Race was at a student government conference when his hotel room phone rang. He wasn’t expecting Spot on the other line.
Sprace modern high school AU
Fluff, getting together
4.1k words
Race has always prided himself on being a leader, being the one that a lost underclassman could ask for directions to class, the one that teachers trust to watch their classroom as they leave the room. He went to all the school events, joined all the committees, and was an active member of student government. And a passionate one at that.
Student government made him feel like he had an impact on the school, like he could listen to his peers and bring new ideas to the table. He felt like he meant something, made a difference. So, he attended all the meetings, volunteered at all the fundraisers. He was at every school event, and everyone knew him because of it.
Race liked being known, it made him feel like he had a real high school experience. He wasn’t just sitting in class, taking notes, and going home.
So, when the annual statewide student government conference rolled around in March, he was the first to apply.
And, unsurprisingly, the first to be accepted.
And, two weeks later, the first on the bus.
Race was an outgoing person, always eager to meet new people and make new friends, yet his favorite part of these events always remained the same. Bonding with his own council. He loved dinners with his friends and underclassmen who he doesn’t know and his advisors. Making jokes and making memories. He loved the SnapChat group Romeo made, sending videos they sneak of their unsuspecting peers as they eat. He loves the teasing, the strengthening of relationships, the level of comfort and acceptance that isn't regularly found in school.
But the very best part wasn’t even a part of the conference itself, it was at night in the hotel. They all piled into Medda’s room, ignoring the teasing they get from other schools’ councils when they find out that they all hang out with their advisor. They play games, truth or dare or never have I ever and other lame party games, they tell embarrassing stories and eat way too many M&Ms. Race loves for it.
Nobody gets enough, or any, sleep and coffee is hard to come by in the morning, with the hundreds of overtired teenagers all with the same need, but nobody gets grumpy, nobody cares that they have to be up at 7. They’re all just happy to be with each other and, honestly, it’s magical.
Race was looking forward to their first night of council bonding all day. He ate dinner, watched the annual conference lip sync battle and then went straight upstairs. He stopped in his room to brush his teeth (he hates the feeling of unbrushed teeth) and went to secure a spot on the extra bed in Medda’s room. Soon, everyone began piling in, squeezing on the bed or sitting on the floor. Talking about who was auditioning for the upcoming play (Race was) and who was surprised that Jack and Davey started dating (Race wasn’t), he felt the familiar comfort and contentedness fill him up and he sunk back into the pillows, grateful to be experiencing this once more.
It was hardly past midnight when there was a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Medda asked as she stood from the desk chair, walking to the door.
“I dunno,” said Finch, “I think everyone’s here.”
The man at the door was tall and intimidating, stern eyes and a gray beard.
“I assume you didn’t hear about the curfew.” He looked unamused.
“Oh, I’m sorry. These are all my kids, we’re just doing some bonding and debriefing. I know where everyone is.” Medda explained.
“I’m glad you’ve done the bare minimum but I’m afraid that there is a 12:15 curfew that your students are breaking.” The man smiled but it was obviously fake, condescending.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s alright, everybody is accounted for. We do this every year.”
“Not this year you don’t. Everyone must be back in their assigned rooms immediately. I will be back in five minutes. I am not afraid to bring security.” The man turned on his heel and continued down the hall.
“Well,” Medda shut the door and entered the room, looking shocked, “you heard the man, I guess. Everyone off to bed.”
Everyone began gathering their things and filing out of the room. “I can’t believe that guy would talk to Medda like that, she’s an adult show some respect,” Race said.
“I know, it’s such a bummer. Hanging in here is always my favorite part,” agreed Spot.
Spot Conlon. Senior class president. Intimidating guy. Race has known him for as long as he can remember but he still finds it difficult to talk to him. Spot oozes a sense of too cool for you that Race couldn’t overcome. And it didn’t help that he was literally gorgeous. Race thinks that everyone probably has a crush on Spot but everyone’s too intimidated to say anything.
“Yeah, the whole point of this conference is to strengthen the council. That dude’s bullshit.” Race pulled his key card out of his lanyard and opened the door to his room. “Good night, I guess.” Race stepped into his room and flopped straight to his bed, Crutchie and Jack following.
Race and his roommates were talking and mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, nobody tired because they weren’t expecting to be in bed so soon when the room’s phone rang. Race, his bed being next to the phone on the nightstand, answered.
“Hello?” Race asked, confused.
“Hey, this Racer?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Yeah, Spot?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Why are you calling my room? Nobody uses these phones.” Race sat up against the headboard, answering Jack and Crutchie’s confused faces with a shrug.
