#sprace fluff

[clevereverest]

“Now or Never” - Multichapter (Complete)

Chapter 1 • “Prologue”

Chapter 2 • “13 Days to Game Night”

Chapter 3 • “10 Days to Game Night”

Chapter 4 • “9 Days to Game Night”

Chapter 5 • “8 Days to Game Night (Part 1)”

Chapter 6 • “8 Days to Game Night (Part 2)”

Chapter 7 • “7 Days to Game Night (Part 1)”

Chapter 8 • “7 Days to Game Night (Part 2)

Chapter 9 • “5 Days to Game Night”

Chapter 10 • “3 Days to Game Night”

Chapter 11 • “1 Day to Game Night”

Chapter 12 • “Spot’s Game Night”

{—————————————}

Summary and tags below!

[the-real-spot-conlon]

Race, sitting on the floor in front of the fridge at 3 am:

Spot, barely awake: babe, kindly, what the hell are you doing?

Race: *turns to Spot holding a jar of pickles* pickles.

Spot: oh. Can I join?

*proceeds to eat pickles together at 3 am*

[dear-ao3]

newsies fic recs

cause you all asked

unfortunately i remember a lot of the good ones were on tumblr and so many people have changed their urls that they are not findable but, heres what i got

also keep in mind i havent read any of these in years and the summaries im giving are probably ass

these are all mostly ralbert, because that was what i read the most of, except for the ones at the end

the toaster fic (i used to remember this persons tumblr @ like 5 url changes ago but my brain is small and soupy so i am sorry). its crack, under 2k, absolute silliness and im still laughing about it five years later. modern era.

side by side its a really long ralbert soulmates fic where they are oblivious to hell and back. from what i remember its fluffy and silly. modern era.

voice okay she slaps ngl. its a modern era kind of angst situation. albert is mute. theres some referenced homophobia. lots of cuddles. 6k.

shaking thisss is a sick fic if i remember correctly. race is silly and gets a cold and there is cuddling. definitely part of a larger spralmer au but it works as a stand alone. under 5k. modern.

let the memory live again THIS FIC o gosh its killed me several times over. might be my favorite. idk. its up there. modern ralbert au. sad but also happy. albert is supposed to be dead and is not. he also has amnesia. its like 14k. read it at 2 am for maximum effect. god tier.

a love that will never grow old this is a sad canon era soulmate fic. race is alberts soulmate but albert is not races. theres also a sequel. the good kind of dad. multihap, 9k.

hero complex by @turtle-steverogers classic little ralbert oneshot, perfect amount of angst and comfort. albert is a firefighter and race is Worried also theres a dog. about 3k. modern.

thank u, next by the one and only @jack-kellys. its paranormal. its funky. its modern. its five parts and its complete. its 12k words and honestly like. i remember reading this and going absolutely batshit fizz is such a good writer (and is still actively writing newsies, throw them some prompts they love javey)

dont leave me by @sun-kissed-star its sprace, modern and spot is in the military. a good angst fluff angst ping pong match. 3.5k. theres some good and funny little jack moments :)

story written on skin by @patrocool oh my god the most well written soulmate au that i can possibly remember stumbling across at 3 in the morning and crying while reading. its a canon era sprace one. soulmate au where if one person gets injured the other person gets a mark. its really good. theres a part 1 and 2 and its long. like 15k long. read at 3am for best results.

the beast of brooklyn which i dont remember if ive actually read but i was asked to include it on the list so i did. mafia sort of au but also kind of beauty and the beast. well written and beautiful. fuckton of angst. sprace. modern.

[emmedoesntdomath]

redfinch fic ideas??

OOO OKAY SO

(well, first- I said forever ago that I was going to write a redfinch fic, and it’s going to happen, I swear, just…not yet)

IDEAS!

-just like,,, domestic fluff. and you’re probably thinking, no shit, emme, but I made posts about my headcanons for things like jobs and pets and dates, etc., so one might use those sorts of things and just build a world around them. 

-the rival restaurants au. like, finch could be running a family diner or something, and then albert has a fancy restaurant right next door. he’s constantly coming over angry, and finch is just sitting there, chin in palm, sighing dreamily as he leaves. 

-the summer I turned pretty au with albert as belly and finch as conrad and race as jeremiah. I said what I said. 

-the whoopsie my best friend who I used to like a lot is getting married and now I need to find a date so it doesn’t look like I still want him so imma bring my other best friend who definitely doesn’t like me with them and sprace. something that’s been done in the fandom, but not for these two. 

-the theater kid and the band kid. finch is theater, albert is band (he must play the trombone or trumpet, I accept nothing less). 

-wrong number au, but it’s albert accidentally dialing finch instead of race for his one call to bail him out of jail. 

-the hi I think your dog’s cute, can I pet it meet-cute, but then it turns into a date at like the arcade or something and then it’s like oh, no, I’m actually allergic to dogs, I just wanted to flirt with you. 

AND FINALLYYYYYYYY

-coffee shop au, but it’s albert coming in with race every day to get his coffee before class, and finch pining helplessly because he thinks they’re dating 

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

🐚🥤🍄

🐚 (Do you like or dislike surprises?)- Love ‘em! Especially in stories, a surprise plot twist and/or event can really spice up a story when done right!

🥤(Recommend an author/fanfic you love)- Omg I have so many of these, aaaaaa

Okie, so first, I recommend all of the works of @piedoesnotequalpi (especially their Bachelorette AU, I literally love that fic so much), and also all of the writing of @pigeonwit, @loiteringandlurking, @livesincerely, @getyourpaybackwithsomepayback, and @saveugoodmadam! They are all literally such amazing authors, and every time I see any of them have posted a new oneshot/fic I scream with excitement.

Specific fic-wise, I fully recommend “how the body falls apart” by @.penny_core on Ao3. It’s a short-ish Sprace fic with fluff, angst, and smut (but the author does have a version of the fic published where there is no smut, you can find it on their profile). It was literally the fic that inspired me to start writing for Newsies- it’s just such an amazing piece of work, I love that fic with all of my heart.

