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chaosfairy18 · 6 days ago

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Could you do a fic that’s an enemies to lovers with sprace please

Thank you!

(つ°ヮ°)つ

I absolutely can. That frick ass keyboard emoji has me in tears, btw 😭 (if you want to read this as livesies characters, just skip over the descriptions because it can be read as both 🙃)

Tw: curse words, mild violence

Passion (oneshot)

January 7th 1997

It was like any other day. The sun was bashfully hiding behind the clouds, the cool yet fierce breeze streamed through the air and hit the bare neck of Racetrack Higgins. It sent goosebumps jumping all over his pale skin, he shivered, yet it did not shake the easy smile embedded into his cheeks. It was that easy smile that eased people. Most seemed to enjoy seeing the seemingly kind gesture perminantly written across his. It made people relax, trusting and open. That was dangerous in the newsie world, you should never let your guard down for anyone was the first thing you learnt, however the corners of that smile seemed to find a way to pry open any locked doors. That smile was dangerous.

Racetrack had taken his usual route to sheepshed by using his witty charm to aquire a ride in the back of a wagon. He hopped off the wagon and ran a hand through his thick,dark hair, messy from the wind, and waltzed to the door, pulling out a cigar and placed it between his lips. He wasn't sure why he could feel eyes on the back of his head.

"Mornin' Betty." Race said, tipping his hat, to the middle-aged betting woman sitting at the front desk.

"Morning Racetrack, keeping out of trouble, I hope." She added, noticing Races cigar, which was far more money than he had ever made.

"Youse knows me Betty, neva lookin' for trouble." He replied, taking it out of his mouth.

"What's the headline today?" The older woman asked, clearly amused by the young boy.

"Tragdey strikes, house fire in Queens kills entire family." His voice sounded sympathetic, but the glint in his eyes told a different story. She shook her head and flicked him a nickel.

"For my best and prettiest customer." He handed her the newspaper, flashing her that easy smile. She blushed and quickly buried her nose in it, trying to hide her reddening face.

"See ya later, miss." Race called smugly, walking into the arena.

The interaction was completely normal, so why did Race feel so awkward. There was something in the air following him, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

That feeling never quite went away. He sold his papes as normal, hawking the headline the best he could to attract buyers. Making sure to be extra charming to the richer boxes. It was an average day, so why couldn't he stop glancing over his shoulder every time he had a second spare.

He had sold out of papers by just before dinner when that presence stopped him in his tracks. He was halfway to brooklyn Bridge when that feeling had taken over his body and forced him to a halt.

"What do youse think youse doin'." A cold voice came from behind him. He turned to be greeted by a pale, scrawny boy about three inches taller than he was and dirty blonde hair barely peaking from behind his cap. Race didn't notice this, though, because he was focused on the eyes. They were a pale blue with a gaze so sharp that it could cut him in half. They peirced into his soul and put a funny feeling in his stomach.

"Ise walkin' home, if youse lookin' to buy a pape Ise all out." Race announced confidently.

"Youse real funny," the boy scoffed and moved closer, "who are youse? And why is youse on my turf" He balled his fists and straightened his back to appear taller.

"The names Racetrack Higgins, what's it to ya?" Race lit his cigar and took a long drag, blowing the smoke directly into the other boys face.

"I ain't gonna ask you again." He growled, something about race just infuriated him, the way he strolled around so arrogant and careless, the way he stood their smoking and looking completely unthreatened as he was being interrogated. Spot hated it. He hated him.

"Ise walking home after sellin' my papes for the day, who are youse anyway?" Race asked seemingly, still unthreatened.

Spot smirked. This is where he catches race out, make him tremble at the social superior in front of him.

"Spot, Spot Conlon." You could hear the smugness drenching the words, spot waited for the panicked expression he was used too seeing, he expected his eyes to widen comically large, for his hand to tremble and his knees to go weak. However, none of that happened. The only noticeable change was a large, easy smile spreading like butter across his face.

Spot had NEVER felt such pure rage in his life, his face turned to stone and all he wanted to do was punch that smile off his face.

