Snitch stared out the window, entranced by the lights and sounds of Nashville. It was better than the Vegas trip he'd taken with Specs and Dutchy the year before; all the prostitutes there had made Snitch uncomfortable, and he didn't like gambling anyway.

He liked country music, though. Hence why he leapt at the chance to join Jack on this escapade.

"I won four tickets to the CMA Country Music Festival in Nashville," Jack had said. "Toby, Martina, Brad, John Michael, Terri-"

"You had me at Toby!" Snitch squealed, grabbing for a ticket. "Who else are you taking?"

"You, me, and Christa," Jack answered, referring to his current girlfriend.

"And the last ticket?"

"Do you know anyone else in our circle that likes country?"

"...No."

Jack grinned. "I'm selling it over Ebay. And who knows?" He leaned over and nudged Snitch. "The tickets are all together. Maybe the buyer will be a cute cowboy queer like you?"

Now, Snitch smiled and watched the lights pass over the window. Jack had rented a silver Ford Ranger for the stay, and he and Christa were up front, going old school with Johnny Cash. Snitch was stuck in the cramped confines that Jack called 'the backseat,' checking out neon lights and lip-synching with his friends.

"Aw, c'mon, Snitchy," Christa wheedled. "Sing louder! This is a fun night!"

Snitch shrugged. "I'm saving my voice for the concert."

"But you love this song!" She then proceeded to sing it for him: "I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue!"

Snitch laughed. "Nah, it's okay. I'm observing."

"It's prettier than New York, isn't it?" Jack offered.

"Neon Cowgirls or Neon girls in bikinis. Hm." Snitch grinned. "To be honest, I don't really want either, but if forced, I'll take cowgirls."

"Aw, poor Snitchy." Christa reached back and petted his head. "You need a boyfriend."

"You're telling me." Snitch sighed. "Are we there yet?"

"No. And are you planning on picking up someone up?" Jack glanced in the rearview mirror. "Is that why you're dressed up?"

Snitch glanced down at his American flag wife-beater and tight, torn blue jeans. "This is dressed up?"

"For you? Yes."

"Well, then, I guess I'd like to pick someone up. But you know country fans." Snitch sighed heavily.

"Ah, the conservative curse of country. Damn Merle Haggard!" Jack laughed. "No wait, scratch that. Worship Merle, damn the Dixie Chicks."

"Shut up. You're being stupid. And it's not my fault that I was raised on country music and am therefore a cowfag." Christa found this term deliciously funny, and started to giggle madly as Jack pulled into a parking spot.

"Well, someday, Snitch, you will meet another cowfag and you will go live on a ranch and raise plenty of little cowboys and cowgirls, and you will be happy like Darryl Worley at a USO show." Jack opened his door. "Now get out of my truck. And don't forget your crap."

Snitch grabbed his white cowboy hat and the American flag he'd brought for Toby, Darryl and Martina's performances, then climbed out of the truck. "I thought it was a rental."

"...Fuck you."

Snitch grinned and put his hat on. "C'mon, enough dilly-dallying. Let's roll, guys."

"Floor seats, floor seats, floor seats!" Christa chanted as they went into the stadium. Jack rolled his eyes as Snitch searched for the right row.

"I told you they were floor seats! Didn't you listen?"

"Of course I did! It just didn't click until right now!"

Snitch smiled. "Okay, you two can shut up now. This is our row."

"Ten rows from the stage!" Christa screeched, making Jack jump and grab his ears.

"Ow! Jesus, woman!"

"Oh. Uh, sorry."

Snitch led the way down the aisle to their seats, whispering apologies to those who were already seated. That was the one bad thing about having center seats; you had to climb over everyone else. But it was worth it.

Snitch's heart started pounding in his chest. Here he was, at the biggest country music event of the year, after the CMA Awards, of course. And he was going to see the greats; even Hank Williams Jr. was here. He shut his eyes in ecstasy; this would be the greatest night of his young life.

"Excuse me."

Snitch looked up and got to his feet, surprised. "Oh, uh, sorry."

A young man, possibly the prettiest Snitch had ever seen, was smiling shyly at him, trying to get past. "No, it's okay."

