Crutchie Morris had always been observant. Being an easy target (disabled, poor, sleeping on the streets...) had taught him to always keep alert-- so it's no surprise when Crutchie notices Jack Kelly acting a little off the last few days.
Sometimes, Jack just had off days; he was certainly never the happiest of the bunch, and he'd been dealt more bad hands than any of the boys could count (except, perhaps, Elmer, little mathematician he was), but he'd usually bounce back pretty quickly. This time was different.
Crutchie couldn't help but notice Jack's quietness, and his frustration when he did speak-- it wasn't like him to be so rough with the boys he called his family. It's not like any of them would ever ask what's wrong, though, lest they take a fist to the jaw-- Jack was their leader, and it wasn't their place.
It was, however, Crutchie's place.
Once a long day of selling had finally come to a close, (a day Crutchie had spent watching Jack like a hawk), the two finally came to rest up at the penthouse in the crisp summer air. Things were cooler and quieter up here, thank god for that after such a long and miserable day, but the fresh air only seemed to do so much to comfort Jack.
Crutchie had secretly, kind of hoped the fresh air would be enough for Jack. He'd always been so stubborn when it came to talking about his feelings. But, ah well, Crutchie figures, that's what friends are for.
"What's got'cha so down, Jack?" Crutchie asks, trying to put on an air of casualness, hoping it would make Jack open up more.
"Nothin," Jack grumbles unconvincingly, not that he's necessarily trying to be convincing; he just doesn't want to talk. He just wants to sit here and scribble away the rest of the night in peace. Simple as that.
Crutchie huffs when Jack doesn't even look up at him. Little bastard. He nudges Jack with his foot to force him to look up and acknowledge him.
"You'se been pissy all week. Cough it up, Kelly. You know I see right through ya."
Jack grumbles again, not looking up from his paper, but his hand stills from drawing.
"Just been stressed with the new job," he says dismissively. "Joe's real particular with the cartoons. Still pushin' me around even after everything. Figures."
Crutchie doesn't exactly believe him, but hums in understanding anyway.
"Well, didn'tcha talk with Katherine about it?"
(Come to think of it, nobody's seen Katherine much lately...)
Jack sighs, looking down at the ground. He sets down his sketchbook and pencil beside him, rubbing his temples.
"We broke up. Few days ago."
Crutchie gasps. Of course it wasn't the job. And that explains her absence.
"And ya didn't think to tell me?!"
"It wasn't a big deal!" Jack insists defensively, "I didn't think I had to tell you!"
Crutchie's brow furrows. "It is a big deal!" He softens a little, pity all across his face. This certainly isn't the first breakup he's had to help Jack through, but he's never seemed this upset about them before. "You really liked her, Jack."
"I thought I did," Jack adds, mostly to himself, much quieter than before.
Crutchie feels any anger he felt before fade within seconds as he looks at his best friend curl in on himself. It wasn't like Jack to look so... small.
"Whatcha mean thought? Wasn't she the whole reason you'se wanted to stay here with us? In New York?"
Jack's eyes meet Crutchie's, his eyes watery and pitiful. He doesn't say anything, but Crutchie thinks he understands anyway.
"You mean you... stayed for me, then?"
Jack nods, sniffling a little, face pressed against his arms.
"I mean, not just you-- I stayed for all of ya's," he clarifies, voice a little muffled, "but... yeah. Mostly you."
Crutchie doesn't know what to say to that. He thinks he feels a little sick. It certainly never felt like he was the reason Jack decided to stay.
"Kath and I just... we ain't right for eachother," Jack backtracks, softening a little. "I don't think I liked her the way I thought I did. I mean, she's great, don't get me wrong, just..."
He sighs and trails off for a moment.
"... I feel like I was just tryin' to tell myself I liked her 'cause I felt like I had to."
Crutchie cocks his head a little, brow furrowing.
"Whatcha mean 'had to'?"
Jack sighs again, as if frustrated he even has to elaborate.
"I feel like I just... I dunno, she's a pretty girl and I felt like I's supposed to like her. But I don't. Not like that. Don't think I've ever actually liked a girl like that."
Jack knows he should really shut his mouth, but what does he really have to lose? Nothing's ever stopped him from running his mouth before, that's for sure.
"I think I's only ever liked boys like that. I think I's only ever liked you like that."
"What?" is all Crutchie can manage to choke out.
"Just- just forget it, it was stupid, I'm probably just sayin' shit just 'cause I--"
"Me?"
Jack nearly laughs.
"God. Yeah, you. Who else?"
