"Oh la gioia," Racetrack muttered as he watched the approaching figure. It was the infamous Spot Conlon, obviously here to worm his way into some girl's heart, then make her life hell. "What're you doing here?" Race spat.
"Tsk, tsk. Now, that's no way to treat a customer, is it?" Spot asked, coolly, smirking. Racetrack sighed.
"What d'you want?" he asked, monotonously. Spot grinned.
"Mint chocolate chip."
"Waffle cone, or cup?"
"Cup," Spot replied leaning against the counter.
Racetrack worked in Haggan-daz on weekends, and Spot's favorite pastime was to go over there and taunt Race. Race handed him the ice cream, and he slid a five across the counter.
"Keep the change," he said with a wink, before sauntering off to a table. Racetrack stared after him for a moment, then shook his head and tucked the five into the register.
Spot was gay. That's why it bugged the hell out of Race when he saw him hitting on some poor, random girl at the mall. Race hated the way her expression changed from adoration, to shock, to embarrassment, all in three seconds flat.
Racetrack was homophobic, or anything. Truth be told, Race was gay, too. Not a lot of people knew that; only his close friends. But he thought Spot was a disgrace.
He continued working, but he couldn't help but sneak glances over at Spot every now and then. Surprisingly enough, Spot wasn't flirting with anyone—be it girl or guy. Instead, he was sitting in a corner, slowly eating his ice cream, and just observing people.
Race looked away, and began tending to the customers. "Hey, mint chocolate chip in a cup?" someone asked. Race nodded and scooped it out, then turned around.
It was Spot.
"Another one? God, Spot, you're a pig," he teased, only half joking. Spot grinned.
"Yeah, well…" He slid a few bucks across the counter. "What time do you get off?" Race raised an eyebrow.
"…six…"
"So suspicious!" Spot grinned. "I was just wondering!" He took his ice cream and sauntered out.
Race forgot about the little episode, and continued working. Six came around, and Two-Bits came to him.
"Hey, Race, I've got to meet somebody! Can you lock up for me?" she called.
"Yeah, sure thing. Not like I've got plans." She grinned.
"You need a boyfriend, hon."
"Yeah, right. Who're you going with?"
"Me and Skitts and Dutchy are going to see The Village!"
"I need a boyfriend?" Two-Bits made a face.
"Hey, I have fun watched them snog. You, on the other hand, get moody when you don't have a boyfriend."
"Whatever. I'll close up."
"Thanks, babe!" Two-Bits swaggered out.
Race locked up, and ducked out of the shop, and headed for his car. The driver's door was locked. Growling, he went to the other side, which was unlocked, and slid in, planning to slide over to the driver's seat.
Unfortunately, someone was already in his seat.
"You said six!" Spot pouted. Race's jaw dropped.
"I had to—What are you doing in my car?!" Spot grinned.
"We're going to the movies!" Spot said, giving Race a look as if he should've known that.
"We are?"
"Yes! I asked you what time you get off, and you said six!" Race frowned.
"So! I didn't mean that we could go to the movies at six!" Spot rolled his eyes.
"That's usually how it goes. Honestly, have you EVER been on a date?" Race glared at him.
"Yes, I have!" He paused. "Just not in a long time," he added, sheepishly.
"Well, now is the time for breaking the habit."
"Breaking the habit tonight!" they sang in unison. There was an awkward pause after that. "Well, we're here!" he announced. Racetrack jumped. He hadn't even realized they were moving.
"What are we seeing, anyways?" Race asked. He had given up fighting. Hey, it was a free movie! Spot quirked an eyebrow.
"We're seeing The Village."
"Sweet!"
They bought their tickets, their popcorn, and their soda, and entered the dark theatre, which, because The Village had been out for a while, was pretty empty.
"We lucked out. We can have back seats!" Spot whispered, leading Race up to the dark back seats. He slid into a chair, and Race slid in next to him. The movie started, and they sat in silence, and Race thought that this night might be peaceful.
Oh how wrong he was.
It started with a particularly suspenseful moment, and then a monster was sighted. Race jumped a foot in the air and slammed his hand down on the arm rest. Only problem was, the armrest wasn't there. It was broken.
Thrown off balance, he tumbled into Spot's side, and Spot's arms wrapped around him, keeping him from falling onto the sticky movie-theatre floor. "Slick," Spot teased.
"Shut up," Race replied, pouting, slightly. They watched a bit more, and it suddenly occurred to Race that Spot's arms were still around him. He glanced over at Spot. "Um…Spot?"
"Hmm?" Spot asked, not looking away from the screen, but the corners of his mouth curled up, slightly. Race blushed.
"You're, uh, you're still—" Spot looked down.
"Oh, sorry, Race!" he exclaimed, as if he hadn't noticed. He pulled his arms away, and Race sat up straight, blushing, still.
They watched a bit more, and went without interruption. For a while.
