Chapter 4: New Sparks
Written: March 22-3, 2005
Author: Mondie
Disclaimer: Newsies equal sign Disney's. Plot equal sign Mondie's.
Cowboy sat at his desk, his eyes running over the lines of his book without his brain comprehending a single thought. He had the only single in the house, and while this usually was quite all right by him, at times it got really lonely. Loneliness was the only reason that his door was open just now, but the ruckus his brothers were making was distracting, not comforting, him. He could hear Snitch and Swifty having a race in the hallway, shrieking at the top of their lungs. Racetrack and David were arguing in their room with the door open, too. Pie Eater, who had taken to walking around in a beekeeper's hat for the past couple of days since Skittery had let butterflies loose in the house, was hollering about there being insect eggs in his shoes. Somebody else had apparently taken up tap-dancing and was practicing in the kitchen, because the linoleum was the only surface in the house Cowboy could think of that would produce such a loud sound from stomping. He was so distracted by the not-quite-coordinated clacking sounds that he didn't notice some of the other background noise was gone until there was a knock on his doorframe.
He looked up quickly from his book, glad that it had at least appeared like he was scholarly. The smile he forced soon became relaxed, as he saw who his visitor was. "Dave. Hey."
David gave a little smile back as he walked through the open door, but shut it behind him. "Jack, can we talk?"
Cowboy knew it was serious if David was using his real name. "Sure," he answered immediately, closing his book and setting it on top of his bookshelf before swiveling around in his chair. David had sat down gingerly on Cowboy's bed – thankfully he had been bored enough that morning to make it – and was looking forlorn. "What's wrong? Racetrack being an asshole again?" Chuckling gently, Cowboy smiled benevolently at David. "Want me to go talk to him and tell him to tone it down?"
"No, it's not Race. I mean, he is being an asshole, and annoying as hell, but… when isn't he?" David was picking at Cowboy's bedspread. "It's not about him this time."
Cowboy leaned forward and rested his elbow on his leg, and his chin in his hand. He and David had gotten pretty close this year, since David and Racetrack had started rooming together. Cowboy was the only person who could rein in Racetrack when he went over the top. David had come to him many times asking him to go talk to his impossible roommate, and they had happened upon a few real conversations in the process. But David had never sought him out specifically to talk about another problem, R.A. or not.
Cowboy suddenly felt privileged.
David stopped picking at the bedspread and turned to look Cowboy straight in the eyes. "It's just…" He stopped, and looked away. Gathering his courage again by staring at the potted plants in Cowboy's window, he turned back again. "I mean, he…" Cowboy's gentle eyes scared him again. Heaving a sigh, he pushed himself off the bed. "Never mind, this is stupid."
Cowboy stood up too, and pushed him back on the bed. "Sit. Talk. C'mon, Dave."
David smiled at him suddenly. "You're the only person I've ever met who calls me Dave, you know that?"
"Really? That's weird, 'cause… you just seem like a Dave."
"My family still calls me by my full name. Mush calls me Davey, but… yeah, you and he are the only ones who have nicknames for me." He looked down at his hands. "I like it."
"So what's going on?" Cowboy asked. "You can tell me, Dave. I'm not a gossip queen, here."
David nodded. "I know. It's just… it's really stupid. And I know it's stupid, and that's the problem."
"You aren't failing or anything, are you?" Cowboy asked.
A scoff from David for that. "Are you serious? I'm getting straight A's. Don't tell Racetrack, he'll never stop making fun of me. But no, it's not my grades."
"You're getting straight A's? Seriously?" Cowboy sounded incredulous. "You wanna write some of my papers for me then?"
"No, actually, I don't," David laughed. Staring over at Cowboy with his bright blue eyes, he seemed to shrink suddenly. "…Cowboy, I… I like somebody."
Cowboy felt his heart speed up, but he tried to make it be quiet. "Really, Dave? …Is this your problem?"
"Yes."
Seeming puzzled, Cowboy moved from his chair to the bed beside David. "But why is this a problem, exactly?"
