- Chapter 20 - The Kind that Turns a Delancey's Head -
Warnings: Mentions of abuse
Canon Era
Third Person POV

A/N I have a book on Oscar x Race titled 'Okay, for Tonight' and I fell in love with this ship, so I'm writing this ship again. (It's cover.)

Race was adorable.

He had this- this smile!

The Italian in his New York accent that was only a tiny bit noticeable, unless he got mad, then it was more noticeable.

Subconsciously rubbing an injury that he had or a place where a past injury had been. (This made it very hard for him to hide injuries.)

Tugging on the strap of his paper bag or tugging on his shirt collar or sleeve end when he was nervous.

His laugh.

His protectiveness and how he was with kids. He was so good with kids.

How he looked with his hair messed up when his brothers ruffled his hair.

The annoyance that actually looked adorable when his brothers babied or reminded him that he was the youngest.

His freckles.

His smarts and attention to detail.

Jack picked a good Second in Command.

He fought well, but was outnumbered easily.

Even then, a black eye didn't take anything away from his beauty.

So yeah, Race was just- adorable and a gift from the Heavens. (And Oscar didn't even believe in Heaven.)

Oscar wanted to either stab him or kiss him.

Growing up in abusive homes, Oscar didn't learn good ways to get rid of emotions.

Unless they hurt him or his brother, Oscar hadn't gotten in any fights/hurt a street kid (or any kid for that matter) for nine months.

He had been trying for longer, but having Weasel and Snyder watching him made it difficult since they would beat or Morris if he didn't beat them up.

Now, they trusted the Delancey brothers enough to leave them alone when they were supposed to be beating up street kids or kids in the Refuge.

He never did.

Oscar fell back against the wall, ignoring his fists that were dripping with blood.

"Stupid dirty, blonde curls that look so soft." Oscar mumbles, eyes squeezed closed. "Stupid beautiful, blue eyes. Stupid pretty singing voice, stupid flirty winks that actually drive me insane. Stupid adorable-"

"You've fallen hard." A familiar voice cuts off Oscar's rant.

Oscar's eyes shoot open.

Morris, Albert, and Spot stood in front of him.

"What in papesicals?" Oscar mumbles, getting up, and ignoring the bit of pain from his hands.

The three boys chuckle together.

"You can't do that." Spot's eyes flick to Oscar's hands. "Not healthy."

"Sorry that I wasn't taught healthy coping habits." Oscar retorts with an eye roll. "Would you rather I go punch a street kid?"

Spot rolls his eyes.

"Race grew up in an abusive household as well," Albert starts, eyes fixated on Oscar's hands. "He digs his nails into his arms."

Oscar stays silent.

"Besides," Albert's green eyes meet Oscar's green eyes again. "You wouldn't want to break your streak now, would you?"

Oscar's eyes widen. "How do you-"

Albert cut him off. "I pay attention, Oscar. None of the Manhattan Newsies have gotten soaked by you two and we had an allie from the Drifters who went to the Refuge recently. Word from them says that you actually helped them." Albert stares into his eyes. "You've bit your tongue every time Weasel insults us and have even helped one of our youngest get away from Snyder."

"I paid damn well for that." Oscar mumbles, rubbing his arm nervously. "Besides, you're not the only ones Weasel insults." Oscar frowns a bit.

"Can't you do anything right?"

"Come on, stupid! Actually do something!"

"You're the biggest mistake I've ever seen!"

Morris wraps his arms around his brother. "Aww, Osc..."

"Besides," Oscar starts, looking back up at Albert and Spot. "Why does that mean I have crush on one of you? It just means that I've realized what I've been taught to do is wrong."

"Because you were just ranting about a stupid, blonde boy, with pretty, blue eyes, with a beautiful singing, cute win-" Albert starts.

"Okay, okay!" Oscar shouts, cutting him off. "I got your point!" He huffs.

"Shall I mention that you blush every time your eyes meet, he winks, and you stare at him when ever you see him." Albert adds.

"How do you know this stuff?" Oscar questions, jaw dropped.

Albert shrugs. "I'm observant."

"He doesn't even like me back." Oscar mumbles. "And I've fallen head over heels for him." Oscar smacks himself.

Morris grabs his wrists, stopping him.

Oscar rolls his eyes.

