A.N: surprise surprise..
Spot pressed the send button and sat back, sighing. Sure, the surveys were a load of fun to send, and even fill out, but Racetrack's had made him sort of..sad. Specs and Skittery had no problem saying they were in love in THEIR surveys.
The stupid survey questions and Race's answers filled his mind:
[Do you believe in love:] mAybeEeE
[Do you believe in soul mates]: mAybEeEe..
[Do you believe in love at first sight]: mAAAAAAAAAAAybEeEeEe
[What's something you wish you could understand better]: love.
What the hell did that all mean?? Didn't Race love him? And then what the hell was up with the rest of his answers?!?!?!?!
Let's say your dad came in your room one day and told you that you had to get married in the next week, and you can pick the person, but you have to stay with them for the rest of your life, no getting out of it, who would you pick?
..::BLUSHES!!!:::
What is the thing you care about most in your life?
mOneY.I's tInk.
40. If you could design your perfect mate what would he/she look like and be like? ...I's tInk I's already found 'im =X..
Do you want to get married: ....
Spot sighed again. Why did that jackass boyfriend of his have to be so mysterious????? He was acting like a friggin girl..
"Spot?" Racetrack's voice drifted from the couch. Their small apartment consisted of three rooms- a living room/dining room, a kitchen and a bedroom. The computer was in the dining room part of the shared room, the couch with the TV/DVD player stood about three feet away. He knew he shouldn't be so disheartened about what Racetrack said- what he DIDN'T say- but damnit they were LIVING together and there was a REASON there was only one bedroom in that damn apartment!! And yeah they were getting a dog apparently!!! And Spot thought he loved him..
"Spot?"
This time the voice came from right in back of him, startling Spot out of his bitter thoughts. Hard hands starting massaging his shoulders gently, rubbing them with a tenderness most people didn't know he possessed. Spot leaned into the touch, resting his head against the strong arms. He closed his eyes and Race sweetly kissed the top of his soft brownish-blond hair.
"What were you doing Beloved?" Racetrack asked quietly, his words muffled by Spot's hair. Spot frowned sadly at the nickname Race had given him. Beloved. Did he MEAN that?...
"I was just fillin' out dat survey Specs started, you knows dat. You was sittin' right hea' while I was fillin' out most of it." Although Spot had been living in Manhattan for three years, he couldn't seem to get rid of his Brooklyn accent.
Racetrack laughed, softly breathing into Spot's hair, causing shivers of delight to crawl up his spine. "I didn't know it would take you this long- only took me fifteen minutes."
Spot turned to look up into his sweetheart's boyish face (the usual cigar gone for the moment) and made a face. "I din' know dis was a race, Race!" he said, reluctantly pulling away from Race's warm arms. He was slightly pleased to see disappointment cross Racetrack's coffee eyes.
Race sighed and sat on the chair next to Spot's. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"
Spot glared at Racetrack, annoyed that he knew him so well.
"Nothin."
"Liar."
Glare.
"College?"
Glare.
"Step dancing?"
Deeper glare.
"Job hunt?"
If looks could kill..
"Well what then?" asked Racetrack, exasperatedly slapping his jeans in frustration. He HATED when Spot did this to him!
"Not like you'd care," Spot muttered angrily, pushing himself off the computer chair and walking to the couch. He threw himself into the corner of the couch, wedging himself between a big Mets pillow and a fluffy purple blanket. He scowled at the blank TV, lost in his own thoughts. He didn't realize Race had come to sit right next to him until he heard him speak.
"I wish you'd tell me," said Race in a soft voice that made Spot look at him. "Because I really do care. A lot."
Spot's anger was steadily rising. He knew he shouldn't be angry that Race didn't love him, but it felt like a dead end. He had thought there was a real ending with Racetrack but he was acting like Bumlets when they were dating! That's the whole reason he had dumped him- because he believed there was no such thing as love and he just wanted the sex. Was that all he was to Racetrack? A.A SEX TOY?
"No youse don'. Stop pretendin' like youse do- its unbecommin'," said Spot, somewhat sarcastically, his blue eyes flashing.
Racetrack knew that look. He knew it very well, seeing it every few months. He wanted to back away from Spot, he really did, but knew that something really big was bothering his boyfriend...and he would never forgive himself if he didn't find out what it was.
"Please, Spot," said Race, putting a hand on Spot's knee. "I'm not pretending to care, I really care. A lot."
Spot made a noise of disgust and turned away. Which was all very well. Racetrack would sit there all night until he told him what was wrong.