“That dude can’t stop me from talking to people,” Spot said.
“So you’re using the shitty hotel phones as your way of sticking it to the man?” Race asked, smiling.
“Honestly, it was the first thing I thought of. What are you guys up to? You with Crutch and Cowboy?”
“Yeah, we were just hanging around. Weren’t expecting to be in bed this early.” Race got comfortable, falling into the conversation.
“Yeah, this totally blows. No offense to my roommates but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to spending the entire night with them.” Race heard a muffled “Dude we’re right here,” from the other line.
And so, they kept talking. About the day, the plans they had for tomorrow, the crazy English teacher they shared. It was hard to believe that they’d hardly talked before tonight.
Race hadn’t noticed the time passing until Jack and Crutchie were both ready to sleep.
“Racer, I don’t wanna put an end to your endless flirting but Crutch and I are gonna go to bed. Wanna do us a favor and shut the fuck up? Ain't this what texting was invented for?” Jack plugged his phone in and set it on the nightstand before taking his socks off and getting into bed. Race checked the clock on the dresser. 3:42.
“Shit, Spot. We should probably get some sleep.” Race said, giving an apologetic smile to Jack. Jack rolled his eyes in response.
“Yeah, I guess. Talk to ya soon Racer.”
Race set down the phone and got up to take his contacts out.
“You two talked for a while,” Crutchie called from his bed to Race in the bathroom.
“He’s just easy to talk to I guess. I don’t know, it’s weird. I’ve never really talked to him much before.” Race washed his hands and stared at his tired eyes in the mirror.
“Yeah and so are we,” Jack called. “You just ignored us for like four hours. I didn’t realize you were trying to get a man this weekend.”
“Shut up, I’m not,” Race walked out of the bathroom wearing his glasses. “He called here, I just had a conversation. Besides, he could have been calling for any of us.”
“Whatever you say but neither of us would have talked to Spot Conlon for more than a minute before hanging up. Right, Crutch?” Jack turned the light off as Race got into bed.
“Honestly I’m surprised you answered the phone,” answered Crutchie.
“So what? I’m personable and you’re jealous. Good night fellas.” Race set his glasses on the nightstand and resisted the urge to text Spot. His number sat unused in Race’s phone. It would be weird if Race texted him, he’s sure Spot only talked to Race to have something to do. No big deal.
The next morning was business as usual. Jack, Race, and Crutchie woke up and groaned about being tired for only a minute before getting ready for the day. The days at the conference were long and busy with little downtime outside of meals so they packed their bags with snacks and their notebooks and phone chargers before meeting up with some of the others to go to breakfast. The three boys along with Davey, Katherine and Finch all met in the hallway and we’re about to leave when another door opened and out stepped Spot.
“Hey, guys. You heading to breakfast?” Spot asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Yeah, you wanna join us?” Asked Davey.
“Thanks. I didn’t get a ton of sleep and my roommates were out early.” The group started walking toward the elevators.
“I wonder why.” Jack elbowed Race in the side as soon as Spot was out of earshot.
Race wasn’t sure how to act. It’s not like he and Spot are best friends. They’ve hardly spent any time together. Sure, now Race knows that Spot wants to be a lawyer and he loves meatball subs and his guilty pleasure is The Bachelorette but still, he hardly actually knows him.
Spot, Katherine, and Finch walked ahead, having some conversation the others couldn’t hear. “What’s going on with Spot and Race?” Davey asked.
“Nothing,” Race insisted but at the same time Crutchie replied, “They spent all night flirting on the hotel phone.”
“Really? Race and Spot Conlon? Not exactly a pair I would put together.”
“Dave, I’m literally standing right here.” Race rolled his eyes.
“Sorry, buddy. Maybe next time if you wanna flirt discreetly do it over text.”
“That’s what I said!” Jack said excitedly, bouncing as he walked.
Race took his phone from his pocket and checked his notifications, ignoring the conversation between the others.
The days at the conference are long and busy. After breakfast they broke into leadership workshops with students from other schools and Race didn’t see his friends for any longer than a passing by in the hallway. He didn’t mind, though. He loves reconnecting with old friends who he hasn’t seen in months or even since the last conference the year before. He plays games and light-hearted get-to-know-you’s while having serious discussions about inclusion and fundraising and school politics. It’s all of Race’s favorite things wrapped into one.
