattoos weren’t good enough for you?” He’s obviously joking, but Jack watches as Davey starts to panic.

“No! I mean, of course they were! They’re beautiful, I really do love them! I just, um–”

“Calm down,” Spot laughs. “I’m just messing with you. Jack’s a really good artist. I have more than one of mine done by him.” He gestures to his arms. “My chair is always open if you ever want to come back, though.”

“Thanks.” Davey smiles politely at Spot.

“Found it!” Jack exclaims as he grabs his iPad. How it was underneath a pile of napkins, he’ll never be sure.

“Sorry about that,” Jack says as he moves back towards Davey. “Okay, anyways. So, I have a few sketches for the tattoo. You can let me know which you like best, or if you hate them all, I can change whatever you want.”

Jack places his iPad in Davey’s hands and lets him stare at the sketches.

“Holy shit, Jack,” Davey says. Jack is definitely more than a little nervous and at first. He’s not quite sure if that ‘holy shit’ is good or bad. But then he sees Davey’s smile and he lets himself exhale. “This one,” he points to the one in the middle, “is absolutely perfect. It’s what I’ve been picturing for literal years now.”

Jack smiles. “Wow, I’m flattered. I’m glad I could capture your vision.”

“You did,” Davey stares at the sketch. “It’s so perfect.” He looks up and locks eyes with Jack. “Thank you so much.”

Jack’s cheeks turn a light pink. “Anything for you, Davey.” 

He didn’t really mean to say that, and he does momentarily wish for the floor to swallow him whole, but then he sees Davey’s blush. It is one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. They keep their eyes locked on each other for a few moments.

“Um,” Jack starts, breaking their stare. “I’ll go print this and we can get started.”

Davey nods. “Sounds good.”

Jack steps away to print out the stencil. He messes with the size a little to make sure it’ll fit Davey’s shoulder. When he turns around to show Davey the stencil, he doesn’t expect to see him sitting shirtless.

“You really like taking your shirt off, huh?” Jack jokes. He doesn’t really realize he’s said it until the words are out of his mouth. He feels his heart start beating a little faster.

He doesn’t know what he expects but he does not expect Davey’s response.

“When I’m being tattooed by you, yeah.”

Who knew Davey Jacobs could be so smooth.

Jack fake coughs to hide his face in his elbow. Holy shit, he thinks, I have got to stop letting him turn me bright red.

Jack places the stencil on Davey’s shoulder. He double checks that’s where he wants it, and then he starts.

———

Davey sits just as well as he did last time. This one definitely takes longer because of all of the linework and shading. Jack was right when he was thinking earlier–he does have to lean over Davey at awkward angles to make sure he gets a line or shading right. There’s one point where he’s at a particularly odd angle and Davey rests a gentle hand on Jack’s waist to steady him. Jack’s knees legit almost buckle.

When he’s done, Jack lets Davey admire it in the mirror for a long time. Davey thanks him practically a million times and Jack tells him it’s absolutely no problem. At this point, Jack would ask Davey if he could tattoo him, even for free, just to get to be around him longer.

As Davey puts his shirt back on, his phone starts ringing. Jack glances over and sees that it’s a facetime call from a contact named ‘Les :-)’. Jack thinks he’s heard the name before but can’t place from where.

“Sorry,” Davey says “It’s my brother.”

Right, Jack thinks. “No worries.” 

Davey just stands there and stares at his phone for a few seconds.

“You can answer it, you know,” Jack teases with a smile. “I promise not to eavesdrop too much.”

 Davey smiles at Jack and answers his phone. 

“David, thank god!” Les says, exasperated. “I have an English assignment due at eleven fifty-nine tonight that I haven’t started and I need help. I have no clue what I’m doing.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “Les, it’s eight thirty. You better be a fast typer. Also, I don’t think you’ve written anything all year without my help.”

“Yeah because why would I when you literally have a degree in this?” Les says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the whole world. “I have to answer three essay questions about Gatsby. I swear I read it, I just didn’t know what Nick was yapping about half the time. I understood all the main events, at least I think I did, but I don’t really get it. This book is just a bunch of rich people drama. I don’t really see why it was written–to make poor people feel jealous of the life they were missing out on? And I totally do not get why the green light is a big deal.”

Jack has to hold back a laugh. He’s not really not supposed to be listening, but he is, and he really likes Les. He sees a lot of teenage Jack in him.

Davey sighs, but he doesn’t look the slightest bit upset. Even in the short amount of time Jack has known Davey, he gets the sense that Davey would do anything for his siblings. “What are the prompts?”

There’s some rustling for a few moments before Les starts to speak again. “One: Discuss Gatsby’s character as Nick perceives him throughout the novel. What makes Gatsby ‘great’? Two: What is Nick like as a narrator? Is he a reliable storyteller, or does his version of events seem suspect? How do his qualities as a character affect his narration? Three: What are some of The Great Gatsby’s most important symbols? What does the novel have to say about the role of symbols in life?” There’s some more rustling. “I swear, all I need is some bullet points to hit for each of these and I’ll write the rest by myself.” There’s a pause. “Wait, where are you?”

“I just got a tattoo done,” Davey explains.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” Les asks. “That is so much cooler and way more important than Gatsby!”

