DISCLAIMER: Newsies is owned by Disney. Not us. *sigh* All OCs are ours, though.

Chapter 3: Dutchy's Day Off

The blond boy lying in a huge bed woke up and crawled out from underneath the blanket, trying not to wake his boyfriend. He stared out the window for a few minutes, thinking about nothing in particular. Arms wrapped around his waist, startling him, and lips kissed the side of his neck.

"Hey babe. Did you sleep okay last night?"

Dutchy turned around and was face to face with a brunette with wire glasses. He smiled and replied, "Yes, but I didn't get much of it last night, thanks to you!"

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!" Specs pulled Dutchy even closer to him and quickly kissed his lips.

"How could I not?" Dutchy smiled and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend of... Wow. Almost a whole year. He smiled fondly, remembering how they met.

Specs would go to Tibby's every Wednesday night three hours before closing, sit at the same table, and study and do homework until Songbird had to kick him out. One Wednesday, Dutchy showed up to pick her up after her shift, and saw that she was trying to kick someone out. The boy had fallen asleep on top of his books and was snoring softly.

"Hey Songbird," Dutchy called from across the restaurant, "who's that, your new boyfriend?"

The boy started to stir. He lifted his head up and wiped the side of his mouth. Dutchy couldn't stop staring at him. He was hot.

"No..." she replied.

The boy muttered something that sounded like, "You wish."

"Sure I do, hon. And the offer's still standing..." she joked. The boy chuckled and shook his head. She continued, "Well, in that case, oh, hell no he isn't. He's actually a huge pain in my ass," she said with a smile, "Hey, you two might along, seeing as you have that in common."

Both boys smiled at her. "Well, I don't know what you mean." He turned back to the boy, who was now packing up his books and papers. Dutchy held out his hand. "Hi," he said, "I'm Dutchy, and your glasses are askew." He reached out and straightened them. "I enjoy being a pain in her ass. It's extremely fun!"

The boy laughed and took Dutchy's outstretched hand and shook it. "I'm Specs. And Faye," he added without taking his eyes off the taller blond boy. "Songbird," he amended, "what are you talking about? You know you love me!"

She tried to glare at him, but her efforts failed because she started laughing when she noticed that they were still holding each others' hand, and Dutchy was staring back at Specs with an enamored expression. "Not when you always fall asleep and expect me to wake you up! And guys? You can let each other go now."

Dutchy blushed and tried to take his hand back, but Specs held on. He smiled at Dutchy, who felt like he was going to melt. It'd been a long time since he las felt that way.

"Umm..." she cleared her throat. "Alrighty then," Songbird said, clearly not expecting that to happen. "I'm going to go now. Dutchy, when you're done here, close up."

Dutchy barely registered what she had said. "Okay."

Specs threw a dazzling smile at her. "I think we are." He leaned down and whispered in Dutchy's ear, "I have an idea." Still holding Dutchy's hand, he grabbed his bag and pulled Dutchy out the door, leaving a somewhat bewildered Songbird in the doorway. Dutchy thought he heard her say," Good for you," but he wasn't sure, as he was very distracted at that moment.

The next morning, Dutchy woke up in his apartment, which was completely normal. What shocked him was the warmth that was up against his back. Dutchy turned over and saw Specs. He was so cute when he was asleep. Dutchy leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. "Morning."

Specs smiled back tiredly. "Mmhmm..." He pulled the blond closer, and kissed him. "Did you mean what you said last night? That you liked me?"

Dutchy blushed and nodded quickly.

Specs smiled triumphantly. "Do you like me enough to be my boyfriend?"

Dutchy laughed. "Well I think I like you way more than enough if I slept with you BEFORE our first date!"

Then it was Specs's turn to blush. "Yeah," he said, " I really like you, too."

Specs was the second person Dutchy had ever loved. His first love was Bumlets. They dated for about five months before they broke up. They broke up the first time because Bumlets had issues with commitment. He came back to Dutchy, though, and they were together for a while longer.