"Ah now youse the famous spot conlon ise heard so much about." Race chuckled, looking spot up and down.

Spot grunted.

"Ise gotta say, ise thought you'd be taller -" Race was cut off guard by spot shoving him, he fell backwards with a thud. Spot walked over to where Race was now sitting, not yet satisfied with what he had done. He expected the other boy to cry. That's how this normally went. However, when he peered down and he met Races big chocolate brown eyes gazing up at him yet the same stupid smile remained on his face. Spot could see red.

"Wow, that really hit a nerve, huh?" Race chucked, standing back up.

"I want youse out of brooklyn and don't eva come back." Spots voice was dangerously low

"Listen spotty-" Spot grabbed race by the shirt and yanked him closer.

"What the fuck did youse just call me?" He yelled.

"Spotty." Race bit back an egar smile.

"Call me that again and I'll soak ya so fucking bad youse won't be able to walk again." Spot could physically feel his blood boil.

There was a brief pause. The angry red aura around Spot was practically visible, and race looked as if he was fighting back giggles.

"Spotty." Race quickly said before aggressively kicking Spot in the knee, and watching a surprised yelp escape his lips as he collapsed to the floor on his hands and knees, releasing Races shirt. Moments after his hands and knees connected with the dusty floor, he looked back up. His already cold eyes had turned to ice, and his face had flushed with anger. He looked like a bull ready to charge and Race only had one thought.

Oh shit.

Race turned around and bolted as fast as he could towards the bridge, spot chased after him for a while as if Race was waving a red flag at him. However, it was quickly discovered that race was faster than spot by a lot. Spot came to a sweaty halt when he realised he could no longer make races figure out infront of him, so he panted heavily and wiped the sweat from his brow as he turned around for the treck back to the lodging house.

That night was spent tossing and turning, spot writhed in fury as his mind became engulfed by violent fantasies of what would happen the next time the two crossed paths. He couldn't get it out of his mind. He was riled up and irritated far more than he ever had been from a know-it-all rebellious newsie. He wasn't sure why Race wasn't scared of him or what business he had being so irritating. But he knew one thing for sure. He fucking hated Racetrack Higgins.

February 5th 1997

There had not been a day where Spot had not thought about Race. That interaction had consumed his brain, and he replayed it with all the different possible outcomes and responses that would have wiped that bitch-ass smile right off races face. Something about race made him unforgettable. It was aggravating, honestly. No matter how hard he tried to force the thought of him out, they simply would not leave. A boy that he had met once, and would never see again, was taking up this much time in his already overworked brain. Spot knew he had anger issues but far worse had bothered him far less.

"Hey boss- just got word in that a 'hattan newsie sellin' on our terf, sheepshed. I think they said it was." Hotshot said, stadning right in front of the zoned out leader

Spot snapped out of his thoughts at the word sheepshed. He felt his blood circulation move twice as fast as it was before. His heart began to pound at an alarming rate, and he almost felt giddy. The exitment of getting to play out those lesson teaching fantasies was almost too much.

"Boss?" Hotshot asked gingerly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh yeah, leave it with me." Spot beamed, and he stood up and raced to sheepshed as fast as he could, leaving hotshot with a very inquisitive look on his face.

The entire way there, spot could not believe how worked up he was getting, despite the cold weather, he was sweating perfuesly, and although he didn't know it, a rare glint was swimming in his ocean-blue eyes. He had never felt hate like this before, it was new and scary.

"Well, look what we have here." Spot smirked when he was about a foot away from Race, when he turned around, Spots' heart began to bang chaotically around his rib cage.

"Hey spotty, miss me did ya?" The smile that had been haunting spots dreams for weeks was now right infront of him.

"Youse an idiot, ya know that right?" Grumbled spot.

"Yeah ise been told." Race chuckled

"What ya doin' back on my turf?"

"In my defense ise neva really left."

Spot grabbed him by the suspenders in a fit of rage and dragged him all the way out of sheepshed to a nearby alley and shoved him up against the wall.

"At least buy me a drink first spotty-" Race was cut off by Spots fist connecting with his right cheek. He yelped in pain, as the knuckles, released agony into his skin. His skin screamed out to him, and he flew to the floor.

