Archive of Our Own

Money changes people. Sonny knew this. He just didn’t expect it to ever be a problem for him. Growing up, he never really thought about money. Everyone else was struggling just as hard as Usnavi and Abuela Claudia, so Sonny didn’t realize that for a lucky few, finances were never an issue. When he got older and started going to school, at Usnavi’s insistence, and learning about other places and lifestyles, that’s when it really hit home. Middle school led to high school, and Sonny had only been money conscious for six or seven years, but once his eyes were opened, the difficulties were obvious. Usnavi’s desperate attempts to pay field trip dues, to buy school supplies, to fix broken appliances by hand before giving up and calling a mechanic, they all but smacked him in the face. With the new understanding came the stress, the fear, the shame. Money sucked ass, Sonny thought. At least, it did when you didn’t have any.

But that wasn’t an issue anymore. Usnavi had two fat stacks of bills in a safe bolted under the bed, and one stack had Sonny’s name on it. Actually, it had a old receipt rubber-banded around it, with a single word scrawled in black Sharpie: TUITION. And that was almost worse than being poor.

Tuition meant college. College meant traveling somewhere far away from home and facing the responsibility and expectations of the entire barrio. He’d seen Nina struggle under the weight of a neighborhood’s hopes and dreams. Sonny had also seen how she had responded, with lies and hiding away on people’s couches, avoiding contact with her family. Sonny wanted independence so badly it physically hurt sometimes, like the nights when Usnavi was playing parent again and ordering him around or disciplining him. That’s when Sonny couldn’t wait to be free and living on his own. But at the same time, the idea of being so far away that he couldn’t see his older cousin, or hear Benny ringing the bodega bell early every morning with a teasing call to the backroom, or smell the acrid smell of aerosol paint as Graffiti Pete sprinted away at the sound of Usnavi’s hollering, that was almost worse. 

“I’ve been domesticated,” Sonny groaned, collapsing onto the counter stool in the bodega. He lazily reached out a hand to turn the miniature fan toward his sweaty face, the plastic clicking dangerously.

“If by domesticated you mean ‘conditioned to never show up to work on time,’ then yes, you have been,” Usnavi grumbled, spinning the fan back towards himself. Sonny smashed his damp forehead to the cooler countertop, and the movement hit his hat brim and tipped it. Usnavi slapped at him limply. “Oi. Get your greasy forehead off my work surface. You’re gonna leave streaks. In fact, look! Look, you did. Go grab a bottle of Windex, and clean this up.”

Sonny stomped into the backroom, where the humidity noticeably increased. He slid around half-opened boxes, squeezing between teetering piles of stock and various cleaning supplies. After knocking over no less than a broom, a stack of Kit-Kats, and a couple packaged harmonicas, he reached the repurposed white medical cabinet that housed the chemicals. The hinges squeaked but complied, revealing a dusty interior.

“Clean spot,” Sonny grumbled, swiping a finger through the oblong dust-free area where the Windex should have been. He would have knocked his head against the cupboard in frustration, but his acne was bad enough without the added component of dirt in his pores. He settled for dampening a rag in the chipped ceramic sink that had been home to boxes of cigarettes until he had relocated them. 

Walking back out front felt glorious. The previously stifling shop air seemed pleasantly cool compared to the circulation-less stockroom. At the register, Usnavi was chatting with Yolanda in rapid-fire Spanish. Sonny threw the wet rag onto the countertop, where it made a pleasing splat. Normally, the sound would have put some spring in his step, but the elation was doused by the death glare Usnavi shot his way. Sonny started wiping down the counter with a weak excuse for a scrubbing motion. By the time Yolanda had bought her Hershey bar and eaten it at the register in a race against the heat melting it, Usnavi had grabbed the rag himself and was giving the surface the buffing it needed. She walked out the door with a swish of her hips and the jangling of the bell, and out of sight of paying customers, Usnavi took the chance to sling the wet cloth into Sonny’s surprised face.

“Yo! Man, what the--” Sonny yanked it off and shot it back at top speed, hitting Usnavi in the shoulder. It left a dark, damp spot that trailed all the way down to his underarms. “Whoo! Usnavi, you gotta bad pit stain there, cuz’!” Sonny cackled, already looking for cover behind a magazine rack. A display of granola bars directly behind him took the damage instead, and Sonny whipped the rag, now covered in detritus from the store, with lightning precision, but Usnavi anticipated it and ducked, sticking out his tongue. The wet rag slapped the glass of the closed door, sliding down to reveal an amused Daniela. She hip-checked the door open and picked up the cloth herself between two fingers, an arm’s length away.

“Are you two done? I’ve been kind enough to bring my business here and not to the CVS Pharmacy down the street, so let’s see some professionalism.” Her smirk supported what her teasing tone already implied, but Usnavi snapped into business mode anyway.

“Yes, ma’am. What can I get for you?”

“I need a Pepsi, and some of those little bags of water you keep in your freezer box.”

“Pepsi’s a dollar fifty. Homemade ice packs are complimentary.”

“I’ll take one too,” Sonny piped up, disappointed he’d lost his fun time with his cousin.

“For you, they’re five dollars each,” Usnavi shot back. “And start wiping some shelves or something. Make yourself useful!”

Daniela had moved to stare at something outside the storefront windows. “Does stopping vandalism count as useful?” she asked snidely, just as the metal rattling of a spray can being shaken permeated the heavy air.

“Damn that little-- Sonny, stop your delinquent excuse for a friend before I get to the phone and dial 9-1-1! I let him paint my grate, not my front windows.”

Thrilled to be released from manual labor, Sonny vaulted an end-cap of diapers and leaped for the door. He was too late; a long black arc had already swished down the glass, and Graffiti Pete was doubling back, darkening and broadening the stroke by the time Sonny got a hand on his shoulder.

Pete’s cry of “Sonny!” was dampened by the handkerchief tied over his face. He pulled it down and grabbed Sonny’s hand, dragging him into a chest-bump. Sonny couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“Usnavi’s real pissed, yo. He’s gonna make you scrape that off ’til the window’s cleaner than before you tagged it.”

“Eh,” Graffiti Pete shrugged. “I run fast enough, and it’ll be you, not me, cleanin’ this off.” He grinned and aimed the spray can again, dragging out a stylistic “UDLV” on the pane.

“I’m supposed to be stopping you from doin’ that.”

“You’re doin’ a good job, too.”

Pete was smiling, and Sonny felt his own threatening to stretch out his face as well. Graffiti Pete was his best friend in the barrio. He had a fairly sizable friend group at school, but they lived all over the city and never really bothered to meet up outside of class. As for Pete, Sonny spent most of his free time at home with him. The two had grown up together, back when Abuela Claudia was housing both Usnavi and Sonny. She had also been caring for Pete, whose parents had up and moved one day, with no forwarding address, no explanation, and no accommodations for the son they left behind. The two boys had hit it off well, what with Sonny’s parental past. 

