100 Ways to Say "I love you" - Sprace (NEWSIES)

9- "I saved a piece for you."

Race's friends had finally left, and Spot could feel the peace and quiet of their apartment return. Don't get him wrong, he liked Race's friends...or at least most of them. They were just loud, and occasionally overbearing, at least for Spot's tastes. He wasn't big on several discussions going on at once in one room, it felt like his brain was being scrambled. Spot enjoyed it most when he and Race would go to their rooftop, taking in the sights and sounds of Brooklyn, quietly chatting about whatever came to mind. His social battery usually drained pretty quickly, but those moments with Race? He could live in them forever. 

A small knock at the door took Spot's attention. He spun in his chair to face the door. 

"You know you can come in, right Toni?" 

A slightly flustered Race entered, shrugging. 

"I didn't know if you were decent." 

That was valid, Spot had gone off to do work, and he was currently in pyjama trousers and nothing else - for all Race knew he could have been getting changed. At the thought of his work, Spot turned his attention back to his laptop. He had finished barely half of what he had set out to do that evening - in part the fault of Jack and Albert drunkenly singing for about two hours earlier, which left Spot unable to do anything other than blast the Hamilton musical through his headphones as loudly as possible to drown them out. He would rather go deaf due to Thomas Jefferson than have to hear Jack and Albert sing again. Needless to say, he hadn't been all that productive. He groaned, and rested his head on his desk. He heard light footfall behind him - Race was walking towards him. A hand on his shoulder.

"You need a break, Sean" 

He turned his face a little more so he could look at Race out of one eye; hair immediately falling into it. He tried to blow it away, but with the position he was in, he was just making the situation worse. Race chuckled and brushed Spot's hair out of his face for him. 

"Come on, let's go watch a show." 

Spot sat back up properly, glancing again at his laptop. 

"Fuck the work, you look exhausted. Come on." 

He groaned again, this time in feigned annoyance with Race. He really could do with a break before bed. His stomach rumbled. And food. Race must have heard because he laughed as he walked out the room. 

"And I'm ordering pizza."

Spot wasn't sure exactly how, but within approximately three seconds of that phrase being uttered, he was sat upright on the sofa, TV remote in hand. The promise of pizza apparently motivated him...good to know. Race threw him his phone, with a menu already loaded up. He took a look through, trying to find something new, or at least more interesting than Race's basic Margherita. It was always something Spot had found fascinating about Race - for an Italian he tended to eat a lot of very basic food, with very few flavours, whenever they went anywhere or ordered in. If he was cooking, it was an entirely different story; Race was a domestic god in that regard, and Spot reckoned he could eat nothing but Race's cooking for the rest of his life - it was incredible. But eating food made by someone else? He was always plain. Spot put Race's order in, already knowing what he'd have, and then stumbled across something which took his fancy; Nduja, pepperoni, and spicy honey. His stomach rumbled again at the thought. Yeah, that seemed like a good choice. And Race liked heat too, so hopefully it'd be a winner on all counts. 

Race was on his way over with some drinks for them, and Spot handed him back his phone so he could place the order. He noted Race's approving smile at what Spot had got for himself. It was unspoken between them that Race always got a little bit of Spot's food. Ever since Spot found out why Race ate so plainly out of the house, just about a year ago. Out of the blue, Spot had queried it, simply out of curiosity. He remembered how Race's gaze had lowered as he had explained - he didn't like wasting food. What was the point of ordering something different, but not liking it and having wasted food? Spot knew Race's family. It wasn't the food he had been worried about; it was wasting money. With how rarely he had been able to go out as a kid, pretty much only for the birthdays of himself or his siblings, Race had always eaten plain food he knew he liked, so that he never had to 'waste money' ordering more. And so, Spot started being more adventurous in his choices, always offering some for Race to try. He now had a list of a few places where Race enjoyed nearly everything on the menu, and felt comfortable knowing that he was going to like what he got; he had taken him to one of those places the other week. As far as he knew, Race hadn't caught on to what Spot was doing. He'd probably be mad if he did find out; not because Spot had done anything wrong, but because Race was a people pleaser, and he didn't like the idea of someone else going out of their way to make him happy. Too bad.

