Newsies Oneshots 2.0

Magic-Javey

If the world imploded on itself, sank buildings into lava and earth's creatures into an inevitable doom, Jack would still feel the one thing he'd have to do was grab Davey's face and kiss him.

The world wasn't ending, not even close—buildings were still as high as he remembered, the big guys still stomping on the little ones every time they surpassed expectations. As far as Jack knew, New York was still the same busy, soulless yet hope-filled city he'd always known it to be. He had all the time in the world, but his heart didn't seem to catch onto that news any better than a baby reading the morning paper.

As he sat next to Davey during a slower point in the day, right in front of Jacobi's on two crates used by the milk man every morning, Jack couldn't help but stare at his friend, eyes never leaving his bright grin and even brighter eyes, as if he was a beacon of energy and Jack was being sucked in. Temptation gripped him with a heavy hand, unwilling to let go.

The sun shone against his hair, sweat dripping from loose curls and reflecting the light, as if God gripped Davey by his hair, forcing him to bare his neck, bare himself to the world, and the man put a halo on top of his head, presenting him as an angel of the lord, a saint meant to be praised and presented like a goal to achieve. Jack wasn't wasn't a religious man, let alone a good Catholic, but he knew perfection when he saw it.

"We should probably get back to work", Davey suggested, and Jack's ears seemed to have left the business of hearing, on the side of his head as decoration for a Christmas tree. It wasn't until he saw Davey hop off of the crate did he follow, like a disciple hanging on the very move of his teacher. He looked at the clock just feet away from them. "Work's nearly over. The rush will kill us before Pulitzer does. You okay?"

Jack stared at Davey's pink lips, dry from the glaring sun and cracked from his teeth gnawing at them hungrily, mimicking Jack's desire to sink his teeth in and drink. A tongue ran over them and he nearly jumped Davey, attacked him to the ground and kissed him with a hunger no longer to be satiated.

But he couldn't act on that. It was wrong.

"Yeah", he rasped, clearing his throat and wiping his sweaty hands on his recently washed pants. His lips quirked in his usually charming grin, heart pounding against his chest with a ferocity unknown to him. "I'll meet you and the boys back at the lodge. Sell good, alright?"

Davey chuckled, patting Jack on the back and searing the man's skin, a mark there to remind him who was in control of his heart, power so willingly given to him. Jack nearly gasped, barely groaned at the feeling of his hand on his shoulder for those short seconds, like Jesus decided to take a break on earth again, and the irony did not befall him. Davey was an entirely different being himself, a vixen sent to earth to test Jack's temptation; a succubus reeling him in like a fish from water to devour, and Jack only ask he didn't bite too hard before allowing Davey to consume him. It was dirty—raunchy was a word he'd seen Katherine use in one of her articles, but Jack could not care less.

"I'll do my best", Davey promised with a grin, and Jack felt his knees ready to give in. "You do the same, alright?"

Of course Jack did. He really did.

From the rush alone he'd managed to sell all of his hundred papers, and even a few the younger newsies couldn't. He pedaled nearly two hundred newspapers within two hours, just before the sun disappeared under the buildings of the city. Race praised him for it, asked him how he'd managed to focus and make up stories that must've been unheard of, but Jack couldn't focus at all.

His mind played landlord to Davey Jacobs, and the man was missing out on rent. He was running through it, stepping on nerve endings and vessels, saying things that made Jack shiver and ache; made him miss him and long for him in a way he didn't understand, as if they were attached by strings and he was pulling him a little too hard.