David glared at him. "Because this is the worst thing to happen to me since coming to college! A, I don't have time to spend mooning over some… some boy. B, if Racetrack ever finds out, he will never let me live it down. C, I've gone this far in my college education without getting a crush on anyone, why does it have to happen when I'm happily stable in my classes? D… D, it's … oh, God, Cowboy. It's Mush. I like Mush. Mush!" Letting out a dramatic wail, he flung himself backward on the bed and cracked his head, rather hard, on the wall.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Mush? Mush Meyers Mush?" Cowboy clarified.
David stared at him. "How many Mushs do you know, Cowboy?" He sat back up, rubbing the back of his head. "Ow," he muttered.
"It's just… well, Dave, to be honest, I never really saw you as much of a bodybuilder fan," Cowboy answered, picking his words carefully.
"Way to state the obvious," David answered, rolling his eyes. "It's not because of his body, Cowboy. It's because of the way he treats me, how he's so friendly and nice and… oh, God, make it stop!"
"You're right, Racetrack would make fun of you if he knew," Cowboy said thoughtfully.
David looked over at him. "Cowboy, how do I make myself not like him? I never let myself like him before because… well, he and Blink were just so perfect together, you know? But ever since they broke up… God, this is stupid, but my brain decided that if he and Blink weren't together anymore, there was… a chance for me… I guess." Mortified, he buried his face in his arms. "Please, please don't breathe a word of this to anyone."
Cowboy extended a caring arm and put it across David's shoulders. "I wouldn't dream of it, Dave," he answered. "Mush would be lucky to date you. Seriously."
David looked at him with doubt written all over his face. "That's really nice of you to say, but please, Jack." Cowboy noted with more than a little twinge of pleasure that David was back to using his real name. "I mean, Blink's really attractive. Skittery's really attractive and has money. What do I have? Nothing. Good grades. Nobody wants to date someone for their grades."
"Hey, hey," Cowboy broke in. "Don't do that, Dave. You're really attractive too, ya know." David sniffed in disagreement. "You got those curls. And your eyes, they're real blue and pretty. Your smile too, even though I can't see it right now 'cause you're too busy pouting, but I know from the past that your smile's pretty killer too."
David smiled a little, but then shook his head. "And I've got the wiry body of a scarecrow, and my veins show in my feet and it's gross, and I already have wrinkles at the corners of my eyes—"
"Laugh lines, Dave. Those are attractive, too." Cowboy kept his arm around David's shoulders and shook them gently. "Face it, kiddo, you're a cutie."
"I am not," David insisted, though a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Listen, Jack. You gotta help me get over Mush. Somehow."
Cowboy immediately tried to shut down his brain before it came up with about thirty ways to "make David get over Mush," none of which were slightly innocent. "How do I do that, Dave?"
David shrugged. "I dunno. But if you notice me like, staring rapturously at him at dinner or anything, make sure to kick me. If anyone found out, I would die. Just die."
Cowboy nodded. "I can do that."
David smiled, and seemed relieved. "Thanks, Jack. You're the only person I would trust with this, you know." He got up and walked out the door, his stride a lot surer than when he came in. Cowboy hadn't realized he had been holding in his breath, but it came out as a giant exhale and he cradled his forehead in his hands.
"Ohhhh boy," he breathed to himself.
David stuck his head back in the door. "By the way, Chocolate's back from that funeral or whatever he went home for. Just thought you should know. You know, as president or whatever."
"And that would explain the tap-dancing," Cowboy answered, snapping his head up and plastering on a giant smile. "Thanks, Dave."
David smiled and ducked back out of the room. Cowboy punched his mattress in frustration, then got up and walked out of the door to go welcome Chocolate back.
"My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R. My bologna has a second name, it's M-A-Y-E-R. And if you ask me why, I'll say—"
Dutchy smacked Snipeshooter upside the head. "Shut up, Freshman. …Don't you live in a dorm, anyway? Why are you always here?" He turned to Specs. "Why is he always here?"
Snipeshooter smiled. "Because I like my brothers more than my hallmates, that's why."
"Yeah, well, Boots is a member of the frat too, but he stays in his dorm like a good ickle freshman," Bumlets pointed out. "Same for Grouch."
"Oh, I don't know how much longer Grouch will be in the frat," Snipeshooter said cheerfully. "Word on the street is that he's failing all of his courses. Oscar Delancey will most likely fail out of college his freshman year."
"What?" Cowboy asked. "He didn't tell me."
