The rain pounded on Daniel "Snitch" Riccio's head as he walked calmly back to the Lodging House. It was later than usual, but later meant greater intake. He grinned to himself and put his hand into the yellow bag that hung around his leg. Full. Of course. Sticky Fingers + Late Night = Full Bag of Loot. He'd make plenty of money tomorrow, if you added the pape selling to the loot he had now.

"Heya, Snitch!"

Snitch turned. "Oh! Heya! Whattaya doin' out heah so late?"

His friend smiled widely. "Havin' a good, old-fashioned party. Youse?"

Snitch rattled his loot bag. "Gettin' some extra loot fer tomorrah."

The other boy laughed, and Snitch noticed something strange about the way he laughed. It was different from his usual happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care laugh.

Snitch shook the idea away. This was Louis "Kid Blink" Ballatt, the blonde newsie that was loved by everyone, the pretty-boy that could always make you laugh. Snitch had to admit a light attraction to him, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Blink threw his arm around Snitch's shoulder. "So's…youse headin' back to da Lodgin' House?" He asked. Snitch wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol on his friend's breath.

"Blink, youse been drinkin'! Youse know what Kloppman t'inks a us drinkin'!" Snitch admonished, pushing Blink away.

Blink grinned in the dark. "Yeh, I knows. But I doan care. I's in need a drink, so's I goes n gets drunk! Dat's how da woild woiks, Snitchy-boy."

Snitch shook his head. "Doan call me dat, Blink. Le's getcha home."

He started to put his arm around Blink to keep the other boy from falling when Blink suddenly cried out in protest.

"No! Lemme go, doan touch me!" He shouted, pushing Snitch into a dark alleyway. Snitch stumbled and fell onto his back. Pain shot up his spine from his thighs, and he cried out, both in surprise and pain.

And before he could even try to ask what was wrong, Blink was on him. The taller newsboy was smiling drunkenly as he leaned over Snitch's face.

"Gotcha now, Snitchy-boy." He whispered, pressing his mouth against the young thief's. Snitch's eyes widened and he struggled against Blink's strong grip. Blink released Snitch's mouth, but not his body. "I's been wantin' dis fer a while, Snitch." He said quietly, sitting up straight, straddling Snitch's stomach. "I jus' had ta get fallin' down drunk ta try it."

Snitch started to sweat. "Wha…Whatcha plannin', Blink?"

Blink smiled slowly and leaned down closer to Snitch, until their faces almost touched once more.

"I t'ink youse know what I's plannin', Snitch." Blink whispered, kissing the little thief again. Snitch struggled, futilely, as Blink undressed him. Snitch knew enough about New York life to know he should keep his mouth shut as Blink had his way. Even a drunk Blink wouldn't hurt him purposely, but there were other sickos out there, others that knew the cry of the weak and would come running to eat their fill of it.

But by the end, Snitch couldn't keep himself from crying hysterically, muttering Blink's name over and over again…