"Oscar," Spot starts, worry seeping into his features. "I've known you for almost your whole life," He gently tilts Oscar's head upwards to look at him. "You need to stop lying to yourself; he has fallen almost as hard as you have."

"I need to leave," Oscar mumbles, trying to pull away from his brother and Spot.

"Not before I get to talk to you." Another voice states from behind Albert.

Jack stood there, arms crossed, but his face and eyes looked worried, confused, and a whole bunch of other emotions.

Oscar's eyes widen.

Before Oscar could react, he was sat down in circle with the other boys and Specs was there now.

"What is this? Some sort of witch circle?" Oscar mumbles, looking around at the boys.

The boys chuckle a bit.

Morris sat on Oscar's left and Spot was on the other side of Morris. Jack sat across from Oscar and Specs was to Oscar's right.

Specs looks to Morris.

Morris nods.

"Can I see your hands?" Specs asks Oscar.

Oscar knew that this would get him nowhere, but he shook his head, stubbornly.

Albert facepalms. He and Race would be perfect together.

Spot threw Oscar a look, and Morris was on the verge of facepalming like Albert had.

"Oscar, are you going to cooperate with us?" Jack questions. "Or should we force you to like we have to do with Race?"

"Is that why I sometimes see him glaring at certain Newsies, like you?" Oscar questions, trying to avoid Jack's question.

"Yes." Jack answers. "But you can't distract us that easily. Answer the question."

Oscar let Specs take his hand.

"That was so much easier than it normally is." Morris mumbles, his chin resting in his hand.

"This is normal?" Every Newsie there asks in unison.

Oscar rolls his eyes, as Morris nods.

Jack turns to Oscar. "You like my brother?" He asks.

"Uh..." Oscar hesitates. "No?" His voice cracks a bit.

Multiple Newsies roll their eyes, Jack included.

"The only way I'm letting you date him, since I have reason to believe that you have changed," Oscar looks up at him. "Is if you aren't living with Weasel."

Oscar tilts his head to the side. "How would that ever work?" He questions. "Morris doesn't turn 18 for another month."

"Run away and become Brooklyn Newsies." Spot answers, mentally facepalming at how dense Oscar could be.

Oscar goes to respond, but ends up hissing in pain as Specs bandages and puts medicine on his right hand.

Oscar tries to pull his hand away from Specs, but Specs had a pretty tight grip on his wrist.

"That'd never work." Oscar spits out, gritting his teeth in pain.

"You don't know that." Albert responds. "What if it did work?"

"It's not going to." Oscar responds, hastily pulling his hand away from Specs when Specs' grip loosened since he had been trying to grab more bandages.

"Oscar," Specs' voice was calming. "I haven't finished treating your hand."

Oscar had to admit, Specs' voice almost made him give him his hand again, but that was not happening.

Morris wraps his arms around his brother, pulling him against him. "Oscar, you look horrible."

"Gee, thanks Mo!" Oscar responds, sarcastically.

Morris ignores him, bruising his hair away from his eyes. "Why didn't you sleep last night?"

"Snyder forced me to go on his nightly patrol with him." Oscar whispers. "I'm surprised he didn't beat me because he was mad that street kids are smart enough to have learned his times."

Morris frowns.

"In all honesty, Oscar," Jack starts. "I don't think he's smart enough to have realized that we have learned them."

A few of the boys, including the Delanceys, laugh.

Oscar didn't realize that Spot was holding his hand for Specs until he had started treating it again.

"Curse you!" Oscar bites out, gritting his teeth again.

"What are you? A witch?" Spot mocks.

Oscar rolls his eyes, reaching out with his other hand and smacking Spot upside the head.

Morris grabs his hand, pulling it so he didn't hurt himself or Spot again.

Spot glares at him.

Oscar just smiles smugly, but it didn't last long as Specs was back to bandaging his hand.

"If you stop touching my hands, I'll go to Brooklyn!" Oscar exclaims, trying to pull his hand back.

"Sorry, Oscar. I can't in good conscious leave your hand like this." Specs responds, shooting him a pitiful look, before turning back to his hand. "These cuts are pretty deep."

"Also, we were gonna force you to go to Brooklyn anyway, so..." Spot trails off, whistling a bit.

Oscar stares at him. "I hate you."

"Yeah," Spot shrugs. "You usually do."

Oscar rolls his eyes.

1574 Words
Sorry, we didn't see any of Race in this lol, but they are both crushing on each other.