"No, really, I wasn't paying attention." But I am now, Snitch thought, glancing up and down the other boy's lean body. He wore a sleeveless flannel shirt and tattered denim shorts with a bandanna tied around his head, fluffing his hair up and down. "Hey, are you the guy that bought the ticket off Ebay?"

The other boy's face lit up. "Yeah!" He stuck out a hand Snitch shook it. "Call me Skittery."

"Snitch. How much did you end up getting the ticket for?"

Skittery whistled. "Took most of last week's paycheck to pay for it, but hey! If I get to see Brad Paisley live? It's totally worth it!"

Snitch smiled and sat back down, admiring Skittery's rather large belt buckle. "Paisley fan?"

"Hell yeah!" Skittery took his seat next to Snitch. "I'm a West Virginia boy, just like Brad. Gotta support fellow Mountaineers!"

Snitch laughed. "I'm a Toby fanboy myself."

"Toby? As in, Toby Keith?" Skittery applauded, grinning. "Aw, Toby! That man is a god!"

"Thank you!" Snitch beamed and shook his head. "See, my friend Jack over there? He doesn't understand the attitudinal genius that is Toby Keith." Snitch took a chance and put his hand on Skittery's shoulder. "It's good to finally meet someone who appreciates him."

"As long as you appreciate Brad."

"And I'm gonna miss her," Snitch sang, imitating the Southern accent that both Brad and Skittery emitted, and making Skittery laugh.

"Cool. We're set then."

"Yeah." Snitch watched as Skittery placed something under his chair. "What's that?"

"Hm? Oh. Heh." Skittery smiled sheepishly. "A sign. For Brad."

"Can I see?" Skittery hesitated, then pulled the sign out again, displaying it modestly, his eyes cast downwards.

It was a plain white sign with decorative pink and green letters screaming "Brad- Make Me Your Celebrity!"

Snitch laughed. "That's cute. Did your sister make it for you?"

Skittery blushed darker. "...I don't have a sister."

Snitch blinked. "Then... oh." A smile slowly crawled up his face. "Oh."

"Oh, what?" Skittery challenged, but dimming lights and a stadium full of screaming, drunk country fans cut off his answer. A guitar riff rang out, and the audience was on its feet as Brooks and Dunn came on stage, opening the concert with "My Maria." Christa hooted, and she and Jack waved their matching black cowboy hats over their heads.

The night had begun.

Skittery and Snitch didn't speak again until Toby Keith's performance. The large singer sauntered onto the stage, and Snitch released a high-pitched squeal and grabbed his flag before climbing up on his chair and holding it up. It was too large, though, and he struggled to keep it off the floor. "Christa, help me!"

"No way! I wanna actually see the show!"

"Here." To Snitch's surprise, Skittery got up on his chair and helped him hold the flag up. "Now Toby will see."

Snitch grinned at him. "Well... thanks."

"Not a problem." Skittery grinned back. "Just help me with my sign when Brad comes on."

Snitch tipped his hat. "You got it, hombre."

Then they fell into silence, only opening their mouths to sing and scream when Toby sang the line that epitomized his personality:

it's the American way!"

They spoke again when the song ended, but only for Snitch to ask Skittery to help him fold the flag again until Darrly Worley's performance, and for Skittery to agree.

The flag was folded and resting safely on Snitch's chair before the boys realized Toby was singing one of his lovely, slower songs, the ones that made you say "That's the same ass that sang 'Who's Your Daddy?'"

"'Cause I'll just close my eyes/ And I won't know where I'm at" Toby was crooning on-stage, just as Snitch turned to look at Skittery. Blue spotlights swam over the crowd, and Skittery had a lighter in the air. The lights shadowed the curves and lines on his face, brightened his dark eyes; Snitch couldn't help but stare.

"Skittery," he ventured once he regained control. "Skittery, will you share?"

"Share?" Skittery looked confused until Snitch gestured to his lighter. "Oh, uh... sure. Okay."

Slowly, Snitch reached up and gripped Skittery's wrist, feeling the crackle in his fingertips as the other boy's pulse quickened under his touch.

Maybe the buyer will be a cute little cowboy queer like you.

"Maybe," Snitch whispered inaudibly to himself, smiling as his shoulder pressed against Skittery's, as he flirted by running his thumb over the soft skin beneath.

Skittery shivered.

Snitch smiled.