Sonny’s parents had followed Usnavi’s to America, ten years afterward, and his mother had given birth right there in New York. But when Usnavi’s mother and father passed away from illness, Sonny’s got cold feet and headed back. Due to his birthplace, Sonny was a US citizen, and they’d left him there, insisting he would have a better future in New York. He was, perhaps foolishly, placed in the care of a nineteen year old Usnavi, desperately trying to fend for himself and his new charge by running his parents’ bodega. Sonny wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive his parents for abandoning him, and Abuela Claudia had frequently expressed her disapproval of their decision, but she’d helped Usnavi become his legal guardian, and then she’d help raise the two of them, which was when Sonny had met Pete. 

Staring at the now eighteen year old vandal, Sonny recognized Pete’s playful mood and reached out to give him a friendly punch on the arm, but Pete dodged back and let his spray can hiss black spittle onto the outstretched fist. 

“Back off! I’m armed!” Pete laughed, spray can held high like a weapon. Sonny was swiping at the paint on his hand, effectively smearing it up to his wrist, when the shop door swung open.

“Hey! Is my grate not good enough? You gotta tag up my whole bodega and my cousin while you’re at it? Take this window scraper. I want your initials off my window pronto, or I’ll limit the amount of time you have to let your bad influence rub off on Sonny.”

Graffiti Pete sighed and caught the preordered scraper.

“Man, they aren’t even my initials. They’re yours.”

“I don’t care whose they are. Get scraping, and I want that back when you’re done with it. Sonny, you got sixty seconds to get behind that counter,” Usnavi called, walking back inside.

“Shit, Sonny. You paint a tribute to a matriarch and keep the guy from flyin’ away from the closest thing he has to home, and he still won’t warm up to you.”

“Nah, I think you’re winning him over. He didn’t swear even once today.” Sonny was suddenly hyperaware of the sweat rolling down the back of his loose tank. “I gotta get back to work. See you later? I get off at eight if you wanna hang.”

“Sure thing,” Pete nodded. He started scraping at the bottom of the D. “You should get inside before he fires you.”

They shared one more laugh at the sarcasm, and then Sonny was walking back into the humid hell of the bodega. From inside, the squeaks and scratches of paint removal seemed excessively loud, filling the store. After ten minutes, the constant rhythm started to lull Sonny to sleep. Usnavi wasn’t faring much better, eyelids heavy and head bobbing. By the time the window was clear, and Pete was returning the scraper, they were each leaning against one another, ignoring the way the sweat made their skin stick. Usnavi chucked the window scraper in the general direction of a box behind the counter, and waved Pete off. He slunk out the door, mouthing, “See you at eight,” to Sonny.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Benny and Nina stopped by, tangled together like only the newly in love could be, a girl from one of Sonny’s classes came by for a bag of sunflower seeds, and a tourist couple raced through to buy a pair of deodorants. 

Vanessa swung in the doors exactly ten minutes to eight, talking distractedly on her cell phone but with enough time to shoot a winning grin in Usnavi’s direction. Sonny’s eyes were trained on the clock, watching the second hand make the long, arduous journey around the face. Vanessa hung up with a pop of her gum and a synchronized sigh and hip jut combo. The already muggy air seemed to gain a second tension. Her eyes met Usnavi’s, but instead of smiling back, he looked guilty. Vanessa narrowed her gaze, and even Sonny wanted to flinch back from its intensity.

“Usnavi. You didn’t talk to him, did you,” she said evenly. Sonny’s defenses rose rapidly as he sensed his involvement in the conversation.

“We were busy. I didn’t get a chance; I meant to, of course, but I just—”

Vanessa cleared her throat and spun Usnavi on his stool so he was facing in Sonny’s direction. A shifting shadow outside marked the arrival of Graffiti Pete, and he felt desperate to run out and join him, in an attempt to avoid this conversation.

“Sonny,” Usnavi croaked, after Vanessa prodded him to start talking. “I know you know that you have, you know, a bunch of that lotto money sitting around, and it’s gonna be for your college tuition someday, right? Well, I’ve been talking to the Rosarios, who have of course been talking to Nina, who told me to tell you, that if you’re really gonna make it out of here, you gotta get accepted into a good university.”

Sonny twitched hard, and sat up, ramrod straight. A nauseous curl of nerves crept into his stomach. He didn’t want to talk about college. He didn’t want to talk about school. He absolutely did not want to talk about the pressure of education expectations that was currently seated on his shoulders.

Usnavi pressed on anyway, “Now I’m not gonna make you go for a big ivy, or like, Stanford for instance. I do want you to get into one that’ll teach you what you need to know and that’ll prepare you well for life afterward, of course. So, in order to do that, you’re gonna need to buckle down on harder classes.” Sonny attempted to interrupt, but Usnavi just raised his voice and kept going. “You need to actually do your homework, get your grades up. Take things seriously! You have a shot at getting out of the barrio and at getting a higher education, and don’t you dare take that for granted. Sonny, this is your big chance, your shining moment! Don’t let hanging around Graffiti Pete and ditching school to mess around all day distract you from the goal.”

He couldn’t breathe. The air was clogging his throat. A weird twitch in his brain was reminding him how close Pete was, standing just outside, how close freedom was, right on the other side of that door. The rest of his brain was stuck in an endless loop of wanting to make a difference but not wanting to go through school to make it. The bodega felt too small; the humidity was as oppressive as the meaningful stares of Usnavi and Vanessa. Sonny understood. He really did, but it was too much too fast. If Usnavi had been staring him down, begging him to stand on a picket line and face tear gas and rubber bullets to campaign for what was right, Sonny would have been on his feet in a heartbeat, begging Pete for paint to spray himself a sign to carry. This though, he couldn’t handle. Usnavi and Vanessa telling him to represent the entire barrio by dragging himself through school with high grades and impressive classes? He’d never been the best in school, with too many dreams in his head to make room for book learning. Some information he absorbed like a sponge, but school had never been his strong suit. Not like Nina. Nina, who made it out on brain power and a commitment to success, was a completely different story from Sonny, who couldn’t make it through on martyr fantasies and a lack of self-preservation alone.

“Hey, kid, are you alright?” Vanessa asked with a crook of an eyebrow. She straightened from her lean on the counter and took a step toward him. It was the last straw for Sonny, and he snapped and sprinted.

“I’ll be home late!” he shouted, peeling out the door and racing for Graffiti Pete’s shadow. The bell on the door clanked and rattled as he made his escape, Usnavi’s panicked cries for him to wait be damned.

Pete was leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone with one paint smeared hand while the other idly flipped a spray can. Sonny snatched him by the wrist and dragged him down the street at top speed.

“Yo, Sonny, what gives, man?” Pete choked out, pulling his hand free but keeping pace with ease.