"You shoulda listened to me ya scab." Spot hissed as he siezed races collar and yanked him up. He expected a whitty reply or an easy smile, but instead, he got something wag worse. Race was uncharacteristically quiet. He curled up on himself, and his usually bright,brown eyes seemed drained. He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a quiet whimper.

Spot had imagined this far too many times in his head, how he would beat an apology out of race and make him sorry for showing him up like that. He thought it would be the most relieving feeling ever, but it turns out he was wrong. It didn't bring him the excitement he thought it would. He didn't feel any better. He waited for his hate to overtake him so he could finish the job. However, the longer he stared at races, melancholy, already bruising face, the more guilty he felt.

"Go." He whispered and released his grip. Without another word, Race sped off round the corner whilst spot sank to the floor with his head in his hands. Fuck. What was going on? He had his enemy defenceless and at his mercy, and he just let him go? What was wrong with him? He had never felt hate towards anyone quite like race, and yet seeing Race so helpless just broke something inside of him.

"What are ya doin' to me race..."

April 18th 1897

Races kicked puppy-like face haunted Spots dreams, it made his chest tighten as he released long breathes trying to move the anxiety out of his body. He decided, that on this random April night, he was going to go make emense with his enemy because it was slowly draining the life out of him. The regret and indignation in the air made it poisonous, it hurt to breathe it in. He needed Race like he needed air. It physically hurt to not be around his charming aroma.

Once he had come to the manhattan lodging house, he went to knock, but his hand froze awkwardly in the air.

"Umm, do ya need somethin'?" A kid with a Crutch asked wariely from behind him.

"Im-uh-can youse go get race for me, please?" Spot stuttered for the first time in his life.

The boy nodded and hobbled inside, and moments later, race appeared at the door. His eye was now completely healed. His dark hair was even longer now, and his eyes had gained back their mischievous spark that spot had knocked out of him prior.

"What ya doin' here?" Race asked, clearly surprised.

"Ise came to- Ise wanted to-..." Spot trailed off. He had never apologised for anything.

"Ise wanted to say - Ise sorry." Spot said the last two words extremely quickly.

"What did ya say Ise didn't catch that."

"Ise sorry race."

"One more time for me?'

"Ise said ise-" He could see race repressing giggles, "youse doin' that on purpose!"

That famous, easy smile made its way across races face. Spot felt his stomach flutter.

"It's okay spotty." Race cackled.

"Does that means youse forgive me?" Spot added sheepishly.

"Hm." Race thought for a moment, "no."

Spot began to protest before race cut him off.

"But I will if you let me show you a good time round 'hattan."

Spot wasn't even sure how it happened, but a few minutes later, he was blindly following race into a dingy alley a few blocks from the lodging house. In this alley was a group of grown men sitting in a circle playing poker, with a pile of money place in the middle of the board. The one furthest looked up.

"Hey kid." He greeted

"Deal me in, boys." Race grinned and joined the circle

The round was intense, the group of men obviously very good poker players. However, no matter how much experience, Nobody was better than Racetrack Higgins. Spot watched egarly as the men became more and more frustrated. At the end of the game -the jackpot- they all slowly turned over their cards to reveal the winner. All the men groaned as Race cheekily smiled and collected his winnings.

"See ya next time, boys." Race beamed as he and spot walked a healthy distance from the alley.

"That was incredible, youse a damn good poker player."

Race laughed.

"Yeah maybe...or maybe youse could say I had an ace up my sleeve." He pulled his sleeve down the reveal the eighth of diamonds.

"Youse cheated!" Spot laughed in shock.

"I neva leave home without it, its my lucky card." Race winked and slid it back into his pocket. Spot was so impressed he couldn't even be mad, he had never met anybody like racetrack.

"so whaddare ya gonna do with the money." Spot asked.

"Youse will see. Come on." He grabbed one of spots red suspends and pulled him down the street until they faced a local corner shop.

"Hey Andy." Race chirped as he walked into the store.