A few minutes of tense silence passed, only the Manhattan sounds breaking the thick hush that had fallen over the room.
"Race?"
Racetrack started- he had been in his own world of worried thoughts. And really, he had expected Spot to keep quiet for another hour at least.
"What Beloved?"
"Do you...Do youse believe in love?"
Race's eyes widened. Spot wasn't looking at him- instead he was playing with the edges of the purple blanket, making them fray. All for the best because Race wasn't sure WHAT expression was on his face.
"Whe...where did that question come from, Spot?" Racetrack finally managed to squeak out.
"Da survey."
Racetrack pulled his eyebrows together. He KNEW he should've answered those damn questions! Or deleted them...
"Uhh."
"Do youse love me?"
See now THAT was out of no where!
Racetrack stayed silent for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to say.
Unfortunately, it was a few minutes too long.
"I knew it!" said Spot, pushing Racetrack's hand off his knee and standing. "I KNEW you was just playin' wit me! I'm juss anotha ona youse sex toys am I? NO! Not again I won't be! I WON'T!!"
Spot ran from the living room to the back of the apartment where they shared the bedroom. Racetrack flinched as the door slammed shut. Silence once again enveloped the house, bearing down on Racetrack. He mutely took out a cigar and lit it, breathing in the tobacco.
How could Spot think he was just using him for sex? They hadn't even started sharing a bed until their six-month anniversary! So what was the first six months? Nothing?
But...if it wasn't about the sex then could Race...could he actually be in love with Spot?
* * * * * * * * * * *
Spot lay on the bed, his head buried in his pillow, trying to block the tears that were forcing their way through. He thought that Race was "the one" the special person he would spend the rest of his life with. How could he have been so stupid?
Laying his head on the pillow, he looked next to him at a framed picture of the two of them. His eyes misted at the memory.
It had been Spot's nineteenth birthday and they had been dating for seven months. Racetrack surprised him with tickets to see Riverdance on Broadway. Afterwards they had walked through Manhattan, through the village and the park...they rode the carrousel at Bryant Park, Spot taking a chocolate and strawberry colored horse, Racetrack taking a blue gray one. They sat next to each other and, as it was dark and not many people were around, held hands. Their eyes hadn't left each other's during the entire ride, bouncing up and down, up and down, coffee on sapphire. At the end of the ride Racetrack leaned in and kissed Spot on the lips sweetly and a stranger had snapped a picture of it.
Spot sniffed again, his lips pulled down in a hard frown. He felt his lip trembling and hugged himself, shivering. So this was heartbreak. All because of that friggin survey. I'm gonna SOAK Specs for this! He thought violently, wiping his eyes brutally.
The door slowly opened and Spot tried to clear his tears. Refusing to look at it, he stared at the wall.
The bed sank with the weight of another person. Spot still refused to look.
"Spot?" Spot grunted to let Racetrack know he was listening.
"Can you look at me?" NO
But he did.
And he saw tears on Racetrack's cheeks as well.
Oh my god, he DOESN'T love me...he's come to break it off...
"I.I didn't know if I loved you because I didn't know what love was. But then you ran out of the room and I was sitting there on the couch...I thought about not living with you...not seeing you everyday, hearing your thoughts, sitting, watching movies together, hearing you breathe at night, listening to you practice dancing, smelling your coconut spray, getting glitter all over my things...and I realized I CAN'T live without any of that. Spot, I can't live without you." Racetrack's voice cracked and tears were dripping off his face, onto his shirt.
Spot stared at him, open mouthed. No way...
"Spot.I." Racetrack fought to control his voice.
"I love you."
The next thing either of them knew, Spot had his arms around Racetrack, holding him close, breathing in the smell of his soap and cigar. He pulled away so he could see Racetrack's face, and he smiled. Racetrack looked happier than he ever had.
"I love you too Racey," said Spot. He cut off Racetrack's response with his lips.
There have been so many kisses throughout the world, but none was as great or loving as that one.
They finally stopped to stare at the other, to stare at the face of the one they knew they loved. No words were needed anymore.
Racetrack's smile suddenly turned mischievous. "So does this mean we're getting a dog tomorrow, Spotty?"
Spot rolled his eyes and laughed.
"Shut up and come to bed, my love."
"My life."
A.N: o.O this was my FIRST EVER slash scene!! ::muses half-heartedly applaud, except for Spot who boos:: Well that's not a surprise...Agh I hope you guys'll still read my fiction even though she wasn't that good!! EEEK PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME I NEED YOU ALL!!! And just to prove it, here are the shout outs!