“Shut up, and run,” Sonny spit, and they didn’t stop running until they were far from the bodega, sweaty and gasping for air. Pete was clutching his sides and wheezing as Sonny doubled over and flopped on his back on the warm pavement. They were both silent, eventually moving to sit on the curb, until the streetlight they were sitting under flicked on, casting a yellow glow around them.

“Now, you know I’m all about some good evening cardio, but you wanna tell me what that was about?”

Sonny winced and whipped off his hat, bouncing it in shaky hands. “Usnavi wants me to work harder in school. Says I gotta get my grades up for college apps. He’s tryin’ to turn me into another Nina, and I already know I’m too fucking dumb to measure up.”

Pete scooted closer and pulled him into a quick side-hug. “He’s not tryin’ to turn you into someone else. He just wants what’s best for you. It’s Usnavi. You know that. He knows you’ve got more potential than you’re showin’.”

“That’s bullshit. I hate school. Jesus, I’m a hypocrite, I swear. I preach about educating barrio kids, but I don’t wanna do it myself. College isn’t for me, Pete.”

“Sonny.” Pete grabbed him by the shoulders and wrestled him down to meet his gaze. “You’re the smartest guy I know. You know shit I’ll never understand, and you learn things faster than I can paint a straight line. And yeah, college isn’t for everyone. Sometimes because they can’t afford it. Not your problem anymore. Sometimes because it’s just not right for them. You still got time. Figure yourself out and do your thing, Sonny, and know I’ve got your back.” 

Sonny yanked away, running a hand through wet, limp curls and jamming his hat back on. “Thanks, Pete,” he muttered. He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, kicking gravel around in the gutter. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Graffiti Pete leaped to his feet, eyes sparkling and a hand extended to help Sonny up. “I’ve got a new topic. Wanna tag a wall?”

Sonny couldn’t grab his hand fast enough.

It was almost two in the morning by the time Sonny stumbled into his apartment. He was covered in a thin layer of paint from the fine mist that blew back from the wall he’d helped tag. Pete had dragged him to an alleyway, ending in a black dumpster, behind which a freshly whitewashed wall sat ready for the taking. By the light of a phone, Sonny had grabbed and shaken the colors, handing them off to Pete as requested. They’d taken a few minutes to enjoy the dripping, rainbow “GP,” before packing up and heading back.

It was late, and since the bodega opened early at six that day, Sonny didn’t expect Usnavi to be awake, but he was. He sat on the shoddy dark green couch, slowly eating crackers and cheese as late night television cast an odd blue glow on his face. The goatee threw crisscrossing shadows around his mouth, so Sonny couldn’t tell if his cousin was smiling or frowning. Without turning away from the screen, Usnavi apologized, “I didn’t mean to freak you out. Vanessa and Nina have been trying to push me to talk to you about college for a few weeks now, and I thought it was a bad approach, but Vanessa said it’d work out, and I’m sorry I listened to her, because I know how you think and process, and of course dumping that whole load on you at once was an awful idea; I mean you’ve been working all day, and it’s hot, and I didn’t get to say it how I wanted to say it, so can—”

“Usnavi. Chillax. It’s cool, it’s cool. I just… I’m not Nina. I’m never gonna be a Nina, and I don’t think I have what it takes to do what you expect me to do.”

“Which is why I shouldn’t have listened to Vanessa. She’s great, but she doesn’t know you like I do. You’re my little cousin, not her’s. Come here.” He manhandled Sonny onto the couch next to him, directly in the blast of air conditioning, making the skin to skin contact bearable. “I don’t want any more out of you than you have to give. I just, I just want your full potential. I know you ditch class and don’t do all your homework. You can do so much more than you let yourself, Sonny.”

“Thanks, ‘Navi.” Sonny pulled away, yawning, and Usnavi slapped at him.

“Now go take a shower. I don’t even wanna know what poor wall got defaced tonight.”

The cousins grinned at one another, and then Sonny stumbled away to clean up. He washed off the spray paint and college-related stress all at once, fogging up the tiny bathroom. The colors swirled together down the drain, and exhaustion crept up in his head, making his thoughts hazy. Sonny didn’t bother with a towel, sweat already accumulating again on his skin, and he slipped into a baggy t-shirt and boxers before flopping into bed. The AC clanked outside his bedroom window, sirens wailed in the distance, and someone yelled a few streets over. It was perfectly soothing, and he fell asleep to the sounds of his city.

He woke up to the sound of someone knocking on said window, and Sonny dragged his pillow over his head and tried to go back to sleep. The visitor grew impatient and kicked out the screen to slide right in, and the accompanying chemical odor indicated it was Pete.

“Sonny! Sonny! Fuck man, it’s almost noon! Usnavi’s gonna kick your ass. Come on, you gotta go!”

“Shit, I was supposed to start at seven! I didn’t set an alarm,” Sonny croaked, falling out of bed as his uncoordinated limbs tried and failed to lift his body. “He’s gonna take it out on you for keeping me up late.”

Pete scoffed with fake indignation. “Why you gotta blame it on me? He hates me enough already.”

“Get out of my room! I need to get dressed! I’ll be at the bodega in ten.”

Graffiti Pete stuck out his tongue but left, snapping the screen back in behind him.

It took Sonny eleven minutes and forty-five seconds to get down to the the store. Usnavi proceeded to chew him out for thirteen minutes and seven seconds. He hadn’t been at work for even a half an hour, and the day already sucked. Pete couldn’t hang around to keep him company, choosing instead to hide away from Usnavi’s wrath, so Sonny grew incredibly bored. He was working on an interesting sculpture of gum packets and lighters when Nina slipped in, alone for once. 

The joking facade slipped back on with ease, and Sonny was flirting and waggling his eyebrows until his face was sore. It wasn’t quite the same, knowing she was involved with Benny, but it was a welcome routine all the same, and she humored him as she usually did.

“Aren’t you a little young to be going after college-age girls, now?” she teased, pinching his cheek. 

Sonny sat back and rubbed at his face with a pout. “We’re like, four years apart. That’s not even that much.”

“Well, if you’re going after girls my age, you’re going to have to wait until you’re college-age first yourself.”

Sonny felt ill again. College, school, grades… It was summer! He didn’t want to think about those things. Nina must have seen the look on his face, because she changed the conversation and made her purchases, a bottle of juice for herself and a Milky Way to take to Benny.

“Sonny, aren’t there any girls your age for you to use your powerful flirtation techniques on?” She smiled at him casually, clearly trying to salvage the earlier botched conversation.

He shrugged it off. “Not really. They don’t talk to me very much. I don’t really interact in class, and no one ever wants to hang outside of school.”

“Maybe if you stopped spending every free moment of your time with Graffiti Pete, you’d have time for a social life,” she laughed, and the sight and sound of it still made him weak at the knees, or maybe that was the heat. “Just a thought. Enjoy your afternoon, Sonny!”

