Newsies Oneshots/Crack

12- What happened last night?

AU: Post-Strike
Ships: Space, Blink, Javid
Warnings: Implied Smut, Alcohol Usage

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What the hell happened last night?

Racetrack slowly came to, his head throbbing as he registered where he was. He was in bed with Spot, and the morning bells had clearly already rung.

Last night was a blur, but he could remember small bits of it.

He could remember everyone getting smash-faced drunk off a few bottles of whiskey. He could remember Albert jokingly flirting with him, and a very drunk Spot growing possessive. He could remember a few of the words- although he wasn't sure if he wanted to- and he somewhat remembered David dragging Jack over to the supply closet while Blink relentlessly made fun of them. He remembered Mush grabbing the scarf around Blink's neck, slamming him into a wall in front of everyone, and-

Well, maybe he'd rather not remember that part.

And this morning Spot was still just as protective as ever, his small body curled around his boyfriend's in a death grip so tight Racetrack was surprised that he could breathe.

"Spottie..." He gently shook Spot. "I need to get up. I'm gonna be late getting back to Manhattan."

Spot's groaned as he hugged Race tighter, clearly not yet awake. "No, you're mine..."

"Spottie-"

"No." Spot simply answered, in the mumbled tone most people have during hangovers. He hugged Race tighter.

"Can you at least send someone so Jack won't think I'm dead?"

"Jack's downstairs..." Spot mumbled.

"What?"

"He and Mouth fell asleep together."

Of course they did.

"What about Blink and Mush?"

Spot sleepily pointed to a corner of the room, where the two were passed out on the floor, half-unclothed and next to an overturned bowl of fruit. "I don't even know what happened to them."

"So..." He winced as he moved and his head throbbed. "Whose back in Manhattan, then? Someone needs to make sure Oscar and Morris don't-"

"That someone's not gonna be you."

"Spottie-" Racetrack started to sit up.

"Get down." Spot growled, pulling him back down and cuddling back up to him. "You can skip work for a day. I'll pay for food."

"What about-"

"I'll figure it out for everyone else, okay?! Go the fuck to sleep, my head hurts and I don't feel like getting up."

"You can sleep, but can I please get up? I know a hangover cure, I think I can make it."

"If you don't shut up and lie down I'll use the lamp as a hangover cure."

"How will you-"

"I'll smash it into your skull, knocking you unconscious and thus ending your hangover. Or you can go the fuck to sleep and let me cuddle with you. You pick."

Racetrack sighed and obediently laid back down, his eyes fixed on Spot. "Happy?"

Spot smirked, gently kissing his boyfriend's forehead. "Very."