#that line abt race being tactile was inspired by urs truly

[sun-kissed-star]

Could u write albert/race (platonic or romantic) w adhd!race (btw i l o v e ur fics)

thank u love, just for you here’s a fic of me projecting on race, ft. an asshole date and albert being a sweetheart

trigger warning: ableist language

~~~~~~~

“Come to the park with me on my date, he said,” Albert muttered to himself, swatting a branch out of his face. “It’ll be fun, he said.”

In any given situation, Albert would rather stab out his left eyeball with a spork than be a third-wheel on a date. It made him anxious and turned him from calm and collected to a shy, awkward mess in a matter of seconds. 

Apparently, all those things went out the window when Race was involved. Albert guessed it was fair, anyway. Race had met a cute boy named Kevin at a party, been asked out on a date, and proceeded to beg Albert to come with him. He’d barely talked to the boy and he was “too young and pretty to be murdered on a first date.” (Race’s words, not Albert’s.)

Besides, it wasn’t really third-wheeling. Not when Albert was crouched in a tree, watching Kevin slip his hand into Race’s. It was technically called stalking. 

“You having fun?” Kevin said to Race. They were sitting on a bench directly under Albert’s tree, and frankly, he considered it a miracle Kevin hadn’t looked up yet. 

“Yeah,” Race said, grinning at their linked hands. His cheeks and ears were tinged pink. “I love this park. When I was seven, my mom, my biological one, took me and my best friend Albert here. I don’t live with her anymore, I doubt she remembers it, but I broke my arm. I don’t even remember how. I mean, that wasn’t the last time I was here, that’s the only time I’ve ever broken something. My brother says it’s a miracle I haven’t cracked my head open from all the idiot stuff I do. He shouldn’t be talking, right? He’s usually the reason I do stupid stuff. Me and him went to this park a few weeks ago. Oh, his name’s Jack, I’ve got two brothers and a sister, all adopted, our poor mom. Have you met him? He was at that party we met at, but he was probably passed out on the couch.”

Race took a breath and looked at Kevin expectantly. Albert had followed the entire conversation, more than used to Race when he started rambling, but Kevin didn’t have the same expertise. He looked like a deer in headlights, scrambling to find an endpoint to Race’s story. 

“Um… you’re a foster kid?” he finally settled on saying. “Or, um, you’re adopted?”

Albert didn’t approve. 

“Yeah,” Race said. “Adopted when I was eleven. Did I mention that? Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“Um, it’s okay, you didn’t,” Kevin said. “So… what happened with your brother?” Race raised an eyebrow, and Kevin elaborated. “A few weeks ago? When you were here with him?”“Oh!” Race said, and he launched back into his story like he’d never taken a pause. “So, we dragged a trampoline to the base of a tree, and he dared me to jump off a branch and land on the trampoline. We didn’t have a helmet so we just used a pillow. Honestly, that was one of the times where I thought I’d break somethin’ else, but it was just that one time when I was seven. I had a huge scratch on my leg for a couple weeks and I’ve got a scar, but it’s not that bad.”Kevin laughed awkwardly and tucked his hands under his thighs. It was then Albert noticed that Race had pulled their hands apart and was gesturing grandly with one. The other was resting on Kevin’s knee. Race was a tactile guy, and Albert was surprised the hand hadn’t made its way to Kevin’s face. 

“You talk a lot,” Kevin said. 

Race smiled. “Ain’t the first time someone’s told me that, trust me,” he said. “You should talk to my teachers. They’d probably go on tangents longer than mine about me. My math teacher doesn’t like me ‘cause I always get the answer right, but not the way I’m supposed to get it, which is fuckin’ unfa-”

“Let’s get ice cream,” Kevin cut in, standing up suddenly and grabbing Race’s sleeve to tug him up with him.

Race smiled sheepishly as his hand moved to grab Kevin’s again. Kevin stuffed his hands in his pockets pointedly. “Okay, cool. Sorry. Just let me know if I start rambling like that and I’m bein’ annoying. I’m kind of an idiot.”

“It’s fine,” Kevin said with a grin so fake it hurt to look at. The kid was getting a solid two out of ten on Albert’s scale of “People That Deserve To Hang Out With My Friends.”

“Hey, I don’t have my wallet with me,” Race said, patting his pockets. “But I can pay you back for the ice cream. It’d be the gentleman thing to do, right?” He winked, sidling up to Kevin’s side to lean on him, and Albert forced a laugh back down his throat. 

Kevin didn’t think it was funny. When Race’s elbow raised to rest on his shoulder, he moved away. “You didn’t bring your wallet?” he said, frowning. “But I didn’t bring mine. We agreed to get ice cream a couple days ago, when I asked you out, and you said you’d pay. Remember?”

