#jack kelly deserves to be a cowboy in more fics

[kellyscowboy]

꒰✧ᯇ✦꒱ DON'T BE SORRY FOR LEAVING AND GROWING OLD || ch. 3

ᯇ summary ! ✦ Jack Kelly finally gets out of New York and makes something of himself. Though, he's never been good at goodbyes and David won't answer his letters. || read full thing on ao3 now WRITTEN FOR THE NEWSIES FIC EXCHANGE ᯇ warnings ! ✦ cussing & angst 396 WORDS © 2023 , 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

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Jack never got a letter back from David. It had been a year since he wrote the first letter, and he had sent many more since then.

Dear David,

My first letter might have gotten lost. Or maybe you chose not to answer it, and that’s fair. I forgot to mention that I’m married. I am. Her name is Darla. We’re not in love.

I thought I was in love with her. But she knew I wasn’t. I feel bad. I didn’t know I was hurting her.

We still live together. I love her, she loves me. But we’re not in love.

It took me a while to realize it, she realized it far sooner.

If you ever get a chance to see my paintings, you’ll know what I mean.

  Sincerely,

Your Cowboy

Dear David,

My paintings have changed a lot from when you knew me. They’ve changed a lot since I moved out here, too. I think you’d like them.

Tell the boys I’m sorry. They didn’t deserve me. I’m sorry.

You were right. I ruined myself.

  Jack Kelly

Some of his letters were pages long, others had less than five sentences. None of them ever received a response. Darla watched as he deteriorated.

His art had reached its peak. It was showcased in different countries and paintings he sold at local café’s skyrocketed in prices. After a short two years of painting, he decided he was ready to retire.

“Are you sure, Jack?” Darla asked. “Since the first day I met you, this life has been your dream. Are you really ready to give it up?”

“Darla, all this life does is remind me of the one I left behind. I just want to be done with it. It was never worth it.” Jack frowned.

At the grand opening of the Santa Fe Museum: Home of the Cowboy, Jack officially announced his retirement. The halls of the museum were filled with his art, along with works inspired by him and other small artists in their town. His last piece, his kiss goodbye to the world he had longed for, would sit in the middle of the building. It would be illuminated by lights and have a plaque naming the piece ‘an end of an era.’

Jack knew that there was no other way to end his career than with the way he started it.

[thefactsofthematter]

Hello! Could you do "I love you" prompts 6 ("On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair") and 12 ("When we lay together on the fresh spring grass") for Jack/ Davey or Race/ Albert? Thanks so much and happy Valentine's Day!

omg i’m sorry this took so long!! (as we can see from “happy valentines day” jhhbgh) i took a break from writing but i’m back babey!!!

javid; 2k; uhh ambiguous time setting? sorta modern era but maybe it’s like,, the 60s or something; no content warnings! just fluff!

i highly recommend listening to “fishin’ in the dark” while reading this— it sets the tone perfectly.

-

It’s Davey’s first summer in the country, and he’s still not sure how he feels about it.

They’d moved here in the middle of the school year, leaving behind everything he’d once known in the heart of New York City, in exchange for a new life in a tiny little town. His father had lost his job back home, and instead of seeing it as a setback, his folks had taken it as an opportunity to start over somewhere else, across the country.

It’s not all bad, Davey figures.

He’s made a lot of friends— the kids at school were incredibly inviting, though you sort of have to be when there’s only five or six people in each grade. If anything, they were entertained by Davey’s fascinating stories of the big city, and his lack of knowledge of anything farming-related. He can’t complain; at least he has friends here, he certainly didn’t have many in New York.

Manhattan also didn’t have all this fresh air and gorgeous weather. It didn’t have the wonderful house they live in now— he’d grown up in a tiny apartment with all five of them crammed into just a couple of rooms. There’s definitely much more free space around here. He’s even got his own bedroom, free from sharing with Les.

And, well, New York didn’t have Jack.

Sweet, lovely Jack, who lives just down the street. Jack, who runs around barefoot, wears a tattered old cowboy hat, sings country songs, and drives a rust-bucket truck. Jack, who’s got the smoothest southern drawl in the world, and a year-round farmer’s tan. Jack, who Davey is head over heels for.

