Newsies Oneshots 2.0

We're Not Fighting-Ikeshot

Um, hi

It's late and I can't sleep, as usual, so please excuse any and all mistakes:D

Enjoy!

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Hotshot pushed the door behind him, ignoring the sound of wood against his boyfriend's palms, the door squeaking open. He walked quickly to their living space, hearing Ike's angry footsteps behind him.

"So that's what we're doing now?!" The door finally shut closed, slamming much like Hotshot intended. "We're slamming doors in front of each other's face? Is that what this is now?"

"Why do you have a problem with everything?!" Hotshot turned to look at Ike, brows furrowed and eyes gleaming with anger. Ike stared at him challenging, annoyed and more pissed off than he'd like to believe. "I didn't even close the door in your face!"

"I've never met someone so fucking rude in my entire life", Ike scoffed, rolling his eyes as Hotshot repeated his sentence scornfully. "You can't even answer a simple question I had!"

"I said I didn't want to talk about it!" He was referring to their conversation in the car as they drove away from the party, having started in high spirits, which died as soon as Ike opened his mouth. The downer, he was. "It already fucking happened! Why do you always have to bring up shit from the past?!"

"Oh, I bring up shit from the past? I seem to remember someone mentioning a little argument we had to Spot at the party. But I bring up shit from the past."

"That's different-"

"No, it's not", Ike cut him off, crossing his arms childishly, and Hotshot could see the fury doused in his eyes, his brown eyes seeming almost black, like the sun in them exploded and left the universe in darkness. "I have the decency to keep private matters private."

"What are you saying, I betrayed your trust?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's rich."

"It's true." Ike sized him up, doing his best to remain uncaring, but he could feel the tears begin to sting his eyes. "I'm not okay with you telling our friends about shit we can talk about together."

"Well, we aren't perfect, Ike", Hotshot chuckled, remaining distant from his boyfriend. "Sometimes there's stuff I want to get off my chest and talk to my friends about."

"Okay, but why does that have to involve me?" Hotshot pinched the space between his eyes, the feeling of this argument never ending cutting close to reality. "There's a dictionary of stuff you can talk to Spot about but you still-"

"Well, why did you feel the need to bring up my black eye? If there's a dictionary of stuff we can talk about."

"Because you still haven't told me what happened!"

"It's not any of your business!" Ike scoffed at that, his nose burning with his eyes, a fiery passion built behind them, burning away any sense he had left. "Why can't you just leave it alone?!"

"Because I care about you!"

"Well, I didn't ask you to!"

Ike sighed, licking his lips thoughtfully, managing to keep his barrier up. Although he felt the urge to sob in front of his boyfriend, he knew that it would get him nowhere—he didn't want to be accused of seeking attention. He was an adult, and adults can handle their own problems.

Hotshot closed his eyes, wondering if he held his breath long enough, the tears would go away and he could speak to Ike with civility, much like he would under normal circumstances, that being he treated his partner with much kinder words. He wanted that back.

"This isn't doing anything", Hotshot mumbled, his hands gripping the couch with white knuckles. Ike looked at him sadly. "We're just- we're going back and forth."

Ike nodded, the annoyance of their argument creeping up on him like a centipede, tickling his body with hundreds of little legs. It scratched his head harshly, nearly drawing blood—tears—but he shook it away. "Harley?"

Hotshot turned to look at him. Ike stared at him with sad eyes, one's he'd normally fall over for, but he knew Ike had something to say, and it wasn't his time to speak yet. "What?"

"It is my job to care for you", Ike stated strongly, never looking away from his boyfriend's eyes. "It is an expectation I signed up for when I decided to be with you, so it's not just something you can brush away. You don't have to ask me to do anything when it comes to loving you."

Hotshot swallowed, looking at Ike with regret deep enough to reach the end of the ocean, without the expectation of swimming. Ike mulled over his frame again, seeing Hotshot's knuckles become whiter than his skeleton, proposing the question if he'd flexed his way to the bone. "I...I know that-"

"So why would you say something like that?"

Hotshot took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling behind closed eyes, and hugging out deeply. "I wasn't thinking. I know you love me, a lot, and I love you, too. I'm sorry and I shouldn't have said that."

Ike had nothing more to say. His part was done, on that matter. He wished badly he could spit out apologies as quickly as Hotshot could, but he was afraid of insincerity more than lack of forgiveness, and his fear grabbed him by his head and wouldn't let go.

But he tried, for Hotshot. "I'm...I'm sorry for bringing up what happened and for yelling. That was my mistake because I'm worried about you."

"I'm sorry for yelling, too." Hotshot barely smiled, releasing his grip on the couch. "I understand why you're worried. It's pretty bad, huh?"

"You look like a raccoon." Hotshot chuckled, walking over to Ike and embracing him, holding him close his chest.

Ike sighed into Hotshot's shirt, breathing him in. It felt as if time had passed quickly, and they'd recently met again—every argument was a beginning to an end, he'd learned. It only lasted a while. "God, arguing with you is exhausting."

Hotshot laughed more, kissing Ike's hair. "You're not exactly a restful argument either."

"Good", Ike hummed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's waist. "Now you know not to fuck with me."

Hotshot rolled his eyes fondly, running a hand through Ike's hair gently, caressing him much like he'd hold a puppy—calm-like, yet unfocused. He wanted to tell him.

But Ike was too close to them; he'd have a heart attack if he found out, then things really wouldn't be okay. But Hotshot knew he couldn't keep his life to himself for forever, and he'd have to learn to share the good, the bad, and the dirty with Ike soon, or he'd be witnessing his own downfall.

So, he promised himself: "I'll tell you what happened someday, okay?"

Ike nodded into him, sighing in relief. It wasn't what he wanted, but he expected it. He felt disappointed, much like the times he'd gotten clothes for Christmas, but he appreciated the gift, a hung it up in a place no one would be able to see. "Okay. But if I have to kill someone-"

"You're not killing anyone."

"But if", Ike restarted, and Hotshot pulled away from him, staring at him amusedly, "you have to promise not to stop me, even if we live a life of crime forever. Okay?"

"Okay", Hotshot chuckled. "I'll bail you out of jail, too."

"Oh, great", Ike yawned, sighing. "At least I'd get out the legal way."

"At least", Hotshot smiled, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's nose, and shuffling the both of them to their bedroom. His thoughts lingered at the back of his head, scratching at him. He badly wanted to swat it away, but all he could afford was a reminder: he'd tell him one day.

He'd promised.

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I have a feeling I won't remember this until there's comments on it lol

Anyway, was this okay? I'm a bit delirious right now bc I should be sleeping but I'd to know your guys' opinion.

Thanks for reading!!!!