Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jack is forced to open his bloodshot eyes as the light peeking through the narrow fissures in the blinds becomes too much to sleep through. His eyes, usually a deep, vibrant brown, appear dull and glossed over. They sting from the tears that had filled them the night before. His body aches and his mind feels hungover, though he hasn’t had an ounce of alcohol in a week.  

It’s been a week.

Sluggishly, Jack swings his legs, one after the other, over the side of their bed. He throws the heavy covers to the side and places his head in his hands. Jack releases a sigh he hopes will relieve tension in his rigid muscles, but he has no such luck.

Jack considers looking over his shoulder, looking for the familiar face of the man he shared this bed with. Jack contemplates checking, but he knows the glance would be full of sorrow and regret that surrounds every thought of him.

For the first time in a week, Jack didn’t check.

This was no small victory, but looking at the broken boy sitting on the edge of their king bed, no one would be able to tell. Jack’s back cries out in pain as he stands from his hunched over position; a position that has come to embody and mirror how his mind feels. The need to check the other side of the bed becomes the forefront desire in his mind, but he strains to control the impulse. Jack makes his way to the door, opening it.

He pauses in the doorway.

Jack looks back over his shoulder and his devoid eyes search for the man he once loved.

He isn’t surprised with the outcome.

Although, the pang in his chest hurt like a bullet all the same.

Davey is over. Davey is gone.

Every morning Jack is met with the unsettling notion that he is completely alone. He walks the one small hall of their apartment, the floor creaking underneath his feet with every step. The hollow sounds remind him that he is the only one making them. His head becomes the loudest element of their house, reminding him that Davey’s laugh was no longer there to fill that void. Jack walks past the kitchen, part of him still hoping that Davey will be there making breakfast for the two of them. The scene of the kitchen remains untouched. There is a mess of plates and leftovers, but Jack can’t get himself to clean it up. The silence in the kitchen is deafening.

Was Davey feeling this too?

Jack’s feet drag along the hardwood floors as he finds his way to the couch. His laptop is thrown to the side, half open but the battery dead. Sheet music is strewn out across the small coffee table, but it hasn’t been touched since being set out. The sight of these two things places another weight on his shoulders. He wonders when these weights are going to overpower him for good.

It’s impossible Davey’s feeling this way, he thought.

Davey has all he ever wanted: his dream job, a place in the city, his own office, and a life without Jack dragging him down. Davey had made it clear that his life was better without Jack, even if he’d never said it out loud. Jack has always believed that actions speak louder than words.

The thought of food crosses Jack’s mind, but it’s dismissed when his stomach doesn’t cry out in hunger. Jack hasn’t eaten regularly, he hasn’t felt the need. He hasn’t felt the need to do much of anything, recently. The most important person in his life didn’t think he was enough, so maybe it’s true. If he’s not worth Davey’s time, then whose time is he worth?

Jack spends most of the time searching for answers. He replays moments from the past five years in his head, wondering what would have happened if he’d done something different, said something different. Jack can feel the what-ifs eating away at his chest. What if he’d apologized faster? What if he’d been more caring? What if he’d never met David Jacobs at all? What if the tall boy with the infectious laugh and mesmerizing hazel eyes had never walked into his life?

These are the thoughts that kill. These are the thoughts that leave him staring at nothing but a blank wall for hours.

The blue wall in front of him hasn’t always been bare; it was once filled with things Jack would describe as happy. It was once filled with memories that caused his heart to flutter and made the corners of his mouth tug up into a smile. He could still imagine the layout. The left top corner held pictures of their dating years. Towards the right side hung all of their achievements, arranged to show what was most important them. And in the middle, the area that was Jack’s favorite, held a collage of their wedding photos. Their wedding was the best day of Jack’s life, but pictures that were once bright, vibrant, and full of joyous emotions are replaced with pictures that appear so dull, they are almost black and white.

Jack couldn’t handle the memories being a constant reminder of all he’s lost. He took them down after the second night he spent alone.

Why did Davey get to decide this was over?

Jack didn’t get a say, yet he was the one left with the scars that he did nothing to earn. Every line of the note Davey left him lashed a new wound into Jack’s back. Every promise Davey had made him left fatal marks on his heart.

What about Davey?

Did he have these similar scars?

Jack picks up the neatly folded piece of paper that stood out from the rest chaotic sheet music. He’d wanted to crumple it up and burn it, but a roadblock stood in his way. This was Jack’s last piece of David. This was Jack’s last sliver of sanity.

He unfolds it, taking in the calculated calligraphy that Davey had left him. Everything about the note is perfect; from the way Jack’s name was written on the top, to the way Davey signed it on the bottom. It was poetic, but devastating. The words enchanted Jack, but broke him at the same time.

