Newsies Oneshots

Almer: Go. Just go. Please.

"Hey, Al! I haven't heard from you recently. Please call me back, I'm starting to get worried. I love you!"

Three times Elmer had called Albert. Usually, the redhead answered the first ring. When he didn't, he always texted. It scared Elmer. He trudged up the stairs into the bedroom, laying down and staring at the ceiling.

The door opened two hours later. A tuft of red hair stumbled around the room as Elmer turned on the lights. Albert's eyes were bloodshot and he tried to lay down, only to be stopped by a worried Elmer.

"Where were you? I was worried sick! No call, no text? I thought you died!"

Albert's speech was slurred as he rolled his eyes. "I went for," he hiccuped, "a drink. Obviously you don't know how to let loose."

Elmer gasped, pointing to the door. "I can't believe you. Go. Just go. Please. I can't even look at you right now," he sighs as the redhead fell through the doorway, gently closing the door behind him.

Elmer doesn't fall asleep. He can't fall asleep. He grabbed his phone and smiled at a picture of a handsome, sober, laughing Albert. Tears pricked his dark brown eyes and he buried his face in his knees, trying to stop his sobs. He moved to grab a small photo album, looking through pictures of the two. Pictures of Elmer at Albert's hockey games, decked in green and black. Pictures of Albert helping a terrified Elmer drive a stick. (fun fact: I drive a stick)  The two asleep on the couch, limbs tangled and soft smiles on their faces. It was so different. This Albert had red eyes to match his flaming hair, a bad temper and bad breath to match. Slowly, he falls asleep, his sobs quieting.

The next morning, Elmer wakes up to Albert cussing. He walks into the bathroom and sighs, plopping down on the counter.

"Hey, El," he's interrupted by dry heaves. "I'm sorry about last night. It was just a bad day and I didn't know what else to do. I know you probably won't be able to forgive me now, but just know I didn't mean to get trashed."

Elmer runs a hand through his hair. "It's okay, Albie. Everyone has a bad day. I just wish that instead of going out drinking, you came home and we snuggled in bed and watched a cheesy romance movie."

Albert nods, clutching his forehead. "My head hurts. Do we have any Ibuprofen?" He asks, as Elmer takes a bottle out of the cabinet.

Albert puts the pills in his mouth, chasing them down with water. Elmer leads him into the bedroom, laying with him. He opens his arms and the redhead crawls over to him, snuggling into his chest as Elmer strokes his hair and kisses the crown of his head. "Now, don't do that again. I need to make sure that my Albie's okay. Also, who drove you home?"

Albert yawns. "My car's still at the bar."