Something to read!
I wrote something! It's semi-slash. And newsies fandom. I feel so alone...
*shiver*
Title: none
Rating: PG
Pairing: something rare-ish
Genre: fluff?
"Oh gosh, Mush, you look like hell!"
"What a greeting. Can I come in?"
Jack jumps out of the way. " Yeah, of course." Mush steps inside. "What happened, babe?"
"Nothing."
Jack nods. If that was the way the game would be played...
"So what are we doing tonight?"
Jack smiles. "I'm supposed to be grounded, but Dad went out so I called you. Nothing's really happening, persay. But we can hang out... And we are here alone."
"Yes, you seem to be stressing that part."
Jack smiles wider. "I rented some movies. Let's see if there's something we can watch."
Mush smiles too, knowing what Jack means by 'watch', but then winces. Painful.
"You sure you're alright?"
"Advil?"
"Of course, Mush." Jack fetches some Advil from the kitchen. Mush is sitting on the couch when he returns. "You want to tell me what happened?"
"No. You'll laugh."
"I won't." But that's the end of that conversation.
"Is this movie any good?" Jack asks, ten minutes in.
"Yeah. It gets better."
Jack sighs. Why does he always let Mush pick what they watch? The Day After Tomorrow... It had better get good fast. Where are all the special effects that had been hailed by the critics?
Oh, there they were. Big-ggg pieces of ice. Not that impressive, Jack thinks. He also thinks that sitting around, watching Dennis Quaid say stuff is a horrible waste of a night alone with his hot boyfriend.
Something had to be done. There was no chance that a movie about weather was going to steal his night. Weather, for chrissakes.
Jack pulls himself towards Mush on the couch, settling his arms around Mush's waist.
"Ah!" Mush yanks away. "Ow. Careful."
Jack frowns. He reaches over again and gingerly lifts the bottom of Mush's shirt. Thin, red lines criss-cross on his stomach and down into his jeans. Jack's jaw drops.
"What the hell! Mush... what the hell?" Jack jumps up from the couch.
"Okay, okay. Calm down," Mush says, holding up a placating hand. "I'm fine."
"What happened?"
"Jack-"
"No, what happened?"
"Jack, come on, just-"
"Mush! You have cuts all over your stomach, and brusies on your arms- yeah, I'm not blind, I saw those too- and one of the grossest black eyes I've ever seen. Tell me what happened to you."
"..."
"MUSH!"
"Okay, sit down, stop shouting. I'm going to tell you what happened, then you have to not laugh." Mush takes a deep breath. Jack sits down, though he doesn't calm down in the least.
"Okay, you know how I was gone for the last three days?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, I went uu to my uncle's house in the country. He lives on a farm, see. He convinced me to help him out with some chores. I got this one," he points to his black eye, "-from a cow. And the cuts are mostly from these stupid little bantam things."
"Bantams?"
"Yeah, they're basically little chickens. I had to move them into the new... chicken pen, I guess it was. They didn't like that too much. Dirty little bastards."
"Oh."
Mush glares. "What? I know you're thinking something. Say it."
"No, nothing. Does it hurt?"
"Not really..."
Jack moves closer to Mush again, and this time he carefully pulls Mush's shirt over his head. "There," he says. "Now I can see what I'm doing." He pushes Mush down and starts kissing the in-between skin around the chicken scratches.
Mush squirms with pleasure.
"You know, Mush? You're hot even if you look like hell."
"Don't, you'll make me blush."
Jack smiles up at his pretty, beat-up boy. "You come and get me next time the chickens come and try and get you, alright?"
"Yes, sir."
"Jack," a voices says. Jack freezes. His father was home early. "You're supposed to be grounded. Which means no guests. Daniel, you'll have to be getting up, dressed and home now. I would have- oh my God. Dan, you look like hell, what happened?"
The End.
I have a throat infection and now no one will come near me...