Davey has always had a way with words.

What Jack would give for one more day, one more chance to prove to Davey that this could work. He wanted one more opportunity to show Davey that he was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened in their lives.

But Jack knew this was just wishful thinking.

Jack’s eyes wandered around the room, catching sight of the door that separated him from Davey’s office.

Davey had wanted his own office more than anything. When they moved in they made sure there was a room for one. It got to a point Jack wouldn’t even look at a place if there wasn’t an office, Jack wanted to make sure that Davey was happy.

Jack hasn’t entered that room since he left.

As if a ghost, Jack raises himself to his feet and slowly drags himself to the doorway.

It is time to face this.

Upon opening the door, everything appears untouched. Jack hadn’t spent much time in this room: it is Davey’s area and he respects that. The drawers to his desk are shut and the bookshelves that lined either side of the small room are neat and organized. A thin sheet of dust coats everything in the room, cobwebs beginning to form in the crevices of the office. The sun breaks through the windows illuminating the desk Jack had seen Davey work at plenty of times.

The light glimmers off an object on the desk.

Picking up the quarter-sized item, tears pull at the corners of his eyes.

Jack turns the ring over in his hands a few times, not being able to wrap his hand around the idea of what he’s holding.

A tear slips down his cheek as he inspects the wedding band. It's smooth between his fingers. Jack notices the warn-down interior; almost as if Davey had been removing it from his finger often. The thought causes Jack’s throat to drop into his stomach. He doesn’t want to accept it.

Davey left him with nothing, nothing but a promise of forever that he would never be able to keep.

Most of Jack’s time is spent sitting at the piano in the window. He tries to play as he used to, but the notes don’t seem to flow when he’s not there. Staring out the window, he admires the world around him. He admires that despite the shit that goes on every day, the Earth continues to spin.

It’s a selfish thought, but he gets upset when people walk past and laugh. No, they’re not laughing at him, but he doesn’t understand how people can be happy when he’s so sad. It’s not like they know what happened, but it still feels cruel.

Time passes slower when David isn’t around; minutes feel like hours and hours feel like days. The lights in the apartment are dimmer and every sound echoes as if the emptiness of the space is mocking him.

Davey has moved on, Jack is stuck.

Davey has moved on.

Jack is still hurting.

Chapter Text

The bell on the heavy wooden door jingled as David Jacobs walked into the small shop. The smell of paper and stale air filled his senses and he was met with rows and rows of books; more rows than he thought could fill a space this small. The shelves filled every wall and corner and stacked up nearly to the ceiling. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d been transferred to another dimension.

David moved further into the shop and let the serene feeling surround him. He didn’t know what exactly drew him to this particular used bookstore, but all he did know was that he needed something . David hadn’t left his apartment in three days, he was too busy working on his manuscript. The manuscript needed to get done, and that’s what mattered to him.

The monotony had gotten to him, though. His brain was dry-- he needed inspiration.

As he walked down 13th street this morning, there was something that drew him to this little hole-in-the-wall shop that he didn’t know existed until this morning. When he spotted the small store with a deep green exterior, David felt something pulling him in that direction, as if a string had been tied between the two of them.

David had always been able to find inspiration in others’ writing. Exploring bookshops and aimlessly reading books is a popular pastime of his. He wandered the dense rows of the shop, absentmindedly running his fingers along spines of random books that stuck out to him. The sensation on his fingers calmed him. Every stressful thought streamed out of his mind and a warm feeling of comfort filled his chest. David picked up a small, but dense looking book and kept walking, not thinking twice about his decision.

Reaching the end of the row, David realized that he hadn’t encountered one person yet-- the shop seemed abandoned. Turning the corner, David found the front desk that appeared to be as lonely as the rest of the space. He didn’t have a set agenda in mind, but for the second time that day, an imaginary string pulled him forward.

As he neared, he did, in fact, spot someone sitting behind the desk. The man's eyes were trained down and examining something in his lap. His head was in his hand as it was supported by his elbow that was stationed on one of his thighs. While David couldn’t see his face, he couldn’t help but notice the sharp angle of his jawline. The man had earbuds in either ear and slightly nodded along to the music playing in them.

“Excuse me,” David said, attempting to gain the attention of the man behind the counter. The worker didn’t seem to hear him though. It wasn’t until David set the book on the counter that the man jumped the slightest bit, not anticipating someone other than himself being in the shop.

