- Chapter 95 - Sappy, Happy, and Cute Sprace Fluff (Yay) -
Warnings: injuries, joking insults/being annoyed, mentions of Revenge, getting soaked, kidnapped, borough wars, etc. Everything y'all have read about, but this is a pretty happy chapter
Third Person POV
"How many weeks did the doctor say Race had to rest for?"
Race looked up, his curiosity now spiked. Please not long, he hoped silently.
"Three weeks to a month," Specs answered, looking over the boy. He noticed the look on his face and shook his head. "Don't make that face at me. It's doctor's orders. You were choked, almost drowned, and a bunch of other things we don't know while you were in East Side," he reminded him. "I think it's a smart choice to stay resting, and it's not like Medda will let you leave anyway."
Race rolled his eyes fondly. He looked at Jack and held up two fingers.
Jack turned to Specs.
Specs rolled his eyes before Jack even said anything. "No, we're not compromising on two weeks."
Race tilted his head as Jack's eyebrows furrowed.
"Changing," Specs rephrased.
Race frowned. "Annoying," he muttered, crossing his arms.
Cloth raised his eyebrows at him. "I better not have just heard you mutter that," he stated. "You didn't break your recovery rules, did you?"
Race rolled his eyes fondly. He shook his head, before cringing in pain.
Cloth sighed deeply. "I missed you, Racetrack," he mumbled, messing with a few things in his first aid kit.
Race smiled. He gestured to himself, then held up two fingers again.
Cloth smiled.
Specs looked between them and smiled as well. "You know who also missed you?"
Race raised an eyebrow.
"Lucky."
Lucky.
It had been forever since Race had seen Lucky.
He really missed him.
Race couldn't wait to go back to Manhattan again.
While thinking about Lucky, he remembered someone else. His eyes widened and he looked at Jack.
Jack smiled. "Tumbler is fine," he informed him, already knowing what he was going to ask. "He successfully made it to Red after he left you, and all he could talk about was that you needed help,"
Race smiled.
The door to the room opened.
Race looked at the door. He couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. "Spot!" he whispered excitedly.
Cloth sighed, looking Race in the eyes. "Racetrack."
Race stared at him. He gestured to Spot as if to ask how he was supposed to stay quiet when he hadn't seen his boyfriend in what felt like forever.
Cloth sighed. He stood up. "I'm going to check up on Ike and Hotshot." He looked at Specs. "Want to join me?"
Specs nodded. "That's a good idea." He stood up and carefully hugged Race. "I missed you, Racer."
Race smiled and hugged Specs back to the best of his ability.
Spot thanked Cloth and Specs as they passed him.
Cloth stopped next to him. He put his hand on Spot's shoulder. "I know you're going to worry about your boyfriend, but know that he's okay," he told him quietly. "You saved him, and it won't be long until he's back to normal. Keep that in mind." He smiled.
Spot nodded. "Thank you, Cloth."
Cloth nodded. "Now, go see your boyfriend." He chuckled and left.
Spot shook his head, chuckling. "Mother, much?" he commented as he entered the room Race was in and shut the door.
"Seriously," Race agreed. His voice was quiet because it hurt to talk.
Jack pursed his lips. "You're going to get in trouble," he commented.
Race raised an eyebrow at him. "How? They're not here," he reminded him quietly.
There was a knock on the door. "Stop straining your voice!" Cloth exclaimed from outside.
Race pouted and crossed his arms. He opened his mouth to complain, but Jack shot him a look and shook his head. Race rolled his eyes fondly.
Spot smiled. He sat down on the bed next to Race and wrapped his arms around him.
Race grinned and cuddled against him, wincing when he made a wrong move. "I love you," he whispered to him.
Spot smiled, completely whipped for the boy in his arms. "I love you too." He pressed a soft kiss to Race's forehead.
Jack smiled as he watched them. He sat up in his chair. "I'm going to go find my boyfriends," he decided. "I'll send Albert in once they make sure Finch isn't concussed."
Race raised an eyebrow at him.
"Some East Side Newsie clocked him over the head with a tree branch," Jack informed him. He cringed thinking about it. "Al's a bit worried, but he'll be fine even if he has a concussion. It just means some time spent on bed rest."
Race grinned evilly. I hope he has a concussion so he can be on bed rest with me.
Jack rolled his eyes fondly. "No, we don't hope that Finch has a concussion," he told him sternly.
Race pouted. But it'll be boring all alone.
"Deal with the boredom, Racer." Jack rolled his eyes again. "It's not that bad."
Race rolled his eyes in response. He stuck his tongue out at him and nuzzled his head into the crook of Spot's neck.
Spot chuckled. He gently rubbed Race's back.
Jack looked at Spot. "Um... before I go..." he sighed, "I'm sorry..." he cringed, "...for blowing up on you. I was just..."