(This is also a shameless recommendation for my own works, I write on both Quotev and Ao3 as well as here on Tumblr (my Quotev account is @.etherealbumblebee, as is my ao3 account)

🍄(Share a headcanon for one of your favorite ships/pairings): I absolutely love Javid, with all of my heart, and I have so many headcanons for the two of them lol

One of my favorite ones though, not one that I came up with but one that I read in a fic once (I can’t remember which one), is that Davey braids Jack’s hair, and Jack absolutely loves it. The snippet I read was a bit different than this, but I just love imagining this being a time when Jack can just relax and talk to Davey, omg they’re wonderful 😭❤️

Thank you so much for sending in an ask!!!! :D

(If I tagged you and you’d like to be taken off this post, please let me know!! <3)

[sluttylittlenewsboy]

Fictober 2: Blush

Prompt: "Don't worry, I got you"

Summery: Blink is decorating for Halloween on an unsteady ladder

TW: None

I could've made this prompt really angsty, but I chose fluff instead. If anyone wants the angst version with Sprace, let me know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Blink!" Mush exclaimed as he walked out of the house. Kid Blink was on a ladder by the top of the roof, putting up purple and orange Halloween lights.

"Yeah, babe?" Blink called.

"Get down from there! You's gonna fall!"

"I'll be fine, Mush. I will not get down until I finish these lights"

Mush rolled his eyes.

"Okay, but I'm holding the ladder for you!" Much called. Blink rolled his eyes.

Mush held on to the ladder like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to the floor.

Everything was fine until Blink slipped. The ladder began to sway, and Blink struggled to get his footing.

Mush held the ladder tight, and it stopped moving. Blink's hand was over his chest, and his breathing was erratic.

"Don't worry, I got you" Mush called.

"I think I'm done decorating for a while," Blink said. Mush laughed.

[raggedy-albert]

is there like a google form i can fill out for a new newsies ship

i’ve never seen it before but i think it makes sense and i kinda love it tbh

it’s race x albert x finch

end the discourse between ralbert and redfinch

just like with sprace vs ralbert, create spralbert

also their ship name can be like red robin or something

they can fit so much angst and fluff and they’re chaos boyfriends and i love them all so much

[thefactsofthematter]

43 for sprace but race said that

43: “YOU DID WHAT?”

y’all ready for some fluff??? i’m absolutely loving this little au and i hope you do too!! no content warnings here, just pure sweetness and stupidity 🤩

-

It's a Saturday afternoon in the middle of July, it's gorgeous outside, and Racetrack Higgins is stuck in his bedroom, doing homework.

He's not sure how long he's been staring at the same page of his textbook, his eyes unfocused and not really reading anything anymore, when he hears the door of the apartment swing open. His roommates went out a couple of hours ago to go enjoy the beautiful day, like any other sane people who opted not to take an unbearably hard summer course would do— they must finally be back now.

"Hi Race!"

There's really no need for Spot to shout, as their place truly isn't that big, but the man seems to only have two volume settings— silent and stoic, or obnoxiously loud. It's kind of hilarious.

"Hi Spot!" Race calls right back, silently thanking all that's holy for the interruption and excuse to leave his desk for a bit. He stands up to head out to the living room, and his whole back cracks. He's clearly been sitting too long. "What's up, dude!?"

"You gotta come see this, bro!" Spot continues. "Me and Olivia got matching tattoos!"

Immediately, Race's brow furrows in some mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Wait, you did what?"

When he turns the corner, there stand his two roommates— or rather, one sits happily in a baby carrier, strapped to the chest of the other, because she's only ten months old and not very good at standing yet. They're a very cool pair, in their matching sunglasses and tank tops, and they're both grinning like absolute devils. It's adorable.

"Lookit," Spot beams, holding up Olivia’s chubby little arm to show the temporary tattoo of a sparkly purple unicorn that's been applied to her bicep. He's got the very same one shimmering on his cheek, as his face is one of the only parts of his body not covered in real tattoos. "We're twinning!"

Race can't help but laugh.

"You are. Where'd you get those?"

"There was this street fair thing going on a few blocks down, some booth was giving away all these little stickers and tattoos and stuff," Spot replies, toeing his shoes off and dropping his diaper bag by the door. He pulls something from his back pocket. "We got you one too— Livy didn't want you to feel left out." He passes the square of paper into Olivia’s tiny fist. "Here, give it to Racer, baby."

Race walks over to grab it from her, and she giggles and blows a raspberry at him.

"What did your daddy do to you, Liv?" he teases, crouching down to coo at her. "Pretty soon you're gonna be all inked up, just like him!"

She babbles and reaches out for him.

"Can you hang out with her for a minute?" Spot asks, carefully unclipping the carrier to take her out. "I need to give her a bottle and put her down for a nap, but I gotta piss first."

"Of course. I'm always down to hang out with this little princess." Race takes the baby, making all kinds of silly faces at her to distract her as Spot walks away. He bounces her gently in his arms and wanders over to the kitchen. "Where should I put my tattoo? What do you think, Olive?"

He opens the fridge to grab a pre-mixed bottle— Spot usually keeps a few on hand— and gives it a good shake. Olivia has gotten picky lately and only likes cold formula, rather than warmed or room-temperature, so he passes it straight to her and she's happy to go to town on it.

"Man, you were hungry," he chuckles. "Look at you go. You're drinking like your daddy doing a keg stand— did you know he was a party animal? Believe it or not, your dad used to be cool."

Spot is still cool, Race supposes, but it's fun to pick on him; he obviously doesn't go out as much as he used to, even though he's finally legal now, because he's a little busy looking after a tiny human most of the time. In fact, it's incredibly cool that Spot balances part-time school, part-time work, and full-time single fatherhood so gracefully at only twenty-one, because Race is rather sure he'd have some kind of stress-induced mental breakdown every other week if he were in Spot's shoes.

Actually, Spot is kind of the coolest person alive, if you really think about it.

And Race does think about it... a lot.

Not in a weird way, because he's been best friends with Spot for over three years, ever since they were randomly assigned roommates in their freshman dorm, and he's also seventy percent sure Spot is straight— but, like, he probably admires the guy a little more than would be considered normal for your best pal.

"Now, about this tattoo, huh?" He changes the topic from his own overthinking, keeping Olivia cradled in one arm as he rummages around for some paper towel with his free hand. "There's no chance I'm putting it on my face. What if I match with you and put it on my arm?"

