Disclaimer: I do not own Snitch and/or Skittery. Christmas is in about 7 months though, and it's never too soon to get your favorite writer a gift. Uh . . . or maybe not. As for the rest of the characters, if they weren't in the movie, I own them!
There was a fairly large crowd, even for a Saturday night. For Skittery, though, the noise and stench of booze only served as more of a reminder of where he would rather be at half past midnight.
With his head resting on the bar, he realized how often he had taken the comforts of The Lodging House for granted. It was practically a suite compared to this place.
But he couldn't leave. Not now. That wasn't what good friends did.
A harsh rap against the bar, which seemed to have struck only centimeters away from his head, caused him to jerk up suddenly. A glass, the source of the interruption, was precariously gripped in the hands of its owner: a very drunk Snitch.
"Hey! Bartender! Get your fat ol' ass over here!"
The bartender, whose face had reddened at the comment, glowered over the drunk newsie. "Yes, sir," he asked through clenched teeth, "is there something you need?"
"I need another drink. Anything. Surprise me."
"I think you've had enough," the man said, having smelled the boy's alcohol reeking breath. "I don't think I should–"
"Hey! I ain't paying you ta think, am I? So why don't you waddle over there and pour me a drink?" Snitch clamored, slapping more money down.
The bartender opened his mouth to reply, but decided to simply comply. "Yes, sir," he replied in a slightly mocking tone. Taking the money, he walked away in defeat, muttering obscenities under his breath.
Snitch let out a huge sigh. "Ya see Skittery? I just can't get respect from no one. I mean, is a drink so much to ask for? Ya'd think a guy like him would understand. Don't us rejects hafta stick together? I mean, if ya can't count on one of your own, who can ya count on?"
"Snitch, you ain't a reject," Skittery said. "So you got dumped. It happens to the best of us."
"It never happens to Spot."
"Look, why do you care so much? I never thought Annie was that great to begin with. I mean, sure she wasn't too bad to look at, but she was too pushy. Always trying to change ya."
"That ain't the point. The point is most of the guys have someone. I just don't want to be left out."
"I don't have someone," Skittery reminded. When Snitch made no reply, Skittery continued. "I know ya want someone, but you shouldn't just settle for just anyone. I know ya could do better."
"Like who?"
Like me.
Not that he was going to say that of course. "Well, I don't know no one off hand, but there are lots of girls out there that like ya. Pretty girls. Nice girls. I see the way they look at ya." And it makes me jealous than ever he added in his own mind.
The bartender returned with a full glass. "You're drink, sir," he said, slamming the glass down in front of Snitch.
"'Bout time," he muttered. He grabbed the drink and in one swift movement gulped it down. As his taste buds relayed the message to his brain, his face grimaced. "Ya call that a drink?!?" he shouted loudly. "Tastes like piss!"
Skittery felt his face flush as patrons began staring at the scene. He wasn't the only one who noticed though.
"Hey!" the bartender hissed to Skittery. "Your friend is scaring everyone away! I'll give you fifty cents if you get him out of here!"
Skittery grinned. "Make it a buck and it's a deal!"
The man narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw at the audacity of the young man. Another outburst from Snitch, though, silenced any complaints he might have had.
"Piggy! I ain't gonna shut up until I get a drink that's worth my time!"
The bartender slapped a dollar on the bar. "You got yourself a deal, kid! Now get that jackass out!"
With one arm around Snitch's waist, and his other holding Snitch's hand securely, Skittery set out on the journey back to The Lodging House. However, he had seen Snitch drunk before, and he knew that this would be no easy task.
"I dunno what that guy's problem is," Snitch slurred loudly. "You'd think he'd be happy to have a good customer like me! I just don't get it."
"Me neither Snitch," Skittery sighed.
Snitch blinked his eyes rapidly as small specs of white fluttered into them. As his eyes began to focus (or at least focus as well as they possibly could in his intoxicated state), he was delighted by the sight of tiny snow flakes dancing across the sky.