The boys held up the flag again for Darryl Worley's "Have You Forgotten?" as well as Martina McBride's "Independence Day." For kicks, Snitch sang "This One's For the Girls" to Skittery, twirling the other boy under his arm and ignoring Jack and Christa's conspiratorial whispers and mischievous glances.

Then came Brad Paisley. Now it was Skittery who leapt onto his chair with a screech of delight, and Snitch, as promised, jumped up to help him hold his sign.

"I just... adore Brad," Skittery gushed, bouncing on his toes. Snitch gave him a testy smirk.

"Got a man-crush?"

"Man-crush?" Skittery honestly looked confused, and Snitch chuckled.

"A straight guy that's so obsessed with another man that it's almost a crush?"

"Oh." Skittery gave Snitch a once-over, then smirked right back. "I'm not straight."

"Really?" Snitch feigned surprise. "Me neither."

"Really?" Skittery grinned. "Hm. Interesting."

"I can fall in and out of love/ have marriages that barely last a month!" Brad sang cheerily. Skittery glanced at the stage, then back at Snitch.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty. You?"

"Nineteen." Skittery smiled. "What school do you go to?"

"NYU."

"Should've known. You have the accent."

"Heh. Where do you go?"

"Princeton."

"Wow. Ivy League."

"Yeah. I'm a prodigy." Skittery shrugged. "And an oddity. Raised on Merle Haggard and Alabama. Can't help the gay thing."

"That's my story." Snitch grinned. "...You don't live that far from me."

"A few hours." The song ended as Brad's only, and the boys hopped off their chairs. "Not too bad."

"Yeah." Snitch looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. "So if we wanted to, I dunno, maybe... get together sometime after this, it wouldn't be that hard to arrange."

"No, it wouldn't." Skittery bit his lip and scratched his head. "We could meet on weekends. Or... or something."

"Yeah."

The cowboys stared at each other for a moment, then Snitch leaned over and kissed the side of Skittery's mouth. Behind them, on the stage, LeAnn Rimes sang "I Need You," and flames dotted the black mass that was the audience. Forgotten and unseen, Snitch leaned in again, and Skittery in to meet him, and their lips moved against each other in rhythm to the song.

"I need you like water

Like breath, like rain

I need you like mercy

From heaven's gate..."

Brooks and Dunn closed the concert with "Rock My World," and for a moment, Snitch was afraid he would lose Skittery in the stampede to leave, and they would never exchange numbers or e-mails or anything. Then Christa reached over and grabbed Skittery's wrist. "We thought poor Snitchy was one of a kind!" She told him. "Now that we know he's not, we gotta keep you so the queer cowboys can reproduce!"

The group of three expanded to a group of four, and when they got into Jack's truck (Skittery had walked from his hotel), Snitch found he didn't mind the cramped space in the back; it was more cozy now that he was pressed against Skittery's side.

They drove around Nashville, hopped from packed bar to packed bar, exchanging comments and opinions about the concert, as well as teasing Snitch and Skittery.

But the night had to end. Jack pulled up into Skittery's hotel and idled as the boys exchanged numbers and a good-bye kiss, promising to get together for a week or so before school resumed.

As Snitch climbed back into the truck, Jack grinned. "I'm psychic, aren't I?"

"Hm?" Snitch blinked, then started to laugh. "Jack, I don't know how you did it, but you are psychic. It frightens me, but I love you for it."

Jack tipped his hat at Snitch, grinning. Christa glanced between them, confused, then shrugged. "I probably don't want to know."

"Probably." Jack gave Snitch a final grin, then pulled out of the hotel turn-around. Snitch looked out the window, watched the flashing neon lights pass, and sighed contentedly, singing under his breath:

"If this is how love is supposed to feel

Baby, I know I've fallen head over heels."

.::AUTHOR'S NOTE::.

Wow. This sounded better in my head. Now it just sucks.

But God, Cowboy!Snitch is HOT.

Okay. Wow. 100 Newsies fanfics. I have no life.

101 = Entry for Blink Week. 'Twill be cute, and 'twill be Blush #2 out of 100. Just 'cause I love B, plus I don't really see this scenario working as Blinktrack or Jink. It has to be Blush. ;

Anyway. Lunch, then work. Ta.