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"Ey, uh, Dave? Could I... talk to you for a minute?" Uncertainty colored Jack's words as he wrung his hands together, twisting the palms of his hands against each other and trying to steady his breath. Dammit. Did this have to be so stressful?
Davey frowned, setting down whatever he'd been focusing on and twisting to face his partner.
"Of course, Jackie."
Jack huffed, feeling a little of the tension ebb from his shoulders at the soft easy fall of 'Jackie' from the Jewish boy's lips. Jack felt his lips quirk up in a smile. Raking his finger back through his hair, he stuttered an, "Uh. Well. Um, I-I-"
Jack bit his tongue hard and felt the shift in Davey's concern as he crossed over to him.
"Jack?" He probed gently, knitting his brow in concern.
"It's important to me and I just-" Jack broke off.
The rooftop was silent for a moment. Even though he wasn't looking, Jack knew Davey's face was twisting and he was scrunching up his nose the way he did when he was trying to make sense of something. Jack sucked in a sharp breath, eyes feeling dangerously warm.
"I don't want you to hate me," Jack's voice broke and wobbled precariously and he swung his head away. He bit his lip hard. He didn't think he could bring himself to meet Davey's gaze, and he hated the thought of baring his vulnerabilities for anyone to see.
His shoulders rose up around him as he tried to still his breathing.
"What- Jack. Jack," and then Davey's hand was cupping his jaw, thumb gently brushing his cheek and Jack took note of the fact at how much more tactile Davey had become with him, softer in the time since the two of them had started their relationship. "I'm not going to hate you," his words were sharp with disbelief and rebuke.
Right.
Jack let his eyes dart to the door before dropping his gaze drop to his hands. He curled them into tight fists.
"Right, well, I uh-" He swallowed hard. "Okay, here goes."
Jack took a deep breath and tried to quell the swelling self-doubt inside his chest.
"I'se always known I was a boy. I am a boy. But I..."
Jack rolled his shoulder, raising a hand to his hair as he breathed in through his nose. He wasn't good at this, there was no... easy cut and dry formula for this. And this was Davey. Davey, who meant the world to him.
"I wasn't born a boy," Jack's words fell clumsily and he winced. "That- that ain't exactly right but I don't know how else to explain it. When I was born, everybody they... they thought I was a girl, aight? Because... I had certain parts. So, uh... they called me that for a while. When I said that was wrong, well, not everyone was too happy with that. They was pretty mad about it, achtually, and uh, a lot a people weren't afraid to let me know exactly how mad. I wasn't born- I wasn't born with a body that fit right with how I feel. I don't have the... things that people think makes a guy and all. I'm a boy. I've always known I was a boy, I just... had to work a little harder for people's too see it that way. My name, uh, wasn't Jack Kelly then but it's mine now. That's... the bandages 'n stuff? I have some for the boys in case any of the m get hurt but I, I use them to... make my chest less obvious and stuff."
Jack's words fell painfully soft at the end before he cleared his throat, rambling on.
"Race has helped with that too. Apparently Brooklyn has a rule about using em for 8 hours only? He's pretty rigid about that. Racer also taught me a thing or two about how to fit pants to look more 'masculine' for such."
Jack carefully kept his eyes across from them, lower than eye height. His shoulders stayed tense around him, breathing a little shuddery.
"An I'm sorry."
Davey had been quiet through his explanation, but it was only then that he paused. "What are you apologizing for?"
Jack jolted, stammering, "I- I should have told you sooner or- or somethin'? I mean, I'm some-"
"Whatever you're going to say next, I suggest you don't finish it," Davey cuts him off and Jack startles with a sharp intake of breath. Davey's eyes are soft and sincere when he gingerly brushes Jack's hair away and Jack shudders slightly under the touch. "I only ever feel the need to fight when I hear someone talking bad about my fella," his words were dangerously fond.
Jack blinked. Stopped for a moment.
"You don't- you aren't-" his words are escaping him and he clears his throat before saying meekly, "You don't mind?"
"Jack," Davey locks eyes with him. "Did you start the strike with me?"
Jack wrinkled his nose. "Yes, of course I did, bu-"
"You still run the Manhattan newsies?"
