Maybe it was the first time they'd held hands in the movie theater in April while couples around them ignored the screen.
Maybe it was May, when Eric made Jack breakfast in his boxers and Jack got so red that Eric insisted on checking for a fever— he was lucky he didn't have one, or Eric might've made him stay home.
Or perhaps it was late June, when Eric begged Jack to teach him how to dance— and he did. Begrudgingly, but still; he loved the way Eric tried so hard, but still tripped over his feet and giggled every time Jack showed him a new move or put his hand on Eric's waist— he must be ticklish.
Maybe it was the fourth of July, when Jack fell asleep on Eric's chest, worn out from running around with him and Tommy in the sprinklers after dinner.
Maybe it was the first time Eric kissed Jack, just a quick and soft goodbye on the cheek, in August.
Or maybe it was early September, when movie night was a little too romantic— Jack's head laid back on Eric's shoulder while he practically sat on him as the cheesy romance Cory had chosen played. Eric may never admit this, but Jack still remembers the quiet whimper Eric breathed when he adjusted himself on Eric's thigh.
Nobody really quite knew when it had changed.
But that day, mid-October in the student lounge, with Topanga and Cory sitting together all cuddled up and talking about decorating their new place, Shawn was talking with Rachel about maybe going to the racquetball game this weekend, and Angela beside them faced towards Eric.
And Jack and Eric, comfortable yet still squished together in the large armchair. Jack was running his fingers through Eric's hair, draped over him with his legs hung over the other arm of the chair, while Eric debated with Angela about the best way to study— he claimed that making friends with the dean was the way to go, and Angela said, "Why wouldn't you just study like a normal person?"
And before Eric could answer, Jack butted in with, "Because he's not a normal person!" But it was said with affection. He kissed Eric on the nose, and Eric wrinkled his nose up in response— still grinning.
That day, something was definitely different than it had been months ago. And nobody even noted it. Not until—
"Oh, hey, Jack!" A girl called from across the student union. Jack tipped his head back to see, hanging over the arm of the chair before he flipped over and hopped off Eric's lap.
"Mindy!" He called excitedly, smiling and reaching out for a hug. She hugged him back. "Oh, my gosh! I haven't seen you in forever!!"
"Yeah, I'm going to Pennbrooke now! Just transferred from Lafayette!!" She grinned, leaning out of the hug.
"Do you like it so far?"
"Oh, yeah, it's great! The teachers are so much nicer than my last school," she tittered with an eyeroll.
Jack nodded.
"Who are you friends?" Mindy asked, smiling and nodding to the group.
Jack huffed out a soft, happy sigh, "Yeah, so, uh, this is Topanga and Cory, and Shawn, Angela over here and that's Rachel." He gestured to his friends, and they all waved, smiling. Jack turned a little, "And this is my boyfriend, Eric!" The word left his mouth before he even realized he had said it. But there was no taking it back. He glanced at Eric, nerves buzzing a little— but there was a kind of expectation in his eyes. Eric just smiled at Mindy, not reacting to the claim hardly at all as he stood, and reached out to shake her hand.
"Hi!" He was grinning that stupid, charming grin he always wore. And, somehow, the anxiety melted away from Jack. Eric pulled Jack in, arm around his waist, and kissed him on the cheek. Mindy beamed; "It's so nice to meet you all!" She said, looking around at them, "And I'm glad you finally found someone, Jack," she smiled warmly at him, but Jack wasn't looking at her when he replied, "Yeah, thanks.."
He was staring at Eric. Eric, and his stupid grin. Eric, and his big brown eyes. Eric, and his soft blonde hair. Eric.
And then Jack kissed him. For real this time. On the lips, with conviction. With control. With hunger. With love.
It was awkward at first, Jack coming in from the side. But as Eric shifted towards him, they adjusted. They fell into each other— Jack was lucky he didn't collapse right there on the floor of the student union, knees about to buckle under him. It was warm and wet and soft and real.