He didn’t think about Spot or Jack or Crutchie, he just had fun, took notes and made friends. After the workshops, they met in the main hall for a keynote speaker. There’s no losing with these. Either they’re very motivational and moving or they're terrible and the council can make jokes about them in the group chat. Race ignored the sadness he felt when Spot sat at a different table. They’re not even really friends, why should he care that he didn’t sit with Race and his friends? He shook off his emotions and took a SnapChat video of Jack under Davey’s arm to caption with a disgusted emoji. There’s no reason he should be bothered by Spot so he’ll just carry on.
That night was the fancy night. There was a banquet where everyone had to dress up and they gave out awards and recognized the best advisors and people gave speeches. But most importantly, it’s boring. The speeches were long and Race never knew who any of the people are anyway. The only benefits are the good food and being able to mess around with his friends with the added thrill of needing to be quiet. Everything’s funnier when you’re not supposed to laugh.
Because the banquet was formal, there was extra time for everyone to get ready than there would usually be for an evening program. Race isn’t finicky about his look. He doesn’t usually try to manage his curls more than wetting and brushing them and that’s the extent of his cosmetic routine. Jack, on the other hand, is surprisingly precise about getting his hair just right and looking his best. Maybe it’s an artist thing, like his hair is a canvas and his too-strong smelling pomade is the paint. Race is sure it also doesn’t help his time management that Davey is sitting on the counter in the bathroom while Jack gets ready in the mirror, but that’s none of his business.
So, Race was lying in bed, already in his dress shirt and bowtie waiting for the rest of his peers to be ready to leave. Eventually, as he waited, people joined him and his room became the hangout for the boys who were already ready to go.
There were probably about eight guys in the room already when Spot walked in. He was wearing a dark navy shirt with a grey tie and he looked incredible. Race fell from second place to seventh on the game of Mario Kart they were playing on Elmer’s Switch when Spot walked in.
“Hey, fellas. I heard some fun in here so I thought I’d stop by.” Spot took a seat on Race’s bed and began watching the game.
“Yeah, man, no problem. We got time to kill and snacks and Mario Kart, I dunno why you’d be anywhere else.” Jack said without taking his eyes off the screen. He was in tenth place but still determined to win. From his spot on the bed, Jack elbowed Race, looking over at him with a small grin. Race glared back.
Spot took a seat on the office chair in the room. “Who’s who?” Spot said, leaning over to see the screen.
“I’m top right,” said Race.
“Damn, Higgins. Seventh place? You gotta step up.” Spot began spinning in the chair.
“Yeah, I was almost in the lead but I got distracted.” Race concentrated on the screen.
“Oh yeah? By what?” Spot stopped the chair’s movement to look at Race.
Race froze. “Uh, nothing. Never mind.”
“Real smooth, Racer.” Jack grinned.
“Shut up, Jack. I don’t wanna hear it.”
Race looked up from the screen to steal a glance at Spot. Race swears he could see Spot look away before they could make eye contact; as if Spot was looking at Race and didn’t want to get caught. Race grinned and focused his attention back to the game, shooting into third place.
Race ended in third and gave up his spot for the next game, allowing someone else to play. He moved onto Jack’s bed, closer to the desk Spot was sitting in.
“You’re not gonna play?” Race asked Spot.
“Nah, you guys seem to be having fun.” Spot shook his head.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with us.”
“I don’t wanna intrude.”
“It’s not intruding.” Race said, “we’re all here for the same reason. We’re all hanging out.”
“Thanks, Race. Maybe later.” Spot took his phone out of his pocket and looked away from Race. It might be his imagination but Race thinks he can see Spot smile. It feels good to know that he is the one who caused it.
“Is anyone naked in here?” A voice came from outside the door.
“Yeah, Kat. We all are, come on in.” Jack called back.
The door opened. “Shut up, I wanted to make sure it was safe to enter. You guys ready?”
Katherine looked beautiful with her makeup done and her dress complimenting her body.
“We good fellas?” asked Jack. The guys began gathering their things and heading toward the door.
“You look beautiful, Katherine.” Race said, “That dress is bangin’”
“Aw, thanks, Racetrack. You’re not too bad yourself.”
Everyone met in the hallway and Medda led them down to the banquet hall. They took some group pictures and Race became a designated photographer for some of the girls having photoshoots for Instagram before he got dragged into some photos himself.
He loved this environment, where everyone was friends even if they don’t talk much at school. Maybe that’s why Spot’s been talking to him. Not because he wants to talk to Race, in particular, he just has been in the mood to be social, to meet people, to bond. That was probably it. There was no reason for Spot to call Race’s room, he probably didn’t even know who was in each room. And he could have wanted to talk to Jack or Crutchie. There was nothing there.
