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“Ugh….” Spot let out a groan. He was sitting on the bench, hunched over, head in his hands.
“What?” Race asked absentmindedly.
“I just… Well, I can’t believe I’m sitting in jail with you people!” Spot exclaimed, sitting up and gesturing around the room. Er, holding cell.
“What d’you mean?” Jack turned to face the two boys. He looked around at the other people in the room with them, and amended his statement. “Ok, I see your point.”
Spot, Race, Jack, Katherine and Crutchie were currently in a holding cell at the local police station for refusing to leave the local grocery store. They were all going shopping for Les’ birthday the next day. Davey had been panicking about it not being perfect, so after he went to bed, Jack sent out a group text and the five of them met up at the corner store. It was late, and they were just a naturally rowdy group, so when the manager on duty had asked them to leave, they had laughed and refused. Well, Spot and Jack had refused, and the rest of them just didn’t answer.
When the manager saw how young some of them looked, he called the police when he feared for their safety. After all, what sane person would let five teens/young adults out to a grocery store close to one a.m.? So, that’s how they got to their current situation.
The police officer wasn’t very threatening, and they weren’t technically arrested, but they needed to call a legal guardian, and they closest they had was Davey. Since he wasn’t technically anyone’s actual guardian, the officer said it was going to take some time for them to be released.
So, they waited. It probably hadn’t been very long, but they were restless. Most of them. Crutchie just curled up in a corner and fell asleep. Jack had asked (multiple times) if they could have the snacks they were buying before they got ‘arrested,’ but the answer was, unsurprisingly, no.
Spot and Race goofed off for a while, cracking dumb jokes and stuff, but once it became clear that they’d be there for a while, they settled down in the corner opposite Crutchie.
Spot immediately curled up, tucked his legs into his chest and lay his head on his knees. Race, unused to seeing his boyfriend like this, slid down the wall next to him and started rubbing comforting circles on Spot’s shoulder. “You wanna talk?” He whispered.
“It’s nothing, it’s just… I’d feel so bad if we got in legit trouble about this, ya know? Like, we wanted to help out Dave and Les but if he has to come bail us out of fucking jail, then, like, we haven’t actually helped,” Spot said. He tried to whisper, but it was a well-worn joke among the newsies that Spot Conlon legitimately could not whisper if his life depended on it. So, Jack and Kath simply pretended not to hear.
“I get it, but like, we’ll be fine, ‘kay? Davey will show up and he’ll laugh and we’ll all go to bed and Les and the others don’t even have to know,” Race said.
“Yeah but maybe it won’t be okay,” Spot countered.
“Spot, you’re spiraling again. Remember what we talked about, right?” Race said, a grounding presence.
“I know, I know, just breathe and focus on the present,” Spot recited.
“Exactly. And what’s the present now?”
“Davey will be here soon, and you’re next to me, so it can’t be all bad,” Spot murmured into his knee.
When he heard the last part, Race froze for a moment. His voice broke as he said, “Yeah. Yeah, exactly. I’m here, and it’ll be okay.”
~
After Davey had arrived and sorted things out with the officer, the group broke off. Jack accompanied Davey back to the Jacobs residence, claiming that they had party planning to do, but everyone knew their ulterior motive, and Kath made sure Crutchie was good for the night before taking off to her apartment. Race walked Spot home.
When they got to Spot’s door, Race leaned in, planning to give the other boy a quick goodnight kiss and head back to Manhattan, but Spot’s arms wrapped around his waist as his mouth went to his ear. “Stay? Just… Stay. Please.”
“Of… of course,” Race answered, nearly breathless.
Without another word, Spot led them inside, arm still around Race’s middle.
They got to the bedroom, and silently undressed. They fell onto the sheets together, Race pulling up the dark fleece over both of their bodies. “You okay?” He checked on his boyfriend.
“I’m fine, it just feels dumb to be so… worked up about tonight, ya know? Like, it was supposed to be fun and careless and whatever and it did all end up being fine and shit but I dunno, I still feel shitty,” Spot answered.
“Yeah, I get it,” Race replied, knowing in his heart that he actually didn’t get it, really. He remembered Spot’s past, and chose his words carefully. “One stupid, harmless stunt isn’t gonna get you in trouble, babe.” Spot would usually protest at the pet name, but today he just let Race keep talking. “I don’t think it even went on our records, and we all know we did nothing wrong, okay?”
“Yeah,” Spot replied, voice quiet. He pulled Race towards him, in an unusual display of affection. “I’m glad I have you,” he murmured into his boyfriend’s ear.
“I’m glad to be yours,” Race responded.
The two fell asleep like that, all tangled up, grateful for each other’s presence.