Chicago: Ahhhh you really like it!! Aww you're too sweet in your reviews, they make me smile like you have no frickin idea lmao.
::Mush!Muse comes up to Chicago and gives her a flower::
thank you!
Inquisitive: YAY you like this!! And yes, I was just as happy as Race to learn he was getting a dog lol. ::Race!Muse applauds::
Shot Hunter: I'm glad you started to review =) and it's even better that you LIKE it lol. I HOPE YOU LIKE THE SPOT/RACE SCENE AHHH If you don't...uh...pretend you do and Mush'll give YOU a flower too!!
Nakaia Aidan-Sun: Dude, fanfiction wouldn't let ME sign in either, isn't that strange? Spot!Muse: METS RULE AHHH
::pushes spot:: please don't mind him, he's one of those VIOLENT Mets fans. Don't worry all the major Newsies'll get their turns to fill out one of those delectable surveys...and even the non-major newsies...
Swifty!Muse: She means us guys.
Snoddy!Muse: BAHH I AM MAJOR!!
Alarice: NOBODY KNOWS WHO YOU ARE!!
Snoddy!Muse: One day they will...and one day they'll all be sorry they ignored me!!
Swifty!Muse: ::rolls eyes::
Bumlets!Muse: ::dances into the scene, smacks Swifty across the head and dances out::
Alarice: GAHHHH YOU GUYS STAY OUT OF THE SHOUT OUTS!
Shadowlands: I know, I wasn't going to make them all gay or even bisexual but I wanted them all to be with somebody and I'm not particularly fond of writing female characters in so wala, they're all gay! Hehe, I'm glad you enjoy it...
Spot!Muse: ::singing:: MY HEART WILLLL GO ONNNN AND ONNNNN
Racetrack!Muse:: LOSE YOURSELF IN THE MUSIC THE MOMENT YOU WANT IT YOU BETTA NEVA LET IT GO!!!
Spot!Muse: AHHHHHHHH
Liams Kitten: Dude your muses are CRAZY what are they doing in the review?!?!?! WHY ARE THEY THERE?! Lmao at Dutchy though...dance puppet dance aha psycho THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEW THOUGH you are GREAT!!!!!!!!
Spot pressed the send button and sat back, sighing. Sure, the surveys were a load of fun to send, and even fill out, but Racetrack's had made him sort of..sad. Specs and Skittery had no problem saying they were in love in THEIR surveys.
The stupid survey questions and Race's answers filled his mind:
[Do you believe in love:] mAybeEeE
[Do you believe in soul mates]: mAybEeEe..
[Do you believe in love at first sight]: mAAAAAAAAAAAybEeEeEe
[What's something you wish you could understand better]: love.
What the hell did that all mean?? Didn't Race love him? And then what the hell was up with the rest of his answers?!?!?!?!
Let's say your dad came in your room one day and told you that you had to get married in the next week, and you can pick the person, but you have to stay with them for the rest of your life, no getting out of it, who would you pick?
..::BLUSHES!!!:::
What is the thing you care about most in your life?
mOneY.I's tInk.
40. If you could design your perfect mate what would he/she look like and be like? ...I's tInk I's already found 'im =X..
Do you want to get married: ....
Spot sighed again. Why did that jackass boyfriend of his have to be so mysterious????? He was acting like a friggin girl..
"Spot?" Racetrack's voice drifted from the couch. Their small apartment consisted of three rooms- a living room/dining room, a kitchen and a bedroom. The computer was in the dining room part of the shared room, the couch with the TV/DVD player stood about three feet away. He knew he shouldn't be so disheartened about what Racetrack said- what he DIDN'T say- but damnit they were LIVING together and there was a REASON there was only one bedroom in that damn apartment!! And yeah they were getting a dog apparently!!! And Spot thought he loved him..
"Spot?"
This time the voice came from right in back of him, startling Spot out of his bitter thoughts. Hard hands starting massaging his shoulders gently, rubbing them with a tenderness most people didn't know he possessed. Spot leaned into the touch, resting his head against the strong arms. He closed his eyes and Race sweetly kissed the top of his soft brownish-blond hair.
"What were you doing Beloved?" Racetrack asked quietly, his words muffled by Spot's hair. Spot frowned sadly at the nickname Race had given him. Beloved. Did he MEAN that?...
"I was just fillin' out dat survey Specs started, you knows dat. You was sittin' right hea' while I was fillin' out most of it." Although Spot had been living in Manhattan for three years, he couldn't seem to get rid of his Brooklyn accent.
