•Binding• •A Newsies Fanfic•

•Bullets and Bubbles•

(I tend to switch povs during scenes so please don't get mad)

Flames sat up, looking down to see they managed to fall asleep in their red flannel and work clothes. 'That takes care of things then.'

They swung their legs off the bottom bunk, stretching.

Paint grunted, blinking away the morning grogginess slowly. 'Nother day of sellin', here we go.'

"Morningggg!" Flames smiled, bouncing off the bed and slapping on their hat. They're one of the only Newsie in the lodge who could ever be happy mornings.

"Flames, give us one mornin' without you yellin'." Paint turned over in their bunk.

"Not a chance Painty." They quietly grabbed Paint's color-splashed news bag, running downstairs.

Paint sighed, sitting up and hopping down from their bunk. They grabbed their glasses and pulled on the only flannel they had. They ended by putting on their shoes before reaching for their bag.

Lo and behold, it was gone.

"TUMBLER! GIVE ME MEH' SHOE!" Tumbler came racing down the bunk room, a one shoe'd Smokes hot on his tail while Hotshot followed, trying to help.

Other Newsies were raggedly beginning to start their day.

Paint grabbed their hat, which was paint stained like all their other clothes, and headed downstairs to find Flames.

Flames perched on a shelf, spinning Paint's bag around their wrist, 'They're gonna kill me.' They chuckled, watching Newsies tiredly go about their days.

They saw Paint marching down the stairs, playfully fuming, "Flames!" Paint stood at the bottom of the steps, staring right at Flames.

"Hmmmmm?" Flames crouched at the third shelf up, smirking.

Some Newsies rolled their eyes, it's a daily occurrence that Flames would steal something from Paint and just wait on the shelf for them.

"You'se are very dead today Flames." They huffed, making their way towards the shelf.

"Oh am I?"

"Ye'."

Paint pulled themself onto the shelf. They were pretty small for their age, shorter than Spot himself, light too. They looked sick, probably were, it made for good selling at least.

Flames swung their legs over the edge, preparing to make a run for it.

"Give it back."

Second shelf

"Hmmmm." Paint was almost on the third shelf, "Nah'" Flames pushed off the shelf, racing out into the docks.

"Dang it Flames!" Paint puffed out their cheeks and bounced down, running after the tall Newsie.

They made it halfway down the docks before collapsing on the ground, shaking a fist in the air, "I'll get you next time!"

"Sure you will!" Flames laugh, jogging back to Paint and dropping the bag on their face.

"You'se like a long bullet Flames, fast and tall." Paint stood up, brushing off some dust.

They were right, Flames was very tall compared to Paint, fast too.

They had light tan skin and dirty blonde hair that was cut very short too.

"Well you look like a little bubble." Flames patted Paint on the head, chuckling.

"A bubble that's boutta' pop." They slapped Flames on the arm, growling slightly.

"What eva' helps ya' sleep."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Flames smirked, towering over Paint as the short Newsie fumed.

"Now kiss 'em!"

"Ace!" Spot's second and a giant flirt, he always tries to set up Flames and Paint but they both agreed they were friends and friends alone.

"Don't kill your future leader!" Spot walked past, swinging his pimp cane while smirking.

Spot Conlon, you should know him, if you don't, he's the leader of Brooklyn and rather short, some of the other Burroughs think he's weak because of that but Brooklyn would gladly soak 'em for insultin' Spot.

The work bell rang, spooking Paint a bit but they quickly brushed it off.

Paint and Flames headed down with other Newsies to the Distribution Center to buy papes.

They waiting in the back while higher ranking Newsies, and Tumbler, got their papes first.

"Mornin' Joey." Paint gave smile to the worker handing out papers. "How many today, Paint?"

"How's about forty?" They set down two dimes. "Alrighty then." He handed them forty and they walked down to the docks.

"I'll takes forty too," Flames exchanged two dimes for the papes.

"Cya' Joey!" They walked down to Paint, flipping through the pape, "Anythin' good?"

"Hmm? Oh, fire downtown and somes bad sickness hitting Bronx, atleast ten deaths on both."

Flames perked up at the mention of fire, "I'll takes the fire story." "Ok."

"How's about we visit the races?"

"Sure, there's some art galleries near there too." Paint closed their paper, stuffing it in their bag with the rest.

"Course you'se want to go there," Flame laughed, putting away their paper.

"Guilty as charged." Paint smiled as they set off to the races.

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Thanks for reading! This is my first official book I'm writing but it's not entirely mine.

Thank you to @-StrawberryDino- for helping me create this story, all credits to you for the idea, Flames, and story plot!

Please leave a comment if I get something wrong, I'd love to hear feedback!