The man quickly looked up at David and made fleeting eye contact, ripping his earbuds out of his ears. He frantically grabbed the book and started to type ISBN number into the computer in front of him; his hurried motions suggest an apology for not paying attention in the first place.

David, though, could not be more oblivious to the nervous state of the man; he’s too fixated on his calculated, mesmerizing dynamics that be possessed. The two may have connected eyes for less than a moment, but it was long enough for David to get lost in them. A passing stranger may have described the color as brown, but David saw much more.

The man’s eyes were not merely one shade a brown, but a masterful collage of every shade you could imagine beautifully intertwined. Something intrigued him about his eyes, something pulled him, leaving David with the sensation of wanting more. The earthy tones gave David’s normally chaotic mind a moment of bliss. He could have stared at his beautiful, chocolate eyes for hours, for the short-lived glance they shared would never be enough for him.

This is what inspiration feels like.

As the man typed in the number, he double takes at the book in his hand. “Tale of Two cities, huh? This is my favorite book,” he shook his head a bit, smiling. The dark-haired man bagged up the book for David and handed it to him. “That’ll be $4.38,”

David dug the cash out of his pocket and handed it to the man.

“So what brings you in this morning, can’t say I’ve seen your face in here before,” the man observed as he returns the change into the taller man’s hand. “Trust me, I would have remembered,” he said under his breath as he closed the cash box, almost as if he hadn’t wanted David to hear it.

David did hear though, and blushed at the comment. “I don’t know, maybe it’s fate,”

Both men seem taken aback by his comment, for it came off much flirtier than David originally intended. A silence fell over the two, but David outstretching his hand served as a peace omen after the previous remark.

“I’m David Jacobs,”

The man took David’s hand.

“Jack Kelly,”

Jack.

Simple, yet extremely intriguing.

David thought he was captivated by Jack’s eyes, but his smile may take the cake. Not a tooth was out of place and they seemed to reflect the bright shade of white. A quirky dimple emerged on the right side of his cheek. Yet another feature he could stare at for hours.

“So Jacobs,” Jack leaned nonchalantly on the side of the enclosed desk area, crossing his arms in the process. “What makes you think it’s fate?” His eyebrow raised in question. David didn’t want to admit it, but since approaching the counter the color of his cheeks had grown warmer by a few shades.

“Well,” David started, clearing his throat. “I’ve never seen this place before, but this morning it stuck out, and I just had to come in,”

Jack nodded, accepting his answer. “Have you read it before?”

“Pardon?”

“Tale of Two Cities, you know, the book you just bought,”

David glimpsed down at the plastic bag in his hand as if to remind himself of the purchase he just made. “Uh, no. To be honest with you, I didn’t even look at the title until I got up here to you. I just grabbed it off the shelf ‘cause it felt right,”

“Huh,” Jack remarked. “Fate you say?”

At that, David’s phone rang in his pocket. He inwardly sighed and pulled out the small device that interrupted his conversation. His demeanor changed as he realized it was his agent calling. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta take this,” David apologized and Jack nodded in response, searching for something to look busy with.

David had forgotten about a meeting.

He had holed himself up in his apartment for so long he lost track of the days.

The meeting was in 10 minutes and he was surely going to be late.

“It was nice meeting you, but I really have to go,” David explained. He already had his foot halfway out the door when Jack called out for him.

“David! Wait up,” Jack caught up to him, letting out a heavy breath. “Take this, let’s get coffee some time?”

“I’d love that,” David answered taking the slip of paper with Jack’s number scribbled across it. A crooked grin painted his face as he exited the shop.

David started down the street, his pace quickening as his mind was caught on two separate tracks. One half was hoping, praying, that his tardiness to the meeting would be excused. He couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten this; it was so important to get your foot in the door in a business like this.

The other half was still stuck on the brown eyes; he could see them so vividly in his mind. Jack Kelly took his breath away in that small shop on 13th leaving his normally one track mind split in two.

It’s safe to say that the dark-haired boy with mesmerizing eyes didn’t leave the mind of David Jacobs.

Chapter Text

Enough is enough.

At least, that’s what Jack’s been telling himself over and over.

Upon coming home this fall, the evidence had been there, but Jack had dismissed it not wanting to connect the dots that were placed neatly before him. He’d wanted to believe that everything was fine between them; that they were still the young, madly in love couple they were when they first met.

These clues started to stack up, though.

The scent of strong perfume in their bed.

Socks that hadn’t belonged to either of them.

A smudge of mascara in the bathroom sink.

Jack was willing to overlook these things, willing to overlook them if it meant that he and Davey stayed together.

Things were fine, for a while.