Racetrack laughed, softly breathing into Spot's hair, causing shivers of delight to crawl up his spine. "I didn't know it would take you this long- only took me fifteen minutes."
Spot turned to look up into his sweetheart's boyish face (the usual cigar gone for the moment) and made a face. "I din' know dis was a race, Race!" he said, reluctantly pulling away from Race's warm arms. He was slightly pleased to see disappointment cross Racetrack's coffee eyes.
Race sighed and sat on the chair next to Spot's. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"
Spot glared at Racetrack, annoyed that he knew him so well.
"Nothin."
"Liar."
Glare.
"College?"
Glare.
"Step dancing?"
Deeper glare.
"Job hunt?"
If looks could kill..
"Well what then?" asked Racetrack, exasperatedly slapping his jeans in frustration. He HATED when Spot did this to him!
"Not like you'd care," Spot muttered angrily, pushing himself off the computer chair and walking to the couch. He threw himself into the corner of the couch, wedging himself between a big Mets pillow and a fluffy purple blanket. He scowled at the blank TV, lost in his own thoughts. He didn't realize Race had come to sit right next to him until he heard him speak.
"I wish you'd tell me," said Race in a soft voice that made Spot look at him. "Because I really do care. A lot."
Spot's anger was steadily rising. He knew he shouldn't be angry that Race didn't love him, but it felt like a dead end. He had thought there was a real ending with Racetrack but he was acting like Bumlets when they were dating! That's the whole reason he had dumped him- because he believed there was no such thing as love and he just wanted the sex. Was that all he was to Racetrack? A.A SEX TOY?
"No youse don'. Stop pretendin' like youse do- its unbecommin'," said Spot, somewhat sarcastically, his blue eyes flashing.
Racetrack knew that look. He knew it very well, seeing it every few months. He wanted to back away from Spot, he really did, but knew that something really big was bothering his boyfriend...and he would never forgive himself if he didn't find out what it was.
"Please, Spot," said Race, putting a hand on Spot's knee. "I'm not pretending to care, I really care. A lot."
Spot made a noise of disgust and turned away. Which was all very well. Racetrack would sit there all night until he told him what was wrong.
A few minutes of tense silence passed, only the Manhattan sounds breaking the thick hush that had fallen over the room.
"Race?"
Racetrack started- he had been in his own world of worried thoughts. And really, he had expected Spot to keep quiet for another hour at least.
"What Beloved?"
"Do you...Do youse believe in love?"
Race's eyes widened. Spot wasn't looking at him- instead he was playing with the edges of the purple blanket, making them fray. All for the best because Race wasn't sure WHAT expression was on his face.
"Whe...where did that question come from, Spot?" Racetrack finally managed to squeak out.
"Da survey."
Racetrack pulled his eyebrows together. He KNEW he should've answered those damn questions! Or deleted them...
"Uhh."
"Do youse love me?"
See now THAT was out of no where!
Racetrack stayed silent for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to say.
Unfortunately, it was a few minutes too long.
"I knew it!" said Spot, pushing Racetrack's hand off his knee and standing. "I KNEW you was just playin' wit me! I'm juss anotha ona youse sex toys am I? NO! Not again I won't be! I WON'T!!"
Spot ran from the living room to the back of the apartment where they shared the bedroom. Racetrack flinched as the door slammed shut. Silence once again enveloped the house, bearing down on Racetrack. He mutely took out a cigar and lit it, breathing in the tobacco.
How could Spot think he was just using him for sex? They hadn't even started sharing a bed until their six-month anniversary! So what was the first six months? Nothing?
But...if it wasn't about the sex then could Race...could he actually be in love with Spot?
* * * * * * * * * * *
Spot lay on the bed, his head buried in his pillow, trying to block the tears that were forcing their way through. He thought that Race was "the one" the special person he would spend the rest of his life with. How could he have been so stupid?
Laying his head on the pillow, he looked next to him at a framed picture of the two of them. His eyes misted at the memory.
It had been Spot's nineteenth birthday and they had been dating for seven months. Racetrack surprised him with tickets to see Riverdance on Broadway. Afterwards they had walked through Manhattan, through the village and the park...they rode the carrousel at Bryant Park, Spot taking a chocolate and strawberry colored horse, Racetrack taking a blue gray one. They sat next to each other and, as it was dark and not many people were around, held hands. Their eyes hadn't left each other's during the entire ride, bouncing up and down, up and down, coffee on sapphire. At the end of the ride Racetrack leaned in and kissed Spot on the lips sweetly and a stranger had snapped a picture of it.
