Fridays were Spots favourite, and not just because it was the day before the weekend, Friday was date night. Friday was the day that he got Races full undivided attention. Friday was the day that he longed for during a long week of work, thinking about Races gorgeous eyes looking at him doe-fully from the other end of the table, throwing out jokes that just might make him smile and getting to just hear him talk. That gentle yet loud voice that seemed to be able to talk its way out of all spots problems for him. No homework, no annoying co-workers, and no stress.
Yeah. Friday was going to be perfect. No problems, just the two of them.
Unfortunately for Spot, it wasn't Friday, it was Thursday.
"Race, could you pass me the remote?" Spot asked.
Race remained silent, chewing on the end of his pen, staring down at some sheets of paper, like he had been, for the last two hours.
"Race?" Spot asked again, this time waving a hand infront of his unfixed eyes.
"Huh?" Race blinked back into focus, starting a bit. Spot smiled.
"I said can you pass me the remote." Spot repeated softly.
"Oh yeah! .... sorry." Race quickly picked up the remote and handed it over, however, Spot didn't move to turn on the TV, instead, as if he had turned on a movie - his favourite movie - he began to analyse Races face and quick squirrel-like movements.
"Are you okay?" He asked gently, placing a hand on his leg.
"Yeah!" Answered Race slightly too quickly.
"Come on, talk to me." Spot lightly pulled Race back so that Races back was slumped on his chest and his head tiredly resting on his shoulder.
"I knew that college was hard but I didn't think it would be this hard." Race whined, looking up at Spot.
"I know...you'll get it, you always do." Spot reassured, wrapping his arms around him.
"And I feel so guilty." Race carried on.
"About what?" Spot gently kissed the side of his head.
"You."
"Me?"
"I'm always either at college, or doing homework and I feel like I don't make enough time for you." Race mumbled into Spots shoulder.
"No Race don't you worry about that, focus on school it's way more important...and although I'd love to have you all to myself every day of the week...I'll settle for Friday."
Race smiled and tilted his head upwards,"Yeah, Friday."
From where they were sat, they both heard the rings of Races phone disregarded on the sofa near them. Race scrambled over Spot to get it.
"Hello?"
"Oh shit really?"
"I'd sue personally."
"Mega mega fuming."
"Uh yeah I guess you can!"
"Italian, the one near my college."
"This Friday yeah."
As if a puppy being wound up by the word walk, Spot turned his head comedically slow and blinked in disbelief.
"See you then, bye."
Race turned back around and audibly laughed at Spots shocked face.
"What did you just do." Spots voice was weirdly deep.
"That was Davey, he said that his date reservations were cancelled and asked if they could join us." Race replied, almost laughing again.
"No."
"Too late." Race smiled
"I am not going on a date with fuck ass Jack." Spot said angrily.
"You wouldn't be on a date WITH Jack you'd be on a date with me, and Jack would just be there too." Race soothed.
"There's no way." Spot said blankly.
" Come on, a double date will be fun!...and I've already said yes." Race beamed.
Dramatically, Spot let out a load groan, covering his face with his hands and sliding further down the sofa until he lay face down on the floor.
"Get a grip mate." Race joked, walking right on top of Spots back to get to the kitchen.
Friday came faster than it ever had before for Spot, the one time he dreaded it.
"Oh hey guys." Race smiled as he approached the door of the restaurant at the same time Jack and Davey arrived.
"Hiya!" Davey said happily, clearly very exited.
"Is that new?" Spot indicated to Jack's coat, not even greeting him.
"Yeah and what of it?" Jack said defensively.
"Nothing...." Spot dragged out the last silobol as if it were a question, trying to find eye contact with Race to test the waters.
"You look like princess Diana." Race said flatly.
Spot laughed loudly, davey hid a smirk and Jack stood there looking as though he was trying to use his mind to make Race explode.
"How the hell do I look like princess Diana?" Jack snapped.
"I didn't mean anything by it....it just makes you look very....." Race trailed off, trying not to giggle at Jack's face.