Jack blinked, nodding in response and opening his mouth to try to say anything but-
"Like painting with Medda's on your off hours?" Davey asked, eyes level with Jack's and remarkably collected.
"Of course, Dave," Jack protested weakly. "What even are you on about?"
"Jack, you're still the same guy as you've always been. You just told me something about yourself I didn't know before," Davey smiled at him, softer. "Thank you, for trusting me enough to tell me."
"But I'm-" his voice broke and Jack twisted his head away, swallowing hard.
"Jack," Davey's fingers, long and nimble darted across his hand and laced with his. Jack let his eyes dart up to meet Davey's and his eyes were soft and bright and sincere in that open way of his. "I love you, same as always. And I- I'm queer. I like boys. It's as simple as that, really."
Jack felt his eyes heat up and suddenly the film if tears was spilling over. He felt a hand fly up to his face as he choked on a sob and Davey stiffened behind him, eyes going wide and panicked.
"Sh- shit Jack, I- I'm sorry I didn't mean to. I wasn't trying to make you upset or make things worse oh oh my gosh I'm so sorry," Davey babbled frantically, hands flailing out before Jack cut him off with a garbled laugh.
"No, no, Dave you're okay. It's good, I'm good I just," Jack swallowed, throat painfully tight and when he turned to the lankier boy his smile was wet. "God, I love you."
Davey went a little pink at that and stuttered a moment before managing a slightly jerky nod, mumbling an echo of the same sentiments. He cleared his throat and Jack choked on a huffed laugh, swiping at his eyes with the beginnings of a smile.
"Jackie," Davey spoke, name feather light and almost reverent before he winced. "Oh- oh gosh is, is that alright?" His words rose up uncertainly at the edges, eyes round and achingly concerned.
"I woulda told ya if it wasn't," Jack shot back, teasingly. He softened before telling him quietly, "It's perfect." And God, it was.
"Jack, you've always been the best guy I've ever known. This hasn't changed that," Davey's hand squeezed Jack's reassuringly, and his voice swelled a little as he said firmly. "Not a bit."
Jack scoffed a little, turning his head away and trying to make himself swallow. His neck heated up uncomfortably and he tried to focus on steadying his breathing. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with that, or how to believe any of the nice things Davey said about him. He was... he was getting there, though, and Davey, bless him, stayed quiet and didn't press him any further.
When Jack turned back to him, he felt painfully small and uncertain. He opened his mouth, trying not to wonder how many of Medda's paints he'd have to swirl to capture the crystal perfect hues of Davey's eyes and
"Can I kiss you?" Jack blurted out.
Well, that is not what he intended to say but when Davey, seeming faintly amused but a little hesitant nods decisively Jack closes the gap between them and Dave meets them halfway there.
Kissing Davey is easy, and in some base way Jack knew that kissing Davey had not lost it's wonder and he didn't think it ever would. Jack still felt his heart flutter in his chest and couldn't stop sparks from lighting under his skin and being knocked dizzy with love when they kissed. There were a thousand tinier things to notice: the trace of some sweetness on Davey's lips, the way their breaths mingled and shared and became one, Davey's fingers and his fumbling to grip with one another's as they shifted ever closer, and the softer understanding as they snuck kisses between breaths and whisper hushed I love you's.
Eventually, Jack sketches. Davey watches the sky, smiling and Jack smudges charcoal as he tries to perfectly capture the other boy's wide eyed joy. And if, after Jack pleads in a feather soft way, peering up from his reused newspaper, "Stay with me?" Davey is tugged into Jack's bed after him to share the mattress neither of them say a thing. ("Always," Davey promises with the ghost of a smile at Jack's quey.) If they cuddle close together as they wait for sleep to take them, sharing smiles with words meant only for each other, well, cuddling for warmth as the colder months drew near could be a good enough excuse.
"I love you, Jack," Davey murmurs, later, when they've found themselves tangled together under the warmth of the sheets listening to the steady breaths of one another.
Their hands lace together and in the end Jack ends up resting his head on Davey's chest. Jack wrapped his arm around the other boy's waist and let his hand curl with his partner's.
"I know, Davey," Jack's voice cracks with painful fondness and there's nothing more that needs to be said.