NEWSIES: The Ultimate Modern AU

How Race Tamed Spot

Walking across the Brooklyn bridge, Race puffed on his cigar, smelling the salt air. He had worn red socks that day; the signature trademark of the Brooklyn Boys. Normally the other fellas would fleet the sight or scatter when Brooklyn was mentioned, but not Race. Sure at first he was sceptical, but since he started dating Spot, he realised they were practically the same.

Spots authority was one others feared. No one exactly knew why, he wasn't tall and to be honest he was basically an angry Italian chihuahua. There had been stories circulating New York though, sayings that Spots boys once soaked a whole gang of guys because they were on his turf. Sometimes they were welcomed, but if uninvited and without a reason to approach him; you wouldn't return home without a black eye at least.

They had been together for quite a while, at least six months. Race was an honorary Brooklyn member, and after Jack had explained colour theory when painting to him, he started wearing more greens. "It's a complimentary colour to red." Race had beamed at Spot when he questioned why Race looked like a Christmas ornament, all dressed in green with touches of scarlet red.

Race approached the Peer where Spot sat atop a rock, sharpening his pocket knife. Race stood below him, hands on his hips and smoke hanging out his mouth. Spot noticed him in the reflection of his blade and put it down, prancing on over to his boyfriend. Race threw the cigarette over his shoulder, it sizzled in the damp sand. Spot stood in front of him, looking upwards. Race kept a straight face, and Spot kept on trying to intimidate him. Eventually Race smiled down at him and gave him a kiss.

"HOW DO YOU DO THAT?" Spot said exasperated.
"Do what?" Race laughed back, grinning at Spots flushed cheeks.
"THAT! Ya know you just- ya just do it! I dunno how."
"Eh you loves me." He hugged Spot and rest his cheek on his head.
"Yeah and you be glad I do..." he muttered grumpily.

They walked down the river walk together, chatting about the latest gossip of their districts. Spot looked up at the sky, shading his eyes with his hands. "Tommy Boy got the boot. Me thinks he went too far."
"Too far? No fucking way... Babe? You have boundaries?" Race teased, pretending to be shocked.
"Ah shut it you! No but now he's in the Lodge again like the rest of us. He was going good for a while. Of corse he's welcome back, he's part of the family..." he paused, "and always will be!" Race looked at him, waiting to hear more. "It's just a shame that one of us was getting somewhere then had it spoilt by some scab who thinks he's top shit."
"Fuck him." Race muttered, grabbing Spot around his back and holding him close as they walked.

The couple sat in the sun like lizards, soaking up the sweet drops that had been missing the past couple of days and replaced with a grey haze. Soon they were joined by a few other Brooklyn boys, who Race greeted happily in which they returned the vibes. It was a pleasant morning. "Hey Racetrack! How's the fellas!" Tommy Boy greeted.
"They's good, Tibby. Sorry to hear about that shit show you went through." All the boys went tense, the rage grew on their faces.
"Shit happens." He shrugged, picking a blade of grass from below him as he sat on it.
"Can I ask what happened or will a nuclear war break out?" Race inquires. Spot gave him a look, not quite pissed but more irritated by the thought. He was still soft though, most of the fire inside him had been extinguished earlier on their walk.
"Yeah so's I was working on the wood table like I dos every day! Then I went to reach for the hammer and some bozo had taken it."
"That's it?"
"Just keep on listening..." Spot reassured Race with a whisper. Tommy Boy continued.
"Not much of a big deal right? Well it is when he then claims he owns it, and me boss goes off at me for making 'false claims'. Now this hooligan is getting awarded for reporting me, who they think is some street rat." A few of the boys pat him on the back sympathetically. "I'm good at my job, they know it. No one can get a better finish than me. Now they throw me to the curb like a paper. I swore they wouldn't do that too me." He looked as if he'd cry, but he washed it away and put on a tough face; replacing the sadness with anger, the Brooklyn way.

"Jeez I'm real sorry about that..." Race looked at the grass, a silence spread among them. "Wanna split evenly and get a pizza?"
"Y E S" they all agreed whole heartedly, and off they went together. When split amongst the four of them, the total was only $1.00 which they managed fine.

"Oh yeah by the way, Albert found a turtle."
"What-" were they really surprised though?