Chapter Text
July 20, Higgins’ Residence
Spot wasn’t exactly sure how his life had landed him here. Here being the bedroom of one Edward Anthony Higgins on a summer day hot enough to fry an egg. But he wasn’t really complaining. There were worse places to find oneself than the bedroom of your lover on a too hot afternoon.
He watched quietly as Race changed the record on his player. Soft rock began to float through the room like the dust motes that danced in the sunlight. He could make out the lyrics if he focused, but otherwise it was just a pleasant white noise in the background.
Race stood back up, smiling fondly. Spot liked this Race best. This was the one that didn’t don armor against a world that seemed bent against him. This Race was soft, relaxed, in his worn out jeans and a soft blue tee shirt. It was hard to imagine this Race existing outside his sun soaked bedroom and out in the real world. It was this Race that Spot was maybe, just maybe, falling in love with. If he hadn’t already fallen that was.
“So,” Race started and then promptly trailed off as he sat down onto the bed. The mattress dipping under his and Spot’s weight. After the incident that was last night they had agreed to talk about the things that went beyond making sure the other was alright. So here they were, trying to talk about their feelings.
Neither of them were any good at it, but they were more than willing to try.
“So,” Spot prompted, leaning his head against Race’s shoulder. He smelled like soap and summer, and Spot never wanted to move again. He was pretty sure this was what being home was supposed to feel like.
“Are we dating, is that what this is?” Race had started to bounce his knee, he kept his gaze trained to the opposite wall, pointedly not looking at Spot. He wasn’t any better than Spot when it came to broaching these sort of things, it gave Spot a small sense of relief. They were in this together, missteps and all.
“Yeah, I’d really like to be your boyfriend if you’d have me.” His gut twisted and it took all of his willpower to not stare at Race. If he did he wasn’t sure what he would do. Something stupid probably. Race made him stupid in a lot of ways, but not all of them bad.
“I’ll have you for as long as you’ll have me.” Race finally turned to him, smile tentative and soft. All of his nerves melted away into the summer sunshine.
“Good.” Spot carefully took Race’s hand, linking their fingers together. He kept his focus on their joined hands. It was an interesting contrast. His own sun spotted and rough from days spent in the ocean where Race’s was pale and host to a dozen different nicks and cuts from working with engines day after day. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it felt like he might have been holding the entire universe in that one hand.
“Spot,” Race said quietly, pulling Spot from his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how long they had been just sitting there, holding hands and existing in the other’s space.
“Hmm?” He looked up. Race was staring at the wall again, jaw clenched anxiously.
“Are we going to tell any of them about us?” The question was impossibly quiet coming from Race, someone who didn’t really do the whole quiet thing. “I mean, JoJo knows, but that’s, different.”
His grip on Spot’s hand tightened enough to be more than just a reassurance. Spot felt himself tense, eyes prickling dangerously. He didn’t think he would ever stop having nightmares about that night no matter that things had turned out fine. His voice shook when he finally said, “I told Rafaela that night, after I thought maybe we were over with.”
Race reacted almost instantly, pulling Spot to his chest and tucking him under his chin.His own worries momentarily forgotten in favor of comforting Spot, a fact that made him press that much further into Race’s chest.
“Hey, it’s okay. I think we were both scared shitless, and for what it's worth I’m glad you had someone to talk to,” Race whispered into his hair, hand rubbing slow, continuous circles into his back.
Spot took a shaky breath. He hated feeling like this. Fragile. Breakable. Weak. It wasn’t who he was. Spot Conlon was brave and fearless. He protected his family and his heart with the ferocity of a lion. He didn’t break. He just didn’t. But maybe it was only fair that he broke down now. Maybe the proof of his bravery was being able to be vulnerable around those he cared for. And here in Race’s arms he felt pretty damn vulnerable.
He hadn’t realized his tears had fallen until he pulled back and saw the damp places on Race’s shirt. “Sorry, fuck. I was just so damn scared that I lost you that part of me still doesn’t believe that I haven’t.”
Race put a hand to Spot’s cheek, thumb rubbing away a stray tear. “You can’t get rid of me that easy. You’re stuck with me babe.”
Laughter burst from Spot, surprising and bright. Leave it to Race to alleviate things with a wisecrack, and have it actually work. “Thanks Race.”
“Anytime you need it, Spotty.” Race dropped a kiss into his hair.
They didn’t let go of each other for a long time. The record played to its end, tapering off into a tangible sort of quiet. Even the sun seemed to forget they were there, its golden light shifting before casting the room into a blue shadow from the tree outside Race’s window.
“Run away with me,” Race whispered, the words holy in his mouth.
Spot’s heart stuttered in his chest because he would. He would. He would do it without question and that was fucking terrifying. But instead all he said was, “I can’t.”
Because that was the reality of things. He couldn’t drop his life to live out a teenage fantasy with Race no matter how badly he wanted to. His friends, his family, needed him and he couldn’t leave them like that. Family that mattered didn’t do that.
“Just for the day then. We can run away for today.” Race kissed his temple. His forehead. His cheek. His jaw. All before kissing his lips.