Race was determined to not let this realization ruin his mood. The dinner on banquet night is always the best and the way the council sneaks videos of each other failing to stay awake during the speeches is one of his favorite parts of the night. He still has that and he has his friends with him and that’s all he needs.
In the banquet hall Race sat next to Davey and Katherine, which means Jack, Crutchie, and Sarah were coming in tow. The rest of the council filled into the tables nearby, and the chatter and excitement for dinner and the dance later that night filled the room.
Race’s mood didn’t fall for the rest of the night. The dinner ended and people were clearing the hall to prepare for the dance. They were serving ice cream in the hotel lobby to keep the students busy while they put the tables away. The excitement of the dance that night echoed through the lobby as people lined up to get back into the hall.
The dance was crowded and hot and sweaty and shouldn’t be enjoyable but Race was in his element. His throat hurt from screaming the lyrics to random pop songs as well as student government favorites but he wouldn’t have it any other way. A slow song came on and Race left the dance floor. He could see his coupled friends move toward each other and some of his other friends dance together as a half-joke half-platonic loving gesture. Race headed to the refreshments to get some water.
He was filling his cup when someone came up behind him.
“Hey, Racer.”
Race turned around to see Spot Conlon behind him holding an empty cup.
“Spot, hey. Slow songs not your thing?” Race took a sip.
“Not when I have nobody to dance with.” Spot filled his own cup.
“Yeah, I feel that.”
“Is there something weird between us?” Spot asked suddenly. “We talked so much last night but today it’s like we don’t even know each other.”
“Oh, thank God.” Race let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. The lights changed and Race’s favorite song started playing. “I gotta go, but let’s just say if you called again tonight, I’d answer.” Race threw away his cup and ran toward the dancefloor. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.
The dance ended and Race and his friends were walking back to their rooms. When they turned the corner down the hall they saw the same man from the night before waiting by their rooms.
“There someone you’re looking for?” Asked Jack.
“No, I’m just here to make sure this council stays in their assigned rooms tonight, it seems you can’t be trusted.” The man stood with his arms crossed, looking down the hallway.
“Alright then, good night I guess.” Jack took his keycard out and opened their room and Race and Crutchie followed him in.
“That seems unnecessary,” said Crutchie.
“Yeah, totally,” Race said but he was too focused on the phone. He hadn’t talked to Spot since he saw him at the dance.
Race took a shower, hoping the whole time that the phone wouldn’t ring while he was bathing. Because it seemed that this year there would be no council bonding this year Race brushed his teeth and took his contacts out before changing into pajamas. He was sitting on his bed texting his mom when the phone rang.
“Hey.” Race tried to not sound too excited.
“What’s up, Racer?”
“Not much, apparently. I can’t believe that guy won’t let us hang out in Medda’s room”
“Don’t worry. I figured out a way. Come through the sliding door.”
Race looked across the room to the door leading to a courtyard. The hotel was shaped like a rectangle with a garden in the center. Race can’t believe he hadn’t thought of this. If the people on this side of the hall go through the courtyard they could get into each other’s rooms.
“Spot, you’re a genius.” Race hung up the phone and headed toward the door, ignoring Crutchie asking where he’s going.
When Race got outside he saw Spot waiting with a smug grin on his face.
“Nice glasses, Racetrack.”
Spot was still wearing his formalwear from the dance and Spot was suddenly very aware of his flannel pajama pants and glasses.
“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting to see anyone but Jack and Crutch tonight.”
Spot’s grin grew. “So if you knew you were gonna see me you would’ve gotten all dolled up?”
Race could feel his cheeks grow red. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”
“Race?” Spot asked quietly.
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna kiss me as badly as I wanna kiss you?”
“Yeah,” Race repeated with a smile.
“Get over here, then.”
Race stepped forward, closing the space between them. Spot’s arms wrapped around Race’s waist and he pulled him closer. Race didn’t know how badly he wanted this until it started happening but now he can’t imagine a world without Spot. Two days ago Race and Spot hardly spoke. They had different friends, different classes, different lives and Race had no clue what he was missing out on.
They separated when they heard the door to Race’s room open.
“Racetrack Higgins, you mean to tell me that you found a way to hang out with other rooms and you didn’t tell us so that you could stand out in the cold and make out with Spot?” Jack looked offended as he walked outside, Crutchie following.
“It was Spot’s idea.” Race said, defensively.
“Hey, don’t bring me into this.” Spot whacked Race on the chest.
