Chapter Text
Jack laughs. Race’s birthday only passed a month or so ago, but he’s already gotten started on planning what to do to for his next one as a few of the boys eat dinner at Tibby’s.
“I oughta find a bar ‘round here,” he ponders out loud. “I’ll tell ‘em I’m an adult.” His eyes twinkle with mischief, and David, nestled comfortably under Jack’s arm, scoffs.
“You’re only gonna be sixteen, Racer,” he reminds him.
“So? I’m mature,” Race replies, putting on an air of prestige he definitely doesn’t have. Blink snorts.
“An’ yet ya still the youngest one ‘ere,” Crutchy points out, and everyone laughs.
Jack glances around to confirm, and, of course, Crutchy’s right. Blink turns seventeen sometime in the fall, Mush and David are sixteen, and Crutchy’s about to join them.
“Face it, Higgins, ya still gotta get chaperoned,” Blink jokes, and Race scoffs, indignant.
“I ain’t gotta do nothin’,” he gripes, crossing his arms. “‘Sides, ain’t Jack legal by now? What’s ‘e doin’ sittin’ ‘round ‘ere wit’ a bunch a’ kids?” The rest of the boys laugh.
“Hell if I know,” Jack mumbles, but it seems like David’s the only one to hear, his head snapping up and studying Jack carefully. Jack shrugs dismissively, and he backs down, still eyeing him every so often as their friends dream up increasingly ridiculous celebrations.
“I wouldn’t mind drivin’ a car upstate,” Mush muses in mock thoughtfulness.
“Oh, yeah, and I’ll ride a horse right next to ya!” Crutchy chimes in. The table lets out a slow breath, only giggling at his self-deprecation once he does.
“I’d hate ta let a birthday pass without divin’ off the Brooklyn Bridge,” Race says sarcastically, and Mush elbows Blink in the side, shaking his head, but Blink ignores him.
“Yeah, ya got a better present waitin’ for ya on the other side, don’tcha?”
Blink cackles as Racetrack glares at him, and Jack howls with laughter as Mush and Crutchy wipe away tears. David giggles quietly, but Jack can tell he’s only trying to spare Race the embarrassment.
Race’s “business deal,” as he calls it, with Spot Conlon is no secret, at least to the older Manhattan boys, and they take every available opportunity they can to make jabs at him for it.
“Yeah, a nice winnin’ horse wit’ my name on it, ya jealous?” he shoots back.
“Nah, wouldn’t dream of it,” Blink concedes, pacifying Race for the time being.
“What would you do, Dave?” Mush asks.
“Oh, I don’t know,” David stalls. “I guess I’d have to settle for an encyclopedia,” he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Jack grins down at him, pulling him closer when he smiles back easily, his nose crinkling. He loves when David lets his sarcastic side shine; that’s part of what drew him in so quickly anyway.
“For my birthday,” Blink starts, planting his hands on the table, “I’d wanna sleep,” he announces, and stands up. Mush and Crutchy nod quickly in agreement, joining him as they slide out of the booth. Race sighs.
“Yeah, yeah, I s’pose you fellas got the right idea. But I ain’t sayin’ that ‘cause I’m tired,” he clarifies. “I’s got important business to attend to on this fine evenin’,” he tell them, pulling out a cigar.
Jack slaps him on the back.
“Tell Spotty I said hi.”
“Sure thing,” Race agrees absently, handing his coins to the waiter. “Hey, wait a damn minute!”
But Jack has already taken off, David’s hand in his, and they sprint towards the Jacobs’ apartment, laughing the entire way.
When they finally reach the building, David takes the lead, tugging Jack along as they climb up the fire escape, and he stops them once they reach his room. Jack gives him a curious look.
“You know my birthday, right?” David asks him, intertwining their other hands so they’re facing each other. Jack nods quickly.
“‘Course. November fourteenth,” he answers easily. David smiles.
“Good job,” he says gently, pressing up to plant a soft kiss to Jack’s lips. “I don’t know yours, though,” he adds earnestly.
Jack shrugs.
“What’s it matter anyway?” He’s deflecting, and he knows it.
“Jackie, don’t be difficult,” David pleads, rubbing his thumbs in circles over the backs of Jack’s hands. “It’s been almost a year to the day that I’ve known you, and you still haven’t had a birthday.”
“I dunno my birthday,” Jack confesses.
“That’s what I thought,” David frowns, clearly thinking hard.
“You’re so smart, Davey,” Jack says, pressing a kiss to David’s forehead, taking pleasure in how immediately David’s cheeks flush.
“When do you want your birthday to be?” David pushes on, and Jack sighs, shrugging.
“It really ain’t all that important, though,” he says dismissively.
“Well sure it is.” David’s eyes are so earnest and bright that Jack can’t find it in him to brush him off. “When else am I supposed to take you out to dinner?”
He really is smart, Jack thinks, laughing as he rolls his eyes.
“Tease. I think ya could get away wit’ that pretty often anyway, don’t ya think?”
David swats his arm in annoyance.
“Answer the question, Jackie,” he laughs. “What’s a day that’s important to you?”
Jack opens his mouth, about to say something snarky, but he pauses. In all fairness, without a birthday, there aren’t many days a person can consider particularly meaningful, save for their anniversaries, he supposes. Suddenly, he remembers David’s words.
“You said we’s known each other a year now, right?” David nods.
“Tomorrow.”
Jack leans back and thinks. No one remembers the day they were born, that’s for certain. All Jack knows is that one day, he didn’t exist, and the next, he did. Sure, he was alive through all of that, even if he was young, but clearly none of it was important enough to remember.
He thinks back to his early teenage years. Most of his days were spent running, hiding, selling, and sleeping, excluding the occasional trip to Central Park with the older boys.
He thinks back to almost exactly year ago. He’d never felt more alive than when he ran into David in the square, and rode that thrill all the way through the next twelve months. Maybe that’s when you were really born, his mind tells him.
“Then tomorrow will be my birthday,” he announces.
“Jackie…”
“I think that was the day I really came to life,” he says honestly, and David’s answering smile is so warm that Jack can’t believe they didn’t get together sooner.
Jack leans down to kiss him, full and sweet, his hands coming up to cradle David’s face. He tastes like root beer, Jack thinks dimly, but loses all of his remaining senses when David’s hands come to rest gently on his waist, holding him in place without ever moving a muscle.
When they pull apart, David is the first to speak.
“I’d better get to bed,” he sighs, gesturing towards his bedroom window.
Jack nods, taking David’s hand in his and absentmindedly playing with his fingers.
“You should too, you know.” David fixes him with an imploring stare.
“Yeah, yeah, I will,” he agrees, and David smiles.
“Good.” He pulls his hand back and draws it up to Jack’s face, cupping his jaw and pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, birthday boy,” he whispers, then climbs through the window and back into his room.
Jack knows his face must be scarlet, but he doesn’t think he cares. It’s his birthday tomorrow, after all.