Work Text:
January, 1899
Sounds of soft snores and rustles filled the lodging house. The cold winter weather had tuckered out the newsboys, and they were all fast asleep, except for Race. Race hated winter.
With his knees to his chest, Race wrapped his thin blanket tightly around himself. He stared out the window, shivering at the thought of going out in the snow the next morning. He sighed, almost able to see his breath in front of him. His gaze fell on Jack and Crutchie, who slept in doors when it was cold. The two boys were cuddled together on the bottom bunk of a bed, keeping each other warm.
He sat upright, immediately feeling the cold air sting his skin. Race hung his head over the edge of his bunk. His bunkmate and best friend in the entire world, Albert DaSilva, was fast asleep. Race huffed, pursing his lips. “Albert.” He whispered, watching the red head’s chest rise and fall. “Albert.” He whispered again, this time at a slight shout. Nothing. Race rolled his eyes and muttered mocking words under his breath.
He grabbed his pillow and lightly whacked Albert. The red head shot up into a sitting position, nearly screaming when he saw a figure staring at him from the bed above. He pulled his fist back, ready to swing.
“Woah! Woah!” Race whisper-shouted, waving one of his hands in front of him. “Albert, it’s me.”
Albert furrowed his brows. “Why the hell did ya wake me up in the middle of the night?” He hissed in a whispered voice.
“I’m cold and I can’t sleep.” Race muttered, gripping the bed frame to hold himself in place.
“What do ya want me ta do about it?” Albert responded, crossing his arms.
“Lay with me.”
“No.” Albert muttered, laying back down facing away from Race.
“Please.” Race pouted. Albert shook his head, his red hair bouncing freely. “Please, Albie.”
“No, ya smell like cigars.” Albert muttered, waving Race off with his hand. Race huffed, pushing himself back into his bed. He pulled his sheet-like blanket back over his body. He curled up under the blanket, and clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from clattering.
The bunk creaked and the weight shifted. The mattress sunk in behind Race and an arm draped over his side.
“I thought ya didn’t want to.” Race huffed.
“I’m cold too.” Albert muttered, breathing warm air onto the back of Race’s neck. He shivered at first at the breath on his neck, but he relaxed at the warmth. Race was able to get some decent sleep that night.
Perhaps winter wasn’t so bad.