Snipeshooter shrugged. "I think he's in denial. Say, if he fails out, does that mean I'll have a better chance of getting a single next year here in the house?"
Bumlets burst into laughter. "Yeah, right, Snipe. You'll only be a sophomore. The seniors will have any singles."
Chocolate grinned. "Speaking of rooms, are we gonna room together next year again, Bumlets?"
Bumlets smiled. "Sure thing. You're so much better than the roommate I had freshman year."
"Hey!" Itey yelled from the kitchen. "I heard that! And I was a good roommate! I'm the one who convinced you to pledge Lambda, if I'm not mistaken." He stuck his tongue out, even though Bumlets had his back to the kitchen and couldn't see it.
"You're also the one who left his dirty, smelly, disgusting clothing all over the room, if I'm not mistaken," Bumlets called back.
"Bite me!" Itey yelled.
"I'll leave that to Snitch."
Chocolate sighed. "Oh, I've missed you guys."
"I don't know why you would," Cowboy answered, coming down the stairs. "Hey, Chocolate. Good to have you back."
Chocolate stood up and they gave each other friendly hugs. "Thanks, Cowboy. A week without you guys was like cutting off my oxygen. I just knew I was missing everything." Rubbing his hands together, he sat back down on the couch between Snipeshooter and Bumlets. "So what did I miss?"
"The break-up of the century," Snipeshooter said eagerly. "Mush cheated on Blink."
Chocolate burst into laughter. "Yeah, right. What did I really miss?"
Bumlets suddenly elbowed him. Mush was coming down the stairs. All conversations stopped as he wandered through the living room and into the kitchen, opened the fridge, got out a Diet Pepsi, and wandered back to the stairs. Halting on the second step, he turned back around. "You all can talk about me again," he told them. His eyes were bloodshot. He turned and trudged back upstairs.
Chocolate's eyes were wide. "…Holy crap."
Everyone else merely nodded. He scratched at his head. "Well. That's… wow."
"I think this is my cue to go check on my roommate," Pie Eater said, standing up from the poker game at the kitchen table.
"We're in the middle of a game!" Racetrack yelled. "You can't just leave!"
"Itey gets my chips," Pie Eater said, and ignored the following indignant squawk from Racetrack. Adjusting his beekeeper hat, he headed upstairs.
Mush had pulled the curtains closed, and his computer was playing Savage Garden while he softly hummed along, hugging his teddy bear and crying whenever the urge hit him.
Pie Eater paused in the doorway, stifling a sigh. "All right," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. "Mush, you've only left the house to go to the gym for the past… like… too many days."
"Four," Mush supplied.
"Yeah. That."
Mush sighed. "Just leave me alone, Pie."
Pie Eater crossed to the single large window in the room, pulling the curtains apart. Sunlight flooded the room, and Mush cringed away from it, burying himself in his blanket. Pie Eater then marched to Mush's desk and stopped the Savage Garden. Searching Mush's iTunes library, he noticed a playlist entitled "Can't Stop Shaking My Ass." Starting it, he was relieved when the first song was Beyoncé. Mush let out a tortured scream but pushed back his covers and stood up. "I hate you," he said, as he began dancing around the room.
Pie Eater had to laugh at the sight of Mush and his teddy bear dancing together. Mush glared. "Stop laughing." Pie Eater only laughed harder, and then Mush found the corners of his mouth lifting, and soon they were both laughing so hard that they drowned out Beyoncé and Mush could collapse back on his bed. Pie Eater crumbled to the floor, holding his sides. As their laughter calmed down to a few giggles and Beyoncé began singing through, Mush stood back up and begged, "Push the arrow button! Next song! Hurry!"
Pie Eater struggled to his feet and complied. Unfortunately, the next song was Beyoncé as well. The two burst into laughter again until Pie could compose himself enough to push "next" again, and it turned to the much safer "Let's Dance" by David Bowie.
The two sat down on Mush's bed, breathless. Pie Eater gave Mush an amused smile. "It's nice to see you smile again," he said, hoping that calling attention to it wouldn't make it disappear.
Mush cuddled with his teddy bear. "I just… I don't know what to do," he admitted. He looked up at Pie Eater. "Can't we just go back to that frat meeting before the auction and I can pummel Crutchy for signing us up for it and then get out of doing it?"