Davey laughs. “You didn’t really give me the chance to talk when I answered the phone.”

Les winces. “Yeah, sorry. Mom and Dad have been on my ass about my grades lately and I really need to do well on this assignment.”

Crutchie, oblivious to Davey’s call, says: “Davey, I’ll take you up here when you’re ready.”

“Oh my god, was that the tattoo artist that you–”

Davey is quick to cut him off. “Okay! I’ll call you when I get home. Start writing and I’ll look over it.” He hangs up and slips his phone into his pocket.

“Sorry,” Davey says to Jack with a sheepish smile. 

“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “That’s pretty much exactly what I sounded like in high school, too. I was always asking Race for help with homework.”

Jack chuckles at the memory and Davey does too. (Jack hates how warm it makes his chest feel.)

Davey goes to Crutchie’s desk to pay. Jack glances over at Albert and Spot who both shoot him  a thumbs up.

“Thanks again, Jack.” Davey smiles at him.

Jack wants to run up to him and grab his face and kiss him. He doesn’t do that, though. He just smiles and replies with, “You’re welcome again, Davey.”

Davey hesitates. He looks as if he wants to say or do something else, but he doesn’t. He just waves and walks out the doors.

Jack groans and, for a second, debates throwing a temper tantrum. That’s just how bad his thing for Davey is. 

He goes back to his station and starts cleaning up. He throws away his trash and wipes everything down. He can’t stop thinking about Davey. He thinks about how happy he looked when he first saw the tattoo and how he hesitated before he left and he wonders what that was about. 

As he sits down and attempts to focus on reading again, he daydreams. He thinks about what it would be like to date Davey. He thinks about what kissing him would feel like and what kinds of dates they would go on and if Davey likes holding hands with his romantic partners as much as Jack does. He wonders about Davey’s parents and if they would like Jack and if they would all get along well together. He thinks about Medda and how much she would absolutely love Davey.

Jack lightly shakes his head and tries to refocus on reading. It’s hard when Davey Jacobs keeps floating around in his head.

Eventually, though, he’s able to fall back into reading. He focuses on the words on the page and not the way Davey’s hands felt on his waist.

Some time later, the bell on the shop door rings. Jack briefly looks up. It’s a girl he recognizes. He realizes it’s one of Spot’s regulars as he gets up to greet her.

“This was right outside your door. I think someone dropped it.” The girl holds out a card to Crutchie.

“Oh, thanks.” Crutchie takes the card. He finishes getting her checked in and Jack looks back down to his book.

Spot walks the girl back to his station right as Crutchie calls Jack’s name. He sets his book down and goes up to Crutchie.

Jack leans his elbows against Crutchie’s desk. “What’s up?”

Crutchie holds up the card.

“Oh, yeah, I heard the girl say that. Just check the name and call whoever it is,” Jack shrugs. It’s not as if they’ve never had anyone drop anything before.

Crutchie hands the card to Jack.

Jack takes it and reads the name. His heart skips a beat. He doesn’t know whether to thank the universe or curse it.

The name David Jacobs is staring up at him.

“Give it to him,” Crutchie says. “And flirt with him while you do.”

“Real funny,” Jack rolls his eyes. “I’ll text him.”

Jack puts the card in his pocket and pulls out his phone. He stares at it for a little while before deciding on what to say.

jack: hi davey :) u dropped ur card outside the shop

jack: if u want i can swing by ur place and drop it off

Davey answers almost immediately.

davey: Thank you! I hadn’t even noticed it was missing. You don’t have to do that. I can just stop by and get it tomorrow morning. 

Jack could easily just agree. He could say sure, sounds great!! and call it a day. He also could try to convince Davey to let him drop it off, but he doesn’t want to seem weird or stalkerish. He has another idea, but it scares him more than he’d like to admit. But he and Davey are friends, right? So this won’t be a weird question.

jack: or if ur free we could meet for coffee tmr morning and i could give it to you then

Jack hates how nervous he gets just from texting. His hands are sweaty and he deadass has to take a deep breath.

This is just a friend hangout. Just a couple of guys being dudes. He goes out with his friends all the time. This is so totally normal.

He spends a solid minute staring at his phone and waiting for an answer. He’s about to give up and put it in his pocket when it buzzes again.

davey: That sounds great! There’s a cute coffee shop not far from my apartment if you want to go there.

Jack is smiling at his phone like crazy. He thinks that maybe he shouldn’t reply too fast in an attempt to not seem too eager, but fuck it, he is eager. 

jack: yes!! 

Davey sends the address. He was right, it does look very cute.

davey: Meet here at 10?

Jack messes around with different responses for a while. He doesn’t know what to say, and he wants to make sure he gets this right, so he types out a few different things. He does not mean to press send on the text.

jack: it’s a date :)

“Shit,” Jack curses. “Fuck, goddamit, shit.” He fumbles with his phone as if that will fix anything.

Crutchie looks at him and raises an eyebrow. Jack lets out a loud groan. He opens his mouth to speak, but his phone buzzes and he quickly closes it.

davey: It’s a date. :-)

Jack almost drops his phone. His jaw does drop and he stands there in shock for a few moments. His heartbeat quickens and he feels himself turning pink.

