Title:  Catharsis

Pairing:  Javid!

Why?  Angel of Harmony's 18th  birthday!  And because I'm insane!  Now everyone go read her stuff and enjoy it muchly. 

            "We need to talk."

            David's voice was curt, each word clipped off, sharp at the edges like a paper cut.  His mouth was drawn into a thin line, his jaw set firmly below it, and his eyebrows were dark furrows above harshly glittering eyes.  Jack had seen that expression on David's face before. He looked around at the crowd of happy children, most of them younger than he was although lines around eyes and mouths made them all look old, and sighed unhappily.  If David took another swing at him, he didn't want to have to hit him back in front of everybody.  It would be humiliating for them both.

            "Yeah, sure," he said, loose and casual.  Non-confrontational.  Palms showing at his sides, with no hint of a clenched fist, though muscles were coiled below his skin just in case.  "What about?"

            David made a move and Jack's fingers flinched inward, but the action was only to bring arms up over his chest.  Jack felt strangely cut off then, with the barrier of crossed arms and the cold distance in David's eyes stopping him from reaching out and touching.  He hadn't realized just how comfortable he'd become with that privilege until David stood looking at him across the ocean of a few cobblestones.

            The air between them seemed to swell with thick storm clouds and the roar of breakers, making it harder to breathe.  Jack frowned; he'd never liked the sea, preferring instead the dry and friendly plains of the West.

            Instead of answering him with words, David's eyes cut away through the crowd.  Jack's gaze, following, saw a space that, in the jostling of the crowd, had emptied out.  Past that yawned the mouth of an alleyway that was partially blocked by the bulk of an abandoned newspaper wagon.  Something clenched inside him at the sight.  He didn't want to fight things out with David there.  Too many confrontations had taken place in alleys recently, too many words thrown out that couldn't be unsaid.  His lips formed the word no, but David was already on his way.  Jack followed the straight line of his back, feeling strangely compelled.

            It was surprisingly easy to slip through the messy tangle of lingering celebrants without being stopped.  Maybe they took one look at the thunderstorm on David's face, or the answering gloomy resignation on his own, and realized that they shouldn't interrupt.  Maybe they thought it was important strike leader business.

            Jack scoffed at that thought.  Strike leaders who'd abandoned the cause need not apply.

            The alley smelled dank and foul when he stepped inside, like the lodging house during winter when the water was too cold to wash with and more boys than usual huddled around for heat.  Shreds of paper and other trash shuffled under their feet, but that was the only noise.  So far neither had spoken.  The quiet breathed around them.

            More to break the silence than to put anything into motion, Jack cleared his throat.  "Look, Dave," he said recklessly.  "I don't want to fight you."

            David twisted to look at him and Jack saw that the corners of his mouth had turned down.  He shook his head.  "Don't you listen to anything?  I said we need to talk."

            Before Jack had a chance to be relieved, flares of pain were shooting from his shoulders as breath left his body in a forceful whoosh.  His chest tightened as it fought for a gulp of air and he brought his fists up instinctively, until his mind registered that he hadn't been punched.  When his vision steadied, all he saw for an endless moment was blue.  Then other details clicked into place and he realized that David's face was an angry breath away from his, glacial eyes boring into his.  Hard fingers grasped his biceps, holding him against the wall. 

            Jack strained experimentally against the unrelenting grip and found it wasn't strong enough to hold him if he made an effort to get away.  Tension eased a little at that discovery, loosening his fists but remaining pooled in his stomach.

            "Talk about what?" he asked with as much ease as he could muster.  His mind was busy forming ways to break away without hurting David, if he decided he really did want to fight. It was hard to concentrate with David staring unblinkingly at him.

            David laughed then, a bitter sound.  Jack shivered at the heat of breath gusting over his face and he shifted uneasily.  David tightened his grip.  "If you don't know then you're not as smart as I gave you credit for."

            Jack flinched a little.  "I don't understand," he said plaintively, then was suddenly, uncomfortably, reminded of the same words coming from David.

            "Then I'll have to explain it to you."

            The kiss, when it came, ripped through him, rocked his perceptions and expectations back on their heels, then settled into his muscles and bones like it had always belonged.  His skin felt tight with astonished realization, stretched so that bricks and fingers and knees pressed against it felt even sharper.

            He'd kissed another Jacobs child not so long ago, but the memory of that was burning away in the furious force of David's lips against his.  This kiss was bruising with a fierce intensity he hadn't seen behind David's pacifism, and he found his body responding to it.

            His hands spasmed open, shut, then shot out and scrambled for a hold in the fabric of David's shirt.  He pressed his palms against the jutting curve of shoulder blades and threaded folds of warm, sweaty material through his fingers, filled his hands with David and pulled him closer.  Their hips clashed together, bony and hard, and the only sound was their harsh breathing.

            David's tongue was insistent at his taut lips.  It pushed past his lips and teeth, filled his mouth.  Jack made a noise low in his throat and tilted his head, opening his mouth until his jaw felt strained.  He let David taste him until his tongue felt swollen and foreign behind his own teeth.

            Just as suddenly as it began, the kiss ended.  David was several steps away from him, calmly wiping spit and a hint of blood from his lips.  Jack swiped his tongue across his teeth, and tasted copper.  His arms flopped, empty, to his sides.

            The anger seemed to have drained from David, but his chin remained firm and proudly tilted.  "When you understand, let me know," he said, voice still hoarse.  Then he was gone and Jack was left feeling like he'd been too close to the sun.

            And, as he stood there measuring the echo of pleasure still rushing in his blood with the memory of friendship, Jack began to understand.