He waved at her as she left, but his brain was in turmoil again. He adjusted the fan to hit his face better and started freestyling into it to hear how it distorted and warped his voice. Sonny had a pretty good flow going, and the store was empty, and the heat was letting up just a little. If Usnavi could get over his accidental sleeping in, it would be a pretty good day. Every precious one counted too, what with the beginning of his junior year rapidly approaching. The summer had flown by in a haze of too many bodega shifts, the blackouts, Abuela’s passing, and of course the fucking lottery. Everything was that money’s fault. No one had pressured him about college before when they had thought they were too poor to ever send him. But now a wad of cash was changing those possibilities. It would be better used to send some other kid to school. Maybe Usnavi would let him donate it instead. Or maybe he could use it to improve someone’s living conditions, or buy new technology for the local schools, or…

“Who am I kidding,” Sonny groaned and sprawled out on the counter. His head was a swirling mess of classes for the next year, and how hard it would be to actually try in them. Usnavi only wanted his full potential, but he was bound to be disappointed when he saw how small it actually was. Everyone said he was a hard-worker, but he really didn’t see that same quality in himself.

Like any dreaded event, the start of school came faster than it had any right to, and Sonny’s schedule was a tangle of honors and one advanced placement class, in U.S. government. The first few days went great. With his work hours greatly reduced, he had plenty of time to come home and lay into the homework and readings, but by the second week, the motivation was gone, and he lay on the fire escape above the bodega, gesturing to Pete to climb up and join him. When the pair was situated comfortably, high above the ground, Pete lit up a joint and passed it Sonny’s way, mumbling about how he needed to relax. The smoke curled around them and faded away in the air. The humidity screamed summer, but the falling temperatures hinted at autumn.

The Piragua Guy’s cart jingled around below them, and Usnavi appeared on the sidewalk, sweeping dust and trash off the curb. He paused to gaze longingly at the boarded-up salon next door, then returned to work. Pete laid down on his stomach, closing his eyes and poking at Sonny’s leg until he budged over enough to accommodate them both.

He hadn’t talked to Graffiti Pete in almost the entirety of the two weeks of school thus far, and he’d missed him. The words to express this were unattainable, and Sonny’s baked attempts at speaking were swallowed up by his loose muscles and the creeping sleepiness that was covering him. This was comfortable, so much better than cramped desks and academic routine. Life was for laying on a metal fire escape with a best friend, just a little too high for proper function and disappointments forgotten.

“You’re gonna do great, man. Like, you’re gonna go out there and say, ‘I don’t think I can do this,’ but then you do, and they’re like, ‘wow.’” Pete swirled a finger midair and jabbed it in Sonny’s direction. “I trust you. You’re real smart.”

Words weren’t quite making sense, and there was a feeling of dizziness curling in Sonny’s brain somewhere, but Pete’s face showed how sincere he was.

As week three of classes started up, Sonny used that mental image, of Pete with a lazy grin and half-lidded bloodshot eyes, but an expression of awe and belief, to power his way through assignments. His teacher gave him an odd look as Sonny pulled the preliminary class paper for English out of his folder and added it to the stack. His math teacher almost walked past his desk when collecting problem sets, but Sonny thrust his forward just in time for collection. It was the same across the board. Teachers that had heard about his chronic laziness were seeing actual work being turned in, on time and complete, as well. Usnavi slid in the apartment door on week five, clearing trying to hide his shock at the sight of Sonny sprawled on the floor, reading a textbook and eating gummy worms. He didn’t even bother to remind him that those cost a dollar and ten cents.

It wasn’t easy; Sonny was definitely struggling. By junior year the only kids left in school were those who intended to finish or had parents forcing them to attend, but the AP and honors classes were packed with college-bound try-hards, and he could hardly compete. Before, without any effort, he’d been making straight C’s, but now, working his ass off, he was still making the same grades. It was infuriating and exhausting.

The AP Gov test sat on his desk as the clock ticked away overhead, and Essay Question 1 was no closer to being finished than it had been five minutes earlier. Sonny chewed at his eraser, ignoring his shaking hands, and the answer refused to come to him. He could almost see the pages of his textbook in his mind, but the words were illegible, and he couldn’t remember what he’d been reading about the question’s topic. He did remember the night he’d smoked with Pete and even though he’d had a good time, it clearly hadn’t helped his study habits. The teacher called out a ten minute warning, and Sonny started to breath faster. A ball of fear clenched in his stomach, made him feel ill, and traveled up into his throat. His muscles clenched and he felt faint from lack of oxygen. The urge to run seized in his brain, and before he could snatch a second of rational thought, Sonny was sliding out from his desk and bolting for the door. Students swiveled to stare as he struggled with the knob, and it was too much input for him to process. The teacher called his name, but the static in his ears muffled it. The door finally clicked open, and he stumbled through, sprinting for outside. He was crouched on the concrete steps, gulping wet, humid air cooled by the breeze, when it occurred to him that he might be dying. It felt like it. His heart was on overload and seemed seconds from giving out. His vision was blurred and sweat was pouring off his forehead. Sonny let himself tip against the wall and prepared to blackout.

As he waited for his body to stop functioning, the door opened, and his teacher stepped out. She approached him as if he were a spooked animal, something he’d doubtlessly have been offended by if he wasn’t so busy trying to keep the sheer terror from pulsing in his chest.

“I think I’m dying,” he spit from between gritted teeth. “I don’t know… what happened…”

His teacher made a soft noise and squatted beside him. “Sonny, I think you need to go see the school nurse. This looks like an anxiety attack to me.”

He heard a thin whine squeeze out of his throat. “I can’t breathe…”

She shushed him, and slowly reached over to touch him. When he didn’t flinch away, she started rubbing circles on his back, counting for him to inhale and exhale with. The panic ebbed to a ball in his gut, and it was enough for him to uncurl. As he was led to the nurse’s office, his mind swirled desperately. Anxiety attack? He’d never had one before. Was it the test? Sonny supposed he’d never actually tried so hard on tests before. It used to not matter if he knew an answer or not; if he didn’t remember, he would just think up a clever joke to write instead and humor the grader.

He sat and stared at the posters on the office wall, warning against smoking cigarettes or unsafe sex. The lights were too bright, and the sounds of the office ladies chattering outside were loud in his ears. A soft knock made him look up, and Usnavi stood in the doorway, shifting worriedly. Silently, Sonny stood up and went with him to check out, before they walked out the doors and headed for the taxi parked at the curb. Benny was behind the wheel, tapping it nervously. They both asked Sonny how he was feeling, to which he just shrugged and shook his head. Someone had given Usnavi his backpack, but Benny carried it up to the apartment for him.

Sonny went straight to his bedroom and collapsed into his bed, barely making time to kick his shoes off. Usnavi came in and turned off the light, shooting him a brave smile and promising to let him know when dinner was served. The door clicked shut, and Sonny felt so tired that he was certain he’d pass out immediately. Then the whispers started.