Oh my god, he thinks. I’m going on a date with David Jacobs. Davey. The guy I have been admiring for months. Pretty Subway Boy. On a date. Tomorrow. Holy shit. My life isn’t real.

“So, are you just gonna stand there with your mouth open like a fish or tell me what happened?” Crutchie asks with a smirk.

Jack snaps his mouth shut and turns to Crutchie with a huge grin that he can’t seem to wipe away.

“I have a date tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

The realization quickly hits Jack.

“Oh my god, I have a date tomorrow! What the fuck am I supposed to wear? How am I supposed to act? What if I flirt too much and he hates me? What if I flirt too little and he thinks I don’t like him? I haven’t been on a date in so long, I think I forgot how to. What if he doesn’t even see it as a date date? Some people just say ‘it’s a date’ when it’s not a date.” Jack runs his hand through his hair and starts pacing around Crutchie’s desk.

“Jeez, Jack, it’s all gonna be fine,” Crutchie cracks a smile. “You like him. He likes you. You’re funny and charming and a little stupid sometimes, but you’re a good guy. And he obviously sees it.” 

Jack stops his pacing to turn and face Crutchie.

“And seriously, you should see the way the guy looks at you. Man, I could see his heart eyes from all the way over here. I don’t know how you guys are so blind.”

Jack rolls his eyes and continues his pacing. He knows it’s a little irrational (more like a lot irrational), but he doesn’t know how else to react. He hasn’t been on a date, let alone have a crush, in over a year. He didn’t date much right out of college because he was so focused on opening the tattoo shop. Once they got settled, he tried dating apps. He met mostly biphobic girls (“Wait, so you like guys? So you’re gay?” and “I just feel like you’ll cheat.” were two phrases he encountered often) and men who only wanted one night stands (his notifications often read “dtf?” or some really shitty pickup line). He gave up on the aspect of dating pretty quickly and pushed it to the back of his mind. 

It’s sort of always stressed him out–the idea of being with one person forever. He’s voiced this before and attempted to talk it through with his therapist, but it’s still a lingering fear. Needless to say, it sprouts from his childhood trauma. Seeing how poorly his parents treated each other and the way they abandoned Jack gave him some serious issues. Being thrown around the foster care system did nothing to help.

Now, despite all of that, there are people in his life that have been there for years with no sign of leaving, soon if ever. There’s Race, his childhood best friend. They’ve known each other for twenty years and have been best friends the entire time. Sure, they’ve had a few spats, but they’re thick as thieves. It feels that at this point they’re too entwined in each other's lives to just suddenly stop one day. A best friend is not the same as a romantic partner, but their long relationship gives Jack some hope. 

There’s Medda, of course, his mother who he would take a bullet for. Legally, she can’t abandon him, but Jack thought that about his birth parents too. However, Medda has done nothing but love him and support him from the minute she met him. She has promised him, time and time again, that she’s not going anywhere. Jack believes her, but there will forever be a voice in the back of his head telling him she’s lying.

There’s his other close friends. Albert, Spot, and Crutchie–they own a business together, so Jack thinks it would be pretty difficult for them to cut him off. Plus, they’ve never shown any sign of wanting to. They’ve had their fair share of arguments, but they’re some of the best people Jack has ever known. Katherine too–Katherine, who is one of the sweetest people on the planet and deserves everything in the world. If she didn’t leave him when breaking up with him, Jack is pretty sure she’ll stick around.

Still, it’s hard to imagine himself in a serious relationship. His longest relationship was just over a year. How is he supposed to meet someone and be with them forever if he can’t even date someone for thirteen months?

Obviously, he’s jumping to conclusions here, but it’s difficult not to. It’s hard to picture himself with anyone forever, but at the same time, what’s the point of dating if not forever? He knows that’s a racing thought, and he knows that there are other options (another thing he’s tried to work through with his therapist), but sometimes that’s all he can think about. Dating can be for the fun stuff–kissing, cuddling, holding hands, going on dates, etc.–but don’t most people date to marry?

When he thinks back to his two serious relationships–Katherine and that boy, Blake, from college–he doesn’t exactly remember his intentions. He remembers meeting Katherine and thinking she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and how extremely out of his league she was. When they broke up, it was something that was out of both of their control, so it wasn’t too heartbreaking. Sure, Jack missed the intimacy that comes with being in a relationship, but all he ever wanted was for Katherine to be happy. Then, school started getting more stressful (the sophomore slump is not a joke), and he didn’t think about a relationship. 

Then Blake came along. Blake, who was pretty and nice enough and gave Jack attention that he hadn’t felt in a while. Jack, who craved validation and physical contact and got it in the ways he could. Blake, who turned out to be a massive asshole who Jack dumped around their one year anniversary. 

So, Jack didn’t date either of those people to marry them per say, but he was younger then too. Jack was eighteen when he started dating Katherine and twenty when he started dating Blake. He wasn’t thinking about marriage or forever–he was thinking about getting through college. Since then, he’s never made it past a few dates. He hasn’t labeled anything as a relationship since college. 

