them brooklyn boys⚡️sprace

If Racetrack Higgins get beat up again istg-

Before Jack could leave, two other younger kids burst in, both of them looked exactly alike. Thank god Spot and Race weren't making out this time.
"Jesus Christ have you people eva' heard of knockin'!?"
"Whoa. Why're Race and Jack here?"
Jack immediately recognized one of the kids, he met him at the strike, after he had ended Pulitzers reign of madness. He waved, and Race put a hand up. His body was too sore to get up and hug anyone, otherwise he would hug the kids. He always hugged kids, even if he didn't know em.
"Hey! What's wrong with Race?!"
"It's none of ya business. Now would ya please get out?"
Spot said through clenched teeth, getting up and trying to push the kids away. One of the younger kids shoved a note at him before scurrying off. Spot shut the door again and went back to sitting with Race.
"That was Mugs and and Mads. They's sweet, neither of em would hurt a fly. They suck at keepin' secrets though."
Spot mumbled, opening the note.
"Oh, goodie. 'S from the leader of Richmond."
"What's it say?"
Race asked, leaning up to look over Spots shoulder.
"Don't beat up kids yadda yadda we promise we is gonna pay yadda yadda."
Spot folded the note up and stuck it in his pants pocket.
"You. Out."
He said, pointing at Jack.
"You. Rest."
He turned, pointing at Race.
Spot got up with a stretch after Jack, pecking Race on the cheek.
"Byeee."
"Sleep, Racer."
Race grinned at him before Spot shut the door, turning to Jack.
"He's gotta stop gettin' himself into trouble."
Jack breathed out, placing a hand on his forehead.
"He ain't gonna. 'S in his blood. He wants to help and he's stubborn, so he ain't gonna stop until he 'as."
Spot said in reply, almost to himself.
"He's stressed."
"..'bout what?"
"Everythin'."
Jack paused, Spot motioned for him to give a little more detail.
"When Race first became a Newsie, there was a turf war goin' on. Saw way too much stuff he shouldn't 'ave. 'Specially from people he was 'supposed to be lookin' up to. Plus, his thing with you. It's illegal, he's breaking the law and trying to hide it. I can't say I'm doin' any better at it then he is-"
Spot tilted his head.
"Davey."
"No."
"Yeah, yeah. Surprisin'."
Spot smirked, playfully punching Jack on the arm.
"Okay. Get out."
Jack nodded, and started down the hall.
"See ya later Brooklyn."
"Not if I see ya first 'Hattan."
-
Time flew by. For Race at least. Spot paced around the Brooklyn lodging house the whole day worried for Race's safety. He grabbed Hotshot by the shoulder and pulled him off to the side, after he'd been back for a few minutes.
"I want ya to question every one of these boys until we find the ones who hurt Race."
"...and the Richmond kid."
"Yeah, yeah."
Spot mumbled, loosening his grip and waking away. He snuck back up to his room to check on Race, who was wide awake.
"Hi."
"Youse 'posed to be sleeping!"
Race groaned, tilting his head back.
"Ya can't be off of work forever. I'm loosin' work time because of ya too, asshole."
"I'll be back in 'hattan 3 days. Tops."
Spot gave him a bleak expression, crossing his arms. Race smiled.
"Stop tryna sweet look me. It ain't gon' work."
Race rolled his eyes.
"Ya seen my cigar?"
"Wasn't with ya."
"..'s gone?"
Spot shrugged.
"guess."
"Get me 'nother one?"
Race pleaded, turning his expression to a pout. Spot smirked, tilting his head.
"Maybe."
-
Well, Spot ended up stealing a cigar. Because he felt bad. Racetrack was practically being held hostage in the Brooklyn lodging house. It's not like Spot didn't enjoy having him there, because he did, he just thought if he was in a house full newsies he barely knew personally he'd wanna get out as soon as possible. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon on account of Race's current stability.
"Knock knock."
Spot said, kicking the door to his ( currently Racetracks) room open lightly.
"A cigar!"
Race exclaimed, catching it after Spot had tossed it.
"Youse supposed to be in Manhattan. Ya have the meeting tonight with Jack."
"Fuck that."
"Spottie-"
"Race. No. Ise stayin' here with you."
Race felt his face flush, he'd assumed that he had turned a bright shade of red.
"Don't even try to change my mind."
Spot said, with a faint glare.
Race was right, he technically was supposed to be meeting with Jack right now. Possibly Davey. He didn't feel exactly comfortable leaving the culprit of a beating in the same house as the boys would messed him up, though. Spot exhaled, quickly pecking Race on the nose.
"Guess they was right."
"Who?"
"Ya really do have a soft spot for me."
-