Newsies One Shots and Short Stories

Sprace- I Don't Care About You- Soulmate AU- Part 2

The next day Spot woke up with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It only took him a moment to figure out what had caused it. 

'Ah shit. I screwed up. Wait, no, it's fine. I don't want a soulmate and he wouldn't want me anyway. He's probably decided to just ignore me...Which is what I want...Right. 

I wonder if his number's still there...' 

He sat up quickly and glanced at his arm. Race's number was still there. He hesitated for a second before grabbing his phone and creating a new contact. He almost deleted it, but he put it down and stood up, starting his normal day. 

<^> <v> <^>

Race woke up later than usual. He had stayed up really late on the phone with Albert, telling him what had happened, then again with Crutchie. When he finally did wake up, it was almost 1:00 and he was very hungry. 

He walked into his kitchen, well his and Albert's, but Albert was out of town, so it was just his. Anyway, he was met with the unusual sight of a blond boy with a backwards baseball hat and a crutch sitting at his kitchen table, eating some of his stress-spaghetti. 

"Crutchie! What are you doing here?" 

The Ray of Sunshine looked up and smiled at him. "After our conversation last night, well, this morning, I figured you would do better if you weren't alone today." 

Race smiled slightly. "Yeah that would be nice." Then his face fell. "Wait, don't you have work?" 

Crutchie waved a hand like he was swatting a fly. "I can cash in a day off." 

"Cruuutch." Race whined. "Don't lose money because of me, I'm not worth that." 

Without missing a beat, Crutchie replied. "Yes you are." 

The two held eye contact, Crutchie silently daring Race to disagree with him. 

Finally, Race cracked a small grin and sat down. 

"Thanks Crutchie." 

<^> <v> <^>

"A'right, good form! Harley, move your right foot back a little more, good, and Piper, make that punch straight forward, lose the ark, and Ace- wait, Ace? What are you doing here?!" 

Ace walked over to Spot from the corner he'd been standing in. His usual shit-eating grin was absent, his hands were deep in his pockets, and he was looking at the ground.

Spot sighed. "Ace, what's wrong? You look like a kicked puppy." 

"I, uh." Ace said nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "I kinda wanted to talk to you?" 

"'Bout what?" Spot asked. "Gabriel! Hit the bag, not your friend." 

"I think you know." Answered Ace. 

Spot didn't look at him for a few long seconds. 

"...My class lets out in ten minutes, then I've got a lunch break. Can you wait for me upstairs?" 

Ace nodded and made his way up to Spot's apartment. 

<^> <v> <^>

Twenty minutes later, Spot and Ace were sitting at Spot's little table, eating sandwiches. 

"You still mad at me Mr. President?" Ace asked, attempting his usual tone. 

Spot looked over at him, his expression monotone. "I'm not mad Ace."

"Really? Cause you kinda seem like you are." Squeaked Ace.