Race doesn't have nearly as many tattoos as Spot, just a few doodles all around his arms and chest, and he's currently shirtless because it's hot as balls in his bedroom, so he could really stick the sparkly unicorn practically anywhere. He wets the paper towel in the sink and uses it to press the little square of paper to the bicep of the arm that he's holding Olivia with.

It's just as he's peeling the paper off to reveal his new ink that Spot emerges from his bathroom break.

"Aren't you two just the cutest?"

Race grins.

"I know, I'm pretty adorable. I guess she's okay too."

Spot rolls his eyes. He looks totally exhausted but incredibly content, which has basically been his default ever since Olivia came into the picture. He never complains about his situation, though it surely isn't easy— he just keeps trucking along and doing his best, rarely even asking for help.

"Dumbass," he laughs. "Thanks for feeding her, though. She was getting super fussy while we were out— I think the heat was a little much."

"I'll go put her down when she's done eating," Race offers. "You look beat. Just chill for a bit, I've got her."

Spot leans against the counter, rubs his hands over his face, and lets out a deep, tired sigh. He clearly needed this little break.

"Fuck. Thank you. You're amazing."

Race rocks Olivia gently— she's settled right down, looking very comfy and sleepy. He truly didn't think he was good with kids until this little angel came along; he's apparently got some kind of magic touch, because she's always perfectly calm for him.

"No problem, bro. I'm always happy to help."

Spot sets to work on making himself something to eat, so Race just paces around until it looks like Olivia’s about done with the bottle, her eyes starting to fall shut.

"Alrighty. Time for a nap, little dude." He sets the bottle in the sink and heads off to Spot's bedroom to lay her in her cot. He carefully wiggles her into her sleep sack, pops a pacifier in her mouth, switches on the white noise speaker, and draws the curtains. "Have a good sleep, Livy. I love you."

He gently shuts the door behind him— he knows she sleeps like a rock, but he still gets paranoid about being too loud— and when he steps back into the living room, Spot is unabashedly staring at him from where he’s settled himself on the couch.

"Dude," Spot says, after a second, "I think I might be in love with you."

Race stops short. His heart skips a beat.

"What?" He shakes his head. "I mean... awesome. Sick. That's great. But, like... what?"

Spot laughs a little to himself, with that stupid sparkly unicorn still shimmering on his cheek.

"I can’t believe I just realized it. You’re just, like, the best person ever— you’re hot, and you’re smart, and you take such good care of Liv, and I’m so into you… is that weird?”

Race blinks.

“No, not that weird.” He sits down next to Spot on the couch. “I don’t think so, at least. It’s chill.”

“I just told you I’m in love with you,” Spot laughs, “and all you can say is it’s chill? What does that even mean?”

Now, for someone who talks an awful lot, Race is terrible with words. He’s got absolutely no clue what to say, so he simply pulls Spot in for a kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” he asks, after a few seconds.

Spot rolls his eyes.

“You are so fucking stupid.”

But he kisses Race again, so he can’t possibly be that annoyed.

Race smiles into it— everything about Spot’s kiss is perfect, and he can’t help but think that this is exactly how their weird little family was meant to be.

[ao3feed-newsies]

The Death of a King

by, a_very_confused_emu by a_very_confused_emu Newsies Turf War. Fic includes, and is not limited to; idiots pining over each other, really soft Sprace slow-dancing, betrayal, love, scheming and awkward moments! And hey, this might not be for you, but give it a crack - you might find you like it. Words: 2106, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Fandoms: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: Multi Characters: Jack Kelly (Newsies), Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon, Hotshot - Character, Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Specs (Newsies), Romeo (Newsies), Brooklyn Newsies, Original Newsie(s), So. Many. OC’s, Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Bill Hearst, Darcy Reid, Oscar Delancey, Morris Delancey, Wiesel (Newsies), There are probably more but I can’t think of them off the top of my head Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly (Newsies)/Original Character(s), Crutchie (Newsies)/Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Make Character Additional Tags: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Gangs, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Character Death, Making Out, Implied/Referenced Sex, Slow Dancing, Turf War, Knives, Alcohol, The Refuge (Newsies), Injury, Mutual Pining, More tags will be added if I think of them, Spot Conlon is Bad at Feelings, Soft Spot Conlon, they all need hugs tbh read : https://ift.tt/KhLfcFI - January 20, 2024 at 07:34PM

[clevereverest]

So… Christmas or holiday fics, anyone?

I have two Christmas fics planned myself - any other Newsies authors working on new holiday stuff, too?

Additionally, I will gladly take holiday-centered fic recs!

- Fluff or Hurt/Comfort

- Race/Spot or Jack/David

- And if you know me at all, I also love Albert/Finch, but I don’t think they have as much :( PLEASE correct me on that if I’m wrong, I’d honestly love to be wrong

Feel free to self-promote!! (I basically did lol) Just keep it to holiday-themed works, please!

[the-real-spot-conlon]

Daily reminder to get some sleep and don't stay up late writing Sprace fluff that you quite halfway through and start a new one.

[jack-kellys]

002 for ralbert lmao. go wild

- @we-are-inevitable ✨

HELLO lmao. on the double bro

tbh still send me fandom/ship/character asks!!

the originals!!

When I started shipping them:

five years ago they were the only pairing i felt confident about writing about, all my fluff/easy and go-to fics were for them, i did all my requests for them.. they are my everything <3 the reason i got into fic writing!!

My thoughts:

they are still my guys forever!! things have gotten.. complicated now that my view on racetrack has tbh become more nuanced and three dimensional, but they are the epitome of friends to lovers. there's a beautiful simplicity to how naturally they fall in love, in my mind. of course they're in love. thats what it is. ugh.