“It doesn’t matter.” Crutchie shut the door behind him. “We’re gonna be in Finch and Dave’s room. We’ll text when we’re heading back.” Crutchie’s smile implied that he knew exactly what they were doing as they left the room empty.
It was well past midnight when Jack and Crutchie were crossing back through the courtyard back to their room. Race hadn’t answered their texts and they feared they were going to see more than they ever wanted to see when they opened the door.
Crutchie walked inside and was surprised to see Spot and Race cuddled under the blankets on Race’s bed, Race’s glasses smashed against his face.
“Aw, they’re sweet.” Crutchie looked to Jack, smiling. Jack still had a hand over his eyes. “Jack, you’re ridiculous you can open your eyes.”
“You can never be too safe, Crutch. I didn’t need any new mental scars tonight.”
They decided to let the boys sleep, nobody got enough sleep at these conferences anyway. They were leaving the next morning and it’s always difficult to get up and pack when they haven’t slept all weekend. So, they were quiet as they got themselves ready for bed before they shut the light off and went to sleep.
The next morning Spot woke up confused as to where he was. It wasn’t until he saw Race standing across the room that his confusion melted away into a smile.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” Race said, his words muffled into his toothbrush. “You should probably head back to your room to pack and get ready for breakfast.”
Spot pried himself from the bed, groaning at the discomfort as he stood. “I can’t believe you guys let me sleep in my dress clothes.”
“Sorry, man, but I think there would have been bloodshed if we woke you up,” Crutchie responded as he packed his suitcase.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Spot walked to Race and pressed a kiss to his temple before leaving the room. Race was giddy as he went back into the bathroom to spit his toothpaste.
“So, things seem pretty good with you guys, what happened last night?” Jack asked.
basically just a bunch of lil modern Sprace headcanons okay lets go:
It was when he was six that Spot met the new kid in Kindergarten.
His name, he later learned, was Anthony but he loved horses so much Spot decided to call him Race.
It was when he was 8 that Race started to have feelings for his best friend.
Race grew up around a couple of gay people in his family, and his parents were pretty accepting, but it wasn’t something he wanted broadcasted out to the world just yet. Spot on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky.
It was when he was 9 that Spot started to have feelings for his best friend.
He had to hide it of course, because what else could he do about it? This was also around the time his anger started to become a problem.
It was when he was 11 that Spot got into his very first fight.
Some kid a few years older than him decided to joke about how close Spot and Race were. Of course Spot couldn’t let that stand, so he had to teach the kid a lesson.
It was when they were 12 that Spot and Race fought together.
Race, after learning about what had happened with Spot and the older boy, vowed to always be by his best friend’s side whenever a fight broke out.
It was when they were 14 that Spot and Race had their first real fight.
It was different than the other ones they’d had. No fists were thrown, there was no names being shouted, it was painfully personal. It wasn’t how they would normally fight, and Race knew that he just couldn’t figure out why- until Spot finally confessed his feelings while his mind was clouded with rage.
It was when they were 14 that Spot and Race had their very first kiss.
After Spot accidentally admitted his feelings for Race, his best friend immediately closed the distance between the two of them and kissed him. For that one moment, Spot felt free of anger, he felt happier than he had in a long time. Race held on tight to Spot as if he was reminding himself that this was actually happening.
It was when he was 15 that Spot’s parents found out.
His mom stopped caring about what happened to her son a long time ago, but man was his dad angry. Spot had been so, so careful, until he forgot to delete the text conversation he’d had with his boyfriend the night before. It was innocent, but or course they didn’t talk like friends would. Spot had been yelled at, hit, and finally- kicked out. He’d had half an hour to pack up his stuff and leave. Luckily, his friend Jack had an amazing foster mom he could stay with.
It was when they were 16 that Spot and Race went on their first real date.
Of course, they’d gone out to eat at little fast food places but they were never allowed to be open about their relationship. About a year after Spot moved in with Medda and Jack, they were able to be out at school and in public.
It was when they were 17 that Spot and Race went to senior prom together.
Spot picked up Race at his house and was blown away when he saw his boyfriend come down the stairs. He wore a deep blue tux with a bowtie and he looked fantastic. Race looked at Spot in his black tux and wondered how he’d gotten so lucky in the first place.
It was when they were 18 that Spot and Race had to say goodbye for a little while.
They’d both gotten into the colleges they’d wanted to. Race was on his way to becoming a master chef and Spot was headed on the path to becoming the world’s best lawyer. It was a cliché departure, holding each other like they needed them to survive. Spot and Race promised to make the long distance thing work.