Crutchie can feel his face warm up within seconds. He feels a little nauseous, he thinks. It feels like the butterflies in his stomach are fluttering all over, like they're trying to escape.
"You- you mean you--"
"Yes."
Jack cuts him off like he can't stand to hear Crutchie speak another second. His brow is furrowed and his face partially covered with his hand, as if he's trying to slink away and make himself disappear. Crutchie hopes he never disappears. He hopes he can never stop looking at Jack Kelly.
"Oh, Jack..." Crutchie murmurs, just hardly audible. He shifted, holding Jack's face in his hands, looking at the boy he held so dear. Jack's dark brown eyes dart across Crutchie's face, emotion indecipherable.
"I love you too, Jack Kelly. Always have."
It takes only seconds for Jack to lean forward, one hand tangled in Crutchie's hair and the other holding the sleeve of his shirt. He smashes his lips into Crutchie's, much too rough, not that he cares-- he feels like he's waited his entire life for this moment. His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, his hands shaking and head reeling. Crutchie is completely still for a moment, breath caught in his throat, before he softens and brings his hands up to tangle in Jack's hair.
Jack feels like he's never felt before-- it's nothing like kissing Katherine, and he feels guilty for thinking that, but he can't focus on it for long at all. He feels like one of his paintings of Santa Fe, colors swirling and mixing and all so bright, he feels like he could stay right here forever, he's never wanted anything more in his life. Not even Santa Fe. This, right here, this could be his Santa Fe. Maybe it always was.
After a few moments, Crutchie pulls away, cheeks red and hair a mess. Jack follows him, trying to lean in again, but Crutchie only leans back further, a frown forming on his face.
"Jack, we can't just--"
"I know," Jack cuts him off, drowning in his own guilt immediately.
"I'm not-- we're not--"
"I know."
Jack pulls himself away, standing up and leaning over the railings of the scaffolding, unable to look at Crutchie. Fuck, how could he be so stupid? He feels like he's just heard the morning bell after a night of dreaming, suddenly reminded of the grey, foggy reality he lives in.
"It's-- it's not that I don't--"
"Crutchie."
Crutchie goes silent for a moment, but tentatively steps closer to Jack, pit in his stomach only growing.
"It's not that I don't... that I don't feel the same way," he tries again, "it's just-- you know..."
Jack sighs, still not looking at Crutchie, looking down at the ground. He thinks about hopping up and throwing himself over the edge. At least it'd make a good headline for the boys, huh?
"Yeah."
"Jack..." Crutchie cautiously places a hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack flinches, but he doesn't make any effort to stop Crutchie, either. "Please look at me."
Jack hesitates, but does as he is asked, and only finds himself immediately wanting to look away again. Crutchie looks at him with a pitiful expression, eyes watery and hands shaking.
"I- I don't want you to think I-- it's just not-- I'm--"
Crutchie shakes his head, hand dropping from Jack's shoulder. Now it's his turn to look away, covering his face for a moment as he tries to collect his thoughts. Jack watches with an attentiveness he rarely, if ever, shows. He hates himself for looking so carefully, for noticing every little detail and never wanting to look away. He hates the way Crutchie makes him feel, and he hates even more that he's never felt that way before. God, what is wrong with him?
When Crutchie looks up at Jack again, he looks more sure of himself. Jack hardly has time to process before Crutchie's hands grab his collar and pull their faces back together, lips colliding again as Crutchie's aid makes a clatter on the ground. Crutchie leans against Jack, taking the weight off his bad leg, and Jack quickly places his hands on Crutchie's waist to better support him.
Jack is hardly thinking at all now-- what he is thinking is just various obscenities on loop in his head ("holy shit holy fuck holy shit!!!!!!!!")-- and he pulls Crutchie closer against him, kissing him like there's no tomorrow. Sometimes it feels like there is no tomorrow. He doesn't want tomorrow to come. He wants to stay right here, forever, tangled up with this boy he's dreamed of all his life. He doesn't care if he has to stay in this horrible city forever-- why would he ever want to leave when Crutchie is right here?
Jack, in an unthinking action of pure excitement, leans back and presses Crutchie back onto the scaffolding; Crutchie suddenly breaks the kiss with a little woah! but hes laughing, oh, god, he's laughing. Jack wants to keep making him laugh, he never wants to stop looking at that smile.
Jack smiles back, effortlessly, and the two sit in a comfortable near-silence of smiles and breathy laughter. Jack watches Crutchie's smile falter for a moment and feels his stomach drop.
"What about Katherine?" Crutchie asks quietly, face still warm and flushed but smile fallen.
"What about Katherine?"