Speak of the devil…

“Hey Davey-boy! What'cha up to?”

There’s Jack, leaning over the back fence of the Jacobs’s yard, the brim of his hat not able to shade the brightness of his smile. Davey has been pulling weeds from the garden all morning, but it’s starting to get a little too hot and sunny to keep going without collapsing from heatstroke.

“Not much of anything,” he replies, dropping his pail of dandelions into the dirt. “I’m about finished with this. What are you doing here? I thought you were working on Al’s family’s farm for the next little while.”

Jack shrugs, still grinning happily, like he hasn’t got a care in the world.

“It’s my day off. Medda wanted me home for a bit to fix some stuff up for her, but I finished it real quick, so I’ve got some free time.” He seems almost nervous as he scuffs at the dirt with his foot and adjusts his hat so Davey can see more of his face. “Say, if you’re all done here, how’d you like to hang around with me for a while? I’ve got somewhere real neat that I wanna take you, I think you’ll really like it.”

Davey raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“I don’t see why not,” he says, dusting the dirt off of his knees and picking his pail back up to toss the dandelions in the garbage bin. “I’ll let my mom know I’m going out and see if there’s anything she needs me to do first. I’ll meet you at your place in a bit?”

Jack’s smile widens, if that’s even possible.

“Sounds good! See ya in a bit, city slicker!”

And with that, he’s gone, darting back down the alley towards Medda’s place.

Davey shakes his head fondly, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

-

Twenty minutes later, they’re rolling along a gravel road in Jack’s truck. There’s mason jars of Medda’s signature sweet tea in their cup holders, and they’ve got the windows rolled down to let the breeze cool them off.

“So I’ve never been to a big city,” says Jack, breaking the easy silence they’d settled into. “Do y'all got grass there? And trees? Or is it all buildings?”

Davey can’t help but laugh. He sometimes imagines what his life would’ve been like if he’d lived here from the beginning, like Jack and all their other friends that have no idea of the hustle and bustle of New York.

“In parks, there’s trees and grass, yeah,” he replies, recalling the afternoons that he and Sarah used to drag Les over to Central Park in their rusty old wagon. “But not all over the place, the way it is here. New York is a lot of grey— the sidewalks, the buildings, even the air. It was just… dark and sad, a lot of the time. The longer I’m away from it, the less I miss it. I think I’m happier here.”

Jack’s grin is confirmation enough that Davey is, in fact, much happier here.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Jack replies, while tapping his hands absentmindedly on the steering wheel. “I ain’t ever had a friend like you before. I’m really happy you’re here.”

-

Twenty or so more minutes of driving finds them turning off the road to start down the long driveway of what looks like someone’s farm.

“Are we even allowed to be here?” asks Davey, as they roll right past an abandoned-looking house and quonset. “Who’s farm is this? Are we gonna get in trouble?”

Jack just chuckles and sips on the last of his sweet tea. There’s thankfully a few more jars of it in the backseat, courtesy of Medda, so they’ve got plenty to last the afternoon.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shaking his head. “We’re fine. This is, like, technically, sort of… my land? I used to live out here with my dad, but after he died, no one comes out here anymore. I like to come sometimes just to hang out. It’ll be mine once I’m old enough to farm it— since I can’t really do it by myself at seventeen, right? That’s why I live with Medda for now, and I work out at Al’s farm ‘cause his dad is teaching me everything I need to do. Awful nice of him, ain’t it?”

Even with such a sad topic, Jack is still smiling, like the happiness of getting to carry on his dad’s farm outweighs the sadness of losing him.

“Sure is, yeah,” says Davey, trying to reciprocate Jack’s little laugh. “I’m sorry about your dad, though. That had to be really hard.”

Jack shrugs one shoulder and seems about to reply, but he’s pulled out of the conversation as he suddenly whips the truck off the gravel road and onto a well worn trail through the brush.

“Oh, here we go!” he yells, before stepping on the gas pedal with full force. Well, that’s one way to change the topic. “Hang on, Davey-boy! It’s about to get real bumpy!”