Pie Eater laughed. "I would if I could."
Mush thought for a minute. "…Horrible as it is, I don't know that I would."
"Come again?" Pie Eater said. "It sounded to me like you just said you wouldn't go back to being patched-up-happy with Blink again."
Mush shrugged. "I… I just… Oh, it's too complicated to explain. I don't even know what I'm saying."
Pie Eater leaned over and grabbed his teddy bear. "Spill, Mush. Or I'm turning Beyoncé back on."
With a heavy sigh, Mush turned and buried his face in his blanket. "Just… give me time to figure it out first, okay? I'll tell you as soon as I come to any conclusion at all, I swear." He turned and peeked a look at his roommate, who was watching him with a frown. "I'm seriously not as emo as I seem. I promise. I'm just… thinking. A lot."
"And not going to class, and not doing homework," Pie Eater said, his voice full of doubt. "Mush, I'm worried about you. You're not allowed to fail out. I mean, I know that me graduating this year and leaving you behind is causing you all kinds of stress…"
Rolling his eyes, Mush sat up and punched Pie Eater in the shoulder before grabbing back his teddy bear. "Leave me alone with my sorrow." When Pie Eater stared at him, he shook his head. "I'm joking, Pie. But seriously, you don't need to baby-sit me. I'm not gonna overdose on pain killers or anything."
"Will you go to class tomorrow?" Pie Eater asked, in an outstanding impression of his own mother.
"Yes," Mush answered, sounding pained. "Now leave me alone to sing Savage Garden and drink Diet Pepsi."
"If that isn't a soft drink commercial right there, I don't know what is," Pie said, standing up. "Seriously, though, Mush… I want you to be able to talk to me. You can trust me, you know."
"I know," Mush said. "And thanks for that, Pie."
Pie Eater smiled. "Did we just have a bonding moment?"
"I think we did. We'd better cut it out before we start actually liking each other," Mush said, in a deadpan.
Pie Eater ruffled his curls. "You're a good kid, Mush." He headed out of the room before Mush could throw his teddy bear at him for messing up his hair.
David's plan of having Cowboy kick him whenever he felt he was staring too much at Mush worked. It worked a little too well, in fact.
"Cowboy. Look at my shin," he whined, opening Cowboy's door and walking in late that night. "It's purple."
Cowboy looked up from a book that he was highlighting every other line in, just to keep himself occupied. "So it is. Kinda pretty, ain't it?" He smiled, then dropped the smile, skipped over a sentence, and began highlighting the next one.
"…Is that an actual quote you're highlighting? 'Cause if it is… your book must be full of interesting quotes."
Cowboy's eyes drifted back to David's again. "I feel that the color yellow will stimulate me to actually read it, rather than just stare at it like I've been doing all day."
"Oh." David stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Well, I just wanted to let you know that your kicking really, really hurts."
So does your staring at him, Cowboy shot back mentally, but outwardly he just smiled. "Sorry, Dave. I really didn't mean to be so violent." He leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Wanna watch a movie or something?"
David looked back at him suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be doing your homework?" he chastened. "You're so close to graduating, Cowboy. You should get your reading done."
Cowboy shrugged. "I'm in easy courses right now, Dave. My professors couldn't care less about the work I do or don't do." He shut his book and recapped his highlighter, opening his desk drawer and dropping both inside. "Out of sight, out of mind. C'mon, let's do something that isn't work."
"I have a big paper due next week—" David started, then trailed off when Cowboy looked amused at his scholarliness. He sighed. "Okay, okay. Fine. What movie?" He moved to Cowboy's bed and dropped onto it, defeated.
Cowboy pulled out his secret weapon. "Mask of Zorro," he answered, grabbing the DVD from his shelf and waving it in front of David.
"Oh-my-God-that's-my-favorite-movie-how-did-you-know?" David asked, without pausing or breathing between his words.
"I have my sources," Cowboy answered deviously, mentally thanking Racetrack for being the most talkative person on the planet who happened to like making fun of his roommate's Antonio Banderas obsession. "So is that a yes?"