The fact of the matter is he’s twenty-seven. At this age, most people don’t want a relationship just for the hell of it. This is around the age that people start to get married and think about having kids. He isn’t sure what he wants in that regard. Since he hasn’t had very many serious relationships, he hasn’t really thought about it. He isn’t opposed to the idea of marriage but it isn’t something he needs in his life. He would love to foster kids, since he knows how horrible that system is, but he’s always pushed that thought off because he’s always felt too young for that. He realizes, now, that he isn’t.

What about Davey, though? Because that’s the real question, isn’t it?

How many serious relationships has Davey been in? Does he date to marry? Does he hate the idea of marriage? Does he want kids? Would he be okay with just fostering? Is he ready to settle down? Does he see Jack as the possibility of a serious relationship? Or does he just see Jack as a fun time? Does he just want a fuck buddy? Or does he want someone to cuddle and hold hands with?

Jack is spiraling. He feels a little like he’s drowning. Once he notices, he stops his pacing and attempts to take a few deep breaths.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “David Jacobs is already leading me to a borderline panic attack before the first date. I think that’s a new record,” he jokes.

Crutchie smiles sympathetically. “Jack, you’re one of the most genuine people on this planet. You have so much love in your heart and you let it swallow you whole sometimes–and not in a good way. You have to remember that you are in control of the situation, even if you don’t feel like it.”

Jack nods. “Yeah,” he swallows. God, he feels so embarrassed. Not only did he teeter on the edge of a panic attack, over Davey, but it happened in front of Crutchie. Not that Crutchie hasn’t seen this side of Jack before, but still, he feels a little pathetic. He scrubs his hands over his face. “Yeah. God, I’m sorry. I’m just–blegh, I don’t know. It’s a little sad how much I want him to like me.”

“You don’t have to want anything,” Crutchie says. “He does like you.”

Jack hops on Crutchie’s desk and lets his legs swing as he attempts to calm himself more. 

It’s fine to be nervous, he reminds himself. He has a bad habit of trying to force the anxiety away, but that’s not necessarily a good thing. It’s better to look at it, see why it’s happening, and think it through.

I’m nervous because I really like Davey. He’s nice and funny and really attractive and I want him to think all of those things about me. He takes a deep breath. But, he tells himself, I can’t control his actions or the way he perceives me. I can only control myself and the things I do.

He takes another deep breath and all but praises himself for doing some constructive thinking for once. He mentally thanks his years of therapy for the ability to work through things like this (on the rare occasion that he tries to).

“I can still see you thinking,” Crutchie playfully slaps Jack’s leg. “Go home. Try to get some good rest and I expect to hear every detail tomorrow.”

Jack doesn’t argue. He suddenly realizes how tired he is. “Yeah, thanks man.”

He moves back to his station and packs up his stuff. He throws everything into his backpack, but slings his headphones over his neck. He double checks he has everything he needs before swinging his backpack over his shoulder. He waves to Spot, who’s busy with his client. He fist bumps Albert because they’re still children at heart and often use that as a greeting or goodbye. He hugs Crutchie because Crutchie has always loved physical contact and Jack likes his hugs. He whispers another thanks.

He swings open the door to the shop and slides his headphones over his ears. He shuffles one of his many playlists and attempts to keep his thoughts Davey-free the whole way home.

———

His attempt to keep his thoughts Davey-free doesn’t stay successful for very long.

First, there’s the subway ride. Nothing happens on the subway–no Pretty Subway Boy encounters or anything like that–it’s just the subway itself that reminds Jack of Davey. It’s a little insane, but he rationalizes that thought by reminding himself that he’s seen Davey on the subway nearly every day for months now. So, really, it’s not that crazy to attach Davey to the subway. (It’s what started this whole thing anyway.)

Then, there’s getting home. Walking in the door to his apartment doesn’t make him think of Davey, but seeing Race does. He drops his stuff and starts telling Race everything.

“So, he came in for his tattoo, right?” Jack starts as he hops onto the counter. Race is cooking, and Jack can either pretend to help or be in the way. Tonight, he chooses to be in the way. “Which was, like, fine. Pretty normal, I guess. He was shirtless again and I had to force myself not to stare. He made some comment about liking to take his shirt off for me, which was like, enough to turn me bright red. And, god, I had to lean over him to get the angles of the lines right and he held my hips to keep me steady. That was nearly enough to kill me. Then we finished and his brother, Les, called him–Davey was insanely sweet and endearing to him, by the way–and Les started to say something about me, at least I think, but Davey cut him off. So then he left, and I thought that was that, y’know? But then, later, one of Spot’s clients comes in and says she found a card outside. Guess whose it is? Davey’s. So Crutchie’s all like ‘oh you should give it to him and confess your love’ or whatever. So I text him, right? I offered to drop it off at his place, but he said I didn’t need to do that, so I didn’t really want to argue. I guess I was feeling ballsy because I asked if he wanted to get coffee tomorrow morning and I could give it to him then. Keep in mind, I was just thinking of this as a friend hangout. Okay, so then, he said yes and I was thinking of something to say. You know when you type out a few different things just to see how they look before choosing one to send? Well I was doing that, and I typed ‘it’s a date’ with a smiley face and accidentally pressed send. For the next few seconds I thought I might die. But then, he answered with the same thing. ‘It’s a date’ and a smiley face. So now we’re getting coffee tomorrow and I guess it’s a date? I hope he doesn’t think I just said ‘it’s a date’ to say that it’s a plan. I hope he knows that I’m treating it as a date. I feel like I’ve been flirting with him enough that he should see my signs though, right?”

