them brooklyn boys⚡️sprace

Part 12????

Sorry if this sucks. I was not in the writing mood while I was writing this because I was supposed to go see DEH today but...yk :( also Tw, slur.

The Brooklyn Bridge was still too long. Especially at 7pm for a certain Spot Conlon when a certain Jack Kelly got back to the Lodging House and kicked him out. Race begged but there was really no changing his mind, Spot had to go back. The compromise was that he could have a jacket, if he left within 30 minutes, considering nobody wanted The King Of Brooklyn to freeze to death in the harsh weather. Race walked him out, after he'd been handed a jacket that was two sizes to small for Mush.
"They close, eh?"
Crutchie asked, watching them leave the building.
"Guess."
Jack answered, walking away.
"Hey-wait. There's somethin' you ain't tellin me."
"Nah."
"Jack."
Crutchie persisted, tugging on the taller boys arm.
"You ain't never not told me anythin'."
"That's because usually the stuff ise doin' ain't illegal."
"False, but continue."
Jack grabbed Crutchie by the arm and dragged him into the other room. This would be hard especially on account if how much Crutchie loved everything. If he didn't approve of this the four if them would be in deep shit. Also they'd have to work out a system of not talking to each other considering they all lived (besides Spot) in the same house. Plus there was the challenge of how to tell the kid you found on the street years ago with barely any food and a gimp leg that you like boys and even though you've done illegal stuff before, this one is selfish. It's not revolutionary. It's not helping others. It's putting others in danger, actually. It's bad illegal. Like the illegal the Newsies would shame out in the streets. Jack shook if that feeling though, and thought about Race "accepting him" was the least he could do. Race was right, he did raise them. He raised each and every one of these children ( with help from Davey ), and if they didn't like him after all he'd done then he'd just kick them back out. Maybe.
"I likes Davey. Ain't a platonic relationship either."
Jack spit it out so that the words were connected but he didn't have to repeat himself.
"He like you back?"
Crutchie snorted, laughing to himself.
"Shit. Shit, shit. Shit. I knew I shouldn't 'ave told ya."
The shorter boy punched him playfully on the arm.
"Ya kiddin'? Course I ain't mad. You can't control who ya like. But what about Kat?"
"I..don't know. I need time to think. Maybe I should just break it off with Dave-"
"No. You ain't doing that. If ya really loved Kat, Davey wouldn't even be in the ballpark."
"Right. Can't tell anyone 'bout this, you know?"
"Yep. What about Race and Conlon?"
"They...they has there own thing, yeah."

Racetrack woke up covered in sweat, yet he was shivering. At this rate if he got a cold there's no way he would survive winter, it was more a dream that caused the shivering and sweat than anything though. Earlier he'd brushed it off but a question lingered in his mind ever since Spot had left earlier that evening. What if he decides to go back? What if he decides he's too good for this life? What if he decides he's not a fag, and that he didn't wanna stay with Race? Of course, it was the pure paranoia of loosing his sort of kind of best friend turned lover. It seemed every time his heart yearned for someone, they didn't want him back. His mom? Dead. His dad? Abusive asshole. Spot? Well, he'd have to wait and see, but for now, everything was fine. He tended to ruin things when he stressed about them too much, so he knew it was best to just leave it be for now. Just pull on a smile and crack some stupid jokes. Twirl the damn cigar and nobody will notice that you might be breaking slowly on the inside. The only thing Race didn't know, was that Spot Conlon could see right through him.

The circulation bell seemed early that morning. This was not a pleasant time for the Newsies. It was chilly again, and there were still no blankets from Katherine. Davey's family had offered some, but Jack had insisted that they keep them. Sharing beds wasn't unusual, cuddling while sharing beds though...that was strictly a winter time thing. And strictly for warmth. Jack thought about easing up these rules a little though, they were almost in the new century. Things were changing at an alarming rate.
"Goin' to see Spot Conlon today, Racer?"
Albert teased, pulling up his socks. None of them new how to shut up, especially when it came to making jokes about each other. Jack once wore his shirt inside out and it was mentioned every day for almost six months until there were threats of kicking people out.
"Goin' to take a bath today, Albert?"
Race shot back. His best friend once hadn't bathed for 2 1/2 months and he smelt so bad that even on the coldest days everyone refused to bunk with him. Not that he was wrong, though. Race was most definitely going to see Spot Conlon today, by the way.