What makes me happy about them:

how their relationship subtly falls into romantic love from solely friendship. al starts leaning into race's touches, race is smiling whenever albert laughs, the two of them finding their new normal and level of comfortability with each other. it's more jarring for al than it is race, since al isn't good with change, but they both sense it, and race is perfectly slow and easy with it all. godddddd they just KNOW EACH OTHER so well

What makes me sad about them:

ONE SIDED RALBERT TURN IT UPPPP!! albert falling into a feeling that isnt there as he realizes the king of brooklyn has swept race off his feet and away from al. ough. and the refusal of al to hold a grudge because, well, at least race is happy. EVERY time its good. it's always good and so sad

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

fandom-wide they're viewed as the "dumbasses in love" i feel like and while yes so true... they aren't actually idiots. they aren't always pulling pranks and being cartoonish yk i feel like that's so watered down

Things I look for in fanfic:

well tbh now i rly like them when they aren't the main ship because they're also like.... such a good couple when written from another person's pov??? because then the narrator also can see just how compatible race and albert work together, and we don't even have to hear either race's or albert's inner thoughts to see them be in sync. it's just nice :)

My wishlist:

my wish is that jacob fisher and josh barnett will read my mind by this saturday and give me a uksies ralbert!! because it is genuinely!! not there. which is of course fine, it's whoever's friends with who, but like....damn. i miss them in king of new york.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

i am fine with sprace. like i am. i think they're a fun squabbling side ship. and i REALLY do love redfinch, honestly, they are very gentle to me. <3

My happily ever after for them:

they graduate college together and live in an RV and go on trips around the country together for a year!!

thanks jac!!!!!! <3

[kellyscowboy]

꒰✧ᯇ✦꒱MASTERLIST !! ♡  ꒱꒱

any writing that isn't newsies related will be on the account: @eyesintheheat

✦ - ONESHOT || ✹ - MULTI CHAPTER FIC ☀ - FLUFF || ☁ - ANGST

SHIPS I. RELFECTION OF DECEPTION jack kelly's mirror lies to him, and david jacobs would rather take a lifetime of bad luck than let the mirrors continue with their deceitful schemes ↳ JAVID || 823 WORDS || ✦☁ II. BROOKLYN RED in manhattan they'd call it a sin, but race's wearing brooklyn red for him ↳ SPRACE || 1249 WORDS || ✦☀

masterlist updated every time i post any sort of writing

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

“Oh look, another glorious morning. Makes me sick!” for Sprace? 😇

Truth be told, I didn’t really know where I was going with this prompt then this happened. Sometimes the characters have a mind of their own and it turns really cute and fluffy. This is pure fluff for Sprace! 

Getting out of bed as quiet as he could, Stop stood at the side of the bed stretching, admiring the view of his husband snoring softly in the bed. Shaking his head at Race, Spot walked to the bathroom, grabbing a few things along the way before shutting the door and taking a shower. 

Opening the bathroom door, he chuckled watching the steam billow out, using his towel to wipe off the mirror before starting his morning routine. He heard the familiar jingle of a collar before watching, in the mirror, their Miniature Goldendoodle, Lucky, wander into the room. She sat at the foot of the bed, looking between the bed and where Spot stood before lumbering over to him. 

“Morning, Luck.” He crouched down, giving her some pats and rubs before standing up and continuing with his routine. “Stay off the bed, girl. Let dad sleep some more.” 

He finished up, clicking his fingers softly before heading out the door and walking downstairs. He heard Lucky lumbering behind him as he made his way to the kitchen. Flipping on the coffee pot, he turned on the TV, looking for anything but the news to watch. He settled on the sports highlights from the night before as Lucky jumped up on the couch beside him. 

He always loved mornings. Usually, it was a quiet time for him to think, plan out the day, or just catch up on some reading. He usually finishes a cup of coffee before Race gets out of bed. Fixing his cup of coffee, he settled down on the couch, the warmth of Lucky pressed against his side keeping him warm. 

As he drained his cup, he could hear the creek of the floor upstairs signaling Race was up. Pushing himself off the couch, he walked to the kitchen, fixing himself a second cup and Race his first. As he heard the footfalls on the steps, he picked up the mugs heading back to the living room. He had to bite back a chuckle as he got his first glance at Race, who’s hair was sticking up in all directions from his well rested night. 

“Morning.” Spot gave him his mug, settling back on the couch next to Lucky. “How did you sleep?” 

Grunting, Race shrugged, breathing in the delicious smell of his coffee before taking a sip. This was his typical response and it never failed to make Spot grin at his husband. 

After a couple more sips of his coffee, Race looked a little more coherent. “Oh look, another glorious morning. Makes me sick!”

“Well then, it’s going to be a fantastic day.” Spot sipped his coffee, looking at his grump of a husband. 

Race gave him a look, moving from the oversized chair to the couch next to Spot, cuddling into him. “Why?” 

“Why what, snookums?” Spot threw an arm around him, letting him cuddle into his chest. 

Race buried his head, seeking the warmth of his husband’s chest. “Why are you so awake? Why must you love mornings?” 

“This isn’t anything new, Racer.” He ran his hand through Race’s hair. “We’ve been together for 8 years and married for 4 and you’re just now questioning that?” 

Yawning, Race sighed. “I’ve known it but I just don’t get it. Mornings are horrible.” 

“I know but there’s something special about a morning, it’s quiet and peaceful. It’s shameful wasting a day away by sleeping.” Spot shrugged, leaning down to kiss Race, who sighed in contentment. “Besides, morning cuddles are a pretty amazing thing and you’re an amazing cuddler.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Race gave him a look. “You’re buttering me up for something.” 

“No, not buttering you up; just stating a fact. You are an amazing cuddler, the best I’ve ever known.” Spot grinned. 

Race huffed. “I better be the only one you’re cuddling, mister.” 

“There’s a little girl that I love cuddling, but she’s 4.” Spot loved egging Race on when he first woke up due to the slow reaction time. 

“Maisie doesn’t count. She’s a great cuddler.” Race agreed, finishing his coffee before putting the empty mug on the side table. “What are the plans for today?” 

Looking at his phone, Spot sighed. “We’re supposed to go apple picking with Finch and Albert.” 

“Yay.” Race sat up, giving Spot a look. “Snookums?” 

Raising an eyebrow at him, Spot was concerned by the sugarly sweet tone Race’s voice had suddenly taken on. “Yes, pooks?” 

“Will you be the absolute dearest and make an apple pie for dessert tonight?” Race gave him a cheesy grin that he knew Spot wouldn’t be able to resist. 

Laughing, Spot pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him before kissing him. “Yes, pooks I can make one. But it’ll cost you.” 

“Cost me how?” Race’s voice was leery of his husband’s request. 

Spot kissed, grinning. “Clean up the kitchen after I’m done making the pie?” 

“You’re not going to mess it up any worse than you normal do, will you?” Race sighed. 

