Disclaimer: Don't own any of the Newsies.
Favored By Fortune
"Come on, eat the stupid cookie!" my best friend, Snitch, pleaded. I had no idea what it was about Chinese food that got him so riled up that he had to embarrass me every time we walked into a restaurant.
"This is why I don't eat at restaurants with you anymore!" I said in a low voice, glancing around nervously at the random people who were beginning to stare.
"Geez, it's just a fortune cookie," he replied, rolling his eyes and poking at the leftover food on his plate with his chopstick.
"I don't like fortune cookies." I crossed my arms tightly, shooting him a cold look. "I don't like fortunes and I don't like cookies. WHY WOULD I WANT A FORTUNE COOKIE?!!"
"Psh, you're no fun."
"Well, you're immature."
"And you're mean."
"Still immature."
"Eat the cookie."
I glared at him and he glared right back. By then, I was sure the whole restaurant was curious as to whether or not I was going to eat the cookie willingly or if Snitch was going to shove it down my throat. I'll bet you ten bucks they wanted the latter. We glared at each other for a good two minutes before Snitch sighed in defeat.
"At least tell me what the fortune is." Okay, that just proves it. I HAVE THE BEST GLARE. EVER.
"Fine," I said, grabbing the cookie off of the plate in front of me and breaking it in half mercilessly.
"Aw, poor cookie."
I shot him a 'what-the-hell-are-you-smoking?' look and he quickly turned his gaze to the ceiling, whistling a random tune innocently.
Focusing my attention back onto the fortune cookie, I quickly pulled out the white slip of paper hidden in it and pushed the plate toward Snitch.
"What's it say?" Snitch asked excitedly, grabbing a piece of the broken cookie and popping it into his mouth.
"It says 'don't talk with your mouth full'," I replied dully, gaining another glare in return. Rolling my eyes, I looked down at the sheet of paper, reading its contents.
'You will fall in love with your best friend.'
"A-ha..." I said quietly, glancing at Snitch then back at the paper in my hands. "That's very interesting."
"What's very interesting?" he asked, leaning forward and trying to get a look at my fortune. I smirked.
"Huh. I forgot how to read."
"GIVE ME THE PAPER," Snitch said impatiently, standing up and reaching for it.
"Aw, what? Can't come get it for yourself?" I stood up as well, dangling the fortune above his head.
"COME ON! You know you're taller than me!"
"By only two inches!" I said, laughing. Snitch was so easy to annoy, it was funny.
"Excuse me," said a female voice from next to us. I turned to see a very agitated Chinese waitress, hands on her hips, and a cold expression on her face.
"Um, check please," I said innocently, ignoring Snitch snatching the paper from my grasp.
Ten minutes later, Snitch and I were making our way out of the restaurant. Snitch's hyperactivity was wearing off, thank god. I didn't know how much longer I could have put up with the Fortune Cookie Dictator.
"Do you actually believe the fortune in a fortune cookie?" Snitch asked, climbing into the passenger seat of the car my parents had bought me for college.
"No," I replied, getting into the driver's seat. "Why?"
Snitch shrugged. "No reason." It was then that I realized I didn't know where my fortune had gone. I turned out my pockets, coming up with nothing but a couple coins and a paperclip. Wait, how did a paperclip get in my pocket?
"Looking for this?" I heard Snitch say, amusement in his voice. I turned to find him dangling the fortune in front of my face like I had done to him earlier. I snatched at it, but he was quicker than I was. He stuffed the tiny piece of paper into his pocket, grinning victoriously.
After a moment of silence, I shrugged, trying to look like I didn't care. "So what if you know what it said? I don't believe in those things anyway."
"Then why were you looking for it?"
"I wasn't... I was... I was looking for this paperclip, see? And I found it. What would I have done without my paperclip..."
There was another moment of silence before Snitch spoke.
"You know that I believe in the fortunes, right?"
I turned away from him, staring at the steering wheel in front of me. I bit my lip.
"Snitch, I'm straight."
He heaved a sigh.
"Yeah. I know..."
"And... And I don't believe in for—."
"I get it."
"Snitch..."
"Can we go, now?"
I sighed, rubbing my eyes tiredly before starting the car.
The drive back to our apartment building was completely silent and tension-filled. I glanced at Snitch every so often, catching him glancing right back at me.
Snitch used to have a crush on me when we were juniors in high school. I remember being incredibly weirded out when he finally told me. You would be, too, if your best friend for five years came up to you one day after school and confessed that he had a huge crush on you. I had no idea what to say, except that I was straight and that he'd have to accept that fact. For over a year, I thought he had, but this whole fortune cookie thing...
I was relieved when we finally got to our building, climbing the steps silently to the seventh floor and entering our separate apartments. Tossing my keys onto the coffee table, I stretched out onto the couch, staring at the flaky white ceiling.
It was so weird. The more I thought about the fortune, the more I started to think about Snitch as more than a friend. I turned over, burying my face into the soft cushion.
I wanted to tell him I was sorry for hurting him.
No, I wanted to kiss him and tell him how sorry I was.
I wanted to tell him that I was living a lie.
That I wanted him like he wanted me.
That I was gay.
I sat up quickly, starting to scare myself with all the thoughts running rampant through my mind. Were they really true? Had I been living a lie all these years? Was I really gay? How would it feel to be held by Snitch?
I stood up quickly, heading out the door and to the apartment across mine. Knocking on the door quietly, my heart rate began to speed up and the palms of my hands became sweaty.
"Skittery?" came Snitch's voice as he opened the door slowly. "What's up?"
"I'm sorry," I blurted out.
"About... It's not your fault, Skitts, I—."
"No," I said, shaking my head and inching closer to him. "Look, I... I know it's an odd time to be saying this, but... You should know the truth..."
"The truth? What are you talking—." Cutting him off mid-sentence, I pressed my lips to his softly, both our eyes fluttering closed, savoring the moment that felt just so... right.
When we finally broke the kiss, Snitch's arms were around my neck, mine around his waist. I watched as the sides of his mouth curled into a satisfied grin.
"I should go," I whispered. "It's getting really late, and we've got classes in the morning."
"Okay," Snitch replied, sighing happily. "You wanna grab lunch tomorrow, or something?"
I nodded, smiling and pressing my forehead to his, the tips of our noses brushing each other. "Of course. What were you thinking?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe Chinese food."
A/N: Well, what'd you think? 'Tis not my first slash, but it IS my first Snitch/Skitts slash. Whoo. I kinda like it, don't you?
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