A/N: I'm keeping this piece as a one-shot. I don't know why this Spot walked into my head and refused to leave, but I'd like to thank AngelicToxin for being such a great beta. Yes. That is Spot, I promise. -hides- In any case, enjoy!
Disclaimer: -disclaims- Still not mine.
Tony was staring at the clock. The time was two minutes past three, and it had been two past three for twenty… five seconds. Tony realized with a sigh that there were exactly fifty-seven minutes and thirty-five seconds left of detention.
Providing distraction from his clock-watching, a boy walked into the detention room. He was unlike all of the other boys Tony had seen in his life. His appearance was stunning enough (Tony swore that his younger sister owned jeans exactly like that- dark blue and flared), but the way he carried himself, the confidence that emanated from him, made Tony stare.
He did stare, open-mouthed even, as the newcomer walked (black flip-flops proving their namesake) down the row of desks and took a seat two over from where Tony sat. He dropped his mossy green messenger bag onto the floor and scanned the room.
Very nicely colored eyes, Tony noticed. The blue-grey worked well for the boy, and a glint of light declared the presence of an earring in his ear.
Before the boy had completed his survey of the room, the teacher's loud voice sounded from behind her desk.
"You're late Sean. Detention started four minutes ago," she accused. The boy- Sean, Tony noted- rolled his eyes.
"I was finishing a Calc test, Mrs. Jernigan. You know those things are killer."
Something in his tone made Tony sure that Sean was telling the truth. Even so, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows a bit at the comment. Being in Calculus meant that Sean was a bit of a genius, or older than he looked.
Suddenly Sean met Tony's curious gaze. For a moment, neither looked away, and while Tony was slightly wary of him, he refused to back down. He simply stared into Sean's eyes.
It was Sean that broke the contact first, bending down in a flurry of movement to grab his bag and retrieve from it a notebook and pen. When he did so, Tony caught sight of his nails. They were black, though he wasn't able to discern if this was from sharpie or polish.
Tony watched, hopelessly intrigued, as Sean re-clipped his hair out of his eyes, with a plastic red barrette, before picking up the pen. A moment or two later of methodical writing, and Sean tore out the page. Folding it in one deft move, he chanced a glance towards Mrs. Jernigan before standing up, reaching across the separating desks and handing it to a rather stunned Tony.
Tony took the note cautiously and opened it. The handwriting was neat, purple ink smeared just slightly along the single line of script.
Staring is rude. Would you mind stopping?
Tony could feel a red flush rising up his cheeks. He glanced swiftly back over at Sean, who smirked in a rather satisfied manner, before opening a paper-back book and beginning to read. Tony scrounged in his backpack for a pen and scrawled in untidy black ink, under Sean's message.
Sorry. I didn't mean to. So what are you in here for?
Once he was satisfied, Tony folded the note into a compact paper airplane, and launched it across the room with ease born of much practice and a bit of expert advice from his friend Ryan. His aim was true, enough so that it caught Sean's attention as the small jet crashed into his messenger bag.
Tony grinned as Sean quirked an eyebrow and retrieved the note. Reading it quickly, he raised his hand.
"Mrs. Jernigan, do you mind if I move over? The sun's bothering my eyes." He shaded his gaze with hand to emphasize his point, innocently. Mrs. Jernigan gave a curt nod. Sean hefted his bag over his shoulder and tucked his pen behind one ear, before making his way across the room. He settled himself in the seat beside Tony and having done so, replied.
I could ask you the same thing, but it's none of my business. What's your name?
Tony glanced at Mrs. Jernigan before uncapping his pen.
Maybe. But I'll tell you anyway. I skipped third period and started a poker game in the library. My name is Tony, but people call me Race.
As he passed the note back to Sean, Tony wondered why he was taking such an interesting the strange boy. Apparently Sean was wondering something along the same lines.
Are you always so friendly? Or do you just want to screw me?
Tony bit his lip as he read the reply. What could he say to that? More accurately, could he even trust himself with the correct answer? Tony opted for a question to answer a question.
Are you always so paranoid?
Tony saw Sean's smile falter as he scanned the paper. He didn't have the chance to reply though, because at that moment a dark shadow fell between their desks.
"Give me the note, Sean," Mrs. Jernigan ordered. "You know the rules."
Grudgingly, Sean handed her the paper. She gave them both a withering stare before returning to her desk. Sean looked at Tony, before glancing at the clock. He then opened up his novel and began to read, not a single movement betraying his emotions. Tony glanced up at the clock himself. Just half-past three. He had twenty-eight minutes of detention left.
Tony wasted the remaining time attempting his math homework. He had completely given up on it though, when Mrs. Jernigan dismissed the room. Sean made it out of the door ahead of him, in the stampede of seven or eight other delinquents.
Tony stepped into the hallway and caught sight of him, standing off to the side with one hand resting casually on his hip.
"I'm always a bit paranoid, Racey," he said with a small smile, once he saw Tony. "I can't afford not to be."
With no further explanation, Sean turned and walked away, his shoes flip-flopping softly down the hallway.
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Tony could not get Sean off of his mind. How long had Sean been as… flamboyant… as he was? What had he meant about not being able to afford not being paranoid? What had happened to him?
There was something about Sean that intrigued him, a curiosity that consumed him. Tony saw that there was something hidden underneath the mannerisms and outfits. He could tell that there was more to Sean. And he was determined to discover it- no matter what it took.
Tony had begun to question his own sexuality at the beginning of the last school year. It was that year, when he was a sophomore, that Ryan and Micah had begun dating. While the majority of the school gave them grief about it, Tony had never before seen any two people so dedicated to and compatible with one another. It was envy of his friend's relationship that got him thinking.