"What's she gonna think?"
"Does it matter?" Jack asks, finally pulling away. But of course it matters.
"I think it does," Crutchie adds, confirming Jack's thoughts as he picks up his crutch again. "And... then there's the others."
Jack sighs to himself. "It's-- they'll understand," he says, though he doesn't sound so sure. "I'm sure we's not the only ones."
Crutchie makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a laugh, but is devoid of any humor. "Sure. But that don't make it any easier, does it?"
"When have I ever been one for easy?"
Crutchie makes a face that tells Jack he's being serious, please don't make jokes right now, and Jack awkwardly clears his throat.
"Yeah. It don't make it any easier," Jack agrees simply. "But I don't care. I don't, Crutch."
Crutchie watches Jack silently, trying to decipher what he could possibly mean. How could he not care? After all he's been through? Shouldn't he know how dangerous and stupid this is? They could get themselves hurt or killed, or worse, tossed in the Refuge again--
"I don't care what happens," Jack continues, sensing Crutchie's worry. "Long as I'm with you. If-- if they can't handle it then--"
"But I care, Jack," Crutchie insists, voice near-desperate. "I care."
Crutchie looks almost pitiful, eyes watery again, shoulders tense and trembling. Jack hates seeing him like this. He just wants to pick up all the broken pieces and slot them back together, fix everything in an instant. He pulls Crutchie into his arms, but Crutchie shoves him off, stepping further back as tears threaten to fall.
"I'm-- I'm not like you, Jack," Crutchie starts, voice wavering in a way that makes Jack feel sick to his stomach. "I'm not strong like you. I'm weak, if they find out we's--"
"You're not weak, Crutch--"
"But I am! You know I am! That's the only reason you keep me around," Crutchie shouts, face flushing again, this time from frustration. "You keep me around 'cause you think I's some pitiful lil' thing you'se gotta take care of. You think I'm some-- some charity case."
Crutchie's words hit Jack like a dagger to the heart. Is that really what Crutchie thought he saw?
"No, I don't th--"
"But I know you do! Why else would you keep me around? It's not like I have anything goin' for me--"
"Charlie."
Crutchie shuts up the millisecond he hears his name, his real name. He suddenly looks so small, and Jack just wants to scoop him up into his arms. But he knows better.
"I don't-- I don't think you're weak, or- or a charity case, or any of that. I don't know why you'd ever think that. You are... the strongest person I have ever met."
Crutchie rolls his eyes, looking away from Jack.
"I mean it," Jack insists, tentatively stepping closer to Crutchie. "You are so strong. Hell, I'm willing to bet you'se stronger than me!"
Crutchie gives Jack a look, but it doesn't stop him.
"You're-- you're strong, and you're kind, and funny, and you're--" Jack chokes on his words. How could he ever describe Crutchie? No words, especially not in his limited vocabulary, would ever be enough to describe Crutchie Morris.
"You're perfect. You're everythin'. You're all I's ever wanted."
Crutchie takes a moment to process this, a heavy sigh escaping him alongside any anger he held before. He feels Jack's arms wrap around him, gentle and so, so careful, and he just wants to stay here forever, wrapped in his embrace. Crutchie rests his head on Jack's chest, leaning close to him and trying to memorize this moment: the worn texture of Jack's clothes, his shaky breathing against Crutchie's hair, the cool breeze whirling around them, the warmth and strength of Jack's arms around him even in such a gentle embrace...
"Someone's gonna see us," Crutchie mumbles, voice still shaking with a hint of fear, but he makes no effort to move away from Jack.
"Up here? On top of the world?"
"It's not as high up as you think."
"Well, let 'em see," Jack shrugs. "I don't care who sees. I don't care what they think. I want 'em to know I'm yours."
Crutchie laughs. "You'se gonna get us killed, Jack."
"They can try," Jack laughs. "You'd probably have 'em down and beggin' for mercy 'fore they could land a hit."
Crutchie rolls his eyes, but fondness lay clear on his features. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Jack's lips, their smiles pressed together.
Jack sighs softly as he pulls away, looking at Crutchie with a gentleness he's never looked at anything, much less anyone, with before.
"Feels like I'm dreamin'."
"For once, I don't think you are, Kelly."
Jack smiles, going in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around Crutchie and spinning him around, like there's nothing in the world that could ever bring him down, like this, right here, is all that's left, all that matters. He hopes Crutchie feels the same.
"I love you," Jack says, like he's said a million times before; but this time, this time, it holds so much more. "I love you so much."
"I love you too, Jack Kelly. Don'tcha ever forget it."