"Hey Simon, how's it goin'?" The older man asked from behind the register.

"Simon." Spot whispered into races ear which earned him a kick to the foot.

"It's goin' swell thanks, how's the kids?"

"They're doin' great, how's that girlfriend of yours?"

"That's actually why Ise came in, wes engaged." Race said merrily.

What? Spot was so confused and couldn't even begin to imagine where Race was going with this. He just stood there star-struck.

"Congraduations, what might you want for this special occasion."

"Erm, a bottle of whisky please if youse has any."

The man turned around and began routing through his cabinets. Race was insaine. He was a genius, but he was still insaine.

"Ugh, mortgages are so hard, aren't they Eugene?" Race asked, making eye contact with spot.

"Um yeah, they're a real pain in the ass." Spot replied, biting his tongue to keep back the laughter bubbling in his throat .

The man finally pulled out a bottle, race gave him the winnings and waved him goodbye as they reached the street.

As soon as they were out, the boys broke into hysterical fits of laughter.

"What even is a mortgage?" Race huffed out between giggles. They continued to cackle as they walked to a bench and opened the bottle.

"How old did you tell him you were?" Spot chuckled.

"Thirty seven."

That was it. The boys dissolved back into frantic laughter, and neither seemed to be able to stop. Spot was never like this with anyone, he had walls built so high you'd need a ladder to see over them, yet here he was with his supposed enemy giggling like a child and having the best time of his life.

Race began chugging the liquid before making a scrunched up face and handing it over to spot. The two boys sat there for hours just talking and swigging the bottle like water. Spot had never chatted like this to anyone, and -he blamed it on the drink- but he couldn't seem to stop smiling.

"So Ise said no silly Mr police horse youse dont-." Race drunkenly slurred before being cut off by a flash light being shone right into his face.

"What are you kids doing?" An angry looking copper asked curiously, his eyes fell to the bottle, then to the young faces. Without even speaking, race and spot ran as fast as they could, race having to slow down so that spot could keep up. They drunkenly swerved around, giggling manically as they ran into things. They came across a small fence to which their intoxicated brains decided to climb. Once they had reached the top, both boys fell and landed on their back next to each other.

They looked at each other and exploded into yet another fit of psychotic laughter. Once they had calmed down they turned their heads to face eachother again, spot felt as if he could fall right into races dark eyes and never return. Something about them was so inviting and compelling. He couldn't look away.

Without thinking, he placed a soft kiss into races' lips. When he pulled back, he was terrified for the repercussions, when the easy smile that he loved so dearly appeared on his face he knew he made the right decision.

"Youse knows spotty I almost forgives you for punchin' me in ta face."

"Shaddup."

8th August 1997

Spot was sat on brooklyn Harbour, his legs dangling over the water as he looked beyond the horizon. He felt a presence sit beside him, and he looked over to see none other than Racetrack Higgins.

"Watcha lookin' at?" Race smiled

"The water, its pretty."

"Naw Ise don't think so. There's too many fishes." Race shivered

"What are youse scared of fish?" Spot teased

"Ise not scared of fish I just don't likes them." Race corrected.

Spot began to snicker and race smacked him round the back of the head.

"How can youse be scared of fish, theys so small."

"So are youse, but youse still seems to have everybody scared." Race grinned nervously.

"Naw that's it." He lugged race up and over his shoulder as he began to pretend throw him in the water.

"Ah-conlon-dont you- spotty- please!" Race sounded concerned, but the nervous giggles were throwing off his reliability.

Spot put him down but kept him hovering over the water.

"One wrong move, and the fishes will get ya." Spot joked

Terrified cackles left races body as he clung desperately to the hand holding his shirt, which was the only thing anchoring him to land.

"Agree that ise taller than youse and ill let ya up."

"Fine, youse taller than me!" Race choaked out.

Spot pulled him up and wrapped his arms around races waist, pulling him close.

"Ise don't know how ise eva hated youse so much." Spot said dreamily staring at race with love sick eyes.

"Now spotty that wasn't hate," Race gave an easy smile, "baby that was passion."

#sprace #was really sweet thanks for writing :)

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