This is just an early Valentines Day fic.
Summary: Spot visits Race on Valentines Day.
Rock on.
**** ~Valentines day for Dummies~
Spot was nervous. Not only did it seem weird to pay a visit to your best guy friend on Valentines Day, it seemed a little bit insane, because technically, he should have been sitting alone in his room all day lamenting his lack of a love life. Weird as it was though, Spot had to choose between locking himself in his room all day, or locking himself in Racetracks room all day. At least the latter included having actual company. And Racetrack Higgins was good company to have.
So here Spot was, waiting for his vertically challenged best friend to answer the door. On a normal basis, it only took five knocks, but today it seemed to take ten, and Spot hated waiting. His nervousness faded, as he was more than slightly put off by the prospect of Race being gone on a date. The Italian boy was pretty good with the ladies, so it wouldn't be such a big surprise if a date were the reason no one was answering the door.
With a dejected sigh, and shoulders slumped, Spot turned to leave. He was halfway to the street when he heard a door squeak open and a voice cry "Spot!"
Spot spun around with a grin, which faltered when he saw his best friend. His almost naked best friend, if not for the small white towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water streamed down his stomach, only to disappear under that towel. "Jesus, Race," the blond found himself saying, "put on some clothes."
Racetrack smirked at his friend. He had been singing in the shower, until he got to the part in the song where he usually did a little dance under the spray of water, when he had heard the persistent knocking at the front door. So afraid that he would miss whoever was there, he had simply thrown a towel around his waist and bounded down the stairs, only to find his favorite person in the world leaving.
"What's wrong, not enjoying the view?"
Spot scowled. "You wish, short stuff."
Race only laughed, and motioned for Spot to come inside. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour."
"You were expecting me?" Spot was baffled-how would Race know his plans before even he knew his plans?
"Well yeah. Who else would you spend V-day with?"
Spot pretended to consider as they climbed the stairs to Races room. "Well, most guys would spend it with their girlfriend, but I'm--"
"A flaming homosexual?" Once they were in his room, the naked boy smirked at his friends' choice of wardrobe. A tight black shirt, skintight jeans, and a collar decorated with rhinestones. Sure, he looked hot, but still...
"Oh my god, do I seriously look gay?" Spot looked down, his blue eyes wide in shock.
Race rolled his eyes. "Spot, you are gay."
"Flamboyantly gay?"
"No, not flamboyantly gay." He grinned. "Well, actually...ow!"
The baseball worked every time; he just chucked the ball gently at Races arm-one of his most sensitive areas. Of course, Spot would never intentionally hurt Racetrack. That silly little Italian meant more to him than he would ever admit.
"Shut up. I'm not flamboyant. If I were, more guys would know I'm gay, and I would actually have a valentine!"
Race put on a hurt look. "I thought I was your valentine."
"I wanted to have hot valentine sex after a nice romantic dinner." He groaned. "Oh my god, I am so gay...Racey, hold me!"
Race laughed as his friend threw himself into his arms, fake sobbing. Spot was always claiming that Race was gay; he just didn't know it yet. But Spot was there to comfort him in a sex-filled way once he finally realized his true sexual orientation. In all honestly, Race had been questioning himself lately. He was embarrassed to remember he had pictured himself kissing his adorable gay best friend more than once. Which reminded him...
"Oh man, I almost forgot!"
"What, that you're naked and holding me in your arms? I told you it was only a matter of time!"
Race blushed. He had completely forgotten he was only wearing a towel! With a groan of embarrassment, he struggled his way out of Spots arms and over to his closet. Once he had on some decent clothing, he turned back to the pouting Spot, and caught himself thinking, 'God, I want to kiss him so bad.'
Instead he said, "No, you idiot, I got you a present!"
"You...got me a...?" Spot was surprised, and touched. He had stolen a card from the grocery store for Race, but thought it to be a bit much, so he had left it in his room under a pile of clothes. Now he wished he had brought it. His very best friend in the world bought him a Valentines present! Every time he began to wonder why he was in love with Race, the guy did something totally amazing and sweet.
Well, he corrected himself, he was only sixteen, and so it probably wasn't love, just a really nice crush that made him all tingly inside. Yeah, he just a major crush on his completely hot best friend. 'It's just this whole Valentines Day thing' he told himself, 'It's making me act like a total girl.'
Race stared at his best friend in confusion. The blond boy looked to be in deep thought. "Uh...Spot? Spot Conlon, you in there somewhere?"
"Huh? Oh, OH! You got me a present! Shit!" Race was even more confused when Spot began to go through his stuff. He made some sort of victorious noise when he found a pencil and paper, then began to write. Once he finished, he folded up the note and placed it in the still baffled boys hand.