Then Bumlets met someone new. Someone different. Someone who wasn't expecting commitment. He forgot about Dutchy, which really was okay (after a while) because soon after their break up, he had found Specs. The best part of the situation was that they were still good friends. And Dutchy still had Specs.

"Hey, Dutchy? Are you there?"

Dutchy snapped back into his surroundings. "Oh yeah," he said.

Specs looked at him with a small, amused smile, pulling his boyfriend toward the unmade king size bed.

"Again?" Dutchy laughed.

Specs shrugged and stifled a yawn. "It's too early. We need sleep." He paused before asking, "What are you thinking about?"

Dutchy fell back onto the very comfortable bed, and pulled Specs on top of him with a kiss. "How we met."

Specs smiled, then thought for a minute. "Two weeks until our one year anniversary. Wow." He pushed himself off his boyfriend and lay on his back. He pulled Dutchy close and ran a finger absent-mindedly along Dutchy's arm. "This is the longest relationship I've ever been in," he confessed.

Dutchy kissed him softly on his cheek and told him softy, "Me too."

Specs turned onto his side, held his boyfriend close, and kissed the top of his head. "I really love you, you know."

Dutchy's smile widened, and he replied, "I love you, too."

For the rest of the morning, the two boys stayed entwined on the bed, content with just being in each other's arms, until Dutchy thought that he had to get ready for the lunch shift. He grudgingly left his boyfriend, and headed to his room.

"Wait a minute. Today's my day off!" Dutchy cried. He sprinted back into Specs's room and jumped on top of his boyfriend, who had gone back to bed.

"Hey!"

Ever since that first awkward day after Jack had moved in with the Jacobs siblings, when he had walked in on Jack and Sarah in a rather compromising position, David had taken to knocking loudly before entering their apartment.

Of course he still forgot on occasion, as he had on that particular day. "Erm..." David looked hastily away from his sister and best friend.

"Hey Davey," Jack said cheerfully, as if he wasn't currently bent over David's sister.

"Jack," Sarah hissed disapprovingly, grabbing a blanket to cover herself with, and scooting hastily away from him, as if that could stop David from figuring out what they'd been doing. "Sorry Davey," she added, standing up, and making her way to her room.

"So," David said, sarcastically, "do you guys do it on the couch often?"

"Naw," Jack grinned, "Only when Sarah's feeling kinky."

David grimaced, "Seriously Jack? That's my sister!"

Jack shrugged, "You asked."

"It was a rhetorical question," David rolled his eyes. Feelings of resentment spread through his body. He tried to ignore the fact that they were aimed more at Sarah than Jack.

"You eaten yet?" Jack asked, as he shamelessly walked into the room he and David shared, still naked.

David blushed, and turned away, "No," he said, more to the wall than to Jack, "I just got off work..." he glanced at his watch 12:30, "half an hour ago. I was going to take a shower, then grab something to eat before class."

"Oh yeah. You had the morning shift today, didn't you? How was that?" Jack called from their room.

"Not bad," David shrugged, "Morning shifts are always pretty quiet. Lucky isn't much of a morning person, so the only person to talk to really is Racetrack."

"Listen," Jack said, as he left the room, fully dressed, "I need to be heading down to Tibby's soon anyways, I told Medda I'd be there by one. So why don't you shower and stuff real quick, and we can get lunch there, before you go to class?"

"Jack I just came from there," David huffed, but he didn't really mind.

"Come on Davey. It'll be my treat? To make up for..." Jack trailed off, and glanced over at Sarah's room, and grinned.

David rolled his eyes, "Fine."

Tibby's was as crowded as ever, particularly since the boys had showed up around the usual lunch rush hour. David halfheartedly glared at Jack, "So how exactly am I supposed to get lunch before class if we don't have anywhere to sit?"

"Don't worry Davey," Jack grinned, "I gots connections, 'member?" Jack paused to think for a moment, then laughed, "You've got connections too," he pointed out.

As if to prove Jack's point, Songbird hurried up to them at that moment, "Back so soon Davey," she said cheerily, "You just left an hour ago!"