"Feminine." Spot finished.
"Shut up!" Jack yelled.
"Not in a mean way! We just mean you look very snatched... very uhh..." Race smiled like the sun.
"Dainty." Spot finished again.
"That's it, I'll take both of you right now! See whose dainty then you little-" Jack growled, before Davey put a hand on his arm.
"Jackie you look fine, you don't look dainty and you don't look like a princess." Davey whispered to him, instantly feeling his arm- de-tense.
"Yeah...okay." Jack finally agreed, "let's go Inside I'm cold."
"Lead the way your highness." Davey smirked and felt Jack gasp and smack him whilst Spot and Race burst into giggles.
Twenty minutes later, they were still waiting in the dimly lit restaurant buzzing with happy couples and families.
"Can I help you?" One of the waitors finally asked.
"Hello, were here for a reservation for four under the name Higgins." Race gladly replied.
"Let me just check....oh." the waitor made an awkward face. They all froze in dread.
"Looks like we had you double booked..."
"Looks like you're about to be double right hooked-" Race said Instantly before Spot pulled him away and stood infront of him.
"Is there anything you can do?" Spot asked wairely.
"I'm afraid not sir."
They all groaned and shuffled out of the door.
"So what now?" Jack huffed, crossing his arms.
"Uhhh...suicide pact?" Race offered with a straight face.
"Or...we could go get maccies?" Davey suggested sounding a little bit scared. They all agreed and began walking.
The walk was brisk but beautiful, Davey and Jack walked infront, both couples holding hands and gently talking, looking up at the stars freckled in the navy sky. Jack snd Spot walked by the road because it was the "gentlemanly thing to do" until Spot kept purposefully stepping on the back of Jack's shoes and had to swap with Race. Seeing Races tired yet happy face painted with moonlight almost made up for the way the night was turning out, almost.
"Were hereeee." Davey said cheerfully and began to drag Jack by his hand as if a dog on a leash. Soon enough they were Stood around the ordering screen.
"Four big macs?" Spot announced, "no wonder you're so horizontally challenged.
"At least I'm not vertically challenged." Jack smirked back.
" You're both gonna be sexually challenged if you don't shut up." Davey interjected, both he and Race cackled at their shocked faces.
"Now out of my way I want my maccies." Davey shoved Jack to the side, he stumbled slightly. Spot and Race made eye contact and held back laughter. A few minutes later, they were all sat around a table.
" Davey can I have a fry please?" Jack asked nicely.
"No." Davey responded.
"Why not?" Jack smiled slightly, for some reason he found this adorable.
"Mine." Davey said, repressing a smile of his own.
"I'm starting to think that you love those fries more than me." Jack joked and then his face dropped when instead of disagreeing, Davey went silent and side-eyes him. He then burst into laughter and began to subconsciously hit Jack.
"First you starve me now you abuse me." Jack sighed, playfulness laced in his voice.
"Sorry you know I hit things when I laugh..." davey giggled and wiped his eyes after the intense laughter, of course Jack knew. "And I'm joking Jackie, you know I love you more."
"There's my sweet boy." Jack said softly before pecking Davey on the forehead and then his lips, again and again and again. Lips meeting teeth as he smiled uncontrollably at the boy infront of him, wanting to never stop touching him.
"Right get a room you two." Spot Snarled.
"I cant help it if he loves my taste." Jack sneered.
"Yeah you taste like fries!" Davey chirped
"You and these damn fries why don't you snog the fries if you-." Jack was cut off by soft lips meeting his again, more deep and intimate this time, a tongue flicking along his inner-bottom lip.
Spot went to say something when he suddenly heard:
"Spot do you think I could fit this whole burger in my mouth?"
"Race no!"
For the next ten minutes, Jack and Davey tangled themselves up in eachother as Jack greedily stocked up on kisses like you would food for a zombie apocalypse. Whilst, Race choaked and Spot patted his back, almost in tears.