David was practically bouncing up and down. "You are my absolute hero, Jack Kelly!" he declared. "Yes, yes, yes! Put it on!" He grinned in anticipation. "I could just kiss you. Nobody else in this house understands the hotness of Antonio!"
Cowboy laughed and put the DVD in the player, then crossed to the bed and sat gingerly next to David.
"Wanna spoon?" David asked. "I call little."
Dying inside, Cowboy merely situated himself so that his body curved in a question mark matching up to David's body. David grabbed hold of Cowboy's arm and wound it over his own chest. "That's better," he said happily. "A hot man on the screen in front of me, and a hot man behind me." He turned his head a little so that Jack could see him wink. "I promise I won't hit on you, though. Not once Antonio is on screen!" He laughed merrily, and Cowboy had no choice but to join in.
Cowboy began watching the movie angsting over David's comments, but soon felt his anger dissolve away, if only because he was spooning with the boy he had fallen for long ago. He tightened his grip across David's chest, and David nestled back against him more firmly in response. Feeling content, Cowboy let himself enjoy the moment just for itself.
"Where the hell is my roommate?"
Swifty looked up from the PlayStation 2 game he was playing with Dutchy. "When have you ever cared where David was before, Race?"
Racetrack shrugged. The house was dark and silent other than the two playing video games in the living room, and so he had come to gripe to them while wearing his red plaid pajamas and rubbing his hair, already tousled from tossing and turning. "I can't sleep in that room by myself," he answered testily. "There are ghosts."
"So go call your little lover," Dutchy suggested. "I haven't seen David for hours."
"That's what's bothering me," Racetrack exploded. "It's not like David to just run off. Usually he leaves me at least three notes, put in the places he thinks I'm most likely to see." He fell quiet, then said in a tiny voice, "We fought today. I think I might've really made him mad."
"You didn't set his calculus homework on fire again, did you?" Swifty asked. "'Cause it took him weeks to forgive you for that one."
"Or throw out all of his underwear again? He nearly killed you that time," Dutchy added.
"Or fill his shoes with sand again?"
"Or put centipedes in his desk again?"
"Or glue all of the items on top of his desk to the desk again?"
"Or use up all of his printing allowance on fliers that had his picture and said 'Ask me about the time I slept with the president of the college' and post them all over campus again?"
"Or do something equal to the time you called his house and told his mother that her son was a big flaming homosexual when he hadn't come out of the closet yet?"
"Or—"
"We get the idea," Racetrack shouted. "Okay, so I'm a bad roommate, are you happy now?"
They both shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me if you suck as a roommate," Dutchy said. "Not like I'm ever gonna have to have the experience of living with you."
At that, Swifty looked a little sad. "I'm gonna miss you and Specs next year, Dutch. We have a lot of fun in the triple, don't we?"
Dutchy grinned wickedly, a smile meant for some private joke that Racetrack wasn't privileged enough to know about. Besides the three who lived there, the triple was off-limits. Not even Cowboy knew what went on there, although interesting sounds were almost always issuing forth. "Hell yeah, we do!"
"If I have to room with Racetrack, I'll kill myself," Swifty continued.
"Hello. Right here," Racetrack said angrily. "Anyhow. …So neither of you have seen David?"
"Nope," they answered in unison. Dutchy added, "We've been down here since dinner. He didn't leave, we'd have seen him do it. He's gotta be around here somewhere."
Racetrack rolled his eyes. "It's three in the morning, you idiots. I don't think he's off having a tea party with Crutchy or anything."
"You could go ask Cowboy, isn't it his job as R.A. to keep us all in line or whatever?" Swifty suggested. He gave a loud cheer as his character beat Dutchy's. "Ha! Take that, blond scum!"
"…Did you just call me scum?"
"Maybe. What're you gonna do about it, huh?"
Racetrack left them behind and climbed back up the stairs. He didn't really want to bug Cowboy at three in the morning, but he didn't want to sleep alone with the ghosts, either. Walking lightly down the hall and flipping on the light, he crept to Cowboy's room and eased the door open. He was about to whisper Cowboy's name when the hall light lit up the room enough for him to make out David. Sleeping on Cowboy's bed. With Cowboy's arms wound around him. The DVD menu was playing on repeat, so Racetrack pressed the power button on the TV to turn it off. The sudden silence in the room made David shift, turning from facing the TV to facing Cowboy. Cowboy's arms tightened around David in his sleep. Racetrack wasn't sure whether to laugh or melt.
