Newsies One Shots and Short Stories

Spot/Race/Jack- Fighting Isn't Always The Answer- Part Two

Tomorrow. 

Jack had said tomorrow. 

And here tomorrow was. 

Today. 

Which is no longer tomorrow. 

Tomorrow is tomorrow. 

Until tomorrow that is. 

Then tomorrow is today. 

And today is yesterday. 

Jack was nervous, in case you were wondering. And from the look of him, so was Race. Until he grabbed Jack's hand and yanked him into a little alleyway in Brooklyn, a few blocks from the lodging house. 

"What if 'e doesn't like us like that?" Race fretted, fidgeting with his cigar. "What if he hates us for this?" 

"Hey, hey! Race. Race-y. Racetrack." Jack took Race's face in his hands, trying to make the worried crease on his forehead disappear. "Sweetheart. Darling. Love. Luce della mia vita. Mio piccolo angelo." 

Race blushed a deep scarlet and Jack grinned, shifting to hold Race's hands and dance them around messily. 

"Il mio dolce, dolce amore." Jack sing-songed as he spun the blushing boy around. 

"Stai zitto."  Race mumbled, looping his arms around Jack's neck. 

Jack just grinned, leaning their foreheads together. "You know ya love me." 

Race kissed the tip of his nose sweetly. "Ya got that right." 

A cough came from somewhere behind him, and — as silly as it was — Jack couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. 

"Spot." He turned around to look at the shorter boy, one hand still resting on Race's waist. 

He didn't know how long Spot had been standing there, but he didn't really care. Despite his attempt at his usual tough, cold demeanor, Jack could see the softness in his eyes, and maybe a hint of sadness too. So maybe Jack had been right, and Spot did reciprocate their feelings. And if that was true, then they needed to talk to him immediately and make that sadness fuck off. 

"Kelly. Racetrack. What're you two doin' in Brooklyn?" Spot said professionally, walking towards them. "I didn't think we'd planned a meeting." 

Jack grinned, and he could see Spot soften ever so slightly. "We don't." 

"We-... uh, we wanted ta-... uhm-" Race started, his nerves taking over as he fiddled with his cigar. 

Spot leaned forward and put a comforting hand on his shoulder at the same time Jack slid a hand onto the small of his back, lightly tracing circles. The blond calmed down a bit, but he still turned to Jack to keep talking. 

"We wanted ta talk ta you." Jack continued. 

Spot eyed them suspiciously. "What about? Not starting another strike I hope." 

"No... uh... this is hard to explain." Jack ran a hand through his hair. "You're pretty smart, right?" 

The boy shrugged. "You could say that." 

"So you probably already know that Racer and I are together." Jack continued. 

Spot nodded. "You ain't subtle." 

"Well- we..." Jack took a deep breath, shoving down his nerves. "We like you, Spot. Both of us." 

The shorter boy didn't say anything, but his brow furrowed and his eyes darted from Jack to Race and back again. 

"And we were wonderin' if you'd like ta try the three of us bein' together." Jack finished nervously. 

Spot looked deep into Jack's eyes, like he was searching for something, then he switched to Race, giving him the same intense gaze. 

"You're-..." He swallowed harshly, looking between the two of them. "You're not screwin' with me?" 

"'Course not." Race said, voice almost hopeful. 

Jack tentatively held a hand out to Spot and the boy studied him again, before he carefully took it in his. Jack couldn't help smiling and giving Spot's hand a small squeeze. 

Their eyes met again and the next thing they knew they were hugging tightly, Spot's arms around Jack's waist, and Jack's around his neck. 

They pulled apart just enough for each of them to grab one of Race's hands and they pulled him into the hug, Jack's arm around his middle, and Spot's at the back of his neck. 

Jack dropped a sweet kiss to each of their foreheads and he could practically feel their smiles. 

They were happy. 

His boys.