Chapter Text
Race had always thought he was good at knowing things. Knowing which customers would tip. Knowing which headlines would sell. Knowing exactly how far he could push Jack before getting smacked upside the head.
Turns out he was wrong, because apparently he'd managed to miss two very important facts for what felt like his entire life.
One: he was gay.
Two: he was hopelessly, catastrophically in love with Spot Conlon.
The first realization had hit him like a freight train, the second had hit him about three seconds later.
Race sat on the edge of the bunk in the lodging house, staring at the wall whilst Jack and Albert were playing cards nearby.
"You alright?" Albert asked.
"No."
Jack glanced up. "You sick?"
"Worse."
That got both their attention causing Albert put his cards down. "What, are ya dyin'?"
Race groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"I got a problem."
"Oh God," Jack muttered.
Race looked up.
"I think..."
He immediately wished he hadn't started this conversation.
His stomach twisted.
"I think I'm gay."
Silence enveloped the three of them.
Then Jack blinked. Albert blinked. Race waited for literally any reaction.
Instead Albert said, "Yeah."
Race stared.
"...Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"That's it?"
Jack looked confused.
"What else ya want us to say?"
Race pointed accusingly.
"That's important information!"
"You only just figured it out?" Albert asked.
Race looked personally offended.
"Of course I only just figured it out!"
Albert and Jack exchanged a glance, before the pair burst into soft laughter.
Race felt his soul leave his body.
“This ain’t funny, why didn't nobody tell me?!”
Jack snorted, "What were we supposed to say? 'Hey Race, congratulations, you spend half your time starin' at Spot Conlon like he hung the moon'?"
Race wanted to disappear because that was the second problem, the much worse problem - the Spot problem. His chest tightened.
"I think I'm in love with him."
"Oh for Christ's sake."
Race looked betrayed.
"Why's everybody reactin' like this?"
"'Cause it's obvious."
"It is not obvious."
"Race, when Spot visits, who sits next to him? Who follows him around like a lost puppy? Who remembers every single thing Spot says?"
Race crossed his arms.
"That don't mean nothin'."
Albert shrugged. "You're gay. You're in love with Spot. So you gotta tell him.”
Race laughed.
A horrible, slightly hysterical laugh. But not because anything was funny. No, because every nasty thing he'd ever heard was still rattling around in his head. He'd spent years convincing himself that what he felt wasn't real. He knew exactly how ugly people could be.
"What if he hates me?"
Neither of them answered immediately. Race laughed bitterly.
Until Jack's expression softened. "Spot ain't gonna hate ya. If he would, we’d know it by now. It’s pretty obvious the guy’s glued to ya.”
Albert pointed toward the door.
"Go be in love somewhere else. I'm tired of listenin' to this."
"You're a terrible friend."
"Love you too."