Race, bless his heart, nods and ‘mhm’s and keeps up with Jack’s rambling. He’s used to it–knowing Jack for almost his entire life means he’s used to the way he tells stories.

“Sorry, god, that was a lot. I almost had a panic attack over it, actually, which just sucks because I haven’t had one in so long. It’s sort of crazy how one guy can do all that to me.”

“That’s what being down bad will do to you,” Race says as he mixes a concoction of spices. Jack has no clue what he’s making but he fully trusts whatever it is. “You’ll be fine, though. You have enough experience with dating and being an absolute dork that Davey will fall in love,” he says dramatically. Jack flips him off.

Finally, later, there’s trying to fall asleep. Jack and Race had a nice dinner and watched some trash TV show to unwind. Jack was messing around in his sketchbook and Race was playing on his switch. It was a normal, calm evening. Once it hit ten-thirty, they both decided they were tired enough to retreat to their respective rooms. Jack crawled into his bed and let his exhaustion flood him. He felt the physical and mental exhaustion from his day. He got comfortable and closed his eyes. 

He was rudely reminded, thanks to his anxiety, about his date with Davey in less than twelve hours. He started getting anxiety filled intrusive thoughts and couldn’t seem to turn them off.

He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours (realistically, it was forty-five minutes), only to be met with the face of Davey in his dream.

It starts with Jack seeing Davey on the subway. They both get on at their regular stops, but instead of getting off where he always does, Davey stays on. He follows Jack off and through the streets until he’s walking into the doors of JAS Tattoo. 

Jack moves back to his station to begin setting up. Davey takes off his shirt. Instead of sitting down though, he just stands and faces Jack. 

“Davey? You’re gonna have to sit down so I can start,” Jack laughs. 

“No. I don’t want to.” Davey says. 

Jack raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I–”

Davey doesn’t give him any time to answer. He surges forward, grabs Jack’s face, and kisses him. 

Jack is frozen in place for a mere moment as his brain tries to process what’s happening. When it does, he practically melts. He all but falls into Davey as he kisses back. 

The dream goes on like that for a while, which is a direction Dream-Jack quite enjoys. Dream-Davey is just about to take it a step further when Real-Jack wakes up. His heart is racing and he really needs a cold shower. 

It’s seven in the morning, which is too early for a Saturday, but Jack drags himself out of bed and to the bathroom to take a quick shower. He goes through the motions quickly in hopes that he’ll be able to get a couple more hours of sleep. 

When he gets back in his room, it’s seven-fifteen. He gets into bed and wills himself to fall back asleep. He closes his eyes, tosses and turns, and tries everything he’s ever learned about falling asleep. Nothing seems to be working. 

So now, it's seven forty-five and Jack has been trying to fall back asleep for half an hour but he just can't. It’s truly a miracle he was able to get any sleep in the first place, he reminds himself. He groans with the realization that he’s now awake for the day.

He starts to feel extremely antsy, which is not a good thing. He has over two hours until his date and he isn’t sure how he’s going to pass all of that time. He messes around on his phone and attempts to read, but he just can’t get himself to focus. 

Eventually, he gets up and starts pacing around his room. He thinks through his interactions with Davey yesterday and he thinks about how they’ll interact today. He thinks about how Davey will greet him, and how wide his smile will be, and what he’ll be wearing, and–

Oh my god, Jack realizes. I have no fucking clue what I’m going to wear. Cue panic.

He goes over to his closet and stares at everything. What should he wear? It’s not like they’re going anywhere super fancy, so he doesn’t need a suit, but he should look nice, right? Does this call for a button up? Or can he get away with just a t-shirt? Is a t-shirt too casual?

He groans and all but stomps over to his bed. He flops onto it and thinks about his options. It’s all too overwhelming; he has way too many clothes. He tries to mentally plan something but just can’t. He decides he’ll need help. He facetimes the person with the best fashion sense he knows.

Katherine answers on the third ring. She looks a little disheveled and Jack quietly winces as he remembers what time it is.

“Jack, it’s not even eight o’clock. What could you possibly want?”

“Kath!” Jack sits up. “Long story short, I have a date with Davey this morning, and I have no clue what to wear. I’m on the borderline of freaking out and I need your help.”

Katherine sighs. “Fine. You’re lucky I love you.” There’s some shuffling. “I’ll be at your place in fifteen.”

“Oh my god, you’re the best,” Jack says. “I would be completely lost without you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Katherine smirks. “There better be some form of breakfast for me when I get there. See you soon.” She hangs up.

Jack is no chef, but Katherine is doing him a favor, so he makes her a bagel. Just buttered and toasted, nothing fancy, but edible and hopefully good enough for her. 

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock on his door. He opens it with a smile and ushers Katherine in.

“Thank you,” Jack says. “I don’t have the date for, like, two hours but I’ve given up on sleeping and I need to do something or I’ll go insane.”

“Were you this nervous before our first date?” Katherine smirks. She moves into the kitchen and starts to eat the bagel. “This is surprisingly good.”

“Thank you,” Jack smiles. “And yes, I was. I think I always am. This just feels a little more… elevated because this crush has been developing for literal months.”

