Sometimes Race is still surprised by just how easy it is to make his boyfriend, Sean "Spot" Conlon, the King of Brooklyn, go completely crazy for his touch. To most people, Spot is the fearless leader of the Brooklyn newsies, the kind of person everybody knows not to mess with. To Race, he is sensitive and a total babbling mess, not seeming to be able to say enough how much he loves 'his Anthony'. There is no way in hell he would ever let anyone else see him like that, not in a million years, not if he could help it.
On the other hand, there's the fact that, in Spot's opinion, Race is 'too damn pretty' and 'shouldn't that be illegal?' and a million other reasons why he has to kiss that boy right now. So he pulls Race out of the room while they're with all of his friends (much to the confusion of one Jack Kelly, who was mid-conversation with the aforementioned blond gambler) and right into the back of the alley outside Jacobi's Deli. Before Anthony can even begin to process what's going on, he's being pressed up against the wall with one hand up his shirt and the other tugging at his hair just right.
"God, I love ya, Ant," Sean murmurs in his ear, nibbling gently on the skin there just enough for Race to let out a low moan, "You's perfect."
"I love you's too, Spotty, but wha' brought all o' this on?" Race says breathily, clearly confused.
"I'm jus' tired o' not bein' able to kiss you 'round all o' our friends." Spot complains. Race only sighs, a loving smile making its way onto his face.
"I know, 'm tired o' hidin' it too." Race tells him, pressing his body closer to Sean's.
"I jus' wanna be able to tells ya all o' the time how pretty you is, Racer. Cuz ya real pretty an' it drives me crazy that I can't say shit 'bout how much I love you's an' how much I love your crooked smile. I wan' you to be mine all the time, not just in these dumb alleys an' under the docks an' behind closed doors." Spot all-but whines, much to Race's surprise, because it's rare to hear Sean be so open with how he feels.
"You's is jus' gonna have to fit all you's gots to say into the little bit o' time we got." Race says with a smile, hoping you lighten the mood. Spot grins against his skin, more than willing to play along.
"Where do I start? I love it when ya ramble on an' on 'bout Sheepshead," there is a pause as Spot presses a few open-mouthed kisses to the hollow of races throat, "an' 'bout ya boys in' Hatten," another pause as the action is repeated, "an' I love the way you's always get all flustered when one o' your boys asks about the bruises I leave on ya neck, even if ya gotta lie 'bout where they came from, cuz I know betta. I know the real reason you's all flustered is jus' cuz ya thinkin' 'bout the way I had ya pressed all up against me, I know you's thinkin' about how desperate ya were fo' me when I gave 'em to ya." Spot punctuates this declaration by beginning to suck a hickey onto Anthony's neck, eliciting a moan from the blue-eyed boy.
"I love that you's is too stubborn to ever back down from a bet, even though it gets ya into trouble more often than it don't," Spot's hands roam all over Race's upper body as their lips meet again, causing a shudder to wrack Anthony's body. Spot pulls away and is about to speak again when someone else enters the situation.
"What the hell?" comes the unmistakable voice of Jack Kelly from behind them. Race freezes as Spot pulls away, turning to stand in front of Race protectively.
"What do ya want, Kelly?" It was phrased as a question, but sounded more like a threat. Jack's eyes go wide for a second before he starts laughing.
"Sorry for interrupting you's, I was jus' surprised. I never, not in a million years, would o' thought Spot Conlon had a soft Spot. Ya don't gotta worry 'bout me tellin' nobody your secret, an' ya don't gotta worry 'bout me givin' you no hard time neither. Did you really think me an' Davey was jus' friends?" Jack says through his laughter. Race and Spot both relax immediately once they know they're not in trouble.
"Good God, Jack, maybe don't scare us so much next time. Thought we was gonna hafta soak ya." Race tells his friend.
Jack just shakes his head, "Jus' be more careful. Y'know, all the guys are good with it, but if someone else had caught ya out here, some stranger or the DeLancey's or anyone really, you'd be dead." Both boys nod.
"We know the risks, Jack. We'll be more careful." Race says. Jack gives them a quick wave before turning to go back into Jacobi's. Spot turns to face Race again once they're alone. He's silent for a moment before he suddenly lurches forward and pulls Race tight against him.
"I thought for a second there I was gonna lose ya, Ant." Spot murmurs against Race's skin.
"Oh, Sean... Don't ya know you're stuck wit' me? I ain't leavin' ya for nothin', not anytime soon. Promise." Race rubs his back consolingly for a moment before pulling back. "We should be headin' back inside 'bout now, though. Do ya want me to stay with ya in Brooklyn for tonight?" Spot nods, and they head back inside like nothing ever happened.
