JackCrutchie Random Thing

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Just as Crutchie very carefully made it down the last step of the school's front staircase, Jack came bursting out of the doors and went down them two at a time, skipping the last three and landing neatly on his feet beside Crutchie.

"Damn you, Jack," Crutchie scoffed, punching Jack in the arm. "Showoff."

"Aw, you love me," he said nonchalantly, taking Crutchie's bag and slinging it on his unoccupied shoulder.

Normally, Crutchie would've complained, but the relief was welcome today. His leg was sore and being off-balance from carrying a backpack didn't help.

"Thanks, Jacky."

"No problem, babe." He dropped a light kiss to the top of Crutchie's wayward hair and wrapped an arm around his waist. "You need a lift home?"

"I don't know, everyone says don't get in the car with flirty strangers," he teased. "You might take advantage of me."

Jack snorted a laugh, walking toward his beat-up truck. "Please. Not in the truck I wouldn't."

"What about the truck bed?"

"Whole 'nother story."

Crutchie laughed and let Jack help him up into the passenger seat, setting both backpacks at his feet. Jack walked around and swung himself up into the driver's side, turning the key.

The engine sputtered for a moment before turning over and starting. Jack let out an audible sigh of relief.

"May be time to get this ol' thing checked out," he laughed. "It's older than we are."

Crutchie simply hummed in response, flipping through the radio stations until he found one he liked.

"Can I steal you away for a couple hours today, or is the parental patrol making you come straight home?" Jack asked, backing out of the parking lot carefully.

"Home," Crutchie said sadly, "Chores and homework and all that."

"Things gettin' any better at home?"

"No," he sighed. "They still aren't thrilled about the idea of me going to school for theatre, and the whole 'bisexual' fiasco is a taboo still."

"Shit, baby, I'm sorry," Jack grimaced. "Did they at least agree to let you go see that therapist you were telling me about?"

"Nope. They think depression can be overcome with more sunshine and less time spent with you."

"Ouch. That bites."

"Yeah."

".... You have really shitty parents."

Crutchie shrugged. "They're old-fashioned and... They just don't want a son like me, I guess."

"Screw that. Come live with me and the boys. I'll be your mom and your dad. Your... Dom." Jack's eyes widened as Crutchie began to laugh. "Wait, no! Not what I meant! Shit!"

Crutchie was still laughing, so hard that he was no longer sure if he'd be able to breathe. Jack was shaking his head now, blushing furiously.

"Didn't know y-you were into that," Crutchie giggled, overcome again.

"Shut up, you brat," Jack exclaimed with a laugh, mumbling something about 'trying to do something nice.'

"W-whatever you say," Crutchie said, starting to get himself under control, "... Daddy."

Jack made a noise somewhere between a gasp and choking, swerving the car up onto the curb with a string of swear words. He turned sharply into the nearest parking lot and put the car into park.

"Don't say that," Jack sighed. "Jesus Christ. I almost crashed the car."

"I don't think Jesus can help you now, Kelly."

"Oh my god," Jack sighed again, flushing. "I hate you."

"No you don't. I don't think you'd have offered to be my Dom if you hated me." That was a cheap shot, maybe, but a flustered Jack was rare. Crutchie was going to take advantage.

Jack sputtered a non-response and started the car back up. "Great. Just great. I'm never gonna live this down, am I?"

"Nope."

"In all seriousness, though," Jack added after a moment, glancing over at the passenger seat, "If it ever becomes too much, let me know. I'll come get you out."

"My knight in shining armor."

Jack parked on the curb outside Crutchie's house. "Am I picking you up tomorrow morning?"

Crutchie leaned over and kissed Jack gently, just a whisper of a kiss really, one hand on his cheek. "Please."

"Alrighty. Goodbye, baby." As Crutchie made to leave, Jack grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back for another kiss.

And if Crutchie's kiss was a whisper, Jack's was a scream.

"I'll be thinking about you," Jack whispered, voice dropping to a low growl.

Crutchie, now red-faced and flustered, stepped out of the car and hurried up his front walk, attempting to compose himself.

Damn that Jack Kelly.

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