Words: 1058
Warnings: minor swearing, mentions of alcohol, crying, verbal argument (I'm being really careful with these so some of them may not apply)
Ship: Modern!Sprace
Type: Angst :)
Prompt: "If you had asked me to stay, I would've."
~~~
"Then just leave!"
"I will!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
Race gritted his teeth as he slammed the door shut to his bedroom. His bedroom. Not his and Spot's. He hadn't even check to see if Spot has left.
This has been the one of many fights between the two in this week alone, and Race wasn't sure if he could take it much longer. They were out of milk? Fight. Spot forgot to take the rubbish out? Fight. Lost remote, missing sock, no coffee, fight, fight, fight. It wasn't even like Race was at fault for most of it.
Sliding down the door, he hugged himself, choking back tears that threatened to spill down his face. This was so pathetic. He didn't deserve to be upset about this, he kicked the love of his life out, and frankly he wasn't sure he'd come back if he didn't actually express how much he needed him home. Race wiped at his eyes angrily before picking up his phone to deliver the 'I'm sorry' call.
The phone rang, and rang, then,
"What?"
"Spot I—"
"No I'm not— you're not—"
"But Spot—"
"NO!"
Race snapped his mouth shut, his breathing faltering for a moment. Spot could be really scary when he wanted to and even from the other end of the receiver, Race could practically hear the other male's startled expression at his harsh tone.
"I'm... Look, I'm going to come back tomorrow but just not— just not tonight, ok?"
"Alright... be—"
"Bye."
Spot had hung up before he could finish. "—careful..." Now that really stung. Spot had outright refused to let him get a word in and... and Race didn't even get to yell at him for it.
~~~
Spot didn't come back the next day, or the next, or for the rest of the month. Race had been going out with friends more often, scrambling to get out of the pit of depression he was in. He refused to touch alcohol, not wanting to end up like his father, however he did gorge on Skittles and other candies until it made him sick which seemed to be much safer. To Race, risking diabetes was far better than risking becoming an enraged drunk. He just... lived on. Lived on without Spot, without his soulmate. And it hurt.
Mush slid a milkshake across to his part of the 'bar' and Race dipped on it gratefully. "Thanks Mush..." He muttered. He wasn't blind to the pitying smile his friend was giving him. "This time I can pay—"
"Nah, this one's on the house." He smiled softly, giving Race's cheek an affectionate pat. "Milkshakes are the best medicine."
That was another thing. Race wasn't able to bring himself to get to work. There was too many memories of Spot picking him up or dropping by to give him a gift or two while he worked out the back of a renowned Italian restaurant. A renowned five star Italian restaurant he would probably be fired from soon as he stepped foot inside its gold-lined doors. And the worst part about this whole thing is Race never stopped searching for Spot. He just couldn't let him go no matter how hard he tried.
He took another long sip of his drink, relishing in the slight chill it sent down his throat. Matched his mood. Race was so absorbed in the drink that he didn't even bother to look over his shoulder as a bell rang, signalling the arrival of another customer, instead he just tossed a sad glance at Mush who, in return, shrugged, smiling a bit. The customer sat beside Race, swivelling slightly to face Race... yeah, this was uncomfortable.
"Who forgot to feed him?"
Race's head immediately snapped up to meet the eyes of the guy who spoke. He had made it out to sound like Race was a dog and there was no way he was going to just let it go without a fight, even if it was a joke. He curled his fists, glaring slightly, as he readied to strike this asshole in the face—
"That's my bad."
And Race was being pulled away. Effortlessly lifted off his chair and carried right out to the parking lot like it was nothing. "Put me down, dammit!" Race thrashed again the new man's hold, kicking, screaming, doing anything to be put down. And the poor guy could only whisper calming words in return, a simple 'Shhh, shh, I got you' or 'calm down, you're safe' coming often. When Race refused to calm down from his shoulder, the man tipped him backwards so his hands were gripping his ankles and Race's face was close to his feet. That really shut Race up.
Race gasped, moving to hang onto his kidnapper so he wasn't dropped. "Please," he begged quietly. "Please put me down." He could hear the beat of his heart drumming in his ears as he waited. He waited so painfully long to be put down and when he was, he was sat down on the back of a familiar black Harley, cleaned and polished to perfection. There he was able to get a good look at- "SPOT?!"
The other male didn't have time to respond as the blonde launched into his arms, choked sobs coming in horrifying waves. Spot couldn't even decipher if Race was breathing as he pet his golden curls, whispering words kin to his earlier comforts.
"W-where were y-you?" Race muttered pitifully, burring his face in Spot's shoulder as his sobs died down and hiccups took over. "I n-needed you..."
Spot ran his free hand up Race's spine, a habit he couldn't shake. "I waited... you seemed pretty pissed on the phone so I waited 'til you were ready to invite me home." The answer came so effortlessly that Race had to wonder if Spot had thought about it for the month. "If you had asked me to stay, I would've."
At that Race curled further into Spot, another wave of sobs overtaking him. He was the reason why Spot didn't come home... he was the reason for his own heartbreak... it was his fault...
"I'm—"
"Shhh," Spot pecked his crown. "I'm sorry, I shoulda come home sooner... you didn't deserve me disappearing like that."
"Come back home? Please?"
And to that, Spot couldn't say no.
