I don't have much to say except I know that the beginning is going to be fun to read.

Enjoy! :)

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"I still don't believe it."

"What don't you believe, Race?"

As Spot brought Race back to the Brooklyn newsies' lodging house, he told him his full story. Now Race is in Spot's bed, bandages off, with Spot tending to Race's wounds.

That must have been the twentieth time that Race has declared I don't believe it. At least twenty.

"You haven't been able to believe a lot of things recently, Race. You're going to have to be more specific."

Why can't people just read my mind? Race groans internally. So I don't always have to explain where my mind goes and when.

Race waves his hands around. "This. Just all of this. I mean, seriously. It's blowing my mind."

"And all of this encompasses...?"

"How complicated it all is. I mean, look at it this way. We're both girls-"

"No, Race. We were girls. We ain't anymore."

"Yeah, that's what I meant. Anyway, we were both born girls, and now we're both guys."

"Right."

"And we both experience romantic attraction to boys."

"That would be correct."

"So we're both girls presenting themselves as guys, and we're two guys who lo-" he swallows. It's too soon to save love, right? "-who like each other."

"Yeah."

"Do you hear that? It's messing with my mind. We're two guys who like each other when in reality we were both born girls."

"How many times do we need to establish that?"

"This is making my head hurt."

"Or maybe your head began to hurt during that unfair fight?"

"Maybe. Maybe when my headache goes away I'll suddenly realize that this isn't extremely profound."

"Who said it wasn't profound?" Spot replies. "It's a very strange situation. I just don't get why it seems impossible."

Race shakes his head vigorously. "Not impossible. Just a 75 to 1 shot."

Spot laughs. "You and your gambling."

"Did you forget who you were talkin' to?"

"Good point," Spot chuckles.

Race smiles. He likes it when Spot laughs.

"Hey." Spot grabs Race's hand. "I'm glad that we're two guys who like each other. Extra focus on that like each other part."

If only Race feels more than like, Spot thinks sadly. Yeah, I'm glad he has feelings for me like I do for him. But how deep does it really go?

Race grins. He glows on the inside. "I'm glad about the like each other part as well."

They stay there together in comfortable silence.

"Well, the races are over, you sold your papers," Spot starts. "Is there anything else you want to do today?"

Race shrugs. "Not particularly."

"Well, considering all that you've been through today, I think you need rest. And a break from binding."

Race shrugs again. "Sounds good to me." Then he pats the side of the bed that he's not taking up. "Stay here with me?"

Spot's heart flutters a little. "Of course." He settles down next to Race on top of the covers. "Wasn't planning on leaving you anyway."

Race gives him a lopsided smile. Spot grins back.

Race is adorable.

It takes all of Spot's might not to say that out loud.

"How do you do it, Spot?" Race asks genuinely. "How are you so at ease with your gender? How are you so calm about it all?"

Spot takes a moment. "Well, I try not to think about it all the time."

"You make it sound like it's easy."

"Well, you just need to think about it differently. I know that I'm a boy. Whether my body looks like a boy's or not doesn't define that. Yeah, it's annoying, and I'd rather not have this body, but if I don't plague myself with how it could have been, I'm better. Then, I can focus my energy into showing that I'm the boy that I feel like on the inside. And having everyone know that you're a boy makes all of it worth it."

Race's smile grows. "I like that, Spot. Thank you. I needed to hear something like that."

Spot smiles with him. "Of course. Couldn't get advice from Jackie Boy like that, could ya?"

"Nope," Race chuckles. Then his eyes widen. "Wait. You know?"

"That Jack is like us?"

"Yes!"

"I have for awhile?"

"Why didn't he ever tell me that you were like us?"

Spot shrugs. "Wasn't his secret to tell?"

"Okay, that makes sense," Race admits.

Wow, I could have known this awhile ago. It would have made so much so much easier.

We're going to have a lot to talk about when I get back to Manhattan, Jack.

"Still, you make it easy to tell that you're a boy," Race comments. "You've been fooling me for years. Well, not fooling--you know what I mean."