And everything was soft, soft, soft.
“That I can do,” Spot replied, barely pulling far enough away to form the words.
They sank back into kissing as easily as breathing. They kissed until they were breathless, and then they kissed some more.
“Let’s go, before it gets dark,” Race murmured against his lips, already lifting himself and Spot off the bed.
The drowsiness of the afternoon slipped away as they quickly grabbed everything they would need. Race with his jacket and helmet, and Spot with a borrowed flannel overtop his faded tank top.
Anticipation was fizzing through Spot’s veins as they said their goodbyes to Race’s aunt. It reached its peak when Race pulled him out of the garage and over to the bike that was the envy of many.
“You have to ride behind me and hold on, but I don’t think you’ll mind that too much.” Race was grinning wildly as he mounted the motorcycle, his own excitement pouring off of him in waves.
Spot slipped on behind him, grinning just as bright. His arms wound around Race’s waist, while his cheek pressed to the patch covered shoulder of Race’s jacket. Contentment bubbled up in his chest like champagne when he realized he fit perfectly. He didn’t mind a single bit.
“All ready back there?” Race asked, voice slightly muffled by his helmet.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spot replied all too happily.
He had just barely gotten the words out when Race hit the gas and they took off down the summer streets like they had nothing left to lose. The sun bleached landscape blurred into a continuous stream of green, brown and yellow as they got farther and farther out of town. The buildings became fewer and farther between as Race drove them who knows where. But where they were going didn’t matter to Spot. He had Race solid and steady before him, and that’s all he could have possibly asked for.
Spot wasn’t sure how long they rode for, just that after enough time squinting into the sun he closed his eyes and left the destination to surprise him. He felt the bike slow to a stop before Race cut the engine.
“C’mon sleeping beauty we’re here.” Race patted his arms as Spot pried open his eyes. The sun was still bright, but they'd been on the road long enough that it was starting to dip towards the horizon.
“‘M not sleeping,” Spot grumbled, but he was already grinning, even as Race tried to push him off the bike. To which he only held on tighter before eventually letting go to take in the scenery.
It was absolutely beautiful. Race had brought them to a bluff that overlooked the ocean for miles and miles. Everything was shades of green and gold. Green grass, golden sun. The waves below were teal and the beach was more pink than tan in the dying light. The crash of the waves was barely audible, but it was there like a heartbeat in Spot’s ears.
It took his breath away.
“Race, this is-” But he couldn’t finish the thought, too enamoured by everything around him. “How’d you know about this place?”
“I used to come up here a lot, dunno why I stopped though.” Race came to stand next to Spot. “We could make it ours if you’d like.”
Spot looked first to the hand that was hanging just inches away from his own, then to the face of the boy it belonged to. Race was haloed in the fading light, curls turned to fire. “I think I’d like that a lot. Our own little piece of paradise.”
Race just smiled and laced their hands together.
The entire universe fell into place as they watched the sun set into the sea and the world was painted in watercolor.
“I wouldn't have pegged you as a romantic,” Race murmured once they had sat down to stare up at the stars slowly fading into view. He had his head in Spot's lap, face turned to the sky.
“That’s because you never asked,” Spot quipped softly, running a hand through Race’s already messed up curls. “If you do you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”
Race just blinked up at Spot, his eyes the same depthless blue as the sky above them. He could almost make out the faint stars reflected in them. Spot’s movements stilled when he felt a hand cup his jaw.
“Like what?” Race’s voice was still barely more than a whisper, and it was so different than the loud and boisterous version of Race that Spot had met all those months ago. The way his thumb was idly brushing over his cheek was different too, softer than they had been even a week previous. He never wanted to back from this.
Spot closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “I like sunsets, but sunrises are better because you have the whole day ahead of you. I can name almost all of the summer constellations. And I found a book of poetry at the library and fell in love with the medium, but if you tell anyone that they won’t believe you.”
“Ah yes, Mr Big Scary Reputation, who would ever believe you’re actually soft.” Race sat up as he spoke so he sitting cross legged, knees pressed to Spot’s. He still had a hand on Spot’s face and he was staring at Spot as though he’d hung the stars.
“You. Only you.” It felt like a confession. It was a confession in a way. Except Spot hadn’t realized just how true it was until he spoke it aloud. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was certain it was always going to be Race. It would only ever be Race. In a million moments just like this, it was always going to be Race there with him.
Edward Anthony Higgins was the love of his life and there was no denying it.
“I think I love you,” Race breathed out, eyes wide but unafraid.
“I think I love you, too,” Spot said, just as sure and soft. He watched as an errant tear slipped down Race’s cheek before he reached up and wiped it away.
They kissed again, slow and gentle and everything else they couldn’t say with words.
More stars began to wink into existence above them, a patchwork sky of blue and black and shining point of light. A blanket to keep them safe.
Race pulled back just far enough to look at Spot, and Spot looked right back and realized no one had ever looked at him the way Race did. No one had ever looked at him with that much love and adoration without a whisper of fear or caution. Race loved with everything he had and Spot was going to make sure he never let it go.