Of course, he denied the conclusion that he had come to. Homosexuality was simply not an option. His dad wouldn't understand, his sister would freak out, and his mother would probably turn over in her grave. His reputation would be shot. No one would see him the same way. There was no possible way that Tony could be gay. His confidence was shattered.
Then there was Sean, who was brimming to the point of over-flowing with the very confidence that he himself lacked. How could Tony not admire him? How could he not envy him? Did that mean that he was attracted to him?
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There was something lucky about Tuesdays. Tony had always considered Tuesday his favorite day of the week and even more so when he walked into detention to find a substitute teacher. It was, in fact, Tony's favorite substitute.
When Sean walked in promptly at two past three, again (decked out similarly to the previous day- the green eye-shadow, white wife-beater and silver and green striped tie being the most noteworthy differences), he sat down next to Tony, and fumbled in his bag for his novel, without saying a word. Tony noticed that his fingernails were back to their normal color as he did so, and grinned.
"Don't bother," he said. "No matter what we do, this sub isn't going to stop us. He won't say a word all period." Sean looked skeptical. As he inclined his head a bit of glitter fell to the floor.
"Seriously, he never says a word- not even his name. We can do whatever."
"Sweet," Sean smiled genuinely. He dug in his bag for a moment, before producing a bottle of purple nail polish. Tony raised an eyebrow as Sean unscrewed the cap and began methodically to paint the nails of his left hand.
"So why are you still being nice to me?" Sean finally asked after a moment. Tony stared, slightly offended.
"Am I not allowed to be friendly?" he asked indignantly. "Is it so wrong?"
"No no no," Sean said, pausing in his painting and clearly worried that he had angered Tony. "That's not it at all, Racey. I mean, you're kinda cute, but it's just that you're being so nice that's making me suspicious, ya know?"
Tony shook his head, and Sean moved on to painting his right hand, as he explained.
"How many guys do you see hanging out with people like me? Honestly? There are very few people at this school who don't care if they're seen with me. Then there are the people who don't care if I'm alive. It's not that I don't like talking to you, but I'm just trying to look out for myself."
"…Oh," Tony finally managed. He began to scratch at his desk with a pencil.
"Why are you so interested in me?" Sean asked, lips twisting into an impish smile. "What's your story?"
"My story?" Tony repeated, unsure of what he was being asked. Sean gestured vaguely.
"Your story. Tell me about yourself," he clarified. "Like, where'd you pick up the name 'Race'?" Tony shrugged, glancing around the room. Few of the kids that were supposed to be in detention were actually there due to the appearance of the substitute.
"My friends, forever ago. I have a knack for gambling, you know? Horse races and stuff."
Sean went back to add another layer of polish to his left hand and suddenly asked another question.
"So when did you realize you were gay?"
Tony gaped.
"I, uh…I'm- it's-" he stuttered, going red.
"Don't deny it, hon. Seriously, the closet? Been there, done that; it's not a fun place to live," Sean pointed out. Tony shifted uncomfortably, resuming his doodles. That was certainly not the way he had expected this conversation to go.
"I'm not- It's complicated. My friends don't mind, but you don't know my family."
"I don't claim to," Sean countered fairly. "But then, they won't really know you, until you tell them."
Tony tried- and failed- to come up with a good argument against that. He leaned back, frustrated that his situation, problem and solution, had been summed up so simply. It quite irked him that Sean made such a fair point.
"You suck." Tony pointed out, finally. Sean winked.
"Whenever I can," he said suggestively. Tony rolled his eyes, making a face and trying his best to let his gestures cover up how inherently uneasy Sean's comment made him.
Perhaps the other boy caught wind of his unsettledness, or perhaps not, but either way, when Sean spoke again, minutes later, his tone was entirely different. Sean had a habit of switching gears when Tony least expected it.
"Not everybody is friendly, Racey. Sometimes you've gotta look out for yourself and let everyone else hit the dust."
"You don't have to go through life alone though," Tony said quietly. Sean smiled.
"Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean everyone's out to get me?" he asked. "Gee, wish someone had told me that one before."
The duo lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Tony began to erase the scribbles he had made on the desk as Sean examined his hands.
"So- oh fuck!" Sean had managed to smudge the still drying nail polish of his index finger. He pouted as he surveyed the damage. Tony laughed at him, before taking Sean's silent distraction to his advantage.
"Look, the reason I was so nosy is because I think I might really kind of like you." Tony took a deep breath as the words finally tumbled from his mouth.
"No kidding?" Sean asked sarcastically, a grin adorning his features. "That much was obvious."
"I-"
"Hey." A third voice entered their conversation, and both Sean and Tony turned to find that the substitute was speaking to them.
"I hate to break up this little make-love, but I get to leave when all the kids are gone. You guys are the only ones still here…" he trailed off meaningfully. Sean nodded.
"Right." Tony stood as Sean slipped his nail polish back into his bag. The substitute motioned for them to get out, and locked the door behind them before leaving. Tony scuffed his feet, looking down the hallway at the substitute's receding figure. He jumped when Sean suddenly grabbed his hand.
"Racey, I'd love to chat, but I'd better go while the going's good. Give me a ring sometime." As he spoke, Sean wrote a seven digit number on Tony's hand.
"Alright," Tony agreed, his heart lifting.
"Toodles." Before he went, Sean tilted up his chin and pressed a light kiss to Tony's cheek. Tony felt a surge of warmth flow to his face as he watched Sean go.
Flip-flop. Flip-flop.
There walked an enigma of a boy. Tony had his number.