"Slow to catch on, aren't you?"

"Hey!" Race retorts. But now he's curious. "Did you figure out that I was like that? Before...?" he doesn't want to talk about his most recent fight.

Spot catches on easily enough. He answers honestly, "I had some suspicions. I was waiting for you to tell me yourself if it was true."

"That probably would have been never," Race admits.

"You gave yourself away with your horrible binding, though. I could tell that it was hurting you."

Race winces a little from embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm not the best at it. Or doing it safely."

Then Spot's face gets serious. "Race, you know it's important to bind safely."

Race sighs. "Yeah, I know."

"I can give you some tips. I know you already probably have plenty, but a few new ones can't hurt."

"I'd like that."

They fall into a couple moments of comfortable silence.

"I'm serious though, boy is a good look on you," Race says.

Spot smiles. "Thank you."

"You make a really attractive boy, just saying."

Race's face is not going red. Just like how he did not just say that on an impulse.

Luckily, Spot seems to like that. "Thank you. And you make a pretty boy."

Wait.

Race blinks. "Huh?"

His mind starts finding connections.

Ain't I pretty?

Spot realizes the connection too. He tries to explain himself. "I-"

"The diner..." Race beats him to it. "I thought I was imagining you nodding."

A nervous laugh. "Not imagining. I did."

A smile tugs at Race's lip. "Really?"

"Well I did think you were pretty."

Did.

"What changed?" Race asks nervously. Am I not pretty anymore? Surely not THAT much can change in a few days? Surely the Delanceys didn't beat too much prettiness out of him, did they? He doesn't know now.

What Spot says next evaporates all of Race's runaway thoughts. "I now think that you're handsome."

That gets Race to feel warm on the inside. "Really?"

"Really." Spot smiles. "Out of all the boys I could have gained feelings for, it had to be the attractive, smart, handsome gambler newsie from Manhattan."

Every word just kept getting better and better.

Race smiles so much his face begins to hurt a little bit. He feels like he's on air. Spot called him handsome. Boys are handsome. And Spot said it right then and there that he has feelings for Race.

Race doesn't want this moment to end.

"No one's said anything like that about me before."

Spot pecks Race on the lips. "Good. That makes these words extra special then."

Race blushes a little.

This. This is bliss. This is nice.

They spend a good amount of time there, being in each other's presence, talking, just being silent, everything.

"What if we saw Medda's show tonight?" Spot suggests suddenly.

"Ooh! I like that idea!"

But then there's something else.

"Wait."

"What?"

"What should I tell Jack?"

Spot thinks for a moment. "Depends. Do you want to stay here for the night after seeing Medda?"

Race swallows. "Y-yeah."

"Then I'll send a messenger over to Manhattan later telling Jack you're staying here tonight," Spot decides. "and that you're in good hands."

Race grins. "Great."

In a couple more hours, they get ready. 

By now, Race looks like he never was in a fight today.

Spot helps Race with his binding.

Race...actually isn't feeling bad about his body right now. 

He's wearing the same clothes that he normally wears, but for some reason, he's had an extra boost of confidence. And for once, that rare feeling of being comfortable in his own skin.

He doesn't know what Spot did to his mind, but he hopes that he keeps doing whatever it is.

Not too long later, they arrive at the theater.

"It looks so different now that it's not full of a bunch of newsies for a rally," Spot comments.

"But now it's full of real people, which is a whole other experience on its own," Race responds.

"What do you mean by real people?"

"I don't know--just...normal people?"

"Are you saying we're not normal?"

"I know for a fact that we aren't. We are breaking so many rules that society set for us-"

"Hey, we're here to have fun, remember?" Spot reminds him.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Come on." Spot begins to drag Race by his hand.

Suddenly, they bump into two very familiar people.

Jack and David.

"What are YOU doing here?!" all four of them exclaim at once.

"You first!" Spot shouts at Jack before anyone could say anything else.