Spot sniffed again, his lips pulled down in a hard frown. He felt his lip trembling and hugged himself, shivering. So this was heartbreak. All because of that friggin survey. I'm gonna SOAK Specs for this! He thought violently, wiping his eyes brutally.
The door slowly opened and Spot tried to clear his tears. Refusing to look at it, he stared at the wall.
The bed sank with the weight of another person. Spot still refused to look.
"Spot?" Spot grunted to let Racetrack know he was listening.
"Can you look at me?" NO
But he did.
And he saw tears on Racetrack's cheeks as well.
Oh my god, he DOESN'T love me...he's come to break it off...
"I.I didn't know if I loved you because I didn't know what love was. But then you ran out of the room and I was sitting there on the couch...I thought about not living with you...not seeing you everyday, hearing your thoughts, sitting, watching movies together, hearing you breathe at night, listening to you practice dancing, smelling your coconut spray, getting glitter all over my things...and I realized I CAN'T live without any of that. Spot, I can't live without you." Racetrack's voice cracked and tears were dripping off his face, onto his shirt.
Spot stared at him, open mouthed. No way...
"Spot.I." Racetrack fought to control his voice.
"I love you."
The next thing either of them knew, Spot had his arms around Racetrack, holding him close, breathing in the smell of his soap and cigar. He pulled away so he could see Racetrack's face, and he smiled. Racetrack looked happier than he ever had.
"I love you too Racey," said Spot. He cut off Racetrack's response with his lips.
There have been so many kisses throughout the world, but none was as great or loving as that one.
They finally stopped to stare at the other, to stare at the face of the one they knew they loved. No words were needed anymore.
Racetrack's smile suddenly turned mischievous. "So does this mean we're getting a dog tomorrow, Spotty?"
Spot rolled his eyes and laughed.
"Shut up and come to bed, my love."
"My life."
A.N: o.O this was my FIRST EVER slash scene!! ::muses half-heartedly applaud, except for Spot who boos:: Well that's not a surprise...Agh I hope you guys'll still read my fiction even though she wasn't that good!! EEEK PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME I NEED YOU ALL!!! And just to prove it, here are the shout outs!
Chicago: Ahhhh you really like it!! Aww you're too sweet in your reviews, they make me smile like you have no frickin idea lmao.
::Mush!Muse comes up to Chicago and gives her a flower::
thank you!
Inquisitive: YAY you like this!! And yes, I was just as happy as Race to learn he was getting a dog lol. ::Race!Muse applauds::
Shot Hunter: I'm glad you started to review =) and it's even better that you LIKE it lol. I HOPE YOU LIKE THE SPOT/RACE SCENE AHHH If you don't...uh...pretend you do and Mush'll give YOU a flower too!!
Nakaia Aidan-Sun: Dude, fanfiction wouldn't let ME sign in either, isn't that strange? Spot!Muse: METS RULE AHHH
::pushes spot:: please don't mind him, he's one of those VIOLENT Mets fans. Don't worry all the major Newsies'll get their turns to fill out one of those delectable surveys...and even the non-major newsies...
Swifty!Muse: She means us guys.
Snoddy!Muse: BAHH I AM MAJOR!!
Alarice: NOBODY KNOWS WHO YOU ARE!!
Snoddy!Muse: One day they will...and one day they'll all be sorry they ignored me!!
Swifty!Muse: ::rolls eyes::
Bumlets!Muse: ::dances into the scene, smacks Swifty across the head and dances out::
Alarice: GAHHHH YOU GUYS STAY OUT OF THE SHOUT OUTS!
Shadowlands: I know, I wasn't going to make them all gay or even bisexual but I wanted them all to be with somebody and I'm not particularly fond of writing female characters in so wala, they're all gay! Hehe, I'm glad you enjoy it...
Spot!Muse: ::singing:: MY HEART WILLLL GO ONNNN AND ONNNNN
Racetrack!Muse:: LOSE YOURSELF IN THE MUSIC THE MOMENT YOU WANT IT YOU BETTA NEVA LET IT GO!!!
Spot!Muse: AHHHHHHHH
Liams Kitten: Dude your muses are CRAZY what are they doing in the review?!?!?! WHY ARE THEY THERE?! Lmao at Dutchy though...dance puppet dance aha psycho THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEW THOUGH you are GREAT!!!!!!!!