Race unfolded the paper and read it over, before laughing loudly. It said, 'I.O.U. Love, S. Conlon'
Spot tapped his foot impatiently, though the effect was ruined by his smile. "Now, give me my present!"
"Okay, okay." Race shuffled around his room a bit, and Spot's smile became even larger as Race pulled a prettily wrapped package out from behind his bed. Honestly, Spot didn't know how anything could be found in that room. It was an absolute pigsty-but who cared, he was going to get a present!
It was wrapped in shiny red paper, and was shaped like a weird triangle. Spot looked up at Race-who gave a small affirmative nod-before tearing into it. Race was a horrible wrapper, so the paper came off easily, revealing a heart shaped box of chocolate covered cherries.
"I...you got me chocolate covered cherries?" Spot asked quietly, and Race was afraid he'd done something wrong until the blond cried, "These are my favorites! You're the best, Racey!" He threw his arms around Race in a hug.
They stayed in that position for a moment, until things got awkward, and both boys jumped away from the other. It was bit too perfect, in Spot's opinion, and a bit to uncomfortable in Race's. So Race simply glanced at his watch, his eyes widening at the time.
"Jesus, it's almost time for dinner. Come on, I'll cook something for us."
Spot batted his eyes. "And then the hot sex?"
"And then the hot sex," Race sighed. And promptly blushed; he hadn't meant to say that.
Spot, however, seemed overjoyed. After pumping a fist into the air, he sped out of Race's room, until he could hear the other boy running down the stairs. With a sigh, and a smile, Race followed suite.
The Higgins' kitchen was an Italian wonderland. At least that's how Spot saw it. Sometimes he was glad he knew Race just so he had an excuse to go over for some authentic Italian cooking. He may have been skinny, but he loved food.
"Hey, Spotty, turn on the radio so I don't have to listen to you while I cook."
'Spotty' scowled and did as asked. "Man," he said over the music, "you sure know how to kill the mood."
As Race pulled out some pots he called over his shoulder, "The mood was never alive to begin with, Spotty!"
Spot pouted. Racetrack could be so cold and cruel sometimes, and he didn't even care if he shot down his best friend. Spot was beginning to wonder once again why he loved that goofy little Italian so much.
As the radio played, spaghetti was made. The pasta was in the pot, and the sauce was being made by the youngest Higgins' himself. It was a fun business, watching him cook. He always did the cutest dances when the radio played, which looked even cuter as he threw in spices with gusto.
After throwing in a particularly large 'pinch' of garlic into the sauce, Race spun around and danced over to Spot, who sat at the kitchen table looking on in shock. Race lip-synced for a minute for bending down to kiss his best friend on the cheek. Spot, through his shock, managed to think, 'Oh yeah, that's why I love him.'
It didn't take long to make the spaghetti, and some garlic bread to go with it. It took an even shorter amount of time to eat it all. The boys laughed and joked around all during dinner. It wasn't exactly romantic, but it made Spot happy.
"You're the best valentine I've ever had."
Race grinned over at his friend. "You're supposed to say that after the hot sex."
Spot smiled sweetly. "I usually go for baby talk after the hot sex."
For a second, Race laughed, until he grew serious. They were back in his room, with Spot on the bed and himself in the doorway. It was a good time for saying stuff to each other. Like him finally admitting to himself and the other boy the crush he had been harboring for quite some time.
"Look, Spot, I need to talk to you."
Spot looked up, slightly panicked by the tone of Races voice. He sounded so serious...what if the sex joke were taking it to far? "Look, Racey, I'm sorry, we don't have to do the sex jokes anymore. I'll stop!"
"Spot."
"I mean, sure, it's fun, but even I admit the sex jokes are a little much."
"Spot."
"So it's all good, okay?" Spot nibbled at his bottom lip, nervous.
"SPOT!"
Spot looked up with a start, unaware Race had been trying to get his attention. "Yeah?"
"I..." He bit the inside of his cheek, unaware of what to say. 'Well, our teacher always says actions say it best, so here goes.' He crossed the room, pushed Spot down, and pressed their lips together. And then they were kissing.
Not one to deny a good thing, Spot kissed back. Their lips moved together, trying to find a rhythm, and Race was struck with thinking everything was perfect. The way Spot felt underneath him, the way he smelled like new shampoo, the way he tasted like cherries (he'd popped one in his mouth once he was done with dinner and gave one to Race to eliminate the garlic), and the way he looked when they separated-eyes half open and lips parted while he panted calmly.
"I like you." Race whispered.
"Well, this is the part where we have the comfort sex." Spot said trying to lighten the mood.
Race laughed, a breathy sound as he leaned down to ghost his lips over Spots. "Those chocolate covered cherries tasted good."
"You tasted good," Spot muttered. "Kiss me again!"
"Happy Valentines Day." And then Race kissed him.
~End~
Well, that's it. Review please, and make me happy.
