Disclaimer: I do not own "Newsies" or any of the genius associated to them. Disney owns them, no infringement intended. I am not making money from this in any way, I claim no rights to the characters mentioned from the movie, but I do claim the plot and the ideas surrounding this story. Don't steal, don't sue, and I'm sure we will all be grand friends.
A/N: I've been thinking of retiring from fanfiction writing after I finish the stories I've already started. I need to focus on school.
Warning: PG-13 (seduction, adult themes, sexual situations)
x.)
her kisses are all lion tamers&licorice
inexcusably insane(except for the entertainment value)&chewable
he keeps ones in his back pocket for a snack to share
laced fingers under tables(so 7th grade)
HE SAYS:
"see the lies in their smiles?"
she wonders if he saw hers
He is saying things, but he is drunk, and he has always said things when he was drunk. Red dirt from the Grand Canyon stains the soles of his shoes as it mixes with the sandy beach just like his words mix together in slurs and stutters. It's hard to listen to him like this because his dreams only grow bigger and his plans grander (tonight they're going to battle with the pirates that sound an awful lot like the fishermen from New Orleans but laced with the glitz of Las Vegas). Those plans, however, never look anything like loving her enough to stay grounded (he always wants to fly). He kisses her (she used to melt against him but now she wilts) and crows to the moon and any who will hear him (he's such a clever boy to get her to come from east to west). She is far past fighting him and he knows it (she'll do absolutely anything he wants her to do).
The words he says are more real and less rehearsed when he has a little liquor in his system (but that doesn't mean they don't hurt any less). His hands find her as they stumble past a bonfire where college students gyrate just for the sake of contact. He points at the foolish dancing and thinks himself so witty in his taunts. He calls them Indians and says they are his friends today, but tomorrow they might declare war just for something new to do (they've been fighting themselves for their whole lives). Though he's been in her most intimate places she blushes when he pulls her close in front of these people (he a bit of an exhibitionist when he's drunk). Over the crashing waves you can hear the desperation radiating from the crowd they've intruded (and she is adding to it with the way his fingers insinuated themselves under her shirt).
The warmth of his body escapes her for a moment as he runs into the crowd of strangers (she'll never understand why he can't be happy staying in one place) and she watches him. They've come as far west as his car can take them but she's given up on thinking that they will ever stay in one place long enough to call it a home (it's awfully hard to play house when you haven't a house to keep). It is coming clear that his home is wherever he can find an idea to put onto paper (be it word pictures or actual pictures) and the rootless lifestyle is wearing thin for her. He may have lost his words but he's losing her little by little every day they drive.
Tonight fairies are flying around his head as he whoops and hollers with the rest in a celebration of just being alive. He hurries over to her and nearly breaks her in half when he tackles her to the sand (it looked like he was trying to fly but crashed into her instead). They both land with an unceremonious thump with him on top (he likes it better that way) and she can't find her breath anywhere (this time she doesn't appreciate him for taking it). For all the calm control he has when he is sober he has childlike exuberance when he is drunk. He grinds his hips into hers and she pushes at his shoulders (she's heard that sex on the beach isn't it is all it is cracked up to be). He picks them up and she tries to brush the wet sticky sand from her thighs (she has sand in places she never imagined possible).
She wants to go home (but someone has other ideas).
A girl approaches them with eyes like a tiger and lilies in her hair (she's pretty enough to be a princess). This dark princess noticed them across the fire and proposes things that don't make sense to the darling girl (but she understands the primal hunger in the girl's eyes). It shocks her when Boy Vagabond agrees and follows the dark princess to a room as sensual as she is (and of course she follows him – she wouldn't know where to go otherwise).
It starts slowly and she doesn't know how to respond to the different touches (but she sees the approval in the familiar eyes of Boy Vagabond and lets this Indian have her way). In the back of her mind she remembers words warning against this immorality and she tenses when the dark princess tries to find her kiss (she pretends to like it harder than she's ever pretended before now). She finds a pretend in that it is Boy Vagabond's touch straying past the boundaries on her body. The hands are as artistic as those of Boy Vagabonds', but softer, smaller, and everywhere on her darling body (just like the smell of lilies are everywhere in the air).
It is getting interesting when the dark princess licks a question into her mouth:
"What's your name?" Tiger eyes flash.
A breath.
A kiss.
A pause.
A reply:
"I don't know." (and it was the truth)
Boy Vagabond watched this and smiled.
A/N: Anyone picked up on the book I'm referencing through this piece? This chapter made it pretty obvious.