Newsies Oneshots

Sprace/hugs✅

Aw they're so cute. This a comfort fic to keep my mind off of anxiety
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3rd person (non omniscient tho)

Spot always found Race annoying, the lanky pale teen was always following him around like a little blonde puppy, a loud blonde puppy. Today was no different, Race followed the shorter king of Brooklyn around talking his ear off.

"So, I was sayin to Albert that maybe if he wasn't always stealin' everyone's cigars then we's wouldn't be as mad at him when -"

"Shuddup, Higgins." Spot gritted his teeth.

Race blinked. A blank expression on his face, "why should I?" He said slyly, slowing his pace to walk facing Spot directly.

"You'se been done sellin for an hour. You have no needs to keep stayin here. Go home to manhattan"

Race frowned. And then, much to Spot's surprise, turned around and started walking back towards manhattan.

   Spot stared at him, a little in shock. Race never listened when he told him to go back in the past? Spot couldn't tell if he should be happy, sad, or disappointed by this. Was Race not happy in Brooklyn? I mean why else would he ditch Spot? Was he mad at Spot?

  He thought about calling out to Race, to tell him to stay, but something in him was too stunned to speak. Besides, he wouldn't force Race to do something he didn't want to. And it seemed clear that Race didn't want to stay, seeing as he was currently walking off.

A while later, Spot was sitting in the lodge with Hotshot, his second in command and closest friend aside from Race. Spot was still thinking about Race leaving and the blank expression Racer had worn when he did. He couldn't stop feeling guilty, and empty. Like a large part of him had left with Race. It was silly, Race was just a...friend? Acquaintance? He didn't know anymore. But he knew he felt terrible about making him leave.

"Hey Hotshot?"  

"Yea Boss?"

"Did you notice anything .... Off about Racetrack today?" He hoped Hotshot wouldn't think he actually *cared* about Race, I mean that'd be absurd... Emotions were not Spots thing.

"Yea he seemed a little down, why? You like him or something" hotshot teased,
Spot felt his face grow warm. Did he like Race? I mean it would explain the emptiness and why he felt so guilty, but didn't friends feel this way as well? Well friends don't flirt as much as Race does, but that could just be Race. Friends don't stare at each other when they think the other isn't looking. Friends don't show up in your dreams being all perfect an-

"I don't know.." he admitted "how do you tell if you like someone?"

Hotshot didn't even seem surprise he just chuckled, "well if you think of them almost all the time without trying,"

That's a check..

"And you can't think around them, your words jumble up," hmm also a check

"[insert more descriptions (I'm acearo😭)"

Spot thought for a moment. "Then yes, I suppose I do fancy Higgins.." he sat for a moment. "Oh god what have I gotten into."

~time skip~

Race looked more down than ever. His smile was gone, and the usual mischievous spark in his eyes were gone. He sold his papes quickly and was just about to leave and go back to manhattans lodging when Spot ran up to him.

"Where ya think your goin?" Spot asked glaring at Racer.

"Down ta 'hattan, you know where i'se live." Race frowned and raised an eyebrow. The sarcasm in his voice sounded harsh, an unusual tone when he was with Spot. It was almost defensive, a tone rarely used towards the shorter boy. Race crossed his arms and looked down at Spot, a sour expression on his face.

Spots face turned red. God he wished it wouldn't. He was supposed to be a tough guy. No emotions should ever affect him... but Race... that was another story, race always made him feel fluttery..

"Look Race, about what I said yesterday. I didn't mean it-" he was cut off by the tall blonde

"It ain't about that."

"Then what is it about? You've been distant all week and I'm worried about you" Spot put his hand on Races arm and looked into his blue eyes. "Your scarin me"

Race looked at him in astonishment, Spot was never that open or vulnerable, even with Race. "It's just... oh I don't know. Just a bit of a sad time of year for me I suppose," Race avoided Spots eyes "I came to the refuge around this time so mannnny years back."

"Oh Race.." Spot was sympathetic, he had also been in the Brooklyn lodging since he was real little. he wished he could cheer Race up but he didn't know how. He couldn't even think very well, but he just *needed* to get that sad look off of Racetracks face.

Race looked at him, pausing shortly before sheepishly asking "could I- could I hug you?" He looked at the concrete ground below them.

Spot was stunned. He'd never let anyone that close to him, ever. Not even one of the boys he'd known for years. He hated physical touch, and any sign of emotions made him feel too vulnerable which he was raised to believe made him weak and pathetic. But somehow, for some reason, Race was ... different.

"Sure," he said and Race bent down and wrapped his long arms around spot. It was a bit awkward with the height difference but it was nice, comforting and fitting. Like they were meant to be like this forever. After what felt like a long time, but yet somehow still not enough time, Race detached from the hug and stood back up, looking into spots eyes.

"So Spot, you got a soft spot" he laughed at the play on words and started back to his usual antics

Spot felt a rush of relief hearing Race back to his normal rhythm and the sad look on his face almost completely gone. Even though Spot knew it would still be there for a while.

"I should've never helped you" Spot rolled his eyes.

This was nice
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