“I don’t know what to do, Benny. I’m trying to do right by him, but I feel like everything I do is wrong. I used to let him ditch class to hang out with Graffiti Pete, and I ignored the fact he wasn’t doing his homework, because he’d been passing all his classes, but then Nina is telling me I need to keep him on task if he’s going to get into a good college, but he’s still a kid, no matter what he thinks! And you know him. He’ll talk anybody’s ear off. He needs a social life, but he’s not connecting with the others in his new classes. They’re all academic, and he’s never been with them before, and all his old friends aren’t spending time with him, because they never see each other. But when I do make him work hard, he has a panic attack, so what do I do? What am I supposed to do?”

“Yo, yo, calm down. You’re doing your best. I know that, and I’m sure he knows that. You couldn’t have known this would—.”

“But I could have! I’ve been watching it happen. He’s withdrawn, Benny. He doesn’t do anything but study and work, and he’s been doing poorly on tests, and I think he’s discouraged. I’ve seen the signs, but he’s working, so I ignored it.”

Sonny drew himself under his blankets, despite the heat. That ball of terror was still sitting in his ribcage, knocking from time to time. He didn’t need to hear this, his cousin beating himself up for something that wasn’t even his fault. He wanted to see Pete. Pete, who he hadn’t seen more than once or twice in two weeks. He missed the summer, when they’d hung out almost every night, much to Usnavi’s frustration. He missed having friends who would laugh at his antics or talk about things that weren’t school-related. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” he bit out, grinding his palms into his eyes. They burned and tried their damnedest to disobey, but willpower won out in the end. Fuzzy-headed, Sonny finally dozed off and slept fitfully until Usnavi knocked to announce food.

Dinner was awkward, sitting side-by-side on the couch, two microwavable mac and cheeses propped on their laps. The air was heavy with tension as Usnavi stole sideways glances from time to time. When they were done eating, he cleared his throat and turned to face Sonny determinedly.

“You don’t have to go to school tomorrow. Take a day. It’s called a mental health break. Nina takes them too, according to Benny.”

“Thanks, ‘Navi,” Sonny sighed, already imagining a day spent asleep in bed.

“I uh, I saw Graffiti Pete in front of the bodega today. Asked how you’ve been. I told him you might be free tomorrow.”

Sonny actually smiled at that. “Yeah, I’d be down.”

“If you ever want to talk about today, you know where to find me. I’ll close the shop early, and we can sit and drink cola champagnes. The regular kind. Not diet.” Usnavi opened his arms wide, and Sonny couldn’t help himself, reaching in for a tight hug. His older cousin breathed out heavily into his curls. “I just wish Abuela was still here. She’d know what to say.”

“Well, you’re not doing too bad yourself,” Sonny reassured him. Then he grabbed both of their empty mac and cheese cartons and took them to the kitchenette to toss them. With quick wave of the hand, he said goodnight and headed back to bed. The click of the bathroom door signaled Usnavi was getting ready to sleep as well. The hum of shower water was calming enough to help him forget his anxiety and doze off.

The next morning Sonny almost launched immediately into a second attack after realizing he wasn’t alone in his room. Graffiti Pete sat leaning with his back against Sonny’s bedroom door, clicking away on his phone. Once his heart rate returned to normal, Sonny noticed the acrid paint scent and relaxed considerably.

“Sorry,” Pete said sheepishly. “You looked like you really needed the sleep, so I let you keep goin’.”

Sonny snorted, feeling himself for the first time in a while, “It’s fine, man. It’s all good. Just, can I get some food in me before that toxic smell puts me off eating forever?”

Pete sniffed the air curiously, before admitting that he didn’t even smell the spray paint anymore. Sonny just laughed at him and dragged him to the kitchen to make cereal.

The schedule for the day was simple: grab some sodas and candy and sit around on fire escapes or at Bennett Park until dusk, when they’d hit up the wall Pete was working on. Hopefully, they could get back home in time for Sonny to get some sleep and return to school in the morning.

Clutching a fistful of cash from his last paycheck, Sonny slipped on a backwards baseball cap and locked the apartment door. They jogged down the street to the bodega, where Usnavi was busy straightening travel-sized shampoo bottles on a shelf.

“Two Country Club Cola Champagnes, please,” Sonny said with a smirk. Usnavi snorted back at him, but he grabbed two from the fridge behind the counter and passed them over.

“Keep your money. Go have fun,” he said, and not needing to be told twice, Pete and Sonny grabbed their drinks and a fistful of candy each from the front counter display. They raced outside to the sound of Usnavi sputtering about being taken advantage of.

Pete’s apartment was cleaner than one would expect. It was clean because it was almost empty. He had clothes, some dishes, toiletries, and a shit ton of spray cans, but that was pretty much the extent of his possessions. Sonny liked the futon, with its crunchy paint spots and worn out cushions. It was comfortable to sprawl out across, and it smelled more like Pete than paint, a rarity indeed. He flopped out on it, dropping his hat on his chest, as he waited for Pete to grab his backpack and load it up with their goods and a few cans, just in case. The clanking in the bedroom stopped, and he finally walked out, jumping a little to settle the contents of his pack.

“Let’s hit the road, Sonny,” he said, and they were off.

Bennett Park was pretty empty at the moment. A few mothers with small children sat on one side, and some dropouts smoked lazily on the other. Pete walked out straight to the middle, then produced a tarp that had once been blue but was now had an odd combo of purple and orange on it as well. He sat down and patted the crackling plastic beside him.

“Grass allergies are a bitch,” he explained, remembering the issue that had plagued Sonny during soccer matches or relay races when they were younger.

“Thanks,” Sonny acknowledged before joining him.

Candy snacking and soda drinking evolved into freestyling to a beat on Pete’s phone. Sonny spun a series of activism-fueled lyrics, conveying his determination to help beat the poverty line in New York City. Pete rapped about running from angry business owners and spending time with said owner’s underpaid employees. Sonny found himself choking on his soda when a particularly creative rhyme of “Usnavi De la Vega” and “Washington Heights bodega” caught him off guard. Tests and school were far from his mind, and the enormous weight on his shoulders was missing for once.

The sugar-high picnic grew stale after a few hours, and they entertained themselves by wandering the streets looking for blank walls to tag later.

They talked about Abuela and the blackout and that one emotional rollercoaster of a Fourth of July that seemed years ago but was actually only a few months prior. Pete admitted that Abuela had helped him find his cheap studio apartment, and Sonny confessed that he’d confided more secrets to Abuela than he had to any of his friends.

“Even me?”

“Even you.”

The duo passed the dispatch, boarded up with a big yellow sign that declared it to be property of Uptown Investments and told them to “Watch This Space!” in black printed letters. The awning was still popped even though the building was empty, so Pete scrawled his initials across it, just as a big fuck you to gentrification.

As so many things seemed to do lately, the conversation trailed back around to school, though it stayed casual, and the anxiety that normally followed never appeared. They talked about Sonny’s classes and how it turned out you could be intelligent without being particularly good at testing. They talked about Sonny’s old friends from the lower level classes, about how Pete saw many of them now that they had dropped out, and about how those that had stuck it out missed Sonny.

