Summary: Sarah did not really comprehend what she was seeing.
Pairing: Jack/David (touch of Jack/Sarah)
Word Count: 2200
Warning: Sexual relations, cheating, slash
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the goodness related to it. Alas.
Author Note: Gggaaahhh, first Newsies fic ever, and I haven't written fanfiction in, oh, 4 years or so? Please review ^.^" xposted to FF.net of all places!
Sarah did not really comprehend what she was seeing.
Everything had started off so normal. Her brother was over for dinner, and the three were laughing about all the old times when he and her husband were newsies, striking against the giants of New York. When the three of them were together, it was easy for her to ignore the looks between Jack and David, but once the dishes were clean and she went to lie down alone, it was impossible for her to ignore Jack’s absence beside her.
She could not rest, wondering what was going on the other side of the door between her husband and David; as much as she wanted to resist, to at least leaving some doubt, she crept to the door, opening it a crack. The couch was only at a slight angle, so she had a perfect view of the pair. The pair was sitting next to each other, as close as they could be without one being in the other’s lap. Jack was smiling at David in the way he was supposed to smile at her, his hand so casually resting on David’s thigh, so tenderly. But that was impossible, because they were too men, and women brought the tenderness and love to a relationship; she must be interpreting things incorrectly, it had to be completely platonic affection.
Then David’s hand reached up and stroked Jack’s cheek and Jack’s eyes fluttered shut, nuzzling into David’s hand. That probably had some sort of explanation, something brotherly – but Jack tilting his head just enough to suck David’s thumb into his mouth was impossible to understand. David’s sharp intake of breath could even be heard by Sarah’s ears.
To her relief David yanks his hand away, catching himself like Jack was a hot stove. See, it was completely innocent after all; Jack just got caught in some weird moment, got confused. But when she looked at Jack his face was heartbroken, “Please, Davy, I can’t stand this…” Stand what?
David had slide back from Jack, to the point they were no longer touch, “You’re married now, and we aren’t boys anymore…” Does that mean something like this has happened before? It was like a punch in her gut. “Jack, my sister…” At least she had not been completely forgotten. That doesn’t mean that either of them spared a glance for the door. They were entirely in their own world, with low lamplight and no way to acknowledge anyone else.
Jack shook his head, started crawling over to her brother, running his hand through David’s hair. David notably didn’t stop him. “I don’t care; she’s asleep, just …” This couldn’t be happening; Jack’s head was dipping down, “just once more,” and David’s hands were on her husband’s hips, pulling him to straddle him. A part of her was grateful – she could no longer see the moment their lips were going to meet, even if it was completely unmistakable.
Everything had been so slow, but now it was like everything was happening in flashes. The moment they let themselves get lost in the kiss opened flood gates between the two of them. Jack’s hands running through David’s hair, while David’s worked on her husband’s shirt, shucking it in an instant. “Oh Davy…” Her brother shifted around, laying Jack down on the couch, affording her a perfect few again. David was working on his own shirt while Jack fussed with his pants, only slowing down when they got lost in the deep kisses again. Jack had never kissed her like that; it was like he was dying of thirst in a desert, and David was a source of water.
She could feel the tears running down her face completely ignored. She was frozen in shock of the whole seen, not knowing how to understand any of this. These were two men, doing the things a man and wife did, and not just any two men, the two men she was closed to. Was it really betrayal if he was with another man? She wasn’t sure. Jack always swore he had never been with a woman before her – was this why? How many other boys could there have been before her? Was this all just some crazy byproduct of living in a house full of boys? If it were, why was her brother involved in it?
She had been lost in her thoughts, and apparently missed the moment the two switched places, and lost the remainder of their clothing. Her husband was lying naked on top another man; her brother was laying naked with another man hovering over him, the pair grinding their hips together. Despite the late fall air, the both had a layer of sweat covering them. It did not change a single thing, but it gave her something to focus on. Jack was almost shaking, his face full of so much want and need. Why couldn’t he of just come to lie with her?
Everything started do slow down again; the look on Jack’s face changed, as if asking some unheard question, and David nodded. That nod became another spark, like that first kiss she almost witnessed. Jack’s head surged downward thrusting all his hunger into kissing David. She was almost distracted enough by the kiss not to notice where Jack’s hands were moving – almost. One hand was used to shift her brother’s hips, for what purpose didn’t understand. The mechanics of it didn’t make sense like that; she was worldly enough to figure that much out. But his other hand had taken a firm hold of himself. She put the two together, and a part of her world shattered.