Race reached over for the popcorn and picked up a couple of pieces, just as an incredibly tense scene showed up. It was right when the monsters were invading, and Ivy was holding her hand out, waiting for Lucius to come. Race was leaning forward, his fingers still hovering over the popcorn bag.
Spot leaned over and sucked the popcorn, butter, and salt from Race's fingers. Race jumped and let out a rather girly scream.
"Don't. DO THAT!" he hissed, wiping his fingers on his jeans. Spot grinned.
"Well, you weren't going to eat it!" Spot retorted. Race grabbed the bag of popcorn and opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of a comeback.
"Yes I was!"
Or at least, he couldn't think of a good comeback.
Again, they lapsed into silence, Race still blushing, and watched the movie.
Until Spot decided he needed popcorn.
He leaned over, and grabbed some popcorn, but didn't lean back. "You know, that guy—Lucius—looks really familiar." Race rolled his eyes.
"That's 'cause he was in Signs, genius." Spot laughed.
"Oh yeah. Smart boy," he laughed, tapping Race's head. He let his hand drop and settled back into his seat. It took Race a moment (he was high on Mountain Dew) to realize that Spot's hand was resting on his thigh. He opened his mouth to say something, but Spot squeezed, and Race happens to be very ticklish, so he gave YET ANOTHER girly scream.
"Damnit, Spot! You're a menace!" he hissed, elbowing said menace in the stomach. Spot just stared straight ahead, but his slight smile increased.
Race growled and fumed for a bit, then once again got sucked into the movie. He slouched down in his chair, leaning his head against the seat.
"Holyshit!" he exclaimed, as Spot pulled him into his side. Spot had, apparently, slithered his arm around Race's waist without him noticing.
Maybe Spot micked his Mountain Dew…
"Spot, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Race demanded, flustered and blushing. Spot grinned down at him, resting his chin on Race's head.
"Well, I thought it was rather obvious," he murmured, tilting Race's head upwards, slightly, and whispering into his ear.
"Well-I mean-It is, but—" Racetrack stammered, not really sure what to say.
"Seems to me, you seem to be getting too into the movie. I'm just giving you little jolts back into reality every now and then," Spot said, innocently, smirking down at Race.
"Well, I don't need those kinds of jolts!" Racetrack retorted, blushing even more.
"Well, no one every said how one was to go about bringing one's boyfriend back to the real world," Spot replied. Race ignored him, and sat up. He also tried to remove Spot's arm from around his waist, but Spot would dig his fingertips in when Race got close, and it was just enough pressure not to tickle, but still…
"I am not your boyfriend!" he snapped, suddenly, about five minutes after Spot had dropped his comment. Spot's smile grew wider.
"No," he acknowledged, "not yet." Race felt his blush deepen.
Pointedly ignoring Spot, Race turned his gaze back to the screen, and fought not to squirm as Spot slowly worked his fingers under Race's shirt and dug his fingertips into his skin.
Spot, however, knew this, because he could feel Race tensing under his touch. He was fighting to hide his wide smile. He almost burst out laughing when Ivy met up with the security guard. His eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped.
"Quite a twist, eh?" Spot whispered, huskily, into Race's ear, before grazing his teeth, gently, against his earlobe.
Race flushed brilliant red, and didn't answer. Spot sat back, but he was smirking.
And then the movie ended.
Race, who had been leaning forward throughout the movie, leaned back, with a sigh, and would've screamed, had Spot not, knowingly, slapped his hand across his mouth. Spot had situated himself half in Race's chair without his knowing, and so when Race leaned back, it was right into Spot's chest.
Spot snickered, softly, and nuzzled Race's neck, whispering, "Don't scream. You've already made quite the fool of yourself." Numbly, Race stood up, and filed out of the theatre, Spot on his heels every step of the way.
"Well, Racey. Glad to see you took my advice. Didn't know it would be this quickly," said a sickeningly familiar voice, a smirk very clear on her voice. Wincing, Racetrack turned around to look, guiltily, at Two-Bits, flanked by Skittery and Dutchy.
"I'm not—he's not—we're not—" Race stammered, and Two-Bits's smirk widened. Spot decided to very unhelpfully snake his arm around Race's waist.
"Uh-huh," she said, clearly unconvinced. She glanced over Spot, taking in his appearance. "He looks like boyfriend material. I approve," she said, and Race squeezed his eyes shut, as if hoping everyone would disappear. Spot took every advantage.
Swiftly, he raised one hand to grasp Race's jaw, twisting it towards him. Race's eyes flew open, but before he could do anything, Spot had leaned forward and pressed his lips against Race's, firmly. Race's knees weakened, and nearly buckled. Whatever this was, it was brilliant, by Race's standards. Spot gently sucked on Racetrack's lower lip before pushing his tongue past Race's teeth. He toyed, teasingly, with Race's tongue, before pulling back, his smirk in place, but his cheeks were flushed, slightly.
"Yeah. Definitely boyfriend material."