Soon enough, they were back at Spot and Races apartment, Davey had his head rested on Jack's lap, who was staring down at Davey whilst he talked, eyes full to the brim with with mental intimacy and warmth, there had been a time it had over filled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, he hoped Davey didn't remember than as he ran a hand through his hair. They had just watched a movie and were winding down for the night, wrappers and an empty bottle of wine lay around then.
On the other side of the sofa, Spot was sitting contently on the sofa, with Races legs bend over his and his side rested against Spots chest.
"I'm sorry tonight wasn't quite like how you pictured." Race whispered.
"It's fine." Spot whispered back, placing a kiss into his hair.
"No its not...you were so exited for this and it all got ruined." Race sighed
"Nothing was ruined, the only thing that could have ruined my night is you not being there baby." He laced their fingers together. Race went pink.
"Even though it was a double date?" Race asked.
"Even with fuck ass Jack here, it was great." Spot reassured.
"You're lying to make me feel better, I ruined it by being boring and school-centred ." Race said sadly.
"Baby...you shoved a whole burger down your throat and told a waitor you were gonna right-hook him, you are the last thing from boring." Spot chucked, finally getting Race to look up at him.
"so same time next Friday?" Race grinned, "maybe next time just us."
"I've never loved you more than I do right now."
With that, their lips didn't part for the rest of the night.
“Oh look, another glorious morning. Makes me sick!” for Sprace? 😇
Truth be told, I didn’t really know where I was going with this prompt then this happened. Sometimes the characters have a mind of their own and it turns really cute and fluffy. This is pure fluff for Sprace!
Getting out of bed as quiet as he could, Stop stood at the side of the bed stretching, admiring the view of his husband snoring softly in the bed. Shaking his head at Race, Spot walked to the bathroom, grabbing a few things along the way before shutting the door and taking a shower.
Opening the bathroom door, he chuckled watching the steam billow out, using his towel to wipe off the mirror before starting his morning routine. He heard the familiar jingle of a collar before watching, in the mirror, their Miniature Goldendoodle, Lucky, wander into the room. She sat at the foot of the bed, looking between the bed and where Spot stood before lumbering over to him.
“Morning, Luck.” He crouched down, giving her some pats and rubs before standing up and continuing with his routine. “Stay off the bed, girl. Let dad sleep some more.”
He finished up, clicking his fingers softly before heading out the door and walking downstairs. He heard Lucky lumbering behind him as he made his way to the kitchen. Flipping on the coffee pot, he turned on the TV, looking for anything but the news to watch. He settled on the sports highlights from the night before as Lucky jumped up on the couch beside him.
He always loved mornings. Usually, it was a quiet time for him to think, plan out the day, or just catch up on some reading. He usually finishes a cup of coffee before Race gets out of bed. Fixing his cup of coffee, he settled down on the couch, the warmth of Lucky pressed against his side keeping him warm.
As he drained his cup, he could hear the creek of the floor upstairs signaling Race was up. Pushing himself off the couch, he walked to the kitchen, fixing himself a second cup and Race his first. As he heard the footfalls on the steps, he picked up the mugs heading back to the living room. He had to bite back a chuckle as he got his first glance at Race, who’s hair was sticking up in all directions from his well rested night.
“Morning.” Spot gave him his mug, settling back on the couch next to Lucky. “How did you sleep?”
Grunting, Race shrugged, breathing in the delicious smell of his coffee before taking a sip. This was his typical response and it never failed to make Spot grin at his husband.
After a couple more sips of his coffee, Race looked a little more coherent. “Oh look, another glorious morning. Makes me sick!”
“Well then, it’s going to be a fantastic day.” Spot sipped his coffee, looking at his grump of a husband.
Race gave him a look, moving from the oversized chair to the couch next to Spot, cuddling into him. “Why?”
“Why what, snookums?” Spot threw an arm around him, letting him cuddle into his chest.
Race buried his head, seeking the warmth of his husband’s chest. “Why are you so awake? Why must you love mornings?”
“This isn’t anything new, Racer.” He ran his hand through Race’s hair. “We’ve been together for 8 years and married for 4 and you’re just now questioning that?”