“You really never run into them on campus?” Pete had asked. Sonny just shook his head and told him about how the honors classes were grouped in a separate building.

“We joke that it’s cause they don’t want us mingling. They might rub off on us overachievers or something,” he mumbled miserably.

Pete gave him a somewhat pitying look and asked if there was anything he enjoyed about it.

“I like learning,” he confessed. “I like my government class even if it is hard as hell. I don’t mind the material, I just hate getting tested on in and wasting my days doing homework about shit we just covered a few hours earlier.”

“But what about the people,” Pete pushed on. “Don’t you have any friends in your classes? You’re a funny guy, and you’ve got a natural attraction to you.”

Sonny snorted at that. “I mean, I got people I talk to and people I’ve done projects with, but there’s no one I really trust or would call a best friend. Why? You scared I’m gonna replace you?”

It was a joke, but Pete’s hesitation wasn’t.

“Pete, come on, man. I’m not gonna go run off with these kids I’ve never talked to until this year and leave you hanging. Who do you think I am?”

“I think you’re a damn genius kid, is who I think you are. These are the other genius kids. You’re headin’ in the same directions. It makes sense you’d probably prefer to make friends with them instead.”

“I’m not a genius.”

“You’re closer to one than I am.”

“Pete, holy fuck, why didn’t you tell me you were thinking this. Being smart comes in a lot more forms than just school bullshit. Trust me, I’m learnin’ that the hard way. For being such a ‘genius,’ my grades sure aren’t very high. I’m dead serious. You should have told me.”

“When? I never see you anymore, Sonny. I’m finally hanging out with you again, and you know who had to arrange it? Usnavi. I know shit’s bad when your cousin is the one tryin’ to get us to spend time together. Mister ‘You’re Gonna Make My Cousin A Deadbeat Street Punk’ asked me to come over and hang with you all day.”

Sonny stopped walking in shock. He knew he hadn’t been seeing Pete lately, but he hadn’t realized how long it had been. He scuffed the toe of his Nike against a raised crack in the sidewalk. It was supposed to snow later that week, on account of it becoming winter and all. The weather was starting to demand sweatshirts and scarves, and Christmas was no longer far in the distance. Pete hadn’t seen him consistently in a couple months.

“Shit,” he whispered. Pete’s face creased with guilt, and he knocked at Sonny’s hat lightheartedly.

“Come on, Sonny. Tell me about the smart girls. Any of them catch your eye?”

He leaped on the subject change, heart still pounding uncomfortably. “Nah man, you know me. My heart belongs to Nina Rosario alone.”

“I thought you had room for Vanessa in there too.”

“Now that she’s all over Usnavi? Not a chance. She’s probably caught his cooties by now.” Pete snorted inelegantly at that one. “How about you, Pete? How’s the dating pool for the dropouts?”

Pete just shrugged oddly. “Same old, I guess.”

The attitude change was blindly obvious, and Sonny pressed on. “You sure? That sounded pretty suspicious to me.”

“I’m sure.”

With a shrug, he let it drop, but the moment was seared into his longterm memory for review at a later date. They stopped at the Piragua Guy’s cart and used the money Usnavi had saved them on two strawberry orders. By the time the sun was starting to go down, they were both hungry for an actual meal, and Sonny’s need to take a piss was starting to become more of a pressing matter. They turned around and made it back to Pete’s, where he started microwaving cans of soup as Sonny relieved himself. They slurped chicken noodle out on the fire escape, arguing good-naturedly about how dangerous it was to microwave the cans directly, as Pete insisted he’d never had the metal throw sparks yet, so it was fine to keep doing so. Sonny nicked his finger on the sharp edge of the lid where it had been hacked open with a boxcutter, and he sucked away the single droplet of blood that emerged. 

Pete pulled a joint out from his pocket and gave him a questioning look. Sonny’s brain spun as he remembered the AP Government test and how smoking might have been one of the reasons he hadn’t remembered the answer. He swallowed the lump that caught in his throat and nodded. Pete looked a little unsure, but he produced a lighter anyway, passing both over. Sonny tried to ignore his shaking hands as he lit up and breathed a cloud of smoke into the cold night air. He passed the joint back to Pete, who inhaled as well, and they clunked their heads back against the wall in unison, gazing up at the sky where the stars would have been, if the streetlights hadn’t been so damn bright.

When the joint was gone, Pete stood up and grabbed their cans, lobbing them through the air so they landed in the dumpster six stories below. He reached a hand down to haul Sonny up to his feet, and they headed back inside to wash their spoons and return to Usnavi’s. The walk back was quiet; Sonny was slightly high, but not enough to really impact his function. The air was just shy of frigid, but Pete seemed invincible, dressed only in a baggy tank-top but with no goosebumps on his arms. Sonny was wrapped in his sweatshirt, but the chills were getting to him, and he had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. Pete poked light fun at him, and all too soon the lights of Sonny’s apartment complex were shining down on the sidewalk before them.

One fist bump and tight hug later, Pete was giving a quick salute and walking back the way they’d come. Sonny waited to be buzzed in, watching him saunter away. He’d missed him more than he’d noticed.

Sonny certainly hadn’t missed school, and the next day was particularly bad, especially considering the makeup work that had been piled onto him by each teacher in succession. He staggered home and what little pep the previous day had put in his step was now gone. Usnavi had repeatedly offered to hire a tutor, but Sonny could only imagine an extra couple of hours each week being swallowed by schoolwork, so he declined each time. His grades were picking up a little anyway. He had a B in Honors English, and the C in AP Government was closer to a B than a D now. His Trigonometry grade remained unmoved from a high D+, but he was hoping that a test the next week might pull it up out of failing territory.

The textbooks were pulled out of their spot under the bed, and their spines were cracked open once more, as Sonny settled back into the nightly routine of studying. The mental health day hadn’t been nearly long enough; time certainly flew when you were having fun.

Fortunately, it turned out time still flew even when you were suffering, because before he knew it, Christmas break had begun, and grades were being released. Sonny’s trig grade scraped by at a glorious seventy point three, and he’d managed to keep his English at a B+. The real surprise was AP Gov, where he’d somehow received an eighty one percent, and Usnavi had been so proud, he’d framed the report card printout and hung it in the bodega. Sonny pretended to be embarrassed, but staring at it during one of his weekend work shifts helped pass the time faster.

“A B in an AP class is basically an A!” Nina had complimented him. “Sonny, you’re so much smarter than you claim.”

“He’s not just smart; he’s a hard worker,” Usnavi corrected, bragging the complete opposite of what he’d spent the whole summer calling Sonny.

Nina looked sheepish. “I of all people should know that. It takes time and commitment, not just natural talent to do well academically. Just look how much you’ve improved!”