Pausing, Spot looked at Race. “Depends on how cinnamony you want the pie. Do you want a lot or a little in it?” 

“I want a repeat of last year’s Thanksgiving Apple Pie. So whatever you did to make that fantastic pie, I want you to recreate it.” Race pouted, hoping that would sway Spot to say yes. “And yes, I’ll clean up the kitchen.” 

Thinking back on his pie last year, Spot just remembered throwing in a handful of cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar, not really measuring it out. “I will try to recreate the pie from Thanksgiving last year. I didn’t write down the exact measured ingredients.” 

“Ok, snookums.” Race kissed him, snuggling into his embrace. “Just do your best. What time are we going apple picking?” 

Spot sighed, feeling Race’s breath on his neck. “I think we’re meeting at 11. We’ve got some time if you want to cuddle.” 

“Aren’t we already doing that?” He asked as Spot snorted, running his hand through Race’s hair. 

“Just making sure we’re on the same page.” Spot chuckled. “I love you Racetrack.” 

“Love you too, Spottie.” His voice sounded sleepy as Spot continued to rake his fingers through his curls. 

Before long, Spot heard the soft snores of Race as he laid on him like a koala in a tree. But honestly, Spot wouldn’t have moved for the world. He was in heaven - a snoring puppy on one side and a snoring husband on him. The perfect Saturday morning.

Thanks @cutesiewoojin for sending this in! 

[little-bit-of-cinnamon]

The Difference Between Talking and Doing - Sprace

Race was at a student government conference when his hotel room phone rang. He wasn’t expecting Spot on the other line. 

Sprace modern high school AU

Fluff, getting together

4.1k words

Race has always prided himself on being a leader, being the one that a lost underclassman could ask for directions to class, the one that teachers trust to watch their classroom as they leave the room. He went to all the school events, joined all the committees, and was an active member of student government. And a passionate one at that.

Student government made him feel like he had an impact on the school, like he could listen to his peers and bring new ideas to the table. He felt like he meant something, made a difference. So, he attended all the meetings, volunteered at all the fundraisers. He was at every school event, and everyone knew him because of it.

Race liked being known, it made him feel like he had a real high school experience. He wasn’t just sitting in class, taking notes, and going home.

So, when the annual statewide student government conference rolled around in March, he was the first to apply.

And, unsurprisingly, the first to be accepted.

And, two weeks later, the first on the bus.

Race was an outgoing person, always eager to meet new people and make new friends, yet his favorite part of these events always remained the same. Bonding with his own council. He loved dinners with his friends and underclassmen who he doesn’t know and his advisors. Making jokes and making memories. He loved the SnapChat group Romeo made, sending videos they sneak of their unsuspecting peers as they eat. He loves the teasing, the strengthening of relationships, the level of comfort and acceptance that isn't regularly found in school.

But the very best part wasn’t even a part of the conference itself, it was at night in the hotel. They all piled into Medda’s room, ignoring the teasing they get from other schools’ councils when they find out that they all hang out with their advisor. They play games, truth or dare or never have I ever and other lame party games, they tell embarrassing stories and eat way too many M&Ms. Race loves for it.

Nobody gets enough, or any, sleep and coffee is hard to come by in the morning, with the hundreds of overtired teenagers all with the same need, but nobody gets grumpy, nobody cares that they have to be up at 7. They’re all just happy to be with each other and, honestly, it’s magical.

Race was looking forward to their first night of council bonding all day. He ate dinner, watched the annual conference lip sync battle and then went straight upstairs. He stopped in his room to brush his teeth (he hates the feeling of unbrushed teeth) and went to secure a spot on the extra bed in Medda’s room. Soon, everyone began piling in, squeezing on the bed or sitting on the floor. Talking about who was auditioning for the upcoming play (Race was) and who was surprised that Jack and Davey started dating (Race wasn’t), he felt the familiar comfort and contentedness fill him up and he sunk back into the pillows, grateful to be experiencing this once more.

It was hardly past midnight when there was a knock at the door.

“Who could that be?” Medda asked as she stood from the desk chair, walking to the door.

“I dunno,” said Finch, “I think everyone’s here.”

The man at the door was tall and intimidating, stern eyes and a gray beard.

“I assume you didn’t hear about the curfew.” He looked unamused.

“Oh, I’m sorry. These are all my kids, we’re just doing some bonding and debriefing. I know where everyone is.” Medda explained.

“I’m glad you’ve done the bare minimum but I’m afraid that there is a 12:15 curfew that your students are breaking.” The man smiled but it was obviously fake, condescending.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s alright, everybody is accounted for. We do this every year.”

“Not this year you don’t. Everyone must be back in their assigned rooms immediately. I will be back in five minutes. I am not afraid to bring security.” The man turned on his heel and continued down the hall.

“Well,” Medda shut the door and entered the room, looking shocked, “you heard the man, I guess. Everyone off to bed.”

Everyone began gathering their things and filing out of the room. “I can’t believe that guy would talk to Medda like that, she’s an adult show some respect,” Race said.

“I know, it’s such a bummer. Hanging in here is always my favorite part,” agreed Spot.

Spot Conlon. Senior class president. Intimidating guy. Race has known him for as long as he can remember but he still finds it difficult to talk to him. Spot oozes a sense of too cool for you that Race couldn’t overcome. And it didn’t help that he was literally gorgeous. Race thinks that everyone probably has a crush on Spot but everyone’s too intimidated to say anything.

“Yeah, the whole point of this conference is to strengthen the council. That dude’s bullshit.” Race pulled his key card out of his lanyard and opened the door to his room. “Good night, I guess.” Race stepped into his room and flopped straight to his bed, Crutchie and Jack following.

Race and his roommates were talking and mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, nobody tired because they weren’t expecting to be in bed so soon when the room’s phone rang. Race, his bed being next to the phone on the nightstand, answered.

“Hello?” Race asked, confused.

“Hey, this Racer?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Yeah, Spot?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Why are you calling my room? Nobody uses these phones.” Race sat up against the headboard, answering Jack and Crutchie’s confused faces with a shrug.  

“That dude can’t stop me from talking to people,” Spot said. “So you’re using the shitty hotel phones as your way of sticking it to the man?” Race asked, smiling.

“Honestly, it was the first thing I thought of. What are you guys up to? You with Crutch and Cowboy?”

