Jack x Crutchie Oneshots (Newsies)

Sunset Over Santa Fe

A/N: Hello! Hope you're having a nice day. TW: This story contains a lot of internalized period typical homophobia so read at your own risk and know that you're supported and valid no matter who you love :)

Jack PoV:

It was beautiful. Sunsets in New York were never this beautiful. Sure, on a good day with no clouds and if the air was just right, the sunsets in the penthouse could be breathtaking. But this sunset? It was a whole other ballpark. The reds and blues and pinks and oranges blended so perfectly and the desert air was fresh and clean.

"Woah, when you said the sunsets in Santa Fe would be pretty, I couldn't have pictured it looking this amazin'." Crutchie said as he sat next to Jack.

Jack nodded, turning to face his companion. He had changed so much since New york. His leg was healed and his scars were gone. His face and clothes were crisp and clean, but it was still the Crutchie Jack knew and loved.

While Jack occasionally missed their old life, the thoughts were always few and far between.

Jack wrapped his arms around Crutchie, pulling him close. The view from the roof of their little clay house was everything Jack had ever dreamed of.

He turned towards the blond boy next to him, noting how the light reflected in his hazel eyes perfectly.

As beautiful as the sunset was, Jack would much rather look at Crutchie.

Crutchie linked hands with Jack, flashing his brilliant smile that could outshine the sun.

"Is it everything you hoped it would be? Santa Fe?" Crutchue asked.

Jack smiled, placing a gentle hand on the shorter boy's cheek.

"It's better." He breathed, leaning in. Crutchie's eyes fluttered closed just as their lips were inches apart—

Jack shot up, gasping. He clutched his shirt, looking around wildly. Reality hit him like a train as he looked around the rooftop. When his eyes landed on Crutchie who was fast asleep on his side of the penthouse, shame clawed its way up Jack's throat.

Disgusting, queer, illegal, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

Jack threw off his blanket, stumbling blindly towards the edge of the roof. He gripped the railing, his heart racing.

What was wrong with him? How could he have dreamed about that? If he hadn't woken up would he and Crutchie have kissed...? Oh God.

Jack curled up into a ball, grabbing his sketchbook from where he had placed it. With trembling fingers he began to draw, blinking tears out of his eyes.

It was bad enough that he had these illegal thoughts on occasion, but to go so far as to dream about it? He was disgusted with himself.

Jack fumbled with his pencil, producing shaky lines in the dim light. There was no moon that night and the penthouse felt dark and cold. He finally felt like he was starting to calm down a bit, until he looked down at his drawing.

Jack gasped, involuntarily throwing his sketchbook across the roof. He clasped a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs.

He had drawn Crutchie. He hadn't even been thinking and he had drawn Crutchie. He was going to jail. He deserved to go to jail.

Jack's heart pounded as his mind whirled. How did this happen? He thought this had gone away. Thought he had pushed these thoughts so deep into the depths of his mind that they could never resurface. How wrong he had been.

"Jack?" A tired voice murmured, cutting off Jack's spiraling thoughts.

Jack's head shot up, locking eyes with Crutchie who was sitting up and blinking sleepily.