"What was that for?" Eric asked— with a grin like the sun was stuck in his throat— when they finally parted, Jack huffing out a couple short pants.
"I dunno.. felt right," was all he said before Eric pulled him in again.
i always forget that the three strikes job is the first part of a two part finale with many pieces in play because the only important thing to me is eliots beautiful baseball hair <3
It cracks me up that one of Sophie’s main assets in season 5 is her improv group that a) never asks any questions and b) is always down for any and all shenaniganery. Who are these people. Why are they here. I love them.
“Which part of fuck off,” he enunciates clearly, in a voice like a knife’s edge, “was too difficult for you to understand?”
Jack swallows hard, faltering back a step.
“It’s not what’cha think,” he begs. “I swear it’s not what’cha—“
“And what the fuck would you know about what I think?” Davey asks with a derisive scoff. “I’ll tell you what I think: I think you’re a coward and a traitor and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to trust you when you’ve been lying to me from the moment we met. Tell me, Jack,” he says, his eyes glittering like shattered glass. “Were you playing both sides from the start? Or was Pulitzer’s offer just too good to refuse?”
“I ain’t like that,” Jack pleads. “I didn’t want to, Dave, but I didn’t have a choice.”
“Don’t give me that shit,” Davey says sharply. “You always have a choice.”
“You don’t always have a good one,” Jack says grimly. “An’ a bad choice ain’t no choice at all.”
Davey’s eyes narrow.
“…You get two minutes,” he says finally. “Talk fast.”
“I went to talk’ta Pulitzer, jus’ like I said,” Jack says. “But he was expectin’ me. He started making all these threats about roundin’ everyone up an’ tossin’ ‘em in the refuge like they did Crutchie and— And he said he’d back off, but only if I called off the strike and got the rest of ya to fall in line—“
“And you believed him?” Davey asks, incredulous. “Jack, we were in his sights from the very beginning, he was never actually going to leave us alone—“
“I know that now!” Jack exclaims. “But I thought… I had to try. I had to at least try.”
“That’s not your call to make,” Davey says.
“Isn’t it, though?” Jack asks pointedly. “I’m the leader. I’m the one callin’ the shots. And when somethin’ goes wrong, I’m the one ‘ta blame. After what happened to Crutchie—“
Jack has to stop for a moment, the thought of what happened—what’s happening—to Crutchie almost too much to bear.
“What happened to Crutchie could’ve happened to any of us,” Jack shakily continues, once he thinks his voice won’t crumble to pieces. “They weren’t targetin’ anyone in particular, they could’ve nabbed any of us. So, maybe that’s on me, maybe it ain’t. Maybe Crutch would even tell me it was worth it. But this time…”
Jack scrubs a hand over his face. “Pulitzer’s closing in, Dave, he’s circlin’ us like a fuckin’ vulture, makin’ threats—“
“We knew what we were getting into, we agreed that it was worth the risk—“ Davey interrupts with that same righteous fury.
“No, Dave,” Jack interrupts, and Davey must read something in his expression because he actually stops arguing, his brow furrowed. “Not jus’ we. You. He looked at me, looked me right in the eye, and said your name. He knew your fuckin’ name,” Jack spits out, “an’ said it’d be such a shame if you ended up in the refuge because I didn’t know when’ta quit a lost ‘cause. Said it would be my fault.”
Jack stares at his hands—helpless, useless, idiotic, defeated. Then he rolls his shoulders back, and meets Davey’s gaze head on.
“I can’t let that happen,” he says solemnly. “I can’t be the one that ruins your life. An’ I’m sorry how it all went down, Dave, really, I am. But I’m not sorry for doin’ what little I can to try an’ protect you.”
Davey’s face has gone pale, his mouth pressed in a thin, harsh line.
“Pulitzer threatened me,” he says, his voice strange. “And you caved.”
Jack lets out a heavy breath, low and exhausted. “Yeah.”