Then Jack noticed Davey hadn’t been wearing his ring all the time. Each time that Jack would remind him, Davey would just play it off as a forgetful mistake. He’d claim that it bothered him when he was typing and he’d forgotten to put it back on.

That’s funny, Jack thought. It had only bothered his typing recently.

The ring became the final straw for Jack.

Jack shifts in his seat, not being able to find a comfortable position. His forehead holds a sheer layer of sweat and his forearms itch under his long-sleeved shirt. Bringing a hand up to his mouth, he chews on what is left of his blunt fingernails. His eyes dart around their familiar living room, attempting to collect his thoughts for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Davey has been at the office since this morning, he left before Jack had woken up. Davey left him a scrawled out note, though. The note said he’d be home around eight, that he had meetings all day he couldn’t miss.

This conversation should be easy, Jack thought. It should be no problem, right?

But it is a problem. How does one accuse their spouse of cheating? Why should it even come to this point?

Jack has lots of questions and next to no answers, he’s hoping Davey can supply those.

But even that hope seems like a longshot.

Jack jolts up when he hears the familiar sound of Davey’s old car rumble into the driveway. Without thinking about it, Jack sits up straighter and appears more rigid in his manner. His mind starts racing, every word, every sentence, every letter he practiced over and over seemed to flee his mind. Thoughts of backing out take over, but Jack doesn’t let them win. He does his best to silence his chaotic mind.

The loud front door squeaks as Davey walks in, looking exhausted. His eyes have deep purple bags under them and his shoulders are slightly rounded over on the top. His glasses are falling near the end of his nose and the moment he drops his bag, he moves to push them back up.

Jack used to find that adorable.

“Hey, Jackie,” Davey, half-heartedly, greets him. He makes minimal eye contact as he scoots his way through the living room.

Davey’s not stupid, and Jack knows this. He knows that Jack knows, he just has to.

“Hey babe, I actually wanted to talk to you,” Jack says, focusing on keeping his voice steady. He’s had to do this hundred of times for auditions. If he can transform into any role when it comes to his job, what can be so hard about doing acting strong right now?

Davey looks at Jack, but Jack can’t read his expression. Part of Davey’s face tells him to drop it, to ignore the subject until later, but the other part has a softer, almost apologetic look. As if he’s sorry.

Jack wishes sorry could fix this mess.

Even if Jack couldn’t read Davey, Davey sure as hell could read Jack; he always has. He moved over to the couch near Jack and sits down. They are near each other, but a few feet divide the two. To Jack, the space felt like the grand canyon.

Davey’s eyes stay far away from Jack’s. “Yeah, what’s up?”

I know you’ve been cheating.

I know you don’t care.

I know you don’t love me anymore.

How does one do this?

“I know,” Jack says simply.

Those words shouldn’t hold weight, but they do. They hold the weight of every fight, every cruel word, ever mile separating the two men. The weight is something that’s been building, something that’s been adding to both of their shoulders for years now. Too bad it’s tonight the suspensions decide to snap.

Jack doesn’t need to tell Davey what he knows, David is well aware of what those two simple words mean.

“What do you mean?” Davey asks.

Jack let out a breath that sounds more like a shaky laugh. Here’s Davy, taking the responsibility off of his own shoulders and placing it on Jack’s. He’s done this since the day they met, and Jack is sick of it.

Jack stands up from his spot, not being able to handle inferiority of sitting anymore. “You know exactly what I mean Davey. You don’t get to play the clueless card on me,” Jack didn’t mean to raise his voice, but the way Davey flinches at his own name proves otherwise.

Davey doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice,” Jack starts again, not being able to handle the silence from his husband. “The extra socks, the mascara smudge, the perfume… not to mention the ring! Davey, I’m not stupid and neither are you, I can connect the dots here,”

Hot tears brim the edges of Jack’s eyes causing the scene around him to be blurry. His field of vision becomes nothing more than blobs of color, everything blurring together simply into beautiful colors.

Then he looks to Davey.

Everything is blurry except for Davey. He’s the only thing that’s ever been clear to Jack, he’s the only thing that’s ever made sense. Ever since the day they met, Davey being in Jack's life made more sense than anything ever had. Being with him made Jack feel like he was put on this earth to be with Davey.

But the look he’s giving Jack doesn’t make sense.

He didn’t know exactly what he was expecting from him, but the angry, hard-eyed look was not it. Davey looks mad, as if he couldn’t believe that Jack brought this up. Jack outright accuses him of an act he knows he committed, and Davey decides to outright deny it.

“Jack, I think you’re being a little too dram-”

“Dramatic? I’m being dramatic? My husband sleeps with another person while I’m not here and I’m not allowed to be dramatic?”