“Yeah, we were just hanging around. Weren’t expecting to be in bed this early.” Race got comfortable, falling into the conversation.

“Yeah, this totally blows. No offense to my roommates but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to spending the entire night with them.” Race heard a muffled “Dude we’re right here,” from the other line.

And so, they kept talking. About the day, the plans they had for tomorrow, the crazy English teacher they shared. It was hard to believe that they’d hardly talked before tonight.

Race hadn’t noticed the time passing until Jack and Crutchie were both ready to sleep.

“Racer, I don’t wanna put an end to your endless flirting but Crutch and I are gonna go to bed. Wanna do us a favor and shut the fuck up? Ain't this what texting was invented for?” Jack plugged his phone in and set it on the nightstand before taking his socks off and getting into bed. Race checked the clock on the dresser. 3:42.

“Shit, Spot. We should probably get some sleep.” Race said, giving an apologetic smile to Jack. Jack rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, I guess. Talk to ya soon Racer.”

Race set down the phone and got up to take his contacts out.

“You two talked for a while,” Crutchie called from his bed to Race in the bathroom.

“He’s just easy to talk to I guess. I don’t know, it’s weird. I’ve never really talked to him much before.” Race washed his hands and stared at his tired eyes in the mirror.

“Yeah and so are we,” Jack called. “You just ignored us for like four hours. I didn’t realize you were trying to get a man this weekend.”

“Shut up, I’m not,” Race walked out of the bathroom wearing his glasses. “He called here, I just had a conversation. Besides, he could have been calling for any of us.”

“Whatever you say but neither of us would have talked to Spot Conlon for more than a minute before hanging up. Right, Crutch?” Jack turned the light off as Race got into bed.

“Honestly I’m surprised you answered the phone,” answered Crutchie.

“So what? I’m personable and you’re jealous. Good night fellas.” Race set his glasses on the nightstand and resisted the urge to text Spot. His number sat unused in Race’s phone. It would be weird if Race texted him, he’s sure Spot only talked to Race to have something to do. No big deal.

The next morning was business as usual. Jack, Race, and Crutchie woke up and groaned about being tired for only a minute before getting ready for the day. The days at the conference were long and busy with little downtime outside of meals so they packed their bags with snacks and their notebooks and phone chargers before meeting up with some of the others to go to breakfast. The three boys along with Davey, Katherine and Finch all met in the hallway and we’re about to leave when another door opened and out stepped Spot.

“Hey, guys. You heading to breakfast?” Spot asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah, you wanna join us?” Asked Davey.

“Thanks. I didn’t get a ton of sleep and my roommates were out early.” The group started walking toward the elevators.

“I wonder why.” Jack elbowed Race in the side as soon as Spot was out of earshot.

Race wasn’t sure how to act. It’s not like he and Spot are best friends. They’ve hardly spent any time together. Sure, now Race knows that Spot wants to be a lawyer and he loves meatball subs and his guilty pleasure is The Bachelorette but still, he hardly actually knows him.

“Shut up, Jack. I don’t wanna hear it.” Race replied quietly yet seriously.

Spot, Katherine, and Finch walked ahead, having some conversation the others couldn’t hear. “What’s going on with Spot and Race?” Davey asked.

“Nothing,” Race insisted but at the same time Crutchie replied, “They spent all night flirting on the hotel phone.”

“Really? Race and Spot Conlon? Not exactly a pair I would put together.”

“Dave, I’m literally standing right here.” Race rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, buddy. Maybe next time if you wanna flirt discreetly do it over text.”

“That’s what I said!” Jack said excitedly, bouncing as he walked.

Race took his phone from his pocket and checked his notifications, ignoring the conversation between the others.

The days at the conference are long and busy. After breakfast they broke into leadership workshops with students from other schools and Race didn’t see his friends for any longer than a passing by in the hallway. He didn’t mind, though. He loves reconnecting with old friends who he hasn’t seen in months or even since the last conference the year before. He plays games and light-hearted get-to-know-you’s while having serious discussions about inclusion and fundraising and school politics. It’s all of Race’s favorite things wrapped into one.

He didn’t think about Spot or Jack or Crutchie, he just had fun, took notes and made friends. After the workshops, they met in the main hall for a keynote speaker. There’s no losing with these. Either they’re very motivational and moving or they're terrible and the council can make jokes about them in the group chat. Race ignored the sadness he felt when Spot sat at a different table. They’re not even really friends, why should he care that he didn’t sit with Race and his friends? He shook off his emotions and took a SnapChat video of Jack under Davey’s arm to caption with a disgusted emoji. There’s no reason he should be bothered by Spot so he’ll just carry on.

That night was the fancy night. There was a banquet where everyone had to dress up and they gave out awards and recognized the best advisors and people gave speeches. But most importantly, it’s boring. The speeches were long and Race never knew who any of the people are anyway. The only benefits are the good food and being able to mess around with his friends with the added thrill of needing to be quiet. Everything’s funnier when you’re not supposed to laugh.

Because the banquet was formal, there was extra time for everyone to get ready than there would usually be for an evening program. Race isn’t finicky about his look. He doesn’t usually try to manage his curls more than wetting and brushing them and that’s the extent of his cosmetic routine. Jack, on the other hand, is surprisingly precise about getting his hair just right and looking his best. Maybe it’s an artist thing, like his hair is a canvas and his too-strong smelling pomade is the paint. Race is sure it also doesn’t help his time management that Davey is sitting on the counter in the bathroom while Jack gets ready in the mirror, but that’s none of his business.

So, Race was lying in bed, already in his dress shirt and bowtie waiting for the rest of his peers to be ready to leave. Eventually, as he waited, people joined him and his room became the hangout for the boys who were already ready to go.

There were probably about eight guys in the room already when Spot walked in. He was wearing a dark navy shirt with a grey tie and he looked incredible. Race fell from second place to seventh on the game of Mario Kart they were playing on Elmer’s Switch when Spot walked in.

“Hey, fellas. I heard some fun in here so I thought I’d stop by.” Spot took a seat on Race’s bed and began watching the game.

“Yeah, man, no problem. We got time to kill and snacks and Mario Kart, I dunno why you’d be anywhere else.” Jack said without taking his eyes off the screen. He was in tenth place but still determined to win. From his spot on the bed, Jack elbowed Race, looking over at him with a small grin. Race glared back.