"Yeah well Jack owes me one," David glanced over at Jack who gave an innocent grin.

Songbird laughed, "Well we're pretty full right now," she glanced around, "You guys can head back to the kitchen if you want. I'm sure Race can fix you up with something."

"Will do, Songbird," Jack ruffled her hair, and moved towards the kitchen.

Songbird sent a nasty look in Jack's direction, and gave David a quick hug, "I've gotta get back to work. I'll talk to you later," she promised.

David returned Songbird's hug, then followed Jack to the kitchen.

When he got there, he found Jack talking, or rather pleading with, Racetrack. "Come on, buddy," he said, "You owe me!"

"Funny, Cowboy," Racetrack smirked, "I don't recall owing you anything."

"Come on Race, just give us some food," Jack said.

"I see why you offered to treat now," David said from the entrance.

Jack jumped, "Oh... hiya Dave," he said, a little guiltily.

"Hey there, Dave," Racetrack said.

"Hey Race," David sighed. He checked his watch. "Look, I'm running way behind, and I have about five minutes to eat before I have to run to class so I'm not late, and I didn't bring my wallet, since I was told that lunch was on somebody else today," David gave Jack a pointed look, "I'll pay you back tomorrow, but for now can I just have some food?"

"Naw," Racetrack said as he began to pile a plate with food, "You can have it free Dave, no one'll miss it."

"Hey!" Jack said, "Why does he get free food just like that! I'm your boss!"

"Well, Jacky boy," Racetrack started, "It might because Dave here asked real nicely, and is not under the false impression that he is my boss." Race seemed to notice Jack's crestfallen expression, because he shook his head and prepared another plate. "Just this once Cowboy," Racetrack warned, "'Cause I'm feeling nice. You two can eat out back, since the tables are full, and I don't want to have to look at Jack's ugly mug while I'm cooking." The words would have been mean if not for the teasing grin Racetrack shot at Jack.

"Alright," Jack said as he accepted his plate, "We'll eat out back."

David followed Jack out the back door of the kitchen into the alleyway. It smelled of trash, since the restaurant's dumpster was right next to the door, and the ground was far from comfortable. It wasn't really what David had had in mind when he'd decided to grab lunch before his lit class, but the food was good and...

David glanced over at Jack from the corner of his eyes. Jack was already shoving the food Race had given him into his mouth at record speeds. He smiled a little at the sight. It was just so Jack.

Maybe it wasn't really what he'd had in mind for lunch, but because it was with Jack, the stench and lack of comfortable seating just might have been was worth it.

"Uncle, why are we here?" Morris asked.

"Because the boss asked for you to specifically. Now shut up and don't talk unless he talks directly to you."

The Delancey brothers looked at each other, then back to their uncle and nodded.

"Good."

He lead them to a large wooden door and pushed it open. The wood creaked and revealed an ornately decorated office, complete with two desks, numerous bookshelves, and a pool table. An older man with a scraggly brown beard sat at the bigger desk, using a good magnifying glass to read the papers strewn about.

"Tibby's restaurant voted number one in Manhattan," the man said in an annoyed tone. Oscar looked down at the placard on the desk. J. Pulitzer.

Pulitzer continued, "Gentlemen, this is the third year in a row that those amateurs have beaten us out of that title. We need to do something drastic in order to reclaim that title as our own. Mr. Wiesel, I want you and the boys to come up with a..." He made a weird signal, circling the sides of his head with his hands. "A plan."

Wiesel stepped forward timidly. "I think, sir, that the problem is the staff. The people at Tibby's are all best friends, and the customers love that. The food is pretty good, too." Oscar had never seen his uncle timidly do anything, and he had to bite his cheek to stop laughing.

Pulitzer turned away from them. "Then make them hate each other. As soon as possible."

Wiesel pointed at the door, and Oscar and Morris walked out, with the uncle behind them.

"Oscar, didn't you make friends with one of the girls?" Morris said with a devious smile

Oscar returned his smile with an even bigger, even more evil one. "You're right. Abby. She did like me. It's such a shame that the others absolutely hate me."

