Could you please write some sprace fluff? I love how u don't mischaracterise them, Most sprace fics really infantalise them.
Hello :)
Sorry it took a bit but I first needed inspiration and then also time. Hope you like it!
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Race hung around the front door of the lodging house, shuffling his cards and pretending he wasn’t waiting for someone, though at least his friends most likely noticed he was. Blink had raised an eyebrow, and Jack would have probably made a joke if he wasn’t busy telling David what he’d missed while in school the last few days.
Skittery, on the other hand, looked a bit suspicious, and it was, admittedly, rightfully so.
“Hey there Skitts, mind if I borrow your rake for a sec’ there?” ‘The Rake’ of course referring to Swifty, one of Skittery’s selling partners – he switched between the quick-footed thief and the smooth-talking dancer, Bumlets, as well as his Little, Tumbler, depending on what day it was – and Race had an important favour to ask of the tall boy.
“So long as you’re not pullin’ him in some kinda scheme.”, Skittery just grumbled but went inside after Swifty silently squeezed his hand and smiled at him.
Cocking his head to the side, Swifty asked: “So? What’s this about, Race?”
Trading the shuffling of cards for biting on his unlit cigar, Race thought about the best words to explain his favour without making it seem too obvious. “So I wanted ta gift my girl a picture ‘a me, you know? To put in a purse or somethin’, that romantic stuff. And takin’ pictures ‘s expensive, of course.” Swifty nodded. “Well, you’re pretty good at drawin’, so I thought… well, if you’ve got time, could you help me with that?”
At the very latest, Race had seen that Swifty was good at capturing likeness of people when he’d done a banner with Pulitzer’s face on it during the strike, Crutchie had helped, but most of the general face structure and shape had been sketched by Swifty before they’d gone in with the red paints. And he’d seen some parts of his sketchbook when the Asian boy lounged on his bunk and sketched the others as they talked or played marbles.
“You could’ve asked Denton to take a picture, I’m sure he’d have done one for old times’ sake.”, Swifty offered, but he didn’t seem like he just wanted to say no to Race, just to offer another option.
“I know, I just think he’d want to talk and all’at so I thought you’d be easier.”
Swifty laughed a bit and hit Race on the back. “Then, glad to hear I’m the first choice! I got some time and maybe even a sketch with you already, I got some of most’a the boys. We’ll get you somethin’ for your girl.”
Race nodded, glad that Swifty hadn’t asked who it was for. Well, he probably knew, at least partly, but as long as Race never openly admitted it, he wouldn’t have broken his secrecy. “Thanks.” He then grabbed Swifty’s hand, only barely catching the cigarette Swifty had just pulled out of his vest before it disappeared in one of the tall boy’s pockets. “And tell Skitts to get his own cigs instead of stealin’ from me for him.”
With his sufficiently detailed drawing – Race had to admit the other was really good at what he did – Race set out to Brooklyn the next day. He wouldn’t get to see Spot in the morning, he knew he had a lot to do at the docks from all he’d heard from him and the whispers going around there were some issues with selling spots to be solved, but from a little note he’d found appearing in mysterious ways in his vest pocket yesterday, he knew Spot would be waiting for him at a secluded little park in the afternoon.
A typical thing, if you had to meet privately with Spot, as Race had learned long ago.
Selling itself didn’t go much different than usual, he even greeted some of the Coney Island selling girls he saw and just made sure the drawing in his pocket wouldn’t take any damage in tumbling or from potential drinks spilled on him. It was important, and he couldn’t press Swifty for another one, especially with everyone knowing he’d only been in Brooklyn today – and maybe some people would put two and two together if he gave too many hints as to where he always met his ‘girl’.
The blond he was meeting though, was already in the park when Racetrack arrived, cane lying next to him and pink suspenders hanging down as he sat, legs crossed, in the shade of some trees, mostly out of view if you didn’t know where to look.
“Took you long enough.”, was all he said, without even looking up. Race knew him well enough to hear the silent ‘I missed you’.
“I walked an hour ta get here and all I get is a complaint? Might as well walk straight back ta Manhattan if that’s all you’re offerin’.” As much as he said he’d leave, he just sat down next to Spot without hesitation.
Spot’s fingers tangled with his without either of them looking down, trusting the long grass to cover anything if anyone were to see them.
“Heard you got some problems ta solve today.” Did you have a long day? Do you need to rest a bit?
Spot hummed, eyes half-lidded as he looked out to the bit of the river you could see between the trees. “Yeah. Could’ve been worse. I always solve these thin’s.”
“I know.” It was part of why everyone trusted and feared him.
After a few minutes of drinking in the pleasantly warm shade, Race used his free hand to take the drawing from his pocket. “I got somethin’ for you, by the way. Not sure where you’d want to… I mean, I just thought it’d be nice.” He held the paper out to Spot, waiting for a reaction, but for a few seconds all he did was widen his grey eyes. “I mean it’ prob’ly a bit bit, usually these thin’s go into lockets or some shit, and that’s too much I know, you don’t gotta-“
But before he could finish, Spot had pried the drawing from his fingers, mouth slightly open. “You got this… for me? Where’d you get it? It looks… so much like you.”
That did make Race smile. “Swifty, he’s drawin’ real good. And I guess Denton could’ve done like a picture, you know like we got from the papes, but I thought this’d be even better.”
“It is.” Spot pulled him close by the hands they still had intertwined and hugged him, whispering: “Thank you, my love.”
As long as he dared to, Spot held him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as they parted, then quickly turning to his cane as Race smiled like an idiot. He couldn’t believe Spot liked it that much. Unscrewing the golden top part of his cane, Spot rolled up the drawing carefully and put it inside.
“Didn’t know it could do that.”
“It’s useful. And I get ta always have you there.”
“Sap.”
“You gave me a drawin’ of yourself.”
Racetrack rolled his eyes but the smile still on his face would have told a much lesser observer than Spot was that he knew they were both head over heels for each other. And since Spot had already put his gift away…
Pulling out his pocket watch, Race lifted the little extra plate in the front to reveal the little cutout he’d put in there from the pape featuring Spot’s face. “And I thought you could use somethin’ like this.”
Spot laughed, but any half-a-second fear that he’d been too weird was overwritten by the fond look Race saw on the usually so feared King of Brooklyn. “I got that picture in my room. Not cut out, but… ‘s mostly for us.”
Shoving Spot with his elbow, Race teased: “That’s unfair, I gotta get another somethin’ then, you can’t have two picture of this handsome mug.”
“Ever heard of less is more?”
“Not when it’s about me havin’ more of you, tesoro.”
That made Spot blush, which was a clear win in Racetrack’s book. “Maybe you’ll get somethin’. Maybe.”
“Can’t wait.”
