A/N: I have writer's block like whoa. X.X

Disclaimer: Newsies is owned by Disney. If it were owned by me, it wouldn't have a PG rating. 'Bright Star' is copyright to John Keats.

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"Bright star!/would I were steadfast as thou art—" David read quietly from the book one hand absently stroking his sleeping lover's curls.

His breath, warm and sweet, was on his chest and his hands were balled into loose fists as he slept. David closed the book quietly and he awoke.

"No, Dave," he said quickly. "That one's my favorite. Read it!"

David smiled softly and looked at his face. His dreamy eyes and tight curls. His upturned nose and easily grinning mouth.

"Alright."

Mush curled up against him, putting his arms around his midsection.

"Not in lone splendor/hung aloft in the night," he whispered into his curls. "Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite/The moving waters at their priestlike task/Of pure ablution round earth's human shores/Or gazing on the new of soft fallen mask/Of snow upon the mountains and moors…"

Mush glanced up at him quizzically. "What's a moor, Davey?"

"It's like a high place where there are a lot of peat bogs. There's a lot in Scotland."

"Scotland? Can we go there?"

David chuckled and ran his free hand through his curls. "Sure thing, Bright Star."

He smiled. He loved when he called him that. Bright Star. Evening Star. North Star. He was David's star.

"Keep goin'," he urged. "I'm gonna fall asleep soon."

"No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable/Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast—"

"That's me!"

"Mush, your breasts aren't ripening."

He grinned. "I know but it's code for me, I know it. Anyhow, it's my favorite part anyway. 'Cept the beginning."

David chuckled and continued. "To feel for ever its soft fall and swell/Awake for ever in a sweet unrest/still, still to hear his tender-taken breath."

He often switched the pronoun when he read to Mush. Mush couldn't read so he wouldn't know the poem was actually about a woman.

He leaned up and kissed David's lips softly, tiredly. He yawned a little. His yawn always reminded him of a kitten's. He curled up further into David's arms. This time was theirs. The night was theirs. No more hiding in alleyways, stealing kisses and pretending they were accidents. No more back pain from the constant hiding. Just them. Them and Keats.

"And so live for ever—or else swoon to death…"

David put the book down and put his arms around Mush. He kissed him lightly and felt him kiss him back. Holding Mush was like holding an animal, careful and tight with coiled muscles. He kissed his full, cherubic lips that were starting to curl into a smile.

"Good night, Bright Star," he whispered into his mouth.