Yawning, Race sighed. “I’ve known it but I just don’t get it. Mornings are horrible.”
“I know but there’s something special about a morning, it’s quiet and peaceful. It’s shameful wasting a day away by sleeping.” Spot shrugged, leaning down to kiss Race, who sighed in contentment. “Besides, morning cuddles are a pretty amazing thing and you’re an amazing cuddler.”
Raising an eyebrow, Race gave him a look. “You’re buttering me up for something.”
“No, not buttering you up; just stating a fact. You are an amazing cuddler, the best I’ve ever known.” Spot grinned.
Race huffed. “I better be the only one you’re cuddling, mister.”
“There’s a little girl that I love cuddling, but she’s 4.” Spot loved egging Race on when he first woke up due to the slow reaction time.
“Maisie doesn’t count. She’s a great cuddler.” Race agreed, finishing his coffee before putting the empty mug on the side table. “What are the plans for today?”
Looking at his phone, Spot sighed. “We’re supposed to go apple picking with Finch and Albert.”
“Yay.” Race sat up, giving Spot a look. “Snookums?”
Raising an eyebrow at him, Spot was concerned by the sugarly sweet tone Race’s voice had suddenly taken on. “Yes, pooks?”
“Will you be the absolute dearest and make an apple pie for dessert tonight?” Race gave him a cheesy grin that he knew Spot wouldn’t be able to resist.
Laughing, Spot pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him before kissing him. “Yes, pooks I can make one. But it’ll cost you.”
“Cost me how?” Race’s voice was leery of his husband’s request.
Spot kissed, grinning. “Clean up the kitchen after I’m done making the pie?”
“You’re not going to mess it up any worse than you normal do, will you?” Race sighed.
Pausing, Spot looked at Race. “Depends on how cinnamony you want the pie. Do you want a lot or a little in it?”
“I want a repeat of last year’s Thanksgiving Apple Pie. So whatever you did to make that fantastic pie, I want you to recreate it.” Race pouted, hoping that would sway Spot to say yes. “And yes, I’ll clean up the kitchen.”
Thinking back on his pie last year, Spot just remembered throwing in a handful of cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar, not really measuring it out. “I will try to recreate the pie from Thanksgiving last year. I didn’t write down the exact measured ingredients.”
“Ok, snookums.” Race kissed him, snuggling into his embrace. “Just do your best. What time are we going apple picking?”
Spot sighed, feeling Race’s breath on his neck. “I think we’re meeting at 11. We’ve got some time if you want to cuddle.”
“Aren’t we already doing that?” He asked as Spot snorted, running his hand through Race’s hair.
“Just making sure we’re on the same page.” Spot chuckled. “I love you Racetrack.”
“Love you too, Spottie.” His voice sounded sleepy as Spot continued to rake his fingers through his curls.
Before long, Spot heard the soft snores of Race as he laid on him like a koala in a tree. But honestly, Spot wouldn’t have moved for the world. He was in heaven - a snoring puppy on one side and a snoring husband on him. The perfect Saturday morning.
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.
Aaaand more Newsies. Enjoy another fluffy Sprace fic.
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Everything is fine. The caterers are half an hour late, the flourist sent the wrong flowers, and Albert misplaced the rings somewhere in his pigsty of an apartment, but that's okay. Race isn't worried. He's totally calm. It's. Fine.
“Great! Thanks,” Jojo hangs up the phone and turns to Race. “Crisis averted. The florists send their sincerest apologies and will be sending someone by to exchange all the flowers and they will also be returning half the cost of the original order to make up for their mistake.”
Race lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, okay. That's good. That's great. Awesome. Where are we with the caterer?”
Jojo's new look of happiness dissipated instantly. “I'll go check with Elmer and, while I'm at it, I'll call Albert and light a fire under his ass. Cool?”
Race nods, “You're the best best man ever.”
Jojo smiles and rushes out of the room. Race takes another deep breath and collapses into the nearest metal folding chair which he instantly regrets.