He chose to melt. He decided that the only reason he was letting them off the hook for this cuteness was because it was so late and he was so loopy from lack of sleep.
He headed into Bumlets and Chocolate's room, figuring they wouldn't care if he crashed on their futon. With other people in the room beside him, he could officially sleep well.
And it was mandatory that he get some sleep in, if he was going to be alert enough to mock Cowboy and David mercilessly the next morning.
Shoutouts!
Checkmate: Yeah, the Skush was supposed to be awkward last chapter, because Skittery is completely not cooperating with my authoress genius. ;) Haha, he should start cooperating again soon. If not, I'll be most displeased with him. Thanks for the review!
Stage: Haha, I rock at making Specs do things he just does not want to. :D But I can totally see him saying in this dry tone, "Gag me with a spoon." With this glare. And it is most amusing. -loves back!- Teh Racetrack!Outfit sounds fantastic! Aha.
Charlie Bird: The angsting has to happen, unfortunately. I'm telling you, Skush just aren't cooperating with me. It's most aggravating. And Pieddy –is- hot, and you must go write me some because you said you would. –glare!- Tis unfair to dangle that over me. Just so you know. :P
XBeLLaViTaX: Huh. Who knew. The world's a funny place, Metro dance clubs popping up all over the place. :D The Skush should reshow itself, hopefully soon, and much cuter, as well. –glares at Skush, who whistle innocently and pretend like they're working with, not against, Mondie- Hehe, thanks for the review!
Erin Go Bragh: We should get on Lutells' case to update WtTR, shouldn't we? Silly girl, not updating her band fics. -gives BACK the sequin-wearing newsie- You don't have to date him, you can just put him on a shelf and let him walk around as if he were one of the Quidditch figurines from HP. –nods- Haha, they always played "Cotton-Eyed Joe" at our high school dances. And "Baby Got Back." And the dance remix of the movie soundtrack from Grease. And the electric slide. …Yes, high school was fun. Aha! Thanks for the lovely review. :)
Strawberri Shake: SpRace is indeed hot. –nods in agreement- And I really like my Racetrack in this fic, I haven't used him in a while and it makes me happy to make him loud and abnormal and flaming. Aha! Thanks for the review. :D I promise Skush will TRY and work out soon. If it doesn't, I will officially kill them. –nods threateningly at the characters-
Dreamer110: It's very loosely based on a frat on my campus, who aren't all gay but definitely have the most gay members (at least, ones that are out) in ratio to their straight members. They're my favorite frat, haha. They're also the music majors and the theatre guys. They make me happy. :D For some reason, I can totally see Sid running out a front door after someone throws butterflies at his head. Bumlets was Mush's original roommate, but it had to change after the phobia was introduced. Haha! And yes for the converted Skushers! Woo! Thanks for the review!
Pyromaniacal Llama: Haha, my characters make me laugh. :D Thanks for reviewing!
Omni: I'm so glad you like my flaming!newsies! Aha, it's always been my experience that the more gay guys in a room, the more the level of flaming increases. Strange phenomena. :D Woo for being twirled in circles! Hee. And yeah, Skitts isn't cooperating with me. I'm trying. It just isn't happening so much. He has promised to try and work more closely with me in the future, though, so we shall hold him to it. :D Thanks for the lovely (not cut off!) review:D
Studentnumber24601: -loves- Thanks for reviewing even though you hate my story! Aha. You're one of my very very favorites. –loves!-
Forgot to mention last chapter that Skitts' letting loose butterflies in Mush's room was hi-jacked from Toni Morrison's Sula, where Ajax does that for Sula in a briefly mentioned, offhand plot detail that I absolutely fell in love with. Also, Skittery has officially promised to work –with- me for the rest of the story.
And I have to share this too, because I find it strange. Weirdest exchange of the day:
MondieGoil
(3:07:44 PM): You! Online! loves!
RabidSlashFanboy (3:07:55
PM): ...
"RabidSlashFanboy" signed
off at 3:08:09 PM.
Twitchy Darling! What was –that- about!
Okay. That's all. Please review:D