Sonny blanched at the mention of time and commitment as his eyes drifted to the streetlight outside that used to cast the shadow of Graffiti Pete waiting for him to finish his shift. He never stopped by anymore unless it was late, long after closing, to throw “UDLV” up on the front window again. Usnavi would curse when he opened the following morning and would toss Sonny the scraper once he got home from school. It was a great way to blow off steam from a hard day, watching the dry paint curl up satisfyingly on the flat piece of metal.

With two whole weeks of absolute freedom, Sonny was vibrating with excitement, watching the clock tick closer and closer to the end of his shift. There were only two minutes left to go when Usnavi hollered something incomprehensible and sprinted out the front of the store. He returned with a hand twisted in Graffiti Pete’s collar, dragging him in and spitting some choice insults in Spanish.

“Eight times! Eight times I’ve had to scrape your tags off my storefront!”

“Actually, I distinctly remember I was the one doing the scraping,” Sonny piped up.

Graffiti Pete spluttered, “They aren’t my tags, man! They’re yours! I gotta keep putting them up, ‘cause you keep takin’ them down!”

“I don’t want any damn tags on my windows!”

“Then do you want them on your grate? Because you gotta stake your claim on wall space, Usnavi. If you have a tag on your store, no one else is gonna come along and spray over Abuela’s face. I’m tryin’ to protect my work and your property, man, come on!”

Usnavi was gaping, staring at the eighteen-year old trying halfheartedly to pull out of his grip. “That’s why you’ve been tagging up my store?”

“You think I like wasting paint spraying the same thing over and over? I thought you’d appreciate me at least using your initials instead of mine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that was what it was for?” Usnavi whined in that voice that meant he was  actually trying not to sound like he was complaining.

The snort Pete released reverberated off the small bodega walls. “So that’s where Sonny gets it from. ‘Just tell me!’ you guys say. Kinda hard to talk to you when one of you two threatens to call the police on sight and the other is never around or available to even speak with in the first place.”

Sonny had the decency to at least look embarrassed.

Pete’s shirt slipped out of Usnavi’s limp hand. Turning toward the backroom, Usnavi flapped it in the general direction of the front windows. “Make it look nice. Not too big.”

Pete straightened his clothes, grabbed his backpack and started for the door, shooting Sonny an odd look that had a mix of longing and sadness with a hint of uncertainty. Their friendship had always come so easily, that it was quite obvious when there was a strain or tension in the air. That just wasn’t right.

“Hey, Pete, it’s Christmas break. I have nothing else to do for two weeks. We can spend our days doing whatever the fuck we want.”

The sadness turned to fury, Pete whipped out a can, already shaking it violently. “Sure man, if you have nothing else to do,” Pete said. Then he opened the door and left. There was a brief hissing of paint and then nothing.

Sonny sat in shock. He’d tried to fix everything, but it had gone horribly south in seconds instead. Something crashed in the backroom, probably a stack of products meeting an unfortunate end at Usnavi’s clumsy hands. It felt metaphoric, and Sonny smacked his forehead against the counter, aware that his life seemed to have come full circle since July. 

The doorbell jangled as Vanessa swooped in, a scarf wound round her neck, fiddling with her phone in fingerless gloves. She leaned on the counter waiting, without announcing her presence, which explained the crash: most likely Usnavi receiving the text that she almost there. Over five months of dating and he was still shaken up by her. Sonny’s inner romantic was excessively fond of that.

“Do I sense a marital dispute?” Vanessa asked, unwinding her scarf.

Caught off guard, Sonny made an undignified questioning sound.

She looked at him with fond exasperation. “I saw Graffiti Pete just book it outta here, and he didn’t look too pleased. You two having a lovers’ spat?”

Sonny wrinkled his nose uncomfortably. “I don’t know anymore. I haven’t had time to really do stuff with him anymore, and I feel like our friendship is dying.”

Vanessa slapped her hands on his shoulders, curling fingers into his hoodie, until he met her eyes. “Sonny, if a lack of communication is causing the problem, maybe continuing the pattern isn’t the best way to fix it.”

He winced and grasped at straws. “I can’t talk to him right now. I’m halfway through a work shift.”

“Uh huh. Because that’s certainly stopped you before.” She gave him a pointed look and jerked her chin towards the door. “I’ll cover for you, if you’re so worried. Get out of here.”

Not needing to be told twice, Sonny grabbed his beanie from under the counter, thanking Vanessa profusely. She ruffled a hand through his curls before he tugged his hat on to protect his head.

Pete hadn’t gone that far. He was only a few blocks down, leaning against a streetlight, eyes closed, and bobbing his head to a beat on his phone.

Clearing his throat to announce his presence, Sonny aimed for casual. “Downgraded from a boombox to an iPhone, huh?”

Pete’s brow furrowed, but his eyes didn’t open. “It’s dead. Didn’t survive the blackout.”

Genuinely confused, Sonny shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pocket and stepped closer. “Did someone break into your apartment?”

“No. I had it with me when I found you at the bodega. Left it behind, and when I came by the next morning… Let’s just say it wasn’t fixable.”

“Oh. Sorry, man. I had no idea.”

Pete shrugged lethargically and turned his music up. He started bending his knees and dropping down in tempo. Sonny loved watching Pete dance. The casual ease with which he performed his urban and hip hop dance moves made him look so confident and self-assured that Sonny was almost jealous.

“It’s whatever. You were more important,” Pete continued, halfway into a backbend.

Sonny steeled his resolve before saying, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ignoring you or putting you on the back burner just ‘cause I got work to do. School’s stressing me out, but I don’t need to take it out on you.”

Pete spun into a slick, one-handed breakdance move that involved far more core strength than Sonny possessed. He landed on his feet and did a little hop back into a standing position. Pete took a second to catch his breath, then locked eyes with Sonny. Impassive face melting into a grin, he hauled him into a tight hug.

“Man, you can do your study thing. Just maybe try to include me too? I’ll sit and watch or some shit. I won’t distract you. Stop suffering alone, you martyr.”

Sonny slipped his cold hands into his sleeves as he hugged Pete back. “Okay. Sounds good. I’ll invite you over. I promise.”

“We can also always kick it at my place too, you know. I’ve got the comfy futon.”

“Well, I got a whole bedroom.”

“My place doesn’t smell like a locker room.”

“My room doesn’t smell like pure paint fumes!”

Making up lifted a hidden stressor from Sonny’s mind, and the pair headed back towards the bodega, and Pete, who was still in a dancing mood, was swinging his hips and practically skipping.

They slipped in the door, groaning over the pleasant warmth inside, and Usnavi came sprinting out of the backroom, bright red with spiky hair and no hat.

A shit-eating grin split Sonny’s face. “Ooh, cuz! Enjoying hot make outs while you’re on the clock?”

“It wasn’t entirely his fault,” cooed Vanessa, emerging from the doorway herself. Usnavi’s hat was spinning around her finger. “Sonny, think you can lock up for the night? Usnavi’s been pretty busy lately, and I’m thinking he should consider coming home with me tonight.”

