Newsies Oneshots 2.0

Bruises and Kisses-Ikeshot

Hotshot would never consider himself stealthy: he was tall, and he walked too heavy to consider tiptoeing. He had a rambunctious laugh, and a hair trigger of a sense of humor, so there was little point to pretending to be good at something he wasn't.

Plus Ike had a sixth sense, or something.

He always knew when Hotshot was sick before he did, or that he was hungry before his stomach grumbled—it was magic, surely, and Hotshot wasn't bothered by it completely. He liked having lunch early, and liked feeling less like death when he was sick. He even liked knowing that Ike thought about him just as much as he did.

But there were nights, like this one, in which he wished Ike was less of an anxious mess in hiding. "Morning."

He nearly screamed louder than Spot when he sees a moth, but he swallowed his fear and tried for a smile as Ike turned the side table light on near their living room couch. "Hey, Ike, baby. Honey. Darling."

Ike remained unfazed, blinking slowly with crossed arms. Hotshot wondered if this was how all of the Manhattan guys felt, considering Romeo, Jack, and Blink were dating three of the most parent-like guys in the Tri-State area, and all of them seemed to have a crazy sixth sense like this.

The only difference, he supposed, was that neither one of them had perfected the look of pure anger. "Oh, boy..."

"I like the new look", Ike falsely complimented, and Hotshot knew the conversation that was coming next. "It suits you."

"I wasn't-" Hotshot sighed, suddenly feeling the bruise worsening the more Ike stared at him, and the cut on his lip stung fervently under Ike's cold gaze. "I didn't do it on purpose! I was just- He asked me my opinion and then he punched me!"

That only seemed to make Ike angrier, and Hotshot knew enough about him to know when to sit and stand. "Excuse me?"

"It was- Please don't kill anyone." What did it look like that fifteen years ago, B.I.—before Ike—Hotshot was Spot Conlon's right hand and muscleman, and now he was fearing the explosive reaction of his husband because this could either end in Ike killing a man or fatally injuring him. "We just got in a heated argument. It's not a big deal!"

Ike groaned and hopped off of the couch, his feet patting against the wooden floor in angry stomps as he made his way to the kitchen. Hotshot watched as he grabbed an ice pack out of their freezer, wrapping it in a towel. "Why did God make me gay knowing men are idiots?"

Hotshot chuckled, seeing as Ike's anger began to slowly dissolve. "It's my fault for going to a sports bar. I should've known-"

"Uh, no", Ike interrupted because Hotshot was just wrong. "I don't know what happened in the past ten years but you have become way too forgiving of people. No one should have ever put their hands on you."

Truthfully, Hotshot hadn't noticed how he'd turned into Ike in some ways—there were layers of benefit suppressing his doubt; his first instinct was to assess what he did wrong rather than why he was upset, which was healthy in some ways, but it was the exact thing he helped Ike deal with in the beginning stages of their relationship: why it's okay to be angry.

Even more so, he hadn't realized his hands were shaking, veins amped on adrenaline and rage and pumping through him slowly until Ike walked over to him and sat in his lap to grab his hand and place the ice pack on his eye.

"It's okay to be pissed at people, Harley", Ike preached, but how could he when Ike called him that? "Like, I'm pissed for you and I wasn't even there. He shouldn't have hit you. And you're shaking and it's freaking me out and-"

Ike sighed, looking into his husband's better eye with exhaustion and stress, and Hotshot became truly upset because some guy with a bad haircut was making his husband upset. He was right—a quiet irritation filled him watching at Ike's brows furrow in confusion, his mind likely racing with every possibility of what could have happened, filling his head with false scenarios and only increasing his stress levels.

Hotshot was close to mad now, his hands shaking from anger rather than fear, even is Ike gripped them with his available one. "I'm sorry."

Ike sighed, shaking his head tiredly. "It's not your fault, baby. But I need you to, as weird as this may sound, be angry sometimes. Don't, like, Hulk out, or something, but just...yell and scream and communicate with me. I'd rather you yell at me than act like everything is fine."

Hotshot hummed and pulled Ike closer to his chest by his waist, hugging him and feeling grounded for the first time that night. "I can't ever yell at you, Isaac, your mother would kill me."

Ike giggled, pulling the ice pack away from his husband's eye and kissing it gently. It stung, but not in a bad way—the same way cleaning a wound would feel. "You're right, don't ever do that in your life. But you have to find some way to stop holding in your anger. You'll explode one day."

Hotshot looked up at him, smirking smugly. "I could always kiss you."

Ike rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, okay, loverboy. You do that. We'll see what happens."

"You love when I kiss you."

"Who told you that?"

"You kissed me when we got married."

"Formality."

Hotshot gasped and kissed Ike quickly, swallowing the soft giggles against his lips just as a soft finger caressed his jaw. He could feel Ike melting against him as they continued to touch, his own arms only wrapping tighter around him. He pulled away slightly, muttering against his lips, "Told you so."

"Shut up", Ike replied playfully, and Hotshot suddenly felt his anger sky away like a fleeting moment.

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This is so bad but I had to get it off my chest.

Also, this is technically entry 130, but it's also technically 129 since the one before it isn't published yet:)

I'm working on a oneshot that's longer than usual—although my best oneshots are hella long (I will never be at the same level as that one Javey oneshot I read that was 75,000 words)—but I had to stop production for a while because it's about a ship that isn't really in my top five, even if I like it (so it's a ship that gets the silly shots rather than the serious ones).

I also watched Carrie (1976) for the first time and I honestly think 2013 is better at the horror aspect. Either way the entire story teaches us why bullying is bad.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and thanks for reading!