It was when they were 20 that Spot and Race said “I love you”.
Spot actually said it first, which was really difficult for him but man was it worth it. Race almost started crying because he didn’t think he’d ever hear those words from Spot and quickly said it back.
This was also the first time Spot and Race had sex because they were finally in a space where they could be intimate with each other. Spot was visiting Race in between semesters and it was another way to show how much he loved him.
It was when they were 23 that Spot and Race moved in together.
After graduating college, the two were able to get jobs in their respective fields and saved up enough money to buy a tiny apartment in New York.
It was when they were 27 that Spot and Race got engaged.
Race saved up his money to buy Spot the shiny silver ring he proposed with. They were walking through the part when Race got down on one knee and told Spot exactly why he was doing this today. He told Spot that he couldn’t wait any longer before promising to be his forever, in all it’s cheesy glory.
It was when they were 28 that Spot and Race finally got married.
Race had held Spots’ hands in his own and managed to tell Spot all the reasons he’d made his life better.
As Spot stood in front of all of the people he loved, staring at the man who would be his husband, and he thought about to the 6-year-old boy who met his best friend for the first time.
AU in which Spot and Race pretend to be in a relationship to avoid getting hit on at bars.
Word Count: 2.6K
Spot didn’t know any of the songs that the club’s speakers poured out but it’s not really necessary to know what you’re dancing to have a good time. He knew that the alcohol flowing through his veins gave his hips the freedom to move where the beat takes them and he could momentarily forget about the stress of exams and the empty Word document that’s supposed to be his pre-law essay.
And suddenly that’s all he can think about. He needs another drink. Maneuvering across the dancefloor is difficult but not impossible, as long as you’re okay with a few stepped on toes. Spot took his first breath of somewhat fresh air in a while when he finally broke through the swarm of bodies separating his lungs and something decent to breathe, he wondered what it was like to be Davey or Finch, tall enough to have his head above the crowd.
Spot head toward the bar stools he and Race had sat at during the start of the night, hoping to find an empty seat, and for a second there was one. Race was already there with an open spot to his right until some guy took the seat. The guy turned his seat toward Race and flashed a grin that couldn’t be interpreted as anything but flirtatious. Spot distanced himself, maybe Race could use the hookup. He knew better than to cockblock his best friend. He could take a different seat when one opened. He figured Race’s sex drive was superior to his want of more beer.
Was it creepy to watch Race talk to his guy? Maybe a little strange how he was so interested in their conversation? Probably. But Spot continued to wait. He stood with his shoulder resting on the wall until he saw someone stand up and leave the bar. The girl who had been sitting on the other side of Race. He didn’t want to interrupt but he really wanted that beer. Whatever he’ll try not to eavesdrop.
Spot hurried to the seat before someone else could claim it and waited for the bartender to catch his eye.
“Actually, yeah I do,” he could hear Race say.
“I don’t see him here.” the mystery guy responded.
“Just a moment, please.” Race punctuated his sentence by turning in his chair to face Spot. Spot barely had time to let the confused look overtake his face when Race’s lips suddenly came crashing into his. Race’s hand rose to rest on his cheek while Spot remained frozen under his best friend’s touch. What is going on? Why is this happening? What has gotten into Race?
They soon disconnected, Race reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill and slammed it onto the bar. He then grabbed Spot’s wrist and dragged him away from the bar. When he came to the door he dropped his hold on Spot and rushed out of the building, red in the face and walking quickly. Spot stood still for a moment as his brain caught up and he followed Race outside.
Spot could see Race reaching to wipe tears from his cheeks as he jogged to catch up. “Hey, Racetrack, wait up,” he called. Race kept walking. It was Spot’s turn to grab Race’s wrist now, turning Race to face toward him.
“Do you hate me now?” Race asked through shaky breath.
“What? Of course not. I’m confused as all hell but I don’t hate you, Tony, come on.” Spot was mildly hurt that Race thought that one confusing and probably drunken kiss could immediately ruin their friendship.
Spot didn’t expect the massive hug Race pulled him into, but it wasn’t unwelcome. “He was so fucking creepy, Spot. I needed a way to get out. I told him I have a boyfriend and he didn’t believe me and you were right there and I’m sorry.” Race’s voice sounded small and Spot tightened his grip on the hug.
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Race pulled away and wiped his tears once more. “I’m gonna head back to the apartment. I’m done for the night.”
“Okay,” Spot said. “Let’s go.”
The confusion on Race’s face was evident. “It’s only like eleven. You can stay.”
