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Chapter 20 - Orace (Oscar x Race)

- Chapter 20 - The Kind that Turns a Delancey's Head -
Warnings: Mentions of abuse
Canon Era
Third Person POV

A/N I have a book on Oscar x Race titled 'Okay, for Tonight' and I fell in love with this ship, so I'm writing this ship again. (It's cover.)

Race was adorable.

He had this- this smile!

The Italian in his New York accent that was only a tiny bit noticeable, unless he got mad, then it was more noticeable.

Subconsciously rubbing an injury that he had or a place where a past injury had been. (This made it very hard for him to hide injuries.)

Tugging on the strap of his paper bag or tugging on his shirt collar or sleeve end when he was nervous.

His laugh.

His protectiveness and how he was with kids. He was so good with kids.

How he looked with his hair messed up when his brothers ruffled his hair.

The annoyance that actually looked adorable when his brothers babied or reminded him that he was the youngest.

His freckles.

His smarts and attention to detail.

Jack picked a good Second in Command.

He fought well, but was outnumbered easily.

Even then, a black eye didn't take anything away from his beauty.

So yeah, Race was just- adorable and a gift from the Heavens. (And Oscar didn't even believe in Heaven.)

Oscar wanted to either stab him or kiss him.

Growing up in abusive homes, Oscar didn't learn good ways to get rid of emotions.

Unless they hurt him or his brother, Oscar hadn't gotten in any fights/hurt a street kid (or any kid for that matter) for nine months.

He had been trying for longer, but having Weasel and Snyder watching him made it difficult since they would beat or Morris if he didn't beat them up.

Now, they trusted the Delancey brothers enough to leave them alone when they were supposed to be beating up street kids or kids in the Refuge.

He never did.

Oscar fell back against the wall, ignoring his fists that were dripping with blood.

"Stupid dirty, blonde curls that look so soft." Oscar mumbles, eyes squeezed closed. "Stupid beautiful, blue eyes. Stupid pretty singing voice, stupid flirty winks that actually drive me insane. Stupid adorable-"

"You've fallen hard." A familiar voice cuts off Oscar's rant.

Oscar's eyes shoot open.

Morris, Albert, and Spot stood in front of him.

"What in papesicals?" Oscar mumbles, getting up, and ignoring the bit of pain from his hands.