The red spread darker on Usnavi’s face, but he was smiling all the same. Sonny stuck out his tongue and joined Pete in making fake gagging sounds.

“Just you wait,” sniped Usnavi. “You’re gonna get a girlfriend, and I’m going to tease you too. What goes around, comes around.”

Sonny made a particularly realistic retching noise, and Usnavi’s nose wrinkled. The keys were exchanged, and the couple bundled up and left for the evening. Sonny locked the door behind them before he pulled the bills and receipts from the register. He stuck the money in the cashbox and placed it back in the safe as Pete regaled him with a story about running around with some other dropouts and stumbling on an impressive paint job under a pedestrian bridge. The floor got a brief sweeping, and the magazine rack was refreshed with the current editions, and then the bodega and its main employee were finished for the evening.

They walked back towards the De la Vega apartment together. It was Sonny’s turn to share a story, so he told Pete about a guy’s failed attempt to ask his lab partner out and how quickly she’d declined. They were still mutually cringing with second-hand embarrassment as they sat on Sonny’s bed, kicking dirty clothes off of it and onto the floor.

“Girls,” Sonny sighed. “They’re something else.” Pete gave him another one of those odd looks that didn’t make sense. “What?” Sonny asked. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Look at me weird.”

“I don’t know. Guess I’m just mad you’re cheating on Nina.”

Sonny mock gasped. “Cheat on Nina? Never. My heart belongs to her alone.”

“And Vanessa.”

“Okay, and kinda Vanessa, too. If she wasn’t with Usnavi.”

“Like she probably is right now?” Pete said with a smirk.

“Ew! Oh god, that’s sick.”

They both made twisted expressions at the mental image, and then they dissolved into laughter again. Dinner consisted of chili and rice over sourdough, while they sprawled on the couch and watched the Late Night Show. Sonny dozed off at some point, crooked against Pete’s shoulder, and he woke up as he was being deposited onto his bed.

“Didn’t have to… carry me…” he mumbled.

“You’re light as fuck; don’t sweat it.” Pete pulled Sonny’s beanie off and shoved him deeper under the covers. “I’ll lock up and let myself out. Night, Sonny. See you tomorrow?”

Sonny smiled tiredly, his eyes already shut. “Yeah, man. For sure. You can watch me clean the kitchen, if that’s what interests you.”

“You’re what interests me,” Pete muttered, only half-sarcastically. “I miss you. Okay, gotta go. Goodnight.”

“Night, Pete.”

He heard the apartment door shut softly a few minutes later.

The next day, Sonny kept his promise and invited Pete over at midmorning. They took turns wielding Windex and sponges to fight the splatters of food encrusted on the stovetop. Pete certainly got into it, dropping into a partial squat so he could really work his arm fast in a violent scrubbing motion. Sonny was leaning against the microwave cracking up at the sight. When the area was finally clean of major food debris, they decided to mess it up all over again by making pancakes for brunch. The flour got all over the floor, but soon a sizable stack of differently shaped pancakes started to emerge.

The door opened and Usnavi came in around 11, snow on his shoulders, and though he was initially upset about the mess, the pancake smell won him over. He ate five, during a thorough mockery from the two youths regarding his late night activities. After brunch was over, Sonny declared it to be Usnavi’s turn to wash up, since he had benefitted from the meal without helping cook. Grumbling, Usnavi let him have the upper hand and began the slow process of sweeping up flour with a wet rag.

Sonny and Pete started raiding the closets for warm outer layers, prepping for a frolic in the new snow layer. It turned out it wasn’t snowing very hard. Instead of collecting in soft piles, the snow melted in the gutters to make slushy, brown ice mush. Sonny was kicking it back and forth with the toe of a rubber boot, as Pete suggested places to hang out downtown. They ended up hopping on the subway and spending the afternoon at a small museum, stealing the building’s free heating.

Usnavi was gone by the time they got back. He’d left a note saying that since the bodega had opened late, it was staying open late, and it not-so-subtly suggested that Sonny try to find time to work a fast shift during the busy periods. The note met the cruel end of being folded into a paper football which provided a solid twenty minutes of entertainment.

“I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore,” Sonny admitted. “If I don’t have to study, I have no hobbies left.”

“That’s just sad. Read a book. Knit a sweater.”

“What do you do in your free time?”

Pete paused thoughtfully. “I sketch sometimes. I dance or listen to music, or, or I watch dumb YouTube videos for hours.”

“You’re boring,” Sonny declared.

“Why? What did you used to do that was so smart? And don’t say working in the bodega.”

“I write rap songs every now and then. Usually it’s just spoken word. I like to draw too. Oh! And I play games on my phone.”

“You’re just as boring as I am.”

“Fair point.”

As Christmas Day grew closer and closer, the weather became downright freezing. Sonny went on a thrift shop spree, blowing three paychecks on presents for the barrio. For Usnavi he’d grabbed a hideous, vibrantly-colored button up shirt, since his cousin was a sucker for clothes most people would have gagged at seeing. Benny warranted a ceramic portable coffee mug that Sonny planned to fill up for him in the mornings instead of wasting paper cups. Pete had helped him refinish an old picture frame, and he’d stuck a photo of Vanessa and Usnavi laughing on the back step of her apartment complex inside for her. Nina was difficult to shop for, and thrift shops didn’t carry much in the way of useful academic supplies, so he was considering just writing her a thank you letter if an idea didn’t come to him soon. Daniela and Carla could each settle for an expensive bodega chocolate bar, and he planned to bring a bag of M&M’s and KitKat’s to school for distribution to his slowly growing friend group. He didn’t feel super close to any of them, but he had charisma in spades, and there were some regulars who liked to do projects together or sit by him in class. All in all, the presents weren’t too costly. It was Pete who made it expensive. Sonny had taken the subway to lower Manhattan and practically bankrupted himself buying a fancy boombox. He’d been sold the second he saw that it took cassettes too. Usnavi had given him an adoring look as he’d watched Sonny wrestle gift wrap around it, before shoving it into a drawer under his bed.

“He’s gonna love it,” Usnavi said with a smile, as if he’d temporarily forgotten his animosity towards Pete. Sonny couldn’t wait for Christmas.

He ended up giving it to Pete on Christmas evening itself. Usnavi was in the other room with Vanessa, watching It’s A Wonderful Life and wearing his ugly shirt, while the two youths lounged in Sonny’s bedroom. One second Sonny was joking about quitting his job to become a seasonal mall Santa, and the next he had a package in his hand. Pete was instantly prodding him in the side, telling him to open it. The paper tore off easily, since Pete really wasn’t a talented wrapper, and inside was Shea Serrano’s The Rap Year Book that Sonny had been eyeing at The Strand one day when they’d gone downtown. He pulled Pete into a hug and thanked him profusely. After a deep grounding breath, he swung an arm under the bed and, with some struggling, produced Pete’s present.

When Pete had