A silence settles over the two, the room fills with nothing more than the hum of the washer and dryer in the next room mixed with Jack’s heavy breathing.

Jack wants to give in, to believe that everything is going to be okay, that they could get through this. He wants to go back ten minutes and never start the conversation. He wants to go back to the relationship they had years ago, he wants to apologize and start over.

But the only thing standing in the way of that is a single, underlying thought that had been jumbled in Jack’s brain for weeks.

He doesn’t love you anymore.

Jack takes a deep breath. “I just need you to tell me the truth,” his voice is steady. “I just need you to be honest for five seconds,”

Davey doesn’t look up from his hands.

More silence.

His lips part as he prepares to talk.

“I’m sorry,”

Davey’s eyes stay trained down, not making contact with Jack’s.

A sob escapes Jack’s throat. His knees want to buckle but he won’t let them.

“You break my heart and all you can say is sorry?”

“I’m not sure what else to say,”

“I don’t know, maybe, admitting to what you did? Maybe, admitting how awful of a person you are?” Jack’s throat burns and his whole body shakes. What did he expect from this? Sorry was better than nothing, he supposes. But that band-aid still doesn’t fix the bullet hole that Davey shot through Jack’s heart.

Davey stands up and for the first time tonight, his hazel eyes meet Jack’s.

Jack takes a step back in surprise, for the eyes he sees do not belong to the man he fell in love with. These eyes are out to kill and their deep stare cuts like daggers through Jack’s skin. Davey’s beautiful hazel eyes have been replaced with something more sinister, eyes that didn’t belong to the man he married.

“Who are you anymore?” Jack asks, incredulously.

Davey scoffs. “Who am I? Who are you? You’re the one who went away for five months to go be in that mediocre show out in the cornfields,”

If Davey regrets his words, he doesn’t show it. His hands stay clenched at his sides and his stare doesn’t break with Jack’s.

“Really?” Jack lets a tear slip. “You’re going to blame this on me and my career,”

“I’m not the one who left,”

Jack doesn’t want to believe what he’s hearing. He wants to believe that this is the man he married but he can’t help but feel this person in front of him is an imposter. How can one go from so loving to so cold in such a small amount of time?

Maybe it was Jack’s fault.

At that moment, memories of the past few years flash before Jack’s eyes, as if his brain knows this is the end. He remembers the young people they once were, the ones filled with passion and desire linked to every action. Every kiss, every touch, treated like their last. Flashbacks to the stupid fights and to the jokes they shared stream through his brain as if on a movie reel. He remembered everything in that instant, too bad memories are the worst form of torture.

“You’re not the same person I married,” Jack breathes.

Davey lets out a shaky laugh. “Don’t act like you didn’t change,” he points a finger at Jack. “I never let my career run my life, you’re so set on chasing this impossible dream of broadway that you let it blind you. For fucks sake you went to small town Wisconsin for five months to put on a stupid musical. You chose your career over me long ago,”

Jack cannot believe what Davey is saying.

He has always been a backseat to Davey’s career and both of them know it.

“You’re impossible,” Jack yells. “You are never around because you’re constantly in meetings or attending stupid, pretentious parties-”

“I don’t go to that many parties,” Davey defended.

“Oh yeah? Then what are you doing? Screwing your boss?”

Silence.

Silence for so long it makes Jack want to scream. He’d gotten it right, he had no intention of guessing right, but he did nonetheless.

“I’m going to bed,” Jack’s breathing picks up, the panic of the situation set in. He needs out now, and going to sleep is the only way he can see past his position. Davey’s eyes soften for the first time tonight at the sight of Jack’s chest heaving up and down. The gesture is too little too late, though.

“Jackie,” Davey mumbles as he passes, but Jack doesn’t turn back as he shakily makes his way to their bedroom. He shuts the door behind him sending Davey a message: don’t follow me.

And he doesn’t.

Jack crawls into bed, trying not to wonder what Davey is thinking.

His mind turns like a wheel as the empty space beside him starts to feel more like a black hole. Closing the door to their bedroom was cruel, but Jack can’t seem to find the energy to care.

His breathing finally mellows, but his head doesn’t.

Jack stares at the ceiling for hours before he can even think about sleeping, while Davey has been passed out on the couch long before Jack.

Jack couldn’t help but feel betrayed by Davey. He wants nothing more than to view the man he loves as an enemy, but Jack can’t seem to place that title. The betrayal hurts all the same.

Too bad the saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies, it always comes from the people you’re closest too.

Davey is simultaneously Jack’s greatest strength and biggest liability. A combination he swears is going to be the death of him.