It's his wedding day for fuck's sake! Why was everything such a mess? Why couldn't this one day be perfect? Why couldn't the caterers be on time? Why did the florist mess up the order? Why did Albert have to lose the rings? Why-
Oh and now he's crying. Race stands up and wipes his eyes. He catches a glimpse of his reflection. He looks sick and exhausted. He runs a hand through his curls in frustration.
Suddenly the door opens and he turns to see Spot, fully dressed in his tuxedo and looking more gorgeous than ever. It then occurs to Race that he hasn't even begun to get ready. He's standing in the middle of the room in his Nike joggers with no shirt on.
Spot smiles sympathetically. “You okay?”
Race sighs. “No. This is… this is… I am-”
Spot shushes him and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “I know, baby. Breathe. Jojo is dealing with it.”
“This was supposed to be our day. The best day of our lives and now its-”
“Who says this isn't going to be the best day of our lives?” Spot asks. “Race, we're getting married. We made it through all the shit and every petty fight and here we are. We're getting married. And I love you so much.”
Race is crying again. Spot reaches up to thumb away his tears. “I love you,” Race whispers.
“Let's get you dressed, yeah?”
Though it's not a group effort, Spot helps Race get dressed in his tux. He takes every excuse he can to kiss Race. As he's tying Race's tie, he kisses him deeply the whole time, pulling away only when he's sure the tie is done well. Race is slightly surprised by that.
Jojo enters the room again just as they finish with Albert in tow, looking anxious and disheveled.
“I am so so so sorry,” Albert blurts out. “I am so sorry.”
Spot puts up a hand to stop him. “Do we have the rings?” Jojo nods. “Then it's okay.”
“And the caterers?” Race asks.
“Getting set up now,” Jojo answers. “All is well. We'll do the ceremony in twenty minutes. Are you ready?”
Race looks up at Spot and locks their fingers together. “Yeah.” Spot kisses him quickly and agrees.
Twenty minutes later, the guests are all seated and waiting. At the end of the aisle, Davey stands ready to officially marry them. Behind the big oak doors, Spot and Race stand together, hands locked with wide grins on their faces.
The fanfare begins and the two of them walk hand in hand to the altar. Around them, all their friends and supportive family stand and smile at them. There are a few tears in the crowd as well. Race is trying very hard to keep his own tears at bay. Spot is just as stoic as ever, but there's a loving glint in his eyes. He doesn't need to cry for Race to know how meaningful this is.
The reach the end of the aisle and stand facing each other before all their closest friends and family. Race refuses to let go of Spot's hands. Davey reads his prepared speech, but Race only half hears it. He's so focused on Spot. He's so in love nothing could possibly ruin this moment.
“Sean Conlon, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.”
“Anthony Higgins, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.”
“Then by the power vested in me and the state of New York, I now pronounce you husbands. You may now kiss.”
Davey isn't even done speaking when Race pulls Spot to him, kissing him like he'll lose him at any second. Spot kisses him back just as fervently.
Race pulls back and holds Spot's face in his hands. Everything is fine because he is now married to the most perfect, amazing man who he loves so dearly.
You better write some Sprace fluff! It's the only way to make up for the angst :)
mann i’m a lot better with angst, because that’s how i project Feelings but here ya go ;)
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warnings: none
RACE SIGHED, LOOKING LONGINGLY ACROSS THE CLASSROOM. He didn’t even know the guy’s name. Never spoke to him. But oh yeah, Race definitely had a crush.
Race fiddle with his pencil, twirling it slowly in his hand. The eraser knocked against his worn desk, producing a dull, rhythmic thudding sound. An annoyed but quiet groan came from the student seated in front of Race.
Wincing, Race set his pencil down, settling for intertwining his fingers. He thought back to yesterday, at lunch, when he’d spoken with his close friend Albert about the Guy.
Albert had advised Race to go up to the Guy and speak to him, to which Race had nervously protested. Albert got his way, however, and made Race promise to at least try and talk to the Guy.