She snorts and giggles at him. “God, you’re practically the king of pining at this point,” she teases. She stands up and moves towards his bedroom. “All right Kelly, let’s see what we’re working with.”

She wastes no time in starting to dig through his closet. Every once in a while, she’ll ask where something is, and Jack will point it out. Otherwise, he’s been instructed to sit on the bed. Jack finds it a little funny how seriously she’s taking this, but he appreciates it.

At some point, Race wakes up and comes to join them. He’s still half asleep, grumbling about Katherine being too loud, but he just collapses onto Jack’s bed and offers his commentary.

Katherine comes up with a few different outfit combos and has Jack try them on. He does a mini fashion show (walks in a circle around his room) and listens to the feedback given to him by his friends.

“Your ass looks good in those jeans.”

“That shirt makes you look buff.”

After what seems like hours (but was really only thirty minutes), he comes to a decision. It’s simple, but nice–a pair of jorts, a plain t-shirt, a flannel, and his docs. Casual and queer. Exactly what he’s going for.

He thanks Katherine profusely and promises to call her later with an update. She promises it’s no problem and leaves with a wave.

Jack still has an hour and a half, but he decides to leave early. Taking the subway will take a decent chunk of time. He can use the rest of his time getting his nerves out by walking around. Then, he can show up a couple minutes early and get a table for him and Davey. Perfect plan.

He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys. He double checks that he has Davey’s card since that’s what prompted this whole thing. He double checks himself in the mirror and takes a deep breath. He walks out of his room and towards the front door.

“Well, I’m gonna go,” Jack says. Race is in the kitchen making himself breakfast.

“Baby’s first date!” Race teases. “Go get ‘em, Cowboy.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Bye, Racer. I’ll see you later.” He opens the door.

“Bye, Jack!” Race calls as the door closes.

Jack takes a deep breath. He can do this.

———

The subway is fine. There’s nothing exciting and it’s not particularly crowded for a Saturday morning. He gets off at the stop he needs–Davey’s stop, he notes–and walks in the direction of the coffee shop. He still has some time to kill, but he doesn’t want to go too far.

With every step he takes, the idea of this date gets more and more real. With that comes more and more anxiety. Up until this point, it’s just been an idea. Simply a thought floating in the back of his head. But now, he’s on the way to execute it. It takes everything inside of him to not start freaking out.

It’s the first time he and Davey will be alone. Sure, the two of them have had many conversations by themselves, but there’s always been someone else in the room that Jack could call on if he found himself in an awkward place. Technically, there will be other people in the room, just not people that he knows.

Jack knows how first dates go. They’re a little awkward and anxiety inducing, but also so exciting. In his own experience, he’s always had a bit of a crush or admired the person before going on the first date, so it’s not like he has no idea who they are. Dating apps are a bit of an exception from this, although he’s only been on one date with someone he met on an app, and it was not a great experience. 

This is the most excited he’s been for a date in a while. Probably since college, honestly. That was the last time he had a crush like this. In school, it feels almost too easy to get a crush. You’re around the same people so often and get to know them. They develop without even processing it, and by the time you do, it’s too late. At that point, you either have to ride it out or make a move.

It sort of felt like that with Davey. He saw him everyday for a while. Even if it was from afar, simply seeing Davey was enough to make Jack fall for him. Then, when they got the chance to talk for the first time, that was it. Jack was absolutely smitten.

He wanders around for a while before eventually deciding to just go to the coffee shop. He’s only twenty minutes early, which is almost socially acceptable. Ten to fifteen is the norm, at least for him, so twenty isn’t insane. As he walks in the door, he debates grabbing a table or getting in line. He doesn’t want to order without Davey because that just seems rude. He wishes he knew Davey’s order, but he never thought to ask. 

There is one person who would know.

He takes his phone out of his pocket. He opens his messages app and scrolls to find the groupchat from the hangout at Katherine’s a week ago. There’s only one contact from that group that he doesn’t have saved. He hesitates, but eventually clicks on it.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. It’s answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Sarah, hi! It’s Jack Kelly.” 

“Jack,” Sarah says. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Jack fights the anxiety that’s clawing at him. This is Sarah. He’s talked to her before and she was nothing but nice. “So, a bit of a long story, but basically, I’m about to meet Davey for coffee and I was wondering if you knew his order?”

“So you finally grew a pair and asked him out, huh?” Sarah sounds amused.

“Yeah,” Jack blushes. “But anyways, I got here first, and I would feel like an ass not getting him anything. I could guess, but I figured I’d try you and see if you know.”

“Iced caramel latte with almond milk,” Sarah answers immediately. “He’s my twin brother, of course I know.”

Jack grins. “Thank you,” he replies. “As much as I’d love to talk–”

“Yeah, yeah, go buy my brother coffee.” There’s a pause. “I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I don’t really care since it’s already glaringly obvious. David has a fat crush on you, and you better not break his heart, okay? I know that he can stand up for himself, but since I have you here, I just thought I’d say that. Anyways, have a great date! I’m sure I’ll hear all the details later. Bye!” With that, she hangs up.

