Work Text:
Jack leaned against the railing that ran along the rooftop of the lodging house. A small sketchbook sat in his lap, open to a clean page. He tapped a short, dull pencil against the page, looking for some kind of inspiration to sketch. The book had been a little gift to himself that Jack had bought at the suggestion of several of his friends. He sighed with some frustration and closed the book. He couldn’t find anything that he felt the desire to draw.
“Jack? Hey, Jack!” a voice shouted from the fire escape. Jack knew the voice immediately. Davey. Sure enough, Davey climbed the short ladder that lead to the rooftop, leaning his crossed arms on the wall. He smiled brightly. “Crutchie said you’d be up here,” he said. Jack gave a small smile, gesturing for Davey to come up on the roof.
“Come, enter my rooftop penthouse,” Jack said with an air of mock pretentiousness. Davey crossed the roof and sat cross-legged next to Jack. He glanced down at the sketchbook.
“Come up here to find inspiration?” he asked. Jack shrugged.
“Yeah, but I ain’t findin’ anythin’.” Davey frowned, furrowing his brow.
“It’s so nice up here, though…” he trailed off, looking out across the rooftop. The sun was just beginning to dip below the cityline. “The view is amazing.” He gave Jack a sideways glance. “I can see why you like coming up here, even if it’s not to draw.” With that, he turned back to look out over the city again.
But while he talked, Jack was looking at Davey. He opened the sketchbook and turned back to the fresh page. He made a sound of acknowledgement as he put pencil to paper. He sketched out Davey’s profile, paying close attention to the shape of his face and the shadows produced from his hat over his eyes as the sun continued to set. He sketched Davey’s hands, folded casually in his lap and a little smudged with newspaper ink that just wouldn’t wash away. He sketched Davey’s eyes, or at least the one he could see from the side, smudging the graphite with his thumb to attempt the right mix of shades in Davey’s eyes.
As Jack finished the last line on his drawing, he paused to look at it before glancing up to compare it to the actual thing. What he was not expecting was for Davey to be looking directly at him, eyes slightly wide. Jack stared back, challenging. It was Davey who looked away first. He reached towards the sketchbook, carefully.
“Can I?” he asked hesitantly. Jack, after a moment of thought, shrugged nonchalantly and handed the sketchbook over. Davey looked over the careful drawings. “These are really good,” he breathed. He flipped a page, glancing over at Jack to see his reaction. Jack gave a small smile, gesturing that it was alright for Davey to continue looking. He crossed his arms and leaned back, watching Davey look at his drawings.
Most of the pages were filled with landscapes in pencil or in charcoal, one landscape was painted meticulously. The few other pages had somewhat rough sketches of figures, mostly Jack’s friends. There was one of Crutchie smiling and tipping his hat. One of Specs with his glasses on his head. One of Romeo singing. But of all the figure drawings, most of them were of Davey. Doing various things, but generally smiling or sitting quietly.
Davey came to one particular drawing of himself, he guessed it had to be from a few days ago. Jack and Davey had gone to watch one of Medda’s shows, and they sat in the wings. In the picture, Davey leaned against a set piece, looking out onto the stage with a wide grin.
“These are all amazing, Jack,” Davey said, clearly impressed. Jack chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. “No, really,” Davey insisted, “These should be hanging up in a museum somewhere.” Jack shook his head.
“Nah, it’s just a buncha scribbles. Hardly museum quality,” he said with a shrug. He held his hand out for the sketchbook. Davey put it back in Jack’s outstretched hand. Jack shut the book and placed it on the ground next to him. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of them looking at the other one. After a moment, though, Davey spoke up.
“How come you drew so many of me? I mean, they’re amazing drawings, but why me?” he asked, genuinely curious. Jack shrugged, busying himself with picking pebbles out of the rough concrete floor.
“I dunno, I guess ‘cause I’s around ya a lot, and, uh, I like drawin’ my friends,” he explained lamely. He finally picked his head up to look at Davey with a small smile. “It helps that you’s pretty interestin’ to draw.” Now it was Davey’s turn to look at the ground. Jack’s smile fell, and he rubbed the back of his head. “I should probably go…it’s gettin’ late,” he said quietly. He started to climb to his feet, but Davey put a hand on his arm. Jack looked down at him, confused.
Davey’s eyes flickered over Jack’s face, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leaned over and gave Jack a quick kiss on the cheek, pulling away as quickly as he had leaned in. Jack could feel the blush creeping up in his cheeks as Davey pulled himself to his feet.
“I’ll…see you tomorrow, Jack,” he mumbled, turning to walk over to the fire escape. He climbed down the ladder, pausing to glance up at Jack nervously. Jack gave Davey a bright smile and a little wave. Davey grinned, ducking his head to climb down the rest of the fire escape. Jack stay sitting on the roof for a few more minutes, until the sun completely set. Eventually, he picked himself up and picked up his sketchbook from the ground. He crossed the rooftop, smiling to himself all the way back into the lodging house.