"It's snowing!" he cried, breaking free of Skittery's grasp and running into the path of the falling crystals. Unfortunately, he took only a couple of steps before toppling over into a mound of snow. Undaunted, he rolled onto his back and opened his mouth in an attempt to taste the sweet flakes.
Skittery rubbed his temples impatiently. "C'mon Snitch! You can play in the snow tomorrow. We have to get back."
"Someone always keeps a window unlocked," Snitch pointed out. "We'll be fine. Besides, don't it look beautiful tonight?"
Even Skittery had to admire the majestic appearance the night seemed to have. In fact, a part of him wanted nothing more than to lie down next to Snitch, and hold him close. And, had they been in almost any other situation, he probably would do just that. But the sensible part of him knew he couldn't do that.
"Snitch, I know how ya get when you're drunk. I have to get ya back before ya pass out. I can't carry ya up through that window." Though the idea of carrying Snitch in his arms didn't seem too bad to Skittery.
"Ok, Mr. Grumpy," Snitch replied, throwing his hands up in defeat.
Once they were back in the proper position, they once again set out on their journey. But, of course, no journey (no matter how short it may be) is complete without a song.
"Annie, Annie! Give me your answer do!" Snitch belted out, changing the song slightly to better fit his situation. "I'm half cra–," He paused, realizing the inconsistency of the song now that he had changed. "Uh, Skitts?"
"Yeah?"
"What rhymes with Annie?"
Skittery shrugged. "I don't know"
After thinking for a moment, the rhyme didn't seem so important to Snitch anymore. He decided to just continue with the song as normal. "I'm half crazy! All for the love of you!" he sang off-key. "It won't be a stylish marriage! I can't afford a carriage! But you'll look sweet, upon the seat, of a bicycle built for two!"
"Hey! Shut yer yap!" an angry man cried from above them, obviously irritated at having been woken at the wee hours of the morning. A few more sporadic groans surrounded the duo. Neither took them much into consideration, however.
Snitch turned to Skittery with his eyes wide, as though he had just been struck with a wonderful idea.
"Hey Skitts! Ya think Annie would come back to me if I sang to 'er? I mean, girls like romantic things like that, don't they?"
"Snitch, I am going to say this as nice as I can: Annie is a lost cause. Just get over her. Find someone else to get your mind off her."
"But I need my mind off 'er now! No one's around now."
I am.
"Well, except you," Snitch continued, as though reading Skittery's thought.
"Snitch, just be quiet for now. We're almost there."
Finally, the pair reached their destination. As Snitch had pointed out earlier, someone had left a window unlocked to allow entry to late comers. Once he had gotten Snitch in, Skittery did his best to keep the drunk boy as quiet as possible, lest they be attacked by sleep-deprived newsies.
"Ok, Snitch. We're gonna play a game. Does that sound like fun to you?" Skitter asked in a hushed voice. As Snitch nodded vigorously, Skittery continued. "We're going to play the Go-To-Sleep game. The rules are really easy. You go to your bed, lie down, and go to sleep."
"Well, what do I get if I win," Snitch inquired in the same hushed voice.
One hell of a hangover tomorrow morning. Skittery thought to himself. "Well . . . uh . . . we'll discuss that in the morning," he replied. When you won't remember anything that happened tonight.
Snitch seemed to accept that, and he went about getting ready for bed. Skittery did the same before finally slipping into his bed. His salvation was soon interrupted by a poke in the side. He wasn't really surprised by whom he found there.
"Snitch, what are you doing? You're losing the game."
"I can't get up into my bunk."
Of course. He can't even walk properly when he's drunk. Why the hell would he be able to climb onto a top bunk?
"Can I sleep with you?"
It was an innocent enough question. But Skittery couldn't help but be the tiniest bit excited by the proposal. However, he tried to maintain his composure. "Uh, Snitch, I dunno if that's really a good idea. I mean . . . well . . . uh . . . " he trailed off, searching for some kind of an excuse.
Maybe it was the pitiful look Snitch was giving him. Or maybe it was the knowledge that by refusing, Snitch would continue to bother him until he gave in.
Most likely, though, it was that Skittery had secretly been wanting this for two and a half years now.