Jack’s cheeks are definitely a little pink, but he ignores it. He thinks it’s sweet that Sarah cares so much about Davey. (And that is the only thing he’s blushing about. Yup! Totally not the fact that she said Davey has a fat crush crush on him.)

Jack quickly orders an iced caramel latte with almond milk for Davey, an iced americano for himself, and finds a table. Davey was right–the shop is adorable. There’s warm lighting and nice furniture sprawled everywhere. There’s even live music in the corner. One of the walls opens up to a patio, and that’s where Jack chooses to sit. This way, he can sit and people watch until Davey gets here.

He sits down, putting his drink in front of himself and Davey’s in front of the empty chair. He checks his phone for any notifications and finds that he doesn’t have any. He puts it back in his pocket and wills himself to relax. He takes a sip of his coffee–damn, that is good–and tries to focus on the excitement, not the nerves. 

This is his first date with someone he’s been admiring for months. Yes, that’s nerve wracking, but it’s also so exciting. He’s happy; he honestly can’t help smiling when he thinks about it.

This is going to be great, he tells himself. 

Before he gets the chance to convince himself more, there’s someone calling his name. He looks up and is met with the glowing face of Davey Jacobs.

Jack doesn’t think Davey has seen him yet. He’s still a few feet away and his eyes are scanning the crowd. Jack takes this time to practically study Davey. He’s wearing a pair of jeans with rips in the knees, a white button up with embroidered flowers, and a pair of docs. Jack thinks it’s absolutely adorable. He has to stop his stare because after a moment, Davey finds him. They lock eyes and Jack’s heart flutters.

Jack waves him over. “Hey Davey!”

Davey smiles and takes a seat. “Jack, hi! I–” He cuts himself off as he notices the drink sitting in front of him. “Did you get this for me? You didn't have to.”

Jack grins. “Yes, I had to.”

Davey picks up the cup to read the label. His eyes light up. “Oh my god, how did you know my order? Are you psychic or something?”

Jack laughs, and Davey does too. “Sadly, no. I had to phone a friend.”

Davey doesn’t question that, but Jack sees realization wash over Davey’s face.“That’s so sweet,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for saying yes,” Jack says. He digs into his pocket and hands Davey his card back. “Really, I should thank you for dropping this.”

Davey chuckles and takes the card from Jack’s hand. Their fingers brush and Jack is a little sad when Davey pulls his hand back. “I swear I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“That’s what they all say,” Jack replies in a teasy, sing-songy voice. 

“Well, if that’s what it took for you to ask me out, I’d drop my entire bank account.”

Jack blushes and he notices Davey does too. “That was smooth, Jacobs.”

“Thanks, I try.”

The two fall into easy conversation. They talk about anything and everything. They’ve definitely acknowledged the fact that this is a date (much to Jack’s liking), so they’re definitely treating it like one.

“Favorite movie?” Jack asks. “This is a crucial part of first dates, Davey.”

Jack loves the way he can turn Davey’s cheeks pink. “God, that’s a hard question. Wow. Um. Probably either Fantastic Mr. Fox or La La Land. What’s yours?”

“Die Hard. Or Five-hundred Days Of Summer. Or Brokeback Mountain.”

“Die Hard and Brokeback Mountain make sense,” Davey says, “but I wouldn’t have guessed Five-hundred Days of Summer.”

“Why do you say that?” Jack all but turns his head in question.

“Well,” Davey starts, “You were a frat boy, so that means you have to like at least one over-popular action movie–”

“Die Hard is not over-popular–”

“Let me finish!” Davey pretends to sound upset, but when he’s smiling like that, it’s easy to tell he isn’t. “You were obsessed with cowboys when you were younger, right?”

Jack’s heart swells at the fact that Davey remembers that from their hangout with Katherine. Race told the story of the nickname “cowboy” because Davey asked. Jack just normally assumes that people forget that stuff.  

“Yeah,” Jack answers after a moment of being lost in thought. “Yeah, I was.”

“Right,” Davey nods. “I assume you liked cowboy movies too. I’m guessing that obsession didn’t completely go away as you got older. So, since Brokeback Mountain is one of the greatest cowboy movies of all time–yes I said that and I stand by it–it makes perfect sense. Now, Five-hundred Days of Summer is a movie so different from those two. It focuses on a relatively boring straight couple, but is told through a non-linear timeline which is what is most appealing to audiences. It’s also just… such a real movie, you know? Tom and Summer are not the perfect couple, they don’t live happily ever after, and I just wouldn’t think you would be attracted to that kind of story.” He pauses. “You’ve always seemed like a happily ever after guy, but maybe you have more depth than I thought,” he teases.

“Wow. That’s… wow. You just analyzed the hell out of me and I’m not sure how to feel about it,” Jack jokes.

Davey shrugs. “I have a degree in English Literature. I have spent many hours of my life analyzing.”

The two are quiet, simply sipping their drinks, when Jack says: “I could analyze you too, you know.”

Davey smirks. “Oh yeah? Go for it. Give me your best shot.”