Summary: Spot visits Race on Valentines Day.
Rock on.
**** ~Valentines day for Dummies~
Spot was nervous. Not only did it seem weird to pay a visit to your best guy friend on Valentines Day, it seemed a little bit insane, because technically, he should have been sitting alone in his room all day lamenting his lack of a love life. Weird as it was though, Spot had to choose between locking himself in his room all day, or locking himself in Racetracks room all day. At least the latter included having actual company. And Racetrack Higgins was good company to have.
So here Spot was, waiting for his vertically challenged best friend to answer the door. On a normal basis, it only took five knocks, but today it seemed to take ten, and Spot hated waiting. His nervousness faded, as he was more than slightly put off by the prospect of Race being gone on a date. The Italian boy was pretty good with the ladies, so it wouldn't be such a big surprise if a date were the reason no one was answering the door.
With a dejected sigh, and shoulders slumped, Spot turned to leave. He was halfway to the street when he heard a door squeak open and a voice cry "Spot!"
Spot spun around with a grin, which faltered when he saw his best friend. His almost naked best friend, if not for the small white towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water streamed down his stomach, only to disappear under that towel. "Jesus, Race," the blond found himself saying, "put on some clothes."
Racetrack smirked at his friend. He had been singing in the shower, until he got to the part in the song where he usually did a little dance under the spray of water, when he had heard the persistent knocking at the front door. So afraid that he would miss whoever was there, he had simply thrown a towel around his waist and bounded down the stairs, only to find his favorite person in the world leaving.
"What's wrong, not enjoying the view?"
Spot scowled. "You wish, short stuff."
Race only laughed, and motioned for Spot to come inside. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour."
"You were expecting me?" Spot was baffled-how would Race know his plans before even he knew his plans?
"Well yeah. Who else would you spend V-day with?"
Spot pretended to consider as they climbed the stairs to Races room. "Well, most guys would spend it with their girlfriend, but I'm--"
"A flaming homosexual?" Once they were in his room, the naked boy smirked at his friends' choice of wardrobe. A tight black shirt, skintight jeans, and a collar decorated with rhinestones. Sure, he looked hot, but still...
"Oh my god, do I seriously look gay?" Spot looked down, his blue eyes wide in shock.
Race rolled his eyes. "Spot, you are gay."
"Flamboyantly gay?"
"No, not flamboyantly gay." He grinned. "Well, actually...ow!"
The baseball worked every time; he just chucked the ball gently at Races arm-one of his most sensitive areas. Of course, Spot would never intentionally hurt Racetrack. That silly little Italian meant more to him than he would ever admit.
"Shut up. I'm not flamboyant. If I were, more guys would know I'm gay, and I would actually have a valentine!"
Race put on a hurt look. "I thought I was your valentine."
"I wanted to have hot valentine sex after a nice romantic dinner." He groaned. "Oh my god, I am so gay...Racey, hold me!"
Race laughed as his friend threw himself into his arms, fake sobbing. Spot was always claiming that Race was gay; he just didn't know it yet. But Spot was there to comfort him in a sex-filled way once he finally realized his true sexual orientation. In all honestly, Race had been questioning himself lately. He was embarrassed to remember he had pictured himself kissing his adorable gay best friend more than once. Which reminded him...
"Oh man, I almost forgot!"
"What, that you're naked and holding me in your arms? I told you it was only a matter of time!"
Race blushed. He had completely forgotten he was only wearing a towel! With a groan of embarrassment, he struggled his way out of Spots arms and over to his closet. Once he had on some decent clothing, he turned back to the pouting Spot, and caught himself thinking, 'God, I want to kiss him so bad.'
Instead he said, "No, you idiot, I got you a present!"
"You...got me a...?" Spot was surprised, and touched. He had stolen a card from the grocery store for Race, but thought it to be a bit much, so he had left it in his room under a pile of clothes. Now he wished he had brought it. His very best friend in the world bought him a Valentines present! Every time he began to wonder why he was in love with Race, the guy did something totally amazing and sweet.
Well, he corrected himself, he was only sixteen, and so it probably wasn't love, just a really nice crush that made him all tingly inside. Yeah, he just a major crush on his completely hot best friend. 'It's just this whole Valentines Day thing' he told himself, 'It's making me act like a total girl.'
Race stared at his best friend in confusion. The blond boy looked to be in deep thought. "Uh...Spot? Spot Conlon, you in there somewhere?"
"Huh? Oh, OH! You got me a present! Shit!" Race was even more confused when Spot began to go through his stuff. He made some sort of victorious noise when he found a pencil and paper, then began to write. Once he finished, he folded up the note and placed it in the still baffled boys hand.