Either way, he nodded and lifted up the blanket. Snitch jumped in delighted. Maybe he was just as excited by this new arrangement as Skittery was.
Or maybe he was just happy to be out of the freezing air.
"Thanks Skittery. I don't know what I'd ever do without you," Snitch whispered softly. Snitch snuggled further against Skittery, which made him both ecstatic and uncomfortable. He tenderly placed his arm securely around Snitch's waist. Only to keep him from falling out, of course.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Before long, Snitch was sound asleep, gently sucking his thumb, a habit Skittery found to be adorable. He found himself simply staring at Snitch for almost an hour, before his eyelids began to fall and he finally gave in to the exhaustion.
Snitch knew something was wrong the second he woke-up the next morning. Well, not wrong really, just different.
A few things could have keyed him in. Maybe the feeling of human flesh under him. Possibly the rhythmic beating of a heart which seemed to echo in his head (though that could have also been the hangover). Could have been the way his head softly rose and lowered, as though his pillow were inflating and deflating.
However, his biggest clue was the soft sound of snoring which was emanating somewhere right above his head.
Looking up, he found the source of the sound to be Skittery, who was lying under Snitch, both of them entwined in each others' arms. Even as his head pounded and his eyes watered by the bright light, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of his friend, whose unruly hair had fallen into his face. Snitch leaned over and softly brushed the rebellious pieces away.
"Wha? I didn't do it." Skittery muttered, still half-asleep. Snitch couldn't contain his laughter.
"Didn't do what Skitts?"
Skittery opened his eyes slowly, giving them time to adjust to the sudden burst of light. "Snitch?" He sat up carefully, taking in his surroundings. Memories of the prior night came flooding back at once. His face reddened as he remembered holding Snitch close to him and barely taking his eyes off of him. "I . . . uh . . . how ya feeling?" he asked, now at a loss for words. Looking up he could see the weariness in Snitch's eyes and knew how much his head must be hurting.
"I'm fine. I mean my head hurts like hell and every bone in my body is aching. But I think I'm over Annie."
"That's good," Skittery said with a smile. "I'm really glad."
"Yeah. I just can't believe I made such a jackass out of myself over her."
Both just nodded. For a minute, there was an awkward silence. It was on the tip of the tongues of each of them to discuss the happenings of the prior night. However, neither seemed to have the courage.
Finally, Skittery spoke up. "Uh, Snitch?"
"Yeah?"
"You may want to go get cleaned-up. Ya kinda look like shit."
Ok, so it wasn't exactly the most romantic thing in the world to tell the person with whom you are madly in love, but for Skittery, he was just happy he could even get any words out at all.
Snitch grinned slightly, but then winced in the pain it caused. Sliding off of the bed, he began making his way to the wash room. At the foot of the bed, though, he stopped short.
"Hey Skitts? Ya remember when ya told me I should find someone to take my mind off Annie?"
A million thoughts ran through Skittery's head. The most prominent being Shit! He remembers last night!
Seeing he wasn't going to get an answer, Snitch continued. "Well, I think it's not such a bad idea." As he talked, he walked closer and closer to Skittery. "I think, though, that maybe it should be someone I can trust. Maybe someone I've known for five years. Maybe someone I've shared my personal feelings with. Someone who has carried me to my bed countless times without a fuss. Someone that's let me sleep in their bed."
Skittery's heart began to leap listening to Snitch's fantasy description. Only one person, to his knowledge, fit all of those descriptions. Him
His heart was practically leaping from his chest as Snitch leaned down softly and whispered, "Someone like you, Skittery."
Once he had finally gotten control of his body back, Skittery replied to this offer in his own way. Placing his hand gently behind the boy's head, Skittery brought their lips together in a soft, passionate, perfect kiss. After reluctantly breaking apart, Skittery smiled.
"I'd love to be your someone, Snitch."
Woo! My first Snittery! Yeah, not the greatest. Still, I'm proud of it! Show how proud (or disgraced) you are by leaving a review! I am accepting lavish praise (snort), constructive criticism, and even flames, as long as they're nice flames. Wait, that's kind of an oxymoron, isn't it? Much love to all!