JackCrutchie Oneshots

Don't Tell Anyone I Cried

A/N: this is super short and I haven't been active so I apologize! I'm looking to take prompts if anyone has any requests :) thanks for reading!

Jack Kelly did not cry.

Never, really. Not often.

He wasn't above crying, that wasn't it. When he got upset by something it was more of a dryness that he could control. 

However, Jack did have a guilty pleasure that could bring him to tears quite often. 

Not that anyone but Crutchie knew about it; Racetrack would never let him hear the end of it and David would most definitely try to get him into some intellectual conversation that would hurt his head. 

It wasn't that Jack read books, that's not what they would laugh at. That would be silly.
It was the fact that he would cry at them.

Jack was lying in bed, the covers pulled to his chest and a book gripped tightly against his fingers. His grip was causing creases to form on the pages, though he couldn't find it in him to care.

Tears dripped slowly down from his eyes, clouding up the warm tones of brown, somehow making them look like a bubbling cola. His tears spilled over the edges of the whites of his eyes, making a mess the pages that skimmed them. 

Setting the book down, Jack turned his body towards Crutchie, who was soundly sleeping under the covers next to him. A twinge the guilt went through his heart, but he reached over and shook Crutchie gently.

"Baby?" His voice was slightly croaky, caught in his throat. His eyes were red, obvious that he had been crying; this was complimented by his slightly runny nose. 

Crutchie groaned lowly, eyes opening up slowly until they were staring back up at Jack, a smile on his lips.  He rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Hey, Jacky-" he tilted his head, sitting up slightly  when he saw that something was wrong. Jack could have tried to lie, but the evidence was all over his face; literally, as the tear tracks could have been seen from twenty feet away. "Are you okay, Jacky? Why are you crying?" 

"Sweetheart-" Jack chuckled, reaching for Crutchie's hand and squeezing it. "I'm okay, really." He bit his bottom lip hard, not caring that a few more tears slipped from his eyes, "I could just really use a hug from my baby."

Crutchie felt his ears redden, nodding and carefully scooting closer to Jack. "Of course, Jacky, I always want to hug you." He giggled, Jack wrapping his arms around him tightly. It was safe and comforting, Jacks head under his chin and leaning into his chest.

He allowed himself to rub his hands over Crutchie's shoulders and his back, his fingers tracing down his spine. His skin was soft and his body curved into his own like it was meant to.
"What happened?" He looked down at Jack and slid his fingers in his hair, something that often relaxed Jack. "Was it a book again?"

It almost made Jack laugh if he hadn't been so shaky moments before. This wasn't the first time it had happened, it wasn't often, but Jack had woken him before with woes over his current readings.

"Yeah," he answered simply, taking a breath, "the ending really got to me this time. Sorry to wake you, sweetheart." He pressed his lips to the corner of his mouth.

Crutchie wiped at the leftover tears on Jacks face, shaking his head. "Jacky, you can wake me up whenever you need. I've done the same to you." He thought back on the times he had woken Jack up for things as simple as feelings his hand move slightly from his own. 

"I hate some authors, baby," Jack shook his head with a chuckle, his head buried further in Crutchie's chest. "It's like everything is fine only for the last page to ruin it all," he scoffed, Crutchie thinking it was the cutest thing in the world how appalled he sounded. "I can't stand it."

Crutchie nodded in understanding. "I'll write them a letter to complain."

Jack did laugh out loud, thinking it was pretty cute that Crutchie would even offer to do so, "maybe a different time. As much as I hate endings, I can't help but keep reading."

Crutchie grinned, tightening his hold on Jack, "Do you wanna talk about it."

He felt Jack deeply sigh against his chest, "it's alright. Later, I will." He pressed a kiss against Crutchie's collarbone. 

His face red now, Crutchie's breath hitched in his throat, "okay, Jack."

They sat like that for a long time, close to each other and searching for comfort. Jack fell asleep not long after that, his breath even and matching Crutchie's. A soft smile was on his lips, content and a mind no longer upset over the writings of an author. These were moments Crutchie liked the most; the ones Jack let down his cocky facade and let himself be vulnerable, let himself be held by Crutchie, and verbally tell him what he needed.

It didn't take long for Crutchie to fall asleep as well, fingers still lightly moving against Jacks scalp, only stilling when his sleep became deep. They slept well.

All was well.