It was so easy for her to focus on each disjointed detail. Like the way her brother’s toes had curled when Jack entered him, with a soundless cry on his face; why would he partake in something that hurt him so much? Or the creased concentration on Jack’s face – it was a looks she only saw directed at her once, the first time they had lain together. Had he been thinking of her brother the entire time? She put the thought right out; it simply wasn’t worth dwelling on. Jack had begun to rock, and the pained look David’s face was loosening with each thrust of her husband’s hips. She knew that feeling; how the moment Jack would penetrate her it felt like he was trying to split her wide open, but with each thrust it became gentler, more comfortable, until it slipped into pleasure. “Oh Jack, you feel so good,” she never would have thought it would be the same for them.
“Davy,” he said between panting thrusts, when he had enough breath to actually speak, “I love you.” Any type of stoic strength she may have had left finally broke at that point. There was so much conviction behind each word; it made every time he had said it to her feel so flippant. She let out a quiet sob, quiet, but not silent. It didn’t matter though, they were too caught up in their own actives to even notice. “Come for me, Davy,” those word she had heard before, but only with her name attached. She can remember what it feels like for Jack to play with her while they were in bed, stroking between her legs, but it all felt worthless now. Now she will never be able to forget this moment. She will never not compare the way Jack stroked her own brother of all people! His hand was wrapped around his length, sliding up and down then way she did to Jack on some dark nights when she was bleeding, letting his thumb slip over the sensitive head. She never wanted to have that hand touch her again.
She could tell he was close, they both were. Sarah forced herself to look away, to shut the door and just let them be; she had to at least save herself that deep indignity. If she didn’t see them climax, then maybe she could pretend she never saw such a perverted display, maybe she could convince herself it was all a dream. But even if her eyes were squinted shut and the door was sealed, she could still hear each thrust, hear each moan and grunt and finally David’s outburst of, “I love you!” and echoed by Jack, though not nearly as exclamatory. Somehow she knew that was finally the end of it. Even without seeing, she could picture it so clearly in her mind. David arching up, his toes curling in again, all the scrunched up concentration on his face as he tried to hold back the coming tide of pleasure, to make their time together last just a moment longer before finally abandoning everything and letting pleasure wash over him. She knew what Jack looked like in the throes of passion, he would have his hands clamped tightly on David’s hips while he thrust hard; he would kiss him with increasing sloppiness until he finally broke away, throwing his head back with a quite grunt as he came. He’d collapse forward to catch his breath, entangling their arms together, not worried about the sweat and stickiness, just wanting to wrap up in your body again. That would be the moment he would murmur a sweet ‘I love you,’ just to make sure you knew it wasn’t about sex, but expressing a real connection, that it was more than just a physical exercise but truly making love. It wasn’t until now that Sarah realized how hollow it must have been for him, that he was just mimicking what he did with another man.
It was a long pause before she really heard anything again, almost long enough for her to think they had been careless and fallen asleep intertwined. But then she heard a quiet kiss, probably on the forehead or hair, something easily reachable without moving, followed by words that one of them should have said hours ago, or maybe they had and it just didn’t matter? “We can’t do this anymore, Jack. This has to stop.”
Another long pause, and then the sound of shift, someone sitting up, “I know.” She wished the door was still cracked, then she could at least be comforted that they were no longer in each other’s arms. “I just can’t be around you and not want this, I don’t care how wrong it is.”
Rustling of cloths, maybe the pair was actually putting on their abandoned garments. Despite being an inevitability, it made Sarah happy. This was going to stop, her husband would come back to her side, to their bed. “You do, Jack. You have a wife who loves you; a wife you love taking care of. You have a family now; you’re not the lone cowboy anymore.”
“I know, I just don’t-” He was cut off by the sound of a kiss. Sarah just wished it would stop – that her brother would stop kissing her husband, that her husband would come to bed and wrap his arms around her, that David would sleep on the couch and they could all pretend that nothing was wrong with their dynamics. She wished Jack would make love to her, and she would rid him of any ideas he had about anyone else.
But she knew that wouldn’t work. She had seen the way he looked at her brother, the way he touched her. She didn’t want him to touch her like that ever again, because it was so empty in comparison. And she no matter what happened, she didn’t want that hand stroking her to orgasm ever again.
She could hear the pair breaking apart again, “Never again, Jack.”
Then a halfhearted shuffle, followed by one simple word, “Okay.” Sarah let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding until now. It was only then she realized that shuffle had been toward their bedroom door. She pulled herself up, wiping away the tears as she crossed to their bed. At least this hadn’t been sullied with their inappropriate actions.
She pretended to be asleep when Jack finally came in. To keep from tears she listed all the chores she would do the next day in her head. She would crochet a new afghan for the couch, donate that one to the one of the newsie lodges.
She jumped when Jack’s hand snaked around to hold her. She forced herself to lie still when he kissed behind her ear. This was her husband, and he was a good man; he provided for her. He didn’t beat her, didn’t come back late at night after gambling and drinking their money away. She let her hand slip into his and pull it tight around herself. She ignored the stink of sex, and of her brother. If Jack occasionally needs to find release elsewhere to keep him with her, then she could live with that, because she loved him.