Carrying the Banner || Newsies One-shots

Valentine's Day

Race never really celebrated Valentine's Day. The problem was he'd never had anyone to celebrate it with. This year, though, he had Spot. Unfortunately, due to his lack of experience, Race didn't know what to do for his boyfriend.

He ran into the lodging house the day before Valentine's Day, face red and lips tinged blue. He was shivering, and there was frost in his blonde hair, but he didn't even stop to warm up. He just kept running until he reached Jack's room. "Jack, Jack, drop whatevah ya doin', 'less it's Crutchie," he panted, slamming the door behind him. The coarse-haired boy was sitting on his cot, reading a worn book that looked stained and old.

"Jeez, Race, what's happenin'? What's the hurry?" Jack inquired, eyes narrowing with confusion. "Someone die?" He laughed hoarsely at his own joke, though his mirth quickly faded. "Seriously, Racer, whaddya need?"

"'sValentine'sDaytomorrowandIwannadosomethin'forSpotbutIdon'tknowwhattaget'im-" Race blurted out, tripping over his words as he caught his breath and felt his lips start to thaw. He wiped his red nose with a shaky hand and then repeated his words, slower: "'s Valentine's Day tomorrow, and I wanna do somethin' for Spotty, but I ain't never done nothin' for Valentine's Day before-"

Jack cut him off with a quick nod. "Then jus' get 'im flowers or somethin'. Don' worry 'bout it. 'm sure he'll love anythin' ya get 'im."

"It's the middle of February, and I ain't got enough dollars for flowers," Race protested, but Jack was shooing him out of his room.

"You'll figure it out!" the leader called before closing and locking his door. Race stood there, pouting, before slowly walking to his bunk and sitting on it. He eventually laid down, finding that more comfortable than sitting. It was a good hour before inspiration struck. Race reached under his mattress and pulled out a small notebook, and a dictionary. He had never learned to read, so the other newsies had been helping him learn with the dictionary. He felt around for a pencil, then set to work writing on a sheet of paper from the notebook.

-----

The next evening, Racetrack left the lodging house early to go see Spot. It had gotten dark by the time he reached Brooklyn, wrapped in a thin jacket and shivering. In his pocket was a note for Spot, folded carefully and paired with a drawing Jack had done for him. The boy reached the Brooklyn lodging house and knocked weakly. Luckily, the Brooklyn boys had been expecting him and quickly opened the door. They all had grins and smirks, sharing knowing looks with each other. Bits, a tall, lanky newsie who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, smirked widely and gestured down the hall.

"'e's been in there all afternoon, waitin' for you. He's got a surprise."

Race immediately started panicking as he approached the door. He was terrified that Spot would have a better gift for him, and that a card and a drawing wouldn't even compare to whatever his boyfriend had done for him. The hall seemed much longer to walk across, and when he finally reached Spot's door, he turned the knob, hands trembling. The door creaked open slowly, and Spot's low voice came from inside.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Racer." Race opened the door the rest of the way and almost burst into tears.

Spot was standing there with a bouquet of roses, a nervous smile on his lips. Race could tell that he'd tried to clean his clothes as best he could, and the poor boy lit up with a huge grin. He did start crying, running towards Spot and hugging his boyfriend tightly. Spot managed to get the roses out of the way in time, and hugged back just as tight. "I love ya, Racer. Always."

Race held back a sob, laughing through his tears. "I made youse a card," he mumbled into Spot's neck. "'s not very good, though."

"Bullshit," Spot said flatly, pulling away and gently kissing away Race's tears. "Aw, baby...I didn't mean ta make ya cry..."

The blonde sniffed and shook his head with a teary smile, "No, these are happy tears, Spotty." He fished around in his pocket, pulling out the card and drawing. "Jack did the drawin', but I told him exactly what to do." He watched as Spot opened the card and read, gasping quietly as he closed it. Spot tucked the papers under his bed and turned back to Race.

"I know it ain't as good as the flowers," Race started, gasping softly as Spot's lips collided with his. The kiss was a bit salty, tears mixed in with the passion.

"It's perfect, Race," Spot whispered to him, kissing him again and again. Race felt on top of the world as his boyfriend's body pressed up against him, and he held on to Spot, not ready to let him go.

"I love you," Race gasped between kisses, falling on top of Spot as the shorter boy laid back on his bed. "I love ya, I love ya, I love ya."

In that moment, all was right with the world, and the world was only them, and it was perfect.