Class was almost over and Race had been working on a plan. Part One started when class ended. In Part One, Race would casually drop a pencil next to the Guy.
Part Two was when the Guy would give the pencil back to Race.
Part Three was when Race smiled awkwardly and started up a conversation.
Part Four was … well, truth was, Race hadn’t gotten that far yet.
He sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his the palms of his hands. His fingers curled into his hair as he let out a few silent screams. This plan was never going to work. He barely even had it figured out, let alone the details.
Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. His head jerked up and his hands dropped, tearing him out of his thoughts.
“Everyone’s gone, ‘cept you, ya know,” the person said gently, using a tone that was meant to remind, not to accuse. Race found himself contemplating whether to grab his bag and run out to avoid any embarrassing conversation, or to thank this person for reminding him.
Deciding that it would be better not run, Race explained to the person what he’d been doing. “I was just lost in my thoughts,” he said, in a rush. He hurried to gather his things, getting up and turning to the person. As soon as his gaze rested on the person’s face, he froze. It was the Guy.
Noticing Race’s shocked stare, the Guy cleared his throat. “Are you okay?” he asked. Race shook his head, then nodded, then sighed, tucking his chin to his chest.
“Yep, I’m good,” he murmured, turning and beginning to head towards the door. His leg struck one of the desks, causing him to mumble a few inappropriate things underneath his breath.
“You’ve got quite the mouth,” said the Guy. Race paused, looking over his shoulder at the Guy.
“What?” he said. It wasn’t that Race hadn’t heard what the Guy said, it was that he was wondering why the Guy had said it.
The Guy shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t expect someone as innocent-looking as you to be saying that stuff,” he told Race, who raised his brows curiously.
“Innocent-looking,” he repeated, dead-pan. “That’s not usually the first word people use to describe me. They usually say something a lot more insulting.”
The Guy grinned. “Are you telling me that you’re not as innocent as you seem?” he asked. Race smiled.
“You sure you wanna know?”
The Guy winked and Race felt his jaw drop slightly. The Guy just winked at him. At him, Race Higgins. If he hadn’t truly fallen for this Guy already, Race certainly was tripping head over heels for him now.
“Maybe,” answered the Guy, drawing out every syllable of the word in a way that made Race want to squirm. “How about you meet me at the ice cream parlor down the street after school, and I’ll find out?”
Race found himself with a flood of emotions. Nervousness clutched at his chest and a tempting voice told Race to refuse the offer. Albert’s face flashed through Race’s mind, and he set his mouth in a firm smile.
“That’d be great,” he replied. The Guy grinned, walking up to Race and patting him on the shoulder as he walked by.
“See you then?”
“See you then,” said Race. The Guy was almost out the door when Race ran up to him. “W-wait, can I get your name?”
The Guy grinned. “You bet,” he said. “I’m Sean, but most folks call me Spot.”
“I’m Race. Not my real name, of course. My actual name is Anthony,” he explained. Spot gave an approving nod.
“Does that mean I can’t call you Tony?” asked Spot. Race frowned, shaking his head.
“No Tony, no Ant, no Anthony,” he said cooly. “And no other things. Just Race.”
Spot laughed, making Race’s smile return. “You mean I can’t call you ‘hottie’ or anything?”
Race’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to grasp for words, a ticklish feeling erupting in his chest, floating around and inserting itself into his lungs, taking away his breath as he let out a barely audible gasp. Spot seemed to enjoy the flustered reaction, and he smirked.
“I’ll take that as a yes, I can,” Spot replied for Race. Race snapped his mouth shut, blushing furiously. “See you later.” With a wink, Spot turned and left the room.
Race shook his head, a crazy smile filling his face. Burying his head in his hands, Race’s shoulders shook as he laughed softly. “Wow,” he whispered. “Wow.”
So here is a really really short chapter, cause it's been 2 weeks and I couldn't manage to write this and the next chapter together in a nice way so let's split them up.
My school starts on monday so I hope I get to write more but it's college and all so we'll see.
