Living

Chapter 32: The Gift to the Giver

I might as well update this since I'm not writing it rn lol

WARNING: the b-word is in use, Spot and York DON'T key a car

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Jack was a giver.

He gave all of his attention to something and was committed to the end—unless it's for the greater good (like cuddles with Davey, or saving the entire world). Many people have recognized he was a giver, and some have used that to their advantage. Most, though, have given back as much as they could.

Which is why Davey is currently in Wal-Mart with Race and Crutchie.

They knew him best. It would've been decidedly better to ask Blink to come, but he was taking Mush on a date later, and no one wanted to disturb that (they really needed it). However, that didn't mean Race and Crutchie were incompetent.

"Shouldn't you know all this stuff?" Race scratched his head tiredly, yawning. "I's just sayin'...you and Jack is basically 'tached by the hip."

Davey hummed and looked from aisle to aisle, searching for the sodas. "Yes, but if I came here by myself, I'd get too anxious to think straight then everything would be messed up."

Crutchie nodded, texting Finch. "And that's why Jack is hangin' with Al and El tonight?"

"And that's why Jack is hangin' with Al and El tonight."

"I's assumin' Crutch is here to encourage you and I's here to yell at you when you do somethin' stupid", Race says, stretching. Davey nods, ignoring him.

He was on a mission. If this wasn't perfect, Jack would be upset and maybe heartbroken—since Davey is his boyfriend, he should know everything about him (is what he told himself)—and Davey couldn't have that. Jack needed something given to him.

"I'm glad you know his love language", Crutchie commented, turning his phone off with a smile. "That's, like, real important."

Davey furrowed his brows. "What's that?"

"It's how you like to show or receive love", Race explained, seeming a little more awake. "Like, I like to show love by doin' small things for my boyfriend, and recievin' his love with physical touch. Spot's a little across the board."

"Awww", Crutchie muses, finding this news a little shocking. "How does he show physical touch?"

"He bites."

"What?"

"I said what I said."

Davey chuckles and shakes his head. "So Jack's love language is?"

"Acts of service and physical touch", Crutchie answers, nodding like he was ticking off a list. "That's why his Newsie name should've been 'Giver.'"

"Got it", Davey mumbles, now looking around the general store worriedly. "Which adds to the fire."

"You know he'd be just fine if you got him a pack of Coke and cuddles, right?"

"Never say 'pack of Coke' again."

"Sorry. Cluster of Coke."

"Somehow worse."

"Guys", Davey whispers, pointing down the soda aisle. "Look."

There was no more Coca Cola. No original, no diet, sure as hell no new. There was none. Zip. Zero. Zilch.

Now, it was okay to panic.

"Just get him a Dr. Pepper", Race shrugged, walking down the row of sugary drinks.

"Jack would kill you and your family if you gave him a Dr. Pepper", Crutchie shakes his head, remembering the time someone gave him the drink. The manger was cursed out, Jack was banned from the restaurant, and Crutchie was laughing all the way home. Needless to say, Jack has yet to go back to an Olive Garden. "He hates it."