Newsies - "Scared"
Title: Scared
Fandom: Newsies
Rating: R
Pairing: None, sort of . . . you'll see.
Disclaimer: Newsies is not mine.
Summary: “Spot, why ain’t you ever had a gal you kept for more than sex?”
Author's Note: This is an old story. I'm in the process of heavily editing all of the one-shots I have on my ff.net account and moving them here, and this is the first of the batch.
“Spot, why ain’t you ever had a gal you kept for more than sex?”
Spot slowly turned to face the speaker. Buck's question had come from nowhere. Spot cocked an eyebrow, challenging the other boy to continue.
“You best watch your fuckin’ mouth, Buck,” Spot said softly, menacingly. Buck was one of Spot’s best newsies. Had anyone else dared to ask Spot something like that, he would have soaked them on the spot. But since Spot had always harbored a fondness for Buck (or at least as close as to fondness as Spot Conlon got), he got off with a mere warning.
Buck shut his mouth, and Spot, satisfied, went back to his cigarette; after several minutes of silence, however, Buck spoke again. “I think you’se scared.”
Spot closed his eyes for a moment. “Buck, this is you’re last fuckin’ chance to shut the hell up ‘for I soak the daylights outta you.”
“You’se scared to admit you got feelings somewhere in you. You’se scared to have a anyone mean anything, 'specially. Scared to love-”
Buck’s words were cut short as a fist collided with his cheek. His head was jerked to the side, and he brought a hand up to his face, closing his eyes in pain.
But Spot wasn’t done yet. He grabbed Buck by the collar, pulling him so he was face to face with the Brooklyn leader.
“I’m Spot Conlon, and Spot Conlon ain’t fuckin’ scared of nothin’,” he spat, and with that gave Buck a hard shove, sending his friend sprawling to the ground. He brought his foot hard into Buck’s stomach once, twice, landing kick after kick to the beaten boy.
Finally, he stopped, folding his arms across his chest and staring indifferently down at Buck.
Buck pulled himself into a sitting position. He coughed violently into his hand, and when he pulled it away, his hand was smeared with blood. He grimaced and wiped the blood on his pants.
“Ugh,” he groaned. He spat a bloody wad into the ground. His mouth hurt like hell, and, after running his tongue across his teeth, he realized that the pain was coming from two gaps that had been occupied by teeth moments before. “Shit.”
“I fuckin’ warned you.” Buck looked up to see Spot still standing over him. “You just don’t know when to shut your goddamned mouth, do you?”
“Spot-”
“Be glad that’s all you got, Buck,” Spot said coldly and walked away.
Buck groaned again and tried to stand up, wincing at the pain that shot through his body. What had made him think it was a good idea to carry on the way he had?
“You’se scared to admit you got feeling somewhere in you . . . Scared to love . . .”
Spot kicked a pebble furiously as he walked. He couldn’t believe that Buck had had the nerve to say that to him. Who did the bastard think he was, anyway? Nobody talked to Spot Conlon that way. Nobody.
But something Buck had said had really struck a nerve in Spot. Of course he wasn’t scared. Spot Conlon wasn’t scared of anything.
“If I wanted a girl to love, I could get one,” he muttered to himself.
A leader couldn’t love. Spot’s boys came first. Always. Spot couldn’t even consider putting them second to some girl. He couldn’t love anyone. Didn’t need to love anyone. Didn't want to love anyone.
“Goddamnit,” he yelled furiously. He didn’t want anyone. Never had. So why had Buck’s comment hit home so hard?
“So, what’s a kid like you doin’ out here at this time ‘a night?”
Spot turned at the girl’s sweet voice. She was young, about Spot’s age - nah, maybe a couple of years older, with fiery red hair and light green eyes. She was curvy, and the dress she was wearing did little to hide her features. Spot felt the familiar burning sensation as his body reacted to her.
She was beautiful.
“Well,” Spot smirked, putting on his charm. Maybe what he needed was just a good fuck. “I’m just doin’ a bit ‘a thinkin’. But what’s a lady like you doin’ out here at this time ‘a night?”
"A lady?" The girl laughed, a light musical giggle. “Oh, you’re cute, kid. I’m workin' ‘a course, what do you think?”
