•Binding• •A Newsies Fanfic•

•Fires and Bronx•

‼️TW! Homophobia!

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Paint and Flames stood by the entrance to Sheepshead, occasionally yelling out a headline or two.

"Flames! Paint!" Race came running towards them.

"Win a bet Racer?" Flames motioned to the jingling in his pocket.

"How ya' know?"

"Magic." Jazz hands.

"How much you'se win?"

"Two dimes an' a nickel, Jacky boy is whipped for Daves."

Paint held in a giggle, "Hotshot owes me a dime."

"I'se betta' be off thens." Paint took out a paper, "Cya' Flames!"

They walked off, shouting out headlines.

"BRONX TAKEN BY WAVE OF SICKNESS, THOUSANDS OF CHILDREN AT RISK!"

Flames waved briefly, smiling.

"I'se should be startin' too," They spit shook with Race before going off.

"FIRE SWEEPS DOWNTOWN, HUNDREDS OF LIVES TAKEN!"

-~-*Skips clock across The River Styx*-~-

"Ello miss, care for a pape?" Flames tipped their hat politely, giving a charming smile.

"Oh, of course, thank you." She handed them a penny, smiling.

"Hello miss, could you'se buy me pape please?" Paint gave a tiny cough, feigning sick.

"Of course!" The lady fumbled around with her purse, pulling out a dime, "Here you go darling!" She smiled, walking over to the man she had been with, "Poor little girl, she shouldn't be out here."

Paint flinched, 'I'm not a girl!' They wanted to yell out, but just settled for mentally screaming it.

Flames strolled down the street, selling a couple papers while they did so.

They saw the familiar silver hair of Paint bobbing in the distance.

Paint was looking through a window at an art gallery, taking it all in.

They stepped back, looking at their reflection, 'I kinda do look like a bubble, huh.'

They had messy silver hair that was cut quite short and a round face littered in freckles with pink cheeks.

Paint's eyes were their favorite part, the left one was a bright emerald green and the right was an amber. They had a happy shine that rarely disappeared.

Flames snuck up behind them, engulfing them in a hug, "Hiya Painty!"

"F****ts." A man muttered a he passed the two Newsies.

Flames cast a deathly glare at him, prepared to go after him.

"Hey, Flames," Paint turned around, "Ignore him, he's jus' an idiot."

Flames sighed, nodding.

"How much you'se make today?"

They dig around in their pocket, pulling out some coins and showing Paint, "thirty-seven cent and three dimes." Flames smile proudly.

"That's great! I made thirty-eight an' couple dimes."

"How'se about we'se head to 'Hattan? We might beat Race there this time!"

"Sure," Flames smiled at Paint's excited energy.

They then headed out on the three hour walk to Manhattan.

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Thanks for reading chapter two!

Leave a comment if you've got any feedback!

　　　　　　•Paint•