Race sat down next to Spot, half melting into the sofa. It was gone one in the morning, a totally ridiculous time for them to be up watching a show and ordering in dinner, but something about the ridiculousness of it made it feel all the more special to Spot. Not even Race's closest friends got to experience Race's early morning character analyses like he did. 

Within the next hour, they had continued their binge of Ginny and Georgia and devoured most of their pizza, and Race had found his way to sleeping in Spot's lap. Spot wasn't entirely sure when or how Race had gotten into that position, but he hadn't moved since, in case he woke him up. It had been quite nice, sitting in silence (because god forbid he watch even a second of their show without Race) and playing with Race's dark curls. He cast a glance over to the clock on their living room wall; 02:37. If he wanted to go to the gym tomorrow, that would mean waking up early...which meant he had to put Race to bed right about now. 

He slowly worked his way out from under Race. His first task? leftovers. Race had finished almost all of his own pizza - Spot assumed he had fallen asleep before he finished, as he knew Race had definitely been hungry enough to finish it - and Spot had left a singular piece of his own for Race. He boxed up what was left and put it in the fridge, also opting to throw out the trash now so that Race wouldn't feel like he had to do it in the morning. And now, how to carry Race to his room without disturbing him? 

Spot sighed. Bridal style. Of course. He scooped Race up as gently as he could, and resisted the urge to scream at Race nuzzling his face into Spot's neck, one arm moving unconsciously to Spot's chest. Sleeping Race needed to not be so clingy. Spot walked him over to his room, being careful to put Race down gently and tuck him in. He ran his hand through Race's hair as the sleeping man mumbled in his sleep. 

"Goodnight, Antonio." 

----

Race woke up in his own bed. This was a pretty normal occurrence for him, but seemingly teleporting from the sofa to his room was not. He blushed. Spot must have carried him over. He groaned, rolling out of bed - he didn't want to get up, but he had to, with deadlines and work both waiting for him. He was pleasantly surprised to see a clean living area; Spot must have done that last night. 

"Spot?" 

No answer. Probably still sleeping. 

He was going to make Spot breakfast, but seeing as he had no answer, he'd wait until he knew his roommate was around. Instead, he went to the fridge to find any scraps of food he could snack on - unfortunately an apple wasn't going to cut it for his mildly hungover state. There, on the middle shelf, was a small container Race hadn't seen last time he had done meal prep, meaning Spot had left it there. A note was attached to the top. Intrigued, Race read it.

Toni,

I'm at the gym - here's your leftover pizza from last night, and I know you wanted to try some of mine, so I saved a piece for you. Enjoy breakfast; should be home by 10!

- S x

Something about the kiss following the message made Race feel all fuzzy inside. Waking up to a clean apartment and a little domestic note? What else could he ask for. He smiled as he heated up his leftovers. While kisses from Spot in text or note form weren't unheard of, especially if he was tired, they were certainly rare. From what Race had discovered over the years, Spot wasn't overly affectionate with people, and didn't really send kisses to anyone outside his family; much unlike Race, who was the friend to end every text with 'xx' by default. If he didn't sign off like that, something was wrong. 

He was totally going to be teasing Spot about this later. 

A/N: Heya! Updates are going to be getting a little slower for a short while - my exams are now fast approaching and I have mountains of work to get through for them! I'll be done with them on March 10th though, so that's good, not long left of suffering through them now haha! I'm still writing in this time, just less, as while I find it relaxing, some days I've just been so wiped out all I really want to do is sleep, with obviously means I don't write on those days. 

Also, that pizza Spot had? That's a real pizza at a restaurant near me, and I LOVE it. I'm usually not that big on heat, but it's amazing - the slight sweetness of the honey which is chilli infused, along with both the pepperoni and nduja is just...*chef's kiss*.