Jack is silent for a couple seconds and then says: “Your tattoo. The Icarus one. You said you’ve loved it for years now–but that’s not the point. Everyone knows the story and knows the lesson, right? Don’t get too cocky and don’t fly too close to the sun. But… I don’t know. Yes, it’s a tragedy, but it wasn’t always. At the beginning, it was the tale of a boy who was excited from a new creation and brave enough to try it because he trusted the person who made it. It would’ve been so easy to be scared, or hesitant, but he reached for the top simply because he could.” He looks at Davey and meets his eye. He doesn’t say any more, but he hopes Davey gets what he’s saying. You’re Icarus, Davey. “I don’t know, maybe that’s stupid.”

“No,” Davey says immediately. “No, it’s not.”

———

They sit and talk for what feels like forever. Not forever in a bad way, though, no–it’s good. It’s so good. Jack hasn’t naturally got along with someone like this in such a long time. (Plus, they flirt with each other, which is very nice.)

Jack knows they can’t stay here all day, but it’s still a little sad when Davey eventually says: “I should get going.”

Jack has to fight a frown. This has been so fun–but he’s right. It’s been an hour and a half and their coffees are long gone.

“Let me walk you home,” Jack offers.

“No, Jack, you don’t have to do that,” Davey protests. “I live less than five minutes away and–”

“Please?” Jack locks eyes with Davey and prays to everything for just a few more minutes with him. Apparently, it works, because Davey grins and rolls his eyes.

“Okay, fine, but only because I think it’s really cute.”

“I think you’re really cute,” is what slips out of Jack’s mouth. It’s probably one of the most stupid things he’s ever said, but Davey is blushing again, so who cares.

They stand up from their seats and Davey grabs both of their cups to throw them away. As he does, Jack attempts to take a deep breath.

As Davey comes back, Jack holds out his hand. He’s not even really sure why he does. He just knows that he wants to hold Davey’s hand. So now he has to come up with something to say to cover it. “Mr. Jacobs, your chauffeur awaits.” Real smooth, dumbass, Jack tells himself.

Davey laughs and grabs Jack’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Jack feels his heart speed up. “You don’t even know where I live,” he points out.

“No, but that’s what you’re here for. You have to direct me.”

So, he does. Davey directs them through the streets of New York and Jack swings their hands as they walk. He takes a moment to revel in the fact that he’s here. He’s here, holding hands with Davey Jacobs, walking him home after their first date. He tries to hide the urge to smile, but he just can’t.

It just so happens that at that moment, Davey looks over. “What are you smiling at?” They round a corner. 

“You,” Jack answers all too quickly. Davey stops them as they walk in front of a nice looking apartment building. Jack doesn’t stop talking, though. “I’ve just–god, Davey–I’ve wanted this for months and now it’s finally happening.”

Davey is silent for a few moments, staring at Jack. “What?”

Jack tilts his head in confusion. “What?”

“You said you’ve wanted this for months,” Davey starts. (Oh shit, Jack realizes.) “but you’ve only known me for a little over a week.”

Jack feels himself go bright red and hides his face in both of his hands, even though that means letting go of Davey’s.

“Jack? Are you–”

“This is probably the most pathetic thing ever, and you can declare me a stalker if you want, but… I’ve been seeing you on the subway for months now. And I’ve had a crush on you since then.” Jack moves his hands to look at Davey. “And I know you don’t remember, but at Katherine’s the other day you were super drunk and you called me something–Cute Subway Guy? I was so glad you were wasted because I literally choked on my water and turned bright red. But, Davey, I noticed you too. It was so hard not to. I declared you my Pretty Subway Boy from the moment I saw you.”

Davey blinks. Once. Then twice. He just stares and Jack’s heart drops. I’ve fucked it all up, he realizes. I’ve said too much, and he knows how insane I am, and he’ll never talk to me again. I ruin everything, I–

But Jack’s thoughts get cut off, because before he can even process what’s happening, Davey is grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

Their lips smash together and Jack just melts. Jack feels his knees buckle, and Davey moves his hands to Jack’s waist to keep him steady. Jack places a hand on Davey’s cheek and runs this other through Davey’s hair and good lord Davey Jacobs is a good kisser.

They’re sweet and they’re passionate and they’re maybe a little bit angry that they didn’t do this sooner.

Davey is the one to pull away, although he makes no effort to move his hands. “Was that okay? Sorry, I should’ve asked first, I just…” He trails off.

Jack smiles. “Yes, that was more than okay.”

They stand there, just holding each other. People on the street may think they’re crazy, but they don’t care.

“You really noticed me?” Davey asks in a small voice.

Jack’s answer is immediate. “How could I not?”

Davey blushes and Jack really, truly believes that he’ll never get tired of that image.

“I had a really good time, Jackie,” Davey smiles.

Jack thinks he may just die. He hasn’t heard that name since drunk Davey a week ago.

“Me too,” Jack answers. “We’ll do this again sometime, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Davey nods. 

Jack leans in for another kiss–this one is just a quick peck on the lips. Still, though, it gives him butterflies in his stomach.

He doesn’t want to say bye to Davey, but he does. They untangle themselves from each other. Jack frowns comically large and Davey kisses it and Jack thinks he may never frown again.

Even as he walks away, he doesn’t do so sadly. He walks away with a huge grin on his face because New York is crazy–millions of people ride the subway everyday and there are hundreds of tattoo shops in the city. But yet, somehow, he managed to stumble across David Jacobs. 

The universe gave him Pretty Subway Boy, and how could be sad about that?