Spot took a seat on the office chair in the room. “Who’s who?” Spot said, leaning over to see the screen.

“I’m top right,” said Race.

“Damn, Higgins. Seventh place? You gotta step up.” Spot began spinning in the chair.

“Yeah, I was almost in the lead but I got distracted.” Race concentrated on the screen.

“Oh yeah? By what?” Spot stopped the chair’s movement to look at Race.

Race froze. “Uh, nothing. Never mind.”

“Real smooth, Racer.” Jack grinned.

“Shut up, Jack. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Race looked up from the screen to steal a glance at Spot. Race swears he could see Spot look away before they could make eye contact; as if Spot was looking at Race and didn’t want to get caught.  Race grinned and focused his attention back to the game, shooting into third place.

Race ended in third and gave up his spot for the next game, allowing someone else to play. He moved onto Jack’s bed, closer to the desk Spot was sitting in.

“You’re not gonna play?” Race asked Spot.

“Nah, you guys seem to be having fun.” Spot shook his head.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with us.”

“I don’t wanna intrude.”

“It’s not intruding.” Race said, “we’re all here for the same reason. We’re all hanging out.”

“Thanks, Race. Maybe later.” Spot took his phone out of his pocket and looked away from Race. It might be his imagination but Race thinks he can see Spot smile. It feels good to know that he is the one who caused it.

“Is anyone naked in here?” A voice came from outside the door.

“Yeah, Kat. We all are, come on in.” Jack called back.

The door opened. “Shut up, I wanted to make sure it was safe to enter. You guys ready?”

Katherine looked beautiful with her makeup done and her dress complimenting her body.

“We good fellas?” asked Jack. The guys began gathering their things and heading toward the door.

“You look beautiful, Katherine.” Race said, “That dress is bangin’”

“Aw, thanks, Racetrack. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Everyone met in the hallway and Medda led them down to the banquet hall. They took some group pictures and Race became a designated photographer for some of the girls having photoshoots for Instagram before he got dragged into some photos himself.

He loved this environment, where everyone was friends even if they don’t talk much at school. Maybe that’s why Spot’s been talking to him. Not because he wants to talk to Race, in particular, he just has been in the mood to be social, to meet people, to bond. That was probably it. There was no reason for Spot to call Race’s room, he probably didn’t even know who was in each room. And he could have wanted to talk to Jack or Crutchie. There was nothing there.

Race was determined to not let this realization ruin his mood. The dinner on banquet night is always the best and the way the council sneaks videos of each other failing to stay awake during the speeches is one of his favorite parts of the night. He still has that and he has his friends with him and that’s all he needs.

In the banquet hall Race sat next to Davey and Katherine, which means Jack, Crutchie, and Sarah were coming in tow.  The rest of the council filled into the tables nearby, and the chatter and excitement for dinner and the dance later that night filled the room.

Race’s mood didn’t fall for the rest of the night. The dinner ended and people were clearing the hall to prepare for the dance. They were serving ice cream in the hotel lobby to keep the students busy while they put the tables away. The excitement of the dance that night echoed through the lobby as people lined up to get back into the hall.

The dance was crowded and hot and sweaty and shouldn’t be enjoyable but Race was in his element. His throat hurt from screaming the lyrics to random pop songs as well as student government favorites but he wouldn’t have it any other way. A slow song came on and Race left the dance floor. He could see his coupled friends move toward each other and some of his other friends dance together as a half-joke half-platonic loving gesture. Race headed to the refreshments to get some water.

He was filling his cup when someone came up behind him.

“Hey, Racer.”

Race turned around to see Spot Conlon behind him holding an empty cup.

“Spot, hey. Slow songs not your thing?” Race took a sip.

“Not when I have nobody to dance with.” Spot filled his own cup.

“Yeah, I feel that.”

“Is there something weird between us?” Spot asked suddenly. “We talked so much last night but today it’s like we don’t even know each other.”

“Oh, thank God.” Race let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. The lights changed and Race’s favorite song started playing. “I gotta go, but let’s just say if you called again tonight, I’d answer.” Race threw away his cup and ran toward the dancefloor. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

The dance ended and Race and his friends were walking back to their rooms. When they turned the corner down the hall they saw the same man from the night before waiting by their rooms.

“There someone you’re looking for?” Asked Jack.

“No, I’m just here to make sure this council stays in their assigned rooms tonight, it seems you can’t be trusted.” The man stood with his arms crossed, looking down the hallway.

“Alright then, good night I guess.” Jack took his keycard out and opened their room and Race and Crutchie followed him in.

“That seems unnecessary,” said Crutchie.

“Yeah, totally,” Race said but he was too focused on the phone. He hadn’t talked to Spot since he saw him at the dance.

Race took a shower, hoping the whole time that the phone wouldn’t ring while he was bathing. Because it seemed that this year there would be no council bonding this year Race brushed his teeth and took his contacts out before changing into pajamas. He was sitting on his bed texting his mom when the phone rang.

“Hey.” Race tried to not sound too excited.

“What’s up, Racer?”

“Not much, apparently. I can’t believe that guy won’t let us hang out in Medda’s room”

“Don’t worry. I figured out a way. Come through the sliding door.”

Race looked across the room to the door leading to a courtyard. The hotel was shaped like a rectangle with a garden in the center. Race can’t believe he hadn’t thought of this. If the people on this side of the hall go through the courtyard they could get into each other’s rooms.

“Spot, you’re a genius.” Race hung up the phone and headed toward the door, ignoring Crutchie asking where he’s going.

When Race got outside he saw Spot waiting with a smug grin on his face.

“Nice glasses, Racetrack.”

Spot was still wearing his formalwear from the dance and Spot was suddenly very aware of his flannel pajama pants and glasses.

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting to see anyone but Jack and Crutch tonight.”

Spot’s grin grew. “So if you knew you were gonna see me you would’ve gotten all dolled up?”

Race could feel his cheeks grow red. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Race?” Spot asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna kiss me as badly as I wanna kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Race repeated with a smile.

“Get over here, then.”

Race stepped forward, closing the space between them. Spot’s arms wrapped around Race’s waist and he pulled him closer. Race didn’t know how badly he wanted this until it started happening but now he can’t imagine a world without Spot. Two days ago Race and Spot hardly spoke. They had different friends, different classes, different lives and Race had no clue what he was missing out on.