“I don’t want to. Not if it means you’re alone.” Spot and Race began the walk home, a comfortable silence falling between them. Words weren’t needed against the sounds of the city.
The next weekend rolled around, Spot’s essay long forgotten, and a new trip to the club fast approaching. Spot was standing at the bathroom mirror gelling his hair as he called to Race.
“Hey, Racer?”
“Yeah?” Race walked to the bathroom doorway, sliding on his jacket. “What’s up?”
“I was thinking,” Spot started and there was no turning back now. This could be a big mistake. “Remember last week? At Warren’s?”
Race groaned. “I thought we weren’t gonna talk about it anymore. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or whatever. It was the only thing I thought to do.”
“No, that’s not it.” Spot frowned at his reflection in the mirror, his hair never sitting the way he wanted. “I actually think it was really smart. I thought maybe if you had to do it again that’d be okay?” His own thoughts sounded like a question as they finally left his mouth.
“Oh, that’s not at all what I thought you’d say. So maybe like, we pretend to be dating to get away from any hypothetical creeps?” Race asked.
“Yeah, maybe. I thought it might be useful sometimes. If anything like last time happens again we know what to do.” Spot turned away from the mirror and toward Race. He questioned to his hair with his eyebrows furrowed and Race immediately started to fix it for Spot. Spot could never get it just right like Race could.
“I guess that makes sense. Won’t it be kinda weird though? You put too much of that gel shit in here. It goops it all up.” Race stepper back to look at Spot. “I feel like it might be awkward.”
“Yeah, I guess it could be. I thought maybe it could help. Nevermind though, you’re probably right.” Spot looked back into the mirror and started to reach for his hair before Race swatted his hand away.
“Don’t mess it up. It looks perfect as is.” Race started to walk away into the living room as he continued speaking. “I think it could definitely be useful, as long as we’re on the same page. So like, if we’re uncomfortable with some guy flirting or whatever we can find each other and pretend to be dating. What about boundaries.”
“I dunno,” answered Spot. “I guess it depends on the situation. Like I’ll try not to do anything too intimate or whatever but you gotta what you gotta do.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. It’s not like it’ll happen a lot.”
It happened a lot.
It seemed that as soon as they knew what to do if a creepy guy started talking to them, they realized how many creepy guys talk to them. At first, it was uncomfortable for them to act as if they’re in a relationship but it soon became natural. Race would make eye contact with Spot across the bar and Spot would swoop in with a kiss on the cheek and a “Hey, babe. Who’s this?” causing whoever was once talking to Race to either apologize and leave or realize he’s outnumbered before backing off.
Race was a big fan of physical contact and frequently came up behind Spot, pressing his chest against Spot’s back, arms slung around his neck and his chin resting on either Spot’s shoulder or head, depending on where he could reach. He would casually touch him for a couple minutes to make sure whoever they sent away was gone and Spot would never admit the sort of loss he felt when Race’s hands were no longer against his skin.
It must be because Spot’s been single for so long.
Their sort of fake relationship became casual. Short kisses before going to the bathroom, hands in back pockets Lara Jean style, pet names so sweet they’d deny ever saying them. And it was harmless, helpful even. Pleasant.
Usually, it was Race who found himself being saved by Spot. Spot had that kind of “Don’t fuck with me” attitude while Race was much more personable. Which made it even more of a surprise that Spot was this scared.
The whole squad had gone out to celebrate Finch’s birthday and Spot was getting a second round of drinks when he approached. He was tall, looked strong. His name was probably Brad or something. Spot wasn’t even quite sure what he was saying, but he knew that maybe-Brad was very close to him, and he was whispering less than appropriate things in his ear. Spot was frozen in shock and fear, not knowing whether to cry or punch this guy.
Before he had to decide, a hand covered his balled fist and he was being dragged away. Away from the bar, away from maybe-Brad, away from the bottles he was meant to be taking back to his friends. It wasn’t until he was stopped on the dancefloor that he realized that it was Race dragging him away, but in hindsight who else would it be?
Race turned around against Spot in a sorry attempt at grinding in order to have a conversation.
“Was I reading that right?” He asked. “That guy was scary as fuck, right?”
“Yeah,” Spot muttered, his hands finding their way to Race’s waist, trying to appear natural. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so close to punching someone and still hesitating. I couldn’t tell what was going on inside your head.” Race moved closer to Spot, beginning to get more comfortable and less worried. That is until he saw the guy that had been talking to Spot emerged toward the outside of the dancefloor, seemingly looking for somebody. “Don’t freak out,” he told Spot but gave no time for questions before turning around and crashing their lips together and immediately deepening the kiss. This was the kind of kiss that Race would judge people for sharing on the club dancefloor. A “get a room” kiss.