“Me.”
“Yes, David. You.”
Davey stares at him. “You’ve known me for three days,” he says, like this is supposed to mean something to him.
Jack throws his hands up in exasperation. “So?”
And Davey starts laughing.
It bubbles out of him, loud and a little hysterical, and he hunches over with the strength of it, clutching his stomach. He laughs and laughs, then laughs some more, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.
Then suddenly he’s crying, pressing his palms to his eyes as if to physically halt the flow, his shoulders shaking, his lip quivering.
Jack’s heart fractures in his chest.
“Dave,” he says softly, stepping forward. “Davey, I’m— I’m sorry—“
Davey’s head whips up, and his eyes are wild, enraged, behind the tears. He grabs Jack by the collar of his shirt, hard enough to drag him off his feet a little, and starts forcing him backwards, step by furious step.
Jack’s back hits the brick of the alley behind him, and he’s certain that Davey’s gonna haul his arm back and clock him one good.
Instead, he kisses him.
It’s frenzied and frantic, teeth and noses bumping as they clash together. Davey’s hands cradle his jaw, holding him, no, pinning him in place as he ravages his mouth, a force of nature trapped beneath soft skin, breakable bones, and big blue eyes.
It’s overwhelming, it’s dizzying, and Jack can do nothing except give into it, give into him. He fumbles for purchase, cupping a hand around the back of Davey’s head and dragging him closer, kissing back just as desperately, caught in the storm.
But eventually, things start to slow, gentling into something softer, steadier. They’re both panting hard, chasing after each others’ mouths for a few final kisses, chests heaving in tandem.
Davey’s hands find his wrists, pushing him back but not away, and their hands tangle together, their foreheads just barely touching.
“This is bigger than us, Jackie,” Davey says quietly, and Jack sags against him, the first beginnings of hope blooming fresh in his chest. “It’s bigger than any one of us. You can’t sacrifice everything we’ve worked for, not for me. I won’t let you.”
“Dave,” Jack whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are,” Davey murmurs. “I get it. I’m still absolutely pissed at you for the way you went about it, but I get it.”
“The others,” he starts hesitantly. “Do you think… Will they forgive me?”
Davey’s hand curls around his hip, steady and grounding.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I think they will. They love you too much not to. But you’re gonna have to grovel.”
The smallest of smiles pulls at Jack’s mouth, refusing to be stifled.
“Fair enough,” he concedes.
“We can do this,” Davey tells him, and it’s hard not to believe him when he gets that glint in his eyes, steely determination shaping every syllable. “But we have to do it together.”
the hot potato job is underrated because what do you mean sophie mimics eliot's voice so well that eliot literally cannot speak in his natural tone??
sophie gradually deepening her voice and even sneaking in a bit of a southern accent at some points was already funny, but then eliot comes in as her accountant and is forced to just,, change his voice. because she stole it. underrated comedy GOLD
And don't you pay mind to that line in your mind that say's you'll ruin it. (10k, Thiam)
Summary:
Wanting isn’t a new feeling for him, but getting what he wants would be. He pulls the edge of his lip between his teeth, rolling it around as he taps the screen again, unlocking it.
If Liam is seeking him out, who is he to turn the wolf down?
His fingers move faster than his mind can comprehend what he’s typing.
THIS FACE. This silly smile. Danny being happy and proud. And so damn dreamy 😆
Danny: Nothing.
Steve: ???
Chin: *Awkward*
Danny, in his mind: My Mr Perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect for Gracie. Whoah, I'm so lucky. I WON! Grace McGarrett-Williams - sounds so fucking good, right? Oh yeah, Steve, you're born to be Monkey's daddy. And you know what? I wanna have more monkeys with you.
And oh, what we see in the next episode (1x03)?:
Danny: *taking Grace on his date with Steve (and with their Ohana)*
Steve: 😍 Hey, Gracie. I'm Steve. It's great to meet you 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍
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