They separated when they heard the door to Race’s room open.

“Racetrack Higgins, you mean to tell me that you found a way to hang out with other rooms and you didn’t tell us so that you could stand out in the cold and make out with Spot?” Jack looked offended as he walked outside, Crutchie following.

“It was Spot’s idea.” Race said, defensively.

“Hey, don’t bring me into this.” Spot whacked Race on the chest.

“It doesn’t matter.” Crutchie shut the door behind him. “We’re gonna be in Finch and Dave’s room. We’ll text when we’re heading back.” Crutchie’s smile implied that he knew exactly what they were doing as they left the room empty.

It was well past midnight when Jack and Crutchie were crossing back through the courtyard back to their room. Race hadn’t answered their texts and they feared they were going to see more than they ever wanted to see when they opened the door.

Crutchie walked inside and was surprised to see Spot and Race cuddled under the blankets on Race’s bed, Race’s glasses smashed against his face.

“Aw, they’re sweet.” Crutchie looked to Jack, smiling. Jack still had a hand over his eyes. “Jack, you’re ridiculous you can open your eyes.”

“You can never be too safe, Crutch. I didn’t need any new mental scars tonight.”

They decided to let the boys sleep, nobody got enough sleep at these conferences anyway. They were leaving the next morning and it’s always difficult to get up and pack when they haven’t slept all weekend. So, they were quiet as they got themselves ready for bed before they shut the light off and went to sleep.

The next morning Spot woke up confused as to where he was. It wasn’t until he saw Race standing across the room that his confusion melted away into a smile.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” Race said, his words muffled into his toothbrush. “You should probably head back to your room to pack and get ready for breakfast.”

Spot pried himself from the bed, groaning at the discomfort as he stood. “I can’t believe you guys let me sleep in my dress clothes.”

“Sorry, man, but I think there would have been bloodshed if we woke you up,” Crutchie responded as he packed his suitcase.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Spot walked to Race and pressed a kiss to his temple before leaving the room. Race was giddy as he went back into the bathroom to spit his toothpaste.

“So, things seem pretty good with you guys, what happened last night?” Jack asked.

“We did what we’re best at. We talked.”

[better-inwriting]

Everything Is Fine

Aaaand more Newsies. Enjoy another fluffy Sprace fic.

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Everything is fine. The caterers are half an hour late, the flourist sent the wrong flowers, and Albert misplaced the rings somewhere in his pigsty of an apartment, but that's okay. Race isn't worried. He's totally calm. It's. Fine.

“Great! Thanks,” Jojo hangs up the phone and turns to Race. “Crisis averted. The florists send their sincerest apologies and will be sending someone by to exchange all the flowers and they will also be returning half the cost of the original order to make up for their mistake.”

Race lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, okay. That's good. That's great. Awesome. Where are we with the caterer?”

Jojo's new look of happiness dissipated instantly. “I'll go check with Elmer and, while I'm at it, I'll call Albert and light a fire under his ass. Cool?”

Race nods, “You're the best best man ever.”

Jojo smiles and rushes out of the room. Race takes another deep breath and collapses into the nearest metal folding chair which he instantly regrets.

It's his wedding day for fuck's sake! Why was everything such a mess? Why couldn't this one day be perfect? Why couldn't the caterers be on time? Why did the florist mess up the order? Why did Albert have to lose the rings? Why-

Oh and now he's crying. Race stands up and wipes his eyes. He catches a glimpse of his reflection. He looks sick and exhausted. He runs a hand through his curls in frustration.

Suddenly the door opens and he turns to see Spot, fully dressed in his tuxedo and looking more gorgeous than ever. It then occurs to Race that he hasn't even begun to get ready. He's standing in the middle of the room in his Nike joggers with no shirt on.

Spot smiles sympathetically. “You okay?”

Race sighs. “No. This is… this is… I am-”

Spot shushes him and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “I know, baby. Breathe. Jojo is dealing with it.”

“This was supposed to be our day. The best day of our lives and now its-”

“Who says this isn't going to be the best day of our lives?” Spot asks. “Race, we're getting married. We made it through all the shit and every petty fight and here we are. We're getting married. And I love you so much.”

Race is crying again. Spot reaches up to thumb away his tears. “I love you,” Race whispers.

“Let's get you dressed, yeah?”

Though it's not a group effort, Spot helps Race get dressed in his tux. He takes every excuse he can to kiss Race. As he's tying Race's tie, he kisses him deeply the whole time, pulling away only when he's sure the tie is done well. Race is slightly surprised by that.

Jojo enters the room again just as they finish with Albert in tow, looking anxious and disheveled.

“I am so so so sorry,” Albert blurts out. “I am so sorry.”

Spot puts up a hand to stop him. “Do we have the rings?” Jojo nods. “Then it's okay.”

“And the caterers?” Race asks.

“Getting set up now,” Jojo answers. “All is well. We'll do the ceremony in twenty minutes. Are you ready?”

Race looks up at Spot and locks their fingers together. “Yeah.” Spot kisses him quickly and agrees.

Twenty minutes later, the guests are all seated and waiting. At the end of the aisle, Davey stands ready to officially marry them. Behind the big oak doors, Spot and Race stand together, hands locked with wide grins on their faces.

The fanfare begins and the two of them walk hand in hand to the altar. Around them, all their friends and supportive family stand and smile at them. There are a few tears in the crowd as well. Race is trying very hard to keep his own tears at bay. Spot is just as stoic as ever, but there's a loving glint in his eyes. He doesn't need to cry for Race to know how meaningful this is.

The reach the end of the aisle and stand facing each other before all their closest friends and family. Race refuses to let go of Spot's hands. Davey reads his prepared speech, but Race only half hears it. He's so focused on Spot. He's so in love nothing could possibly ruin this moment.

“Sean Conlon, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Anthony Higgins, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me and the state of New York, I now pronounce you husbands. You may now kiss.”

Davey isn't even done speaking when Race pulls Spot to him, kissing him like he'll lose him at any second. Spot kisses him back just as fervently.

Race pulls back and holds Spot's face in his hands. Everything is fine because he is now married to the most perfect, amazing man who he loves so dearly.