Work Text:
The classroom was quiet save for the sound of scratching on paper and Spot looked up from his homework.
Tongue sticking out in concentration, Race was working on something but when Spot leaned over, he received the end of the pencil smacking on his forehead. Spot rolled his eyes with a hint of a smile, knowing he’d be able to get to see it later anyway.
When it came to his art, Race never showed his progress. It was either a blank page or a finished project that Spot got to see, but at the very least, he could watch Race’s face when he drew.
With a hand pressed against his forehead, elbow propped on the desk, Spot tried to focus on his schoolwork as Race sketched away. He’d glance up at Spot every so often, yet any time Spot tried to look at Race, he had his nose hovering just above the paper.
“There,” Race announced and held up his sketch to Spot, beaming.
Spot was staring at a reflection of himself as if Race had propped up a mirror. Somehow in simple graphite, Race had caught every stray beam of light, the mess of hair on Spot’s head, even down to the mole he hadn’t paid much attention to until the day Race had kissed it for the first time.
The picture was everything Spot wished he could be and he swallowed, his fingers beginning to drum on the desk.
“It’s nice, Race. Real nice,” his voice cracked a bit and Spot ducked his head to hide his reddening cheeks.
With the shuffling of papers, Spot dared to look up, watching as Race tucked the sketch away into one of his folders.
“Saving it for a rainy day,” he winked at Spot, then at long last scooting his desk over until it met Spot’s.
Leaning in, Race stopped just before Spot’s face, their breaths mingling with the silence until the gap was closed. Spot eagerly pushed into the kiss and then the bell rang. Breaking apart, Race scowled as he moved his desk back to where it was before, the two sharing a smile before students filtered into the room.
“So this is where you two were during lunch,” Blink fell into his seat in front of Race, waggling his eyebrows at Spot.
“Just ‘cause you and Mush didn’t think of it first, no need to tease us about it,” Spot laughed as Blink threw a piece of paper at him.
With Mush’s arrival, the conversation shifted, the four boys discussing nothing and everything until the class began. As the teacher started, Spot glanced over at Race, biting on his lip when he saw Race sketching in the margins of his notes. Noting the familiar starting lines, Spot straightened himself up, hoping he was hitting the sunlight as before. Even with the lesson dragging out, Spot held himself at attention, eager to see what drawings awaited him after class was over.