Race unfolded the paper and read it over, before laughing loudly. It said, 'I.O.U. Love, S. Conlon'
Spot tapped his foot impatiently, though the effect was ruined by his smile. "Now, give me my present!"
"Okay, okay." Race shuffled around his room a bit, and Spot's smile became even larger as Race pulled a prettily wrapped package out from behind his bed. Honestly, Spot didn't know how anything could be found in that room. It was an absolute pigsty-but who cared, he was going to get a present!
It was wrapped in shiny red paper, and was shaped like a weird triangle. Spot looked up at Race-who gave a small affirmative nod-before tearing into it. Race was a horrible wrapper, so the paper came off easily, revealing a heart shaped box of chocolate covered cherries.
"I...you got me chocolate covered cherries?" Spot asked quietly, and Race was afraid he'd done something wrong until the blond cried, "These are my favorites! You're the best, Racey!" He threw his arms around Race in a hug.
They stayed in that position for a moment, until things got awkward, and both boys jumped away from the other. It was bit too perfect, in Spot's opinion, and a bit to uncomfortable in Race's. So Race simply glanced at his watch, his eyes widening at the time.
"Jesus, it's almost time for dinner. Come on, I'll cook something for us."
Spot batted his eyes. "And then the hot sex?"
"And then the hot sex," Race sighed. And promptly blushed; he hadn't meant to say that.
Spot, however, seemed overjoyed. After pumping a fist into the air, he sped out of Race's room, until he could hear the other boy running down the stairs. With a sigh, and a smile, Race followed suite.
The Higgins' kitchen was an Italian wonderland. At least that's how Spot saw it. Sometimes he was glad he knew Race just so he had an excuse to go over for some authentic Italian cooking. He may have been skinny, but he loved food.
"Hey, Spotty, turn on the radio so I don't have to listen to you while I cook."
'Spotty' scowled and did as asked. "Man," he said over the music, "you sure know how to kill the mood."
As Race pulled out some pots he called over his shoulder, "The mood was never alive to begin with, Spotty!"
Spot pouted. Racetrack could be so cold and cruel sometimes, and he didn't even care if he shot down his best friend. Spot was beginning to wonder once again why he loved that goofy little Italian so much.
As the radio played, spaghetti was made. The pasta was in the pot, and the sauce was being made by the youngest Higgins' himself. It was a fun business, watching him cook. He always did the cutest dances when the radio played, which looked even cuter as he threw in spices with gusto.
After throwing in a particularly large 'pinch' of garlic into the sauce, Race spun around and danced over to Spot, who sat at the kitchen table looking on in shock. Race lip-synced for a minute for bending down to kiss his best friend on the cheek. Spot, through his shock, managed to think, 'Oh yeah, that's why I love him.'
It didn't take long to make the spaghetti, and some garlic bread to go with it. It took an even shorter amount of time to eat it all. The boys laughed and joked around all during dinner. It wasn't exactly romantic, but it made Spot happy.
"You're the best valentine I've ever had."
Race grinned over at his friend. "You're supposed to say that after the hot sex."
Spot smiled sweetly. "I usually go for baby talk after the hot sex."
For a second, Race laughed, until he grew serious. They were back in his room, with Spot on the bed and himself in the doorway. It was a good time for saying stuff to each other. Like him finally admitting to himself and the other boy the crush he had been harboring for quite some time.
"Look, Spot, I need to talk to you."
Spot looked up, slightly panicked by the tone of Races voice. He sounded so serious...what if the sex joke were taking it to far? "Look, Racey, I'm sorry, we don't have to do the sex jokes anymore. I'll stop!"
"Spot."
"I mean, sure, it's fun, but even I admit the sex jokes are a little much."
"Spot."
"So it's all good, okay?" Spot nibbled at his bottom lip, nervous.
"SPOT!"
Spot looked up with a start, unaware Race had been trying to get his attention. "Yeah?"
"I..." He bit the inside of his cheek, unaware of what to say. 'Well, our teacher always says actions say it best, so here goes.' He crossed the room, pushed Spot down, and pressed their lips together. And then they were kissing.
Not one to deny a good thing, Spot kissed back. Their lips moved together, trying to find a rhythm, and Race was struck with thinking everything was perfect. The way Spot felt underneath him, the way he smelled like new shampoo, the way he tasted like cherries (he'd popped one in his mouth once he was done with dinner and gave one to Race to eliminate the garlic), and the way he looked when they separated-eyes half open and lips parted while he panted calmly.
"I like you." Race whispered.
"Well, this is the part where we have the comfort sex." Spot said trying to lighten the mood.
Race laughed, a breathy sound as he leaned down to ghost his lips over Spots. "Those chocolate covered cherries tasted good."
"You tasted good," Spot muttered. "Kiss me again!"
"Happy Valentines Day." And then Race kissed him.
~End~
Well, that's it. Review please, and make me happy.