Race’s face fell when Kevin stepped back. “Oh… oh,” he said, realization dawning over his face. “Fuckin’ shit. I’m sorry, Kevin,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Albert wanted to jump down and give him a hug, but that might have had something to do with the fact that his back was permanently cramped from hunching over in the tree for so long. 

Instead of forcing a smile and saying “It’s fine,” which Albert had been expecting, the frown didn’t waver on Kevin’s face. “What’s your problem, man?” he said. “Like, I don’t wanna be rude, but you’ve spent this entire time talking about yourself and you forgot about something we agreed on two days ago.”

“I… dude, I didn’t mean to,” Race tried. “Sorry if I’m being obnoxious. I have ADHD and I’ve been out of meds since last week. I forgot to tell my mom, but she’s picking them up today.”

If anything, Kevin’s scowl deepened, which just made the situation worse. Albert could read Race’s stiff shoulders and fleeting eyes like a book. “That’s not an excuse, dude. I get that you’ve got memory problems or whatever, but we’ve all got our issues. Can’t you just… I don’t know, try harder?” 

“I -”

“Forget it,” Kevin muttered. “I’m not really in the mood for ice cream, I think I’m just gonna go home. I’ll text you or something.” He clapped a hand on Race’s shoulder. “See you later, Tony.”

From the look on his face as he walked off, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets, Albert had a feeling he wouldn’t be texting. 

He waited until Kevin had completely disappeared around the corner. He’d pulled out his phone as soon as he left Race alone, thumps tapping wildly on the screen. Albert could only pray there wouldn’t be rumors about “the weird, freckled kid that never shuts up” at school on Monday. 

He jumped down from his tree, a lot less gracefully than he would’ve prefered. Race jumped a foot in the air and whipped around as Albert sweared loudly, clutching his foot. 

“Shit, I forgot you were up there,” Race said. His shoulders slumped, and he looked more like a kicked puppy than a dejected teenage boy. “Sorry you had to listen to all that. Like, me rambling and then gettin’ ditched by Kevin and whatever.”

“Shut up,” Albert said. Hearing himself out loud, he quickly backtracked, “I-I mean, you can talk as much as you want. I just don’t want you to… you’ve said sorry too much today, Racer. It’s not your fault.”He stared intently at the hole in the toe of his Converse as he was talking, and when he looked up, Race’s eyes were red. He wasn’t quite crying, but his voice cracked when he spoke.

“Yes it is.” It sounded like he’d tried to sound angry with himself, to snap out his words like a rubber band against raw skin, but he just sounded sad. “Don’t play dumb, Albie. Kevin’s right. I talked about myself too much, and I forgot about somethin’ so fuckin’ simple, and I chased him away. Did you see his face?” he demanded. “He looked at me like I was a fuckin’ alien from Area 51, and then he left.”

As much as Albert wanted to say “Good riddance to him, then,” he didn’t think it would be appreciated. He stepped forward, Race sunk his head into his shoulder.

“I’m such an idiot,” he said, words muffled in Albert’s shirt. “And I kind of wanted that ice cream, babe, not gonna lie.” 

Albert gripped the back of Race’s neck wordlessly, knowing the pressure was grounding and comforting from how often Race did it to him. “Lucky for you,” he mumbled in Race’s ear, “I always come prepared. C’mon, dude, my brother gave me twenty bucks and I’m spending all of it before I step foot in my house.”

Race smiled against his shoulder. “What would I do without you? Seriously, would I be dead? I think I’d be dead.”

“No, you just wouldn’t have stories to tell about breaking your arm with me to asshole dates.”

“He wasn’t an as-”

“Race. You told him you had ADHD, and he told you to try harder and get over it.”

“I should’ve told him before so he’d know how much work I can b-”“If I told someone I had autism and they told me to suck it up and stop whining, would you deck them or not?”

Race lifted his head, silently pursing his lips together. “Okay,” he admitted. “He was kind of an asshole.”

Albert nodded solemnly. “The asshole to end all assholes,” he said. He was just trying to make Race laugh and they both knew it, but in his defense, it was working. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Race’s collar and ushering him towards the sidewalk. “Chocolate or vanilla?”“Both. Extra sprinkles.”

“Damn. You know I’m paying, right? Maybe you’re the asshole.”

Race laughed again, throwing his head back and an arm around Albert’s shoulders, and for the first time in an hour, all was right with Albert’s world. 

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