Wiesel grabbed his shoulder. "That could work."

"Where's the damn binder?" the short Italian boy said, looking around the changing room. He opened his locker and stood on his tiptoes to look at the top shelf. He heard someone scoff, and he turned around quickly. Spot Conlon was leaning against the doorframe, smirking.

"Need some help?" he asked patronizingly.

"Vaffanculo," Race told him.

"You fuck off," Spot retorted.

"I'm shocked," Race said sarcastically, "when did you learn Italian?"

"I didn't. You say that to me so much, I decided to look it up." His smirk grew.

"Well, good for you. Does Medda know you're not working?"

Spot shrugged. "It's my break."

"I see."

Race turned back to his locker as Spot sat down in front of his and pulled out a notebook and pen. "What are you writing?" he asked Spot.

Race watched Spot tap the pages with his pen. Hesitantly, he replied, "Short stories, mostly. Poems, too. None of it is really good."

"Let me see," he demanded.

"What the hell for?" Race didn't answer him. Instead, he looked at Spot expectantly. He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Okay, but can you not read it right now?"

Race nodded as Spot handed him the notebook. He sat down next to him on the couch. "Well, that was easier than I thought."

Spot laughed and moved to get it back, and Race promptly smacked his hand away.

"Nuh uh." They were silent for a moment. "So, Medda's your aunt, right?"

Spot scoffed again. "Yeah. What's your point?"

"Whoa. Nothing, just asking."

The two of them sat there for a few minutes without saying a thing.

Then Spot cleared his throat and stood up. "Well, I should get back to work."

"Yeah. I'll, uh, give you your notebook back tomorrow," Race replied. He looked into Spot's blue-gray eyes and half-smiled. "See ya."

Spot, surprisingly, smiled back. "See ya."

The door swung open. "Hey Spot, your break is over," Bumlets told him. "Oh, hey, Race!"

Race grinned and went to his boyfriend. "Ciao, amichetto." He gave Bumlets a quick kiss as Spot walked out the door, accidentally hitting Bumlets with his shoulder on the way out.

"Ow..." Bumlets rubbed his shoulder and rolled it backwards. "For a skinny shrimp, he can hit hard."

"Aww... Did big, mean Spot hoit you, widdle Bumwets?" Race teased.

Bumlets punched him gently on the shoulder. "Ah, shut up!"

Race grabbed his boyfriend and kissed him again. "Get back to work," he murmured in the Latino boy's ear.

Bumlets laughed and walked out the door. "Did you ever find your binder?"

Race's eyes widened. "How did you-?"

Bumlets turned back to him, flashed a dazzling smile, then ran to the kitchen, laughing as his boyfriend chased after him.

"Race, what the hell?" Sarah said in a shrill voice. "Get out of here, now!"

The two boys laughed at her and ran out of the kitchen. They ended up back in the changing room, on the couch, Race pinning his boyfriend to the cushions. He kissed him gently, then bit his lower lip, then pulled away. Bumlets made a small noise in protest.

"Where the hell is my binder?"

"Ask me later, when I'm not working!"

Race laughed, because Bumlets was definitely not working at the moment.

"Cazzo."

"Ooh, Italian. That's incredibly hot."

"Oh yeah?"

There was a knock on the door.

"Boys, get out of there now! I don't want to pay for a new couch!"

"Sorry Medda!" the boys said in unison.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

S: Yay! Another chapter! I'm so happy!

C: Once again, you have amazed me with your awesome writing skills, S.

S: Thanks! Yours, of course, was even more amazing than before! I'm hyper... C has already gone to bed, so I'm here by myself. Please note that any Italian that is incorrect is completely my fault. I only know Spanish and English, so I tried my best with Google Translate. Enjoy! No one has reviewed yet (at the time this was written)... That makes me, and most likely C, very sad. :( Oh well. At least we had writer!Spot to keep us company. Please review, though. Please.

C: Well apparently when I'm not around S rambles. A lot. I feel special. Anyways, see you all next chapter, and REVIEW please!