Spot’s smirk faded a bit. She was a whore. He’d never had a whore before. Always considered himself too good for one. He had a soft spot for virgins. But they were a little hard to come by around here.
He considered.
This girl was gorgeous. And Spot needed his mind off of things.
“How much?”
“Kid, fuckin’ relax!”
“Sorry,” Spot muttered. He wasn’t sure where this sudden bout of nerves had come from. It wasn’t like he was a virgin.
The girl undressed herself and lay down invitingly on the bed. Spot quickly undid his trousers and moved towards her hungrily, placing himself between her legs.
There was a brief silence, and then Spot entered the girl with a groan.
They didn’t speak as they fucked. The only sounds in the room were those of heavy breathing as Spot thrust into the girl repeatedly, and of her over dramatized sighs and moans. After a few moments, he grunted his release and collapsed on top of her.
Spot withdrew and rolled off of the girl and they lay there in silence, allowing the pleasure to fade.
“What’s wrong, kid?” The girl broke the silence. Spot turned and glared at her, waiting for her to continue. “You’ve never had a whore before, I can tell. So what were you tryin’ to prove to yourself?”
“Tell me you love me.”
“What? Kid-”
“You don’t have to fuckin’ mean it! Just say it, alright?”
“I ain’t s’posed to say that to clients. It’ll cost you extra.”
“Whatever. Just fuckin’ say it.”
“. . . I love ya, kid.”
“Say it like you fuckin’ mean it. Make me believe you.”
The girl’s eyes were blank for a minute, and then her face softened. She smiled.
“I love you.”
“Buck.” The newsie turned from tending his injuries to see Spot standing in the doorway to the lodging house. His face turned stony and he went back to what he was doing. “You deserved it, you know.”
Buck said nothing.
Spot sighed. He hated admitting fear. He didn't admit fear. Spot Conlon wasn't scared of anything, and Spot Conlon was never wrong. “I guess you’re right.” He spat the words out, and they left a bitter taste in his mouth. Buck stared at him. “I guess maybe I am scared a little.”
Fandom: Newsies
Rating: R
Pairing: None, sort of . . . you'll see.
Disclaimer: Newsies is not mine.
Summary: “Spot, why ain’t you ever had a gal you kept for more than sex?”
Author's Note: This is an old story. I'm in the process of heavily editing all of the one-shots I have on my ff.net account and moving them here, and this is the first of the batch.
“Spot, why ain’t you ever had a gal you kept for more than sex?”
Spot slowly turned to face the speaker. Buck's question had come from nowhere. Spot cocked an eyebrow, challenging the other boy to continue.
“You best watch your fuckin’ mouth, Buck,” Spot said softly, menacingly. Buck was one of Spot’s best newsies. Had anyone else dared to ask Spot something like that, he would have soaked them on the spot. But since Spot had always harbored a fondness for Buck (or at least as close as to fondness as Spot Conlon got), he got off with a mere warning.
Buck shut his mouth, and Spot, satisfied, went back to his cigarette; after several minutes of silence, however, Buck spoke again. “I think you’se scared.”
Spot closed his eyes for a moment. “Buck, this is you’re last fuckin’ chance to shut the hell up ‘for I soak the daylights outta you.”
“You’se scared to admit you got feelings somewhere in you. You’se scared to have a anyone mean anything, 'specially. Scared to love-”
Buck’s words were cut short as a fist collided with his cheek. His head was jerked to the side, and he brought a hand up to his face, closing his eyes in pain.
But Spot wasn’t done yet. He grabbed Buck by the collar, pulling him so he was face to face with the Brooklyn leader.
“I’m Spot Conlon, and Spot Conlon ain’t fuckin’ scared of nothin’,” he spat, and with that gave Buck a hard shove, sending his friend sprawling to the ground. He brought his foot hard into Buck’s stomach once, twice, landing kick after kick to the beaten boy.
Finally, he stopped, folding his arms across his chest and staring indifferently down at Buck.
Buck pulled himself into a sitting position. He coughed violently into his hand, and when he pulled it away, his hand was smeared with blood. He grimaced and wiped the blood on his pants.