Davey shrieks as they begin to pick up speed, practically flying down the dirt trail. He’s absolutely terrified for his life, but the way Jack is howling with excited laughter sort of makes this worth it.

“Jack Kelly!” screams Davey, not quite able to stop himself from laughing too. “You’re insane! We’re gonna die!”

Jack can’t seem to stop laughing but he pats Davey’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Just hold on!” he yells, as the truck flies over a bump and bounces as it lands. “I won’t let anything happen! You’re safe with me!”

Davey isn’t sure at what point he began to trust Jack so much, but for some reason, he believes it. He just grips the handle above the door for dear life and decides he might as well live in the moment for a bit.

He’s gonna be just fine.

-

When they finally pull up to where Jack had been trying to take them and climb out of the truck, Davey realizes that the terrifying joy-ride had totally been worth it.

It’s a clearing in the trees, a big grassy patch, with a creek running right through the middle. If he looks far enough down the rolling water, there’s a beaver dam within sight— something he’s never seen in real life before. Sunlight is streaming down in golden rays, lighting both the scenery and Jack’s tan face in the most gorgeous way.

“You like it?” asks Jack, tipping back his hat to reveal more of his face. “I ain’t ever brought anyone here. It was me and my mom’s favourite place to come hang out. We used to have picnics here all the time.”

There’s a kind of wistful look on his face, and Davey kind of really wants to kiss him. Is that weird? He’s not really sure, but it’s probably best not to overthink it.

“I love it, Jack,” says Davey, rather sure his voice is giving away just how smitten he is. “This is beautiful… and I’m happy you trust me enough to show it to me. Thank you, Jackie.”

Jack seems caught off-guard by the sincerity, but his face eventually widens into a huge grin.

“Let’s have lunch,” is all he says, seemingly not sure how to respond to Davey’s words. It might just be the heat, but Davey swears there’s a blush across Jack’s cheeks. “Pick us a spot on the grass, I’ll get the food out. We’ll have to thank Medda for it later.”

With that, the two boys turn in opposite directions and try to recover from that strangely soft interaction. Davey wanders down to the water and slips his shoes off so he can dip his foot in— it’s surprisingly cool and refreshing. He opts to sit down right there, his feet dangling in the creek as minnows nip at his toes.

“Good choice,” says Jack, moments later, as he approaches behind Davey and sits on the grass next to him. “The water’s sure nice, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” replies Davey, suddenly feeling very shy as Jack slings an arm around his shoulders and leans into his side. Holy shit. “It’s really nice. Colder than I was expecting.”

“Really now?” Jack reaches down to cup a handful of water and fling it in Davey’s face. “How’s that?”

Davey immediately retaliates, splashing a much more significant amount of water up onto Jack. Both of them are laughing hard, any thoughts of having lunch flying right out the window.

“That’s it, you’re on,” Jack growls, before sneakily wrestling Davey right into the creek. Both of them go down, tumbling fully-clothed into the shallow, cold water. “Take that, Davey-boy!”

The water-fight lasts several minutes and ends with no clear winner. They simply grow tired of it and flop onto the grass, exhausted.

It takes Davey a moment to process just how close together they are. Jack is laying against him, laughing into the crook of his neck. They’re both soaking wet and freezing cold— though it’ll likely only take a few minutes for the sun to warm them up. This means Davey has to act very quickly.

Before he can get caught up in his head and get too nervous to do it, he swallows his fear and presses a quick kiss to Jack’s cheek. Jack’s laughter ceases and he looks up at Davey— he thankfully doesn’t look angry, mostly just confused.

“I hope that was okay,” Davey quickly says, the weight of what he’s just done finally hitting him. “I didn’t mean to cross a line, I just really like you, and—”

He finds himself cut off by Jack’s lips pressing against his own. It takes him a second to process it, but he eventually smiles into the kiss and lets his arms sneak around Jack’s neck to hold him close. He’s not sure he’s ever been this happy before.

“I really like you too,” Jack replies, once they pull away for breath. “So much, Davey. I’m so happy to have you.”

With that, he reconnects their lips and they stay that way for a long while, sunlight streaming over them as birds chirp in the background.

Davey is really, really glad they moved to the country.

-

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