"Worried?" Spot finished his sentence.
Jack nodded. "I don't do well when he's not there to talk some sense into me," he explained, his voice quiet. "It's hard not to blow up on the people I think are the reason one of my brothers is hurt."
Spot nodded. "I understand, Jack. I'd be the same way," he responded.
Jack nodded.
The two boys stayed there in silence for a few minutes. The silence eventually grew awkward.
"Okay, are we all set here?" Spot questioned.
"Yep." Jack nodded. "And I feel like this can stay between us."
Spot nodded in agreement. "No one needs to know we had a moment."
Jack nodded. "I'm going to go find my boyfriends now," he decided. "Love you, Racer." He opened the door and left, closing it behind him.
Spot watched him leave. His attention was pulled away from Jack when he heard muffled giggles from the boy next to him. He chuckled. "What are you laughing at?"
"Why are you two so awkward?" Race mumbled, amused. His head was still tucked into the crook of Spot's neck.
Spot rolled his eyes fondly. "Neither of us were... thinking very straight while you were gone," he admitted.
"Well, you don't normally," Race commented, grinning.
Spot rolled his eyes fondly, smiling when Race burst into another fit of giggles.
"And both of you are terrible at admitting you're wrong, huh?" Race smiled knowingly.
Spot pursed his lips. "Anyway..."
Race snickered a bit.
Spot's smile widened.
He had really missed this boy.
"Speaking of which," Race remember something, "has Jack given you a big brother talk?"
"Yes."
Race pulled his head away and raised an eyebrow at Spot.
"Twice."
Race gestured for him to explain.
Spot chuckled. "Once at a leader meeting after we became official," he informed Race, "and the other time was unofficial."
"What do you mean?" Race asked quietly, curious.
Spot looked down at him. "Remember the day Jack took you to Brooklyn to have you stay there while the whole borough war was going on?" he asked.
Race rolled his eyes fondly. "How could I forget?" he muttered, laying his head on Spot's shoulder.
"Ah, don't be like that." Spot chuckled, wrapping an arm around him. "That decision got you a boyfriend."
"And a new title in Brooklyn." Race rolled his eyes fondly.
Spot chuckled. "I quite like that title, if I do say so myself," he responded. "Anyway, it didn't take much convincing for me to let you stay in Brooklyn. I mean, I care... a lot about you," he admitted.
Race bit his lip to hold back a grin, his cheeks reddening.
"I cared a lot about you then too, almost as much as I do now," Spot informed him, seeming a little embarrassed to admit that.
"Aww." Race pinched his cheek. "You're so cute."
Spot blushed a bit. "Didn't the doctor say you're not supposed to be talking?" he questioned.
Race rolled his eyes fondly. "First, I'm whispering," he replied. "And second, you only care because I'm making you blush."
Spot gasped. "How dare you accuse me of that." He shook his head. "I care because I care about your well-being."
Race raised an eyebrow at him.
Spot looked into his eyes. "Do I need to go get Cloth and tell him that you're hurting yourself more?" he asked.
Race rolled his eyes again. "Just continue." He ushered him on.
Spot chuckled. "Most of Jack and I's conversation consisted of him emphasizing the fact that it was my responsibility to keep you safe and the fact that if I hurt you — or let you get hurt, but mostly if I hurt you — then I'd pay for it," he informed him.
Race smiled. "I love you."
Spot smiled. "I love you too." He leaned down and kissed Race softly.
Race'a smile widened as he closed his eyes and kissed back.
He missed this.
Spot pulled away after a moment.
Race looked at the door. He pursed his lips.
Spot raised an eyebrow at him, reading him like a book. "Does your throat hurt?" he asked knowingly.
Race looked at him. He frowned and nodded, rubbing his throat lightly.
Spot sighed. "As much as I love your voice and beautiful, interesting mix of an Italian and Manhattan accent, you need to stop talking," he told him.
Race nodded, clearly not happy about this fact.
Spot wrapped his arms around Race's waist and gently laid him down, laying down with him.
Race cuddled against his chest, closing his eyes.
Spot smiled and rested his chin on Race's head. He was reveling in the fact that he got to feel Race's soft curls again.
"My accent is amazing," Race mumbled after a few minutes, sounding tired.
Spot chuckled. "I never said it wasn't," he responded softly, starting to play with his hair. "It's just interesting."
"Okay, mister "my boids heard about this today"," Race imitated Spot's accent.
Spot chuckled again. "Hush, principe. You need to rest your voice." He cuddles close to Race.
The fifteen-year-old huffed, but didn't say anything else's
After a few minutes, he was asleep.
Spot smiled widely to himself.
He was so glad to have him back.
1808 Words
I want y'all to know that I changed a small detail about when Revenge stabbed Snowflake in chapter 92. It's not major, but in the event that anyone who read the original chapter is confused if they read it again, it was changed.