Disclaimer: Newsies belongs to Disney, not moi.
My first SpRace oneshot! Yay!
Warning: SLASH AHEAD! Don't like? Don't fecking read!
Dedicated to: All of my the 'Screaming Peaches'. .
Winter Season
The newsies of Manhattan didn't see snow all that much but when they did, they enjoyed it to the fullest. Winter was a time for snowballs and angels and a free cup of hot coco every now and then. Albeit many of them loved the sweet snow, almost none of them liked the season itself. After all, if you were a poor orphan or runaway selling papes in the cold you'd freeze, too.
Racetrack's favorite season was winter because he got to lay in bed and stare at the white falling from the sky. It was the only excuse for snuggling up next to someone that a proud teenage boy could use and not be stared at oddly. And winter was the season they all got to see Spot and his gang the most, wasn't it? Of course, they preferred the Manhattan streets to the frozen waters around Brooklyn. And Race was absolutely plunged in his feelings for Spot Conlon. (which ran past those of um, "just friends")
He had been expecting Davey and Cowboy to stop by for a quick "hello, how you doing" sort of thing. He had been expecting to see Snitch and Skittery tumble into a mass of embraces and smooches in the ivory snow. He had not been expecting Spot Conlon to show up at the doorstep while everyone else was playing around outside.
Race had looked up, straight into those eyes and tripped over the clothes he was folding for a couple of bucks from Itey. Spot had laughed that beautiful laugh without moving from his position against the doorframe. The Italian boy had groaned and lifted himself up from the pile of underwear, undershirts and socks, giving Spot a weak grin. His stomach fluttered a bit and he mashed the clothes into a pile on Itey's bunk after, proceeding to walk shyly over to his good friend.
"Look, I gotta fold some clothes for Itey, so I can't talk for long er nothin'. You's wonderin' about an upcomin' race a' somethin'?"
Spot had looked into his face with a cocked brow. "Foldin' clothes? Dat don't sound much like you, Race."
The shorter male had shrugged, "I's getting' paid for it."
There was a strange silence.
"So, whatcha' want?" Race finally put in. "I told ya I gotta' finish up hea'."
Something flickered in Conlon's eyes. He leaned forward, quite close to Racetrack's already flushed face and said, "You can finish up later," before snatching him by the arm and pulling him into a kiss.
Winter had always been Race's favorite time of year for a reason.
The End