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“Dave, I swear, he ain’t gonna kill ya.”
“He could!”
“He won’t.”
“How do you know, Jack?”
“Cuz if he did that, I’d kill him, and then he wouldn’t have the lovely opportunity to be angry at anyone else.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“I’m not gonna talk to him.”
“You are!”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Cuz he’s like six feet of dork.”
“Yes, and you’s four feet of mad.”
“Hey! I am five feet and four and a half inches, I’ll have you know.”
“Spot. I hate ta tell ya, but only short people count the half inches.”
Spot hates Race. No, that’s a lie. He loves Race. But he also hates him. But apparently, the love outweighed the hate, because he was standing in front of the wimpiest giant he’s ever seen.
“Jack, you sure this is the guy who stole your heart?” Spot frowned at Jack, who was standing right next to the mountain.
The mammoth that was David started to make an indignant noise, but Spot glared and the kid shrunk back down again until he was behind Jack.
“Yes, I am sure, Spotty,” Jack attempted to frown but instead fought back a grin. “This wonderful man right here outsmarted me with wits, and I fell.” He smiled fondly at the behemoth, and the behemoth smiled back. Spot wanted to throw up.
“Ah, quit makin’ that face. We’s just as lovey dovey as them, and you know it.” Race whacked Spot on the back of the head, and Spot frowned up at him. Anyone else, and they would be dead. He let Racer get away with too much.
“So, go on, go on,” Race gave Spot’s backpack a little shove in the general direction of the giant with a grin, not unlike a parent sending their child off to the first day of kindergarten. Jack (less lightly) shoved the monster, ramming him into the direction of Spot, the guy holding his feet like brakes the entire time.
This was going to be just fantastic.
David was not a wimp. David was not scared of many things. Babysitting Les for the first time? He was great at it. Transferring to a new school? Yeah, he was worried, but he handled it like a champ. Finally kissing Jack? Admittedly, he was scared.
But talking to Sean Patrick Conlon? Fucking terrified.
“Is it true he killed a guy?” David had paced the floor of an empty classroom while Jack lounged in a chair, laughing at him.
“Nah,” He waved a hand. “He just threatens to ‘a bunch, but he’s an old softie on the inside.”
“What if we just never found out about the ones he’s actually killed? How do you know Jacky? How do you know?” David had halted in front of the desk and put his hands on either side, tilting down until he was face to face with his boyfriend.
“Please, he’s in love with Race, he’s a fuckin simp.” Jack had leaned forward to kiss his nose before getting up and grabbing his backpack. “Just do it for me baby, would’ja?”
And who was David if he didn’t completely melt at anything Jack asked of him.
So now he was here. Sitting at a table in the library across Sean Patrick Conlon. Making nice with the Two Foot Tall Terror because his boyfriend had asked him to. Why did Race choose this guy, of all guys? Why did Jack choose Race to be his best friend? The world may never know.
“So,” Sean grunted. “You’re tall.”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.” David sat ramrod straight in his seat, palms sweating. “You’re… short?”
“The fuck you say?” Sean suddenly leaned forward and hissed.
“Uh, never mind! Very tall. You are. Yes.” David practically yelped, scooting his chair back with an audible squeak.
“Hm, ’s what I thought.” Sean leaned back again, practically slouching.
A minute of awkward silence filled the air. God, this is torture, David groaned internally.
“So… whaddya wanna work on first?” Sean muttered, finally pulling out his textbooks.
“Well,” David finally relaxed a little and decided against bolting. He definitely very smoothly took out his own books, and for sure did not drop them all over the floor before stumbling to pick them up. “I’m doing pretty well in AP Lit right now, if you want help with that, but I have like a D+ in Calc.”
“I suck at writing, can we do that first?”
David smiled, relieved. Finally, something he was actually good at. “Sure, Sean, let’s do English.”
This wasn’t… terrible. No one else had been able to help Spot grasp the writing stuff, but David was actually pretty good at it. He would ask the teacher, but he hated the teacher. And adults. And any leadership figure. He tried getting Race to help him, but they always ended up doin'... other stuff. He would ask Hot Shot, but Hot Shot would just call him a nerd.
All in all, the guy was bein’ helpful, and he had finally stopped flinching every time Spot leaned forward to write. Progress, people. Progress.
“Hey,” Spot jerked his head up, snapping David out of his focus. “Why’d ya call me ‘Sean’ earlier?”
“Uh, that’s your name, right?” Uh oh. David started getting that wild eyed nervous look again.
“I mean, yeah,” Spot shrugged. “But like, no one calls me that. None of my friends, anyway.”
“Wait,” David put his pencil down. “We’re friends?”
Spot could see why Jack fell for this kid. He had the whole doe eyed thing goin’ on. Fuckin’ Bambi.
He grinned despite himself. “Yeah, I guess we’re friends. Only if you quit callin’ me ‘Sean’, though. I hate that name.”
“Fair enough.” David smiled. “Hey, could we switch to Calc? I’m kind of dying, and my brain is stuffed with enough words for now.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Race is confused. There are many things he can expect in life. Jack being a dumbass? Of course. Pigs flying? Sounds plausible. Dave and Spot walking out of the library laughing? Race is stunned.
Jack and Race give each other a glance before lookin' at their boyfriends bein'… friendly. With each other. Spot and Dave. Bein' nice? Maybe Race had too many Mountain Dews. It’s happened before.
“So, uh, Spotty, how was the homework date?” Race skipped over to his boyfriend cautiously.
“Shut up, it wasn’t a date. I’m datin’ you, dumbass,” Spot mumbled, giving Race a peck on the cheek.
“Spot didn’t kill ya, did ‘e?” Jack smirked as Dave walked over and grabbed his hand.
“Hey!” Dave cried, indignant. “I could have fended for myself.”
“Sure ya could’ve, Davey.”
Dave harrumphed while Spot lightly punched him and said, “I think it would be a fair fight. I mean, I’m stronger, but yer taller.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
“So, the date went well?” Race asked Spotty with a hopeful smile.
“It’s not a-” Spot scowled before sighing. “Yes, the homework date went well. Next time, though all four of us are meetin’ up. There’s only so much dork I can take.”