“Ugh,” he groaned. He spat a bloody wad into the ground. His mouth hurt like hell, and, after running his tongue across his teeth, he realized that the pain was coming from two gaps that had been occupied by teeth moments before. “Shit.”
“I fuckin’ warned you.” Buck looked up to see Spot still standing over him. “You just don’t know when to shut your goddamned mouth, do you?”
“Spot-”
“Be glad that’s all you got, Buck,” Spot said coldly and walked away.
Buck groaned again and tried to stand up, wincing at the pain that shot through his body. What had made him think it was a good idea to carry on the way he had?
“You’se scared to admit you got feeling somewhere in you . . . Scared to love . . .”
Spot kicked a pebble furiously as he walked. He couldn’t believe that Buck had had the nerve to say that to him. Who did the bastard think he was, anyway? Nobody talked to Spot Conlon that way. Nobody.
But something Buck had said had really struck a nerve in Spot. Of course he wasn’t scared. Spot Conlon wasn’t scared of anything.
“If I wanted a girl to love, I could get one,” he muttered to himself.
A leader couldn’t love. Spot’s boys came first. Always. Spot couldn’t even consider putting them second to some girl. He couldn’t love anyone. Didn’t need to love anyone. Didn't want to love anyone.
“Goddamnit,” he yelled furiously. He didn’t want anyone. Never had. So why had Buck’s comment hit home so hard?
“So, what’s a kid like you doin’ out here at this time ‘a night?”
Spot turned at the girl’s sweet voice. She was young, about Spot’s age - nah, maybe a couple of years older, with fiery red hair and light green eyes. She was curvy, and the dress she was wearing did little to hide her features. Spot felt the familiar burning sensation as his body reacted to her.
She was beautiful.
“Well,” Spot smirked, putting on his charm. Maybe what he needed was just a good fuck. “I’m just doin’ a bit ‘a thinkin’. But what’s a lady like you doin’ out here at this time ‘a night?”
"A lady?" The girl laughed, a light musical giggle. “Oh, you’re cute, kid. I’m workin' ‘a course, what do you think?”
Spot’s smirk faded a bit. She was a whore. He’d never had a whore before. Always considered himself too good for one. He had a soft spot for virgins. But they were a little hard to come by around here.
He considered.
This girl was gorgeous. And Spot needed his mind off of things.
“How much?”
“Kid, fuckin’ relax!”
“Sorry,” Spot muttered. He wasn’t sure where this sudden bout of nerves had come from. It wasn’t like he was a virgin.
The girl undressed herself and lay down invitingly on the bed. Spot quickly undid his trousers and moved towards her hungrily, placing himself between her legs.
There was a brief silence, and then Spot entered the girl with a groan.
They didn’t speak as they fucked. The only sounds in the room were those of heavy breathing as Spot thrust into the girl repeatedly, and of her over dramatized sighs and moans. After a few moments, he grunted his release and collapsed on top of her.
Spot withdrew and rolled off of the girl and they lay there in silence, allowing the pleasure to fade.
“What’s wrong, kid?” The girl broke the silence. Spot turned and glared at her, waiting for her to continue. “You’ve never had a whore before, I can tell. So what were you tryin’ to prove to yourself?”
“Tell me you love me.”
“What? Kid-”
“You don’t have to fuckin’ mean it! Just say it, alright?”
“I ain’t s’posed to say that to clients. It’ll cost you extra.”
“Whatever. Just fuckin’ say it.”
“. . . I love ya, kid.”
“Say it like you fuckin’ mean it. Make me believe you.”
The girl’s eyes were blank for a minute, and then her face softened. She smiled.
“I love you.”
“Buck.” The newsie turned from tending his injuries to see Spot standing in the doorway to the lodging house. His face turned stony and he went back to what he was doing. “You deserved it, you know.”
Buck said nothing.
Spot sighed. He hated admitting fear. He didn't admit fear. Spot Conlon wasn't scared of anything, and Spot Conlon was never wrong. “I guess you’re right.” He spat the words out, and they left a bitter taste in his mouth. Buck stared at him. “I guess maybe I am scared a little.”