Work Text:
“Youse sure ‘bout this, Racer?” Spot knew he was hovering, knew he was being overly careful, but he couldn’t help himself. This was important. It was his and Race’s first time together, and it had to be right.
“Aw, come on Spotty, I ain’t no blushin’ virgin,” Race wisecracked. Spot’s movements stilled. He swallowed hard, glanced down, then looked back up at Race.
“How... how many? When....” His voice trailed off, hoarse and a little too desperate for his liking. This had never come up before, neither seeing any reason to talk about it, until now. It wasn’t a big deal, right? He’d had other partners too, and they’d only been together for 3 months. There was no reason Race wouldn’t have been with other people.
Still... he didn’t like the idea of his boyfriend with anyone but him. The thought conjured up unwelcome images in his mind, images that made him angry at anyone who had dared touch Race before he was his.
Race shrugged. “Was before we was together, obviouslys. None a the otha’s knew I was out, so’s I went to some bars. They was cheap, I was a sucka. I jus’ wanted ta be sure.”
Spot fiddled with the hem of the blanket, the only remaining barrier between their skin. He didn’t meet Race’s eyes. “And?”
Race sighed. “I went home wit’ 2 guys, 2 separate times, an’ I neva’ went back. It wasn’t nothin’ special. Jus’ told me what I already knew.”
Spot blinked. Only 2 guys. That wasn’t... that wasn’t bad, but it still didn’t make him feel right.
He almost jumped when Race took his hand.
“Hey, Spotty. C’mon. It’s no big deal. Youse been wit’ a few otha’ guys too, yea? We both had a few otha’ people ‘fore we found each other.” Race placed both of Spot’s hand on his bare shoulders, leaving his own hands on top. He brushed a kiss over Spot’s lips, before moving his lips to Spot’s collarbone.
“Tha’ difference is, I don’ want those guys.” His breath whispered along Spot’s neck and he slowly kissed a trail down toward his chest. Spot tipped his head back, a low moan forming in his throat.
“Race....”
“Spotty, ya didn’t let me finish.” Race moved his hands further down, letting Spot feel his way over Race’s exposed chest, his ribs, his stomach, stopping at his hips.
“I don’ want any o’ those otha’ guys, Conlon. Alls I want is you.”
At this admission, Spot groaned, hands and arms and legs moving frantically as he flipped the two of them over, moving on top of Race. “God, fuck, Racer.” Race only smirked and nipped lightly at the other boy’s neck, making his hips arch off the bed.
Now it was his turn to ask. “Youse sure ‘bout this, Spotty?”
His only answer was a strangled ‘fuck’ as the other boy fumbled for a packet left on the bedside table.
Race took this to mean, ‘fuck, yes.’ Or maybe, ‘fuck me.’ Either way, he obliged.
Afterwards, they lay together, tired and sweaty, but content. Spot let his head rest on the taller boy’s chest, strong arms encircling his waist. Race began to chuckle.
“What’s so funny, Racer?” Spot demanded.
His boyfriend only laughed harder, and Spot sat up in bed.
Race looked up at him with his trademark smirk, the one that meant he was gonna say something he thought was real smart.
“I was jus’ thinking, ya know. As it turns out, 3 really is tha’ charm, huh?”
He ended up with a face full of mattress as Spot tackled him into the bed. “Stop! Stop! I give!” He gasped out, still laughing.
After a minute, both settled down into each other’s arms again. Unseen by his partner, Spot smiled slightly into Race’s chest. Yeah. Three really was the charm.