Anyway deal with Race being a mess. thanks xoxo
Race expected to wake up on Saturday to a million texts from Albert, explaining every detail about his date with Elmer. But instead he only had a text from Romeo who simply send a string of rose emoji’s.
romeo, im not specs remember? He send back, dropping his phone on his bed to take a shower.
During the day Albert didn’t text him either. His phone quiet except for the normal spam from Romeo, which involved lots of gifs and emoji’s that did not make a lot of sense. After dinner Race decided to text Albert, ask him if everything was okay. Within seconds the boy send him a facetime invite. Race pushed his books of his bed to sit down, answering the call.
“How was it?” He asked the second his friend’s face showed up.
“Took you longer than Romeo, he spammed my texts even before I woke up,” Albert smiled, his red hair tucked underneath his cap.
“I wanted to give you some time. I expected you to spam my text this morning.” Race rushed his fingers through his hair shortly, looking at his friend who was nervously playing with a loose earbud between his fingers.
“It was so..” the boy fell silent, trying to find the words. His forehead slightly crinkled.
“What? Amazing? Dreamy? Terrible?? It went good right?” Race rambled, too impatient.
“No, those are not the right words,” Albert could barely contain his laugh as he watched Race getting more and more impatient, his movements almost nervous.
“Come on, Al! you’re just fucking with me now!” He called out, frustrated. His friend started laughing, almost falling backwards on his bed. “Albert!”
“It was great, it was absolutely amazing,” Albert told when he managed to pull himself together again. “He was so adorable and gosh,” The boy started to dream off with a soft sigh
“Did you kiss?” Race interrupted Albert’s daydream, almost knocking over his phone as he waved his hands to get Albert’s attention.
“We might,” He only said, the smirk on his face betraying the real story.
“Oh my god! How was it? Is he a good kisser? How romantic was it?”
“Oh hear that? My mom is calling-“
“No one is calling, Albert. Don’t you dare hang up on me.”
“She is really calling, something with the computer. See you at school!” Directly after that the connection had ended. Race sighed annoyed, letting himself fall backwards on the bed. There he spend the next five minutes sending Albert dozens of texts calling him a traitor and hater. Which all were replied with simple laughing smileys.
hey hey uh another fic, not related to crash at mine tonight, because im kinda cock blocked atm so have this fluffy lil sprace owo
330 words
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"yeah, i'm happy. you're happy. that's good enough for me."
~~
Race was making his way over to brooklyn to visit spot, his 'best friend'. he had snuck out of the boarding house, and now he was at the brooklyn bridge. he picked a couple cute flowers he found on the side of the road, making sure to hold them in such a way that they wouldn’t get damaged whilst he ran through the streets. when he finally reached the brooklyn lodging house, he lit his cigar, and started to climb the escape ladders. when he reached spots window, he peered in and knocked. spot got up as soon as he heard the knock, opening to window and helping him in.
"ay race! hows' ya doin!" he exclaimed.
"i'm doin' great spotty! you seem like ya's not doin' too bad youself!" race replied.
"well, anyways, i'd noticed ya seemed happy whenever ya saw a flower on the street, so..."
race pulled the flowers he'd picked on the brooklyn bridge out from behind his back, presenting the small bouquet to spot.
"race... this is too sweet!"
spot took the flowers, cracking a small smile. he put them down on his desk and turned back around, hugging race so hard that he picked him up and spun around a couple times. race, blushing, hugged him back, and gave him a little peck on the forehead. spot put him down on the bed, and flopped down next to him. it seemed that whenever the tough boy was around race, he would completely relax, and just have fun. after a moment of silence, spot talked first,
"you ok?" he prodded.
"y-yeah! i'm just happy. you're happy, and that’s good enough for me." he said hesitantly.
spot shot up, grabbing the blushing race by the shoulders.
"race, i love you so so much." he said, kissing him on the cheek.
race, blushing bright red, kissed him back, and hugged the smaller boy, who was now sitting on his lap.