But Spot was his best friend and he could be in danger, so Spot’s chapped lips against his own and the taste of Spot’s disgusting mixed drink on his tongue was a small price to pay.
Spot had no clue what was going on. But he trusted Race and figured this must be part of a greater scheme. Race was smarter than people give him credit for, so, when they started moving toward the door, lips barely separating, Spot went along with it.
The cold outside air hit their faces as the door swung shut behind them.
“What was that?” Spot asked dumbly as their lips disconnected.
“Oh, yeah, Sorry, that guy was back. Looked like maybe he was looking for you. Sorry, let’s go home. “ Race began to blush and started down the sidewalk.
“Tony?”
Race stopped walking and turned back.
“Thank you.” Spot jogged to catch up to Race before continuing to walk to the apartment. “I mean it.”
“Don’t mention it.”
And they didn’t. Until the next afternoon.
With their friends, birthdays are not a one day deal. Everyone gets one night out of their choosing and one lunch at Jacobi’s. Today was Finch’s lunch.
Their usual table was already loud and lively when Race and Spot walked in. They were among the last to arrive so they began to separate in order to find seats when Jack spoke up.
“Hey, Dave. Maybe we should move so these guys can sit together.”
The rest of the table grew quiet as attention turned to this conversation.
“Um, okay?” Spot started. “What were you scheming, Kelly?”
“Nothing at all. I just thought you’d want to sit next to your Racetrack here.” The grin on Jack’s face seemed to almost spread across the entirety of his cheeks.
“Jack, what the fuck are you talking about? It’s not like we’re only friends with each other.” Race added.
“So you’re telling me,” said Crutchie from across the table, “that you’d be just as happy sitting next to Elmer than Spot.”
“Guys, what the hell? Don’t drag me into this.” chimed Elmer.
“Yeah,” said Race. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.
“Sure,” Jack scoffed. “As if you’d make out with Elmer the way you were making out with Spot night.”
“Is that what this is about?” Spot asked, both worried and relieved.
“Okay.” Race sighed. “First of all, I totally would make out with Elmer.”
“Hell yeah you would.” Elmer sat a bit higher in his seat and sipped his drink.
“That wasn’t anything real, guys.” Spot started.
“Yeah, some creepy guy was coming onto Spot and that was just to get him away.”
“Seems a bit extreme for just some random guy in a bar.” said Finch.
Race sat in the seat nearest him. “Let’s just forget about it, guys. It didn’t mean anything. It’s not like a bunch of you guys haven’t kissed each other before. No big deal.”
“Sure, Racer.” said Jack. “I’m sure it was completely innocent. No strings attached.” He glanced at the way Race and Spot were sitting, legs pressed together and closer than they had to be. When Spot caught him looking he quickly moved away.
But that was just because they’re friends. Roommates. Nothing more.
Still, the guys were acting all smug as if they’d cracked some sort of code. The whole lunch was filled with not so subtle jokes and glances.
Later that night, Spot and Race decided to stay in when a group of their friends went to a movie. Race had to go to the library to study for an upcoming chemistry exam and Spot had had his fair share of the bullshit from the guys for one day.
As the night went on Race had stayed at the library. Spot, realizing he hadn’t eaten decided to order a pizza. He sent Race a text asking if he should order anything for him, expecting him to be coming home soon. When the reply came in that Race didn’t want any food Spot immediately became concerned. Race never said no to pizza. So, he ordered Race’s regular order anyway and waited for it to arrive.
After the delivery guy came Spot slid his coat on and began the walk to the library, pizza in hand.
The library was mostly empty so Race was easy to spot. He sat amongst a pile of books and papers, hair messy and eyes red. Spot sat next to him and gently moved the papers aside, placing the pizza box in their place.
“You need to take a break, T.” Spot said.
“I don’t have time. I need to keep reviewing.” Race’s voice sounded as tired as he looked.
“We both know you already know this. You probably knew this sophomore year of high school, nerd. Have something to eat.
“But I can’t… I need to.. Thank you, Spot.” Race sat a little straighter and opened the box. “You didn’t have to-” Race was cut off by Spot’s lips crashing into his own. While this was far from a new feeling it was a wildly new environment. Sweeter, more domestic. Calm. He could get used to this.
“Sorry, Race. I just thought that you-” Spot said as they seperated.
“It’s okay. Who were we pretending for this time?” Race asked with a grin.