"I'm here with Davey-" he slings an arm around David- "on a date to see Medda's show." He narrows his eyes. "So what are you two doing here? And here together?"

"I, uh, well, you see..." Race stammers. He looks away. A lot has changed since he saw Jack this morning.

Spot rolls his eyes. "We came here on a date as well. We're together now too. Like you and the Walking Mouth here."

Well that was fast. And very straightforward.

Jack's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh really?"

Race looks up at Jack shyly.

"For how long?" Jack asks.

"Like...early this afternoon, maybe?"

Jack goes silent.

"Don't worry, we know about each other," Race adds in quickly. "It's all good."

Jack continues to not say anything.

David is staying out of this one.

Jack sighs. "Just don't break each other's hearts, okay?"

They both nod vigorously, relieved at how that turned out.

"So...you guys got any good seats?" Race asks before things can end up too awkward.

Jack brightens up. "Follow me."

Not long after they get situated, Medda begins to sing.

"I'm doing alright for myself, folks. I'm healthy, I'm wealthy, I'm wise..."

Then Race remembers something.

"Hey, Jack," Race whispers in Jack's ear.

"Yeah, Race?"

"I can stay the night in Brooklyn, yeah?"

"As long as you promise to take the bandages off as soon as you get back to their lodge."

"Oh yeah, of course."

"And as long as you make it back to Manhattan tomorrow."

"Yep. Will do."

"And Race?"

"...Yes?"

"You like Spot?"

Race flushes. "Yes?"

Jack smiles. "My little brother. All grown up and finding his first love."

"I-"

Jack chuckles. "I'm just giving you a hard time." Then he nudges Race's shoulder. "Now be quiet and enjoy the show."

"Will do."

Before he completely goes silent, Race whispers to Spot, "Thanks for wanting to bring me here."

"Of course." Spot laces his fingers through Race's. "What did Jackie Boy have to say?"

"Not too much. He approves of us being together, so that's good."

"Yeah, definitely."

Race leans on Spot's shoulder, settling in. He's comfortable with his head on Spot like that.

Spot, on the other hand, is paralyzed with worry. Is he too stiff? Is Race uncomfortable? Is his shoulder too bony? Will Race pull away?

"You have a really comfy shoulder," Race comments, making all Spot's worries go away.

"I think that's the first time anyone has said that about my shoulder." Spot rests his head on top of Race's.

Together, they watch the show. And for once, everything is alright.

Because it is.

Everything is alright.

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I love fluffy endings.

There's no foreshadowing, irony, or warning there: just a fluffy ending.

I loved writing the beginning and Jack finding out about Race and Spot. Those two parts made my day haha.

I made up for making Sprace happen really fast by having them both have doubts of "does he really love me though?" Don't worry THAT'S going to be a long road haha.

So how that ended right there with Race resting his head on Spot's shoulder and Spot freaking out? Yeah, that's me and my friend. My friend assures me I have a comfortable shoulder, so all's good. They actually have fallen asleep on me before too haha.

I think it shows that Race has a lot of internalized transphobia/homophobia and pressure to conform to society, even if there is no way that he'll be able to do that. It's just in the way he talks and the things he says. Hopefully he lets the people around him change that mindset of his.

That's also why I gave him little bursts of gender euphoria here and there. :)

The part where Race says "75 to 1 shot" is inspired by the Real Racetrack Higgins saying that at the rally.

I love Medda. All versions of her. She's just so welcoming and kind (and you gotta love the pink) and she makes everyone feel safe.

This is the longest chapter so far of a little over 2100 words. I wonder if being the longest chapter is going to keep.

Well, this is how far I planned out the story. I have some little thoughts of where to go next, but no true direction. So let's hope that I when I wake up in the morning I get inspiration from somewhere haha.

Please, no homophobia or transphobia, profanities, hate etc in the comment section.

Best,

~Your Beloved Author (who should really take Spot's advice that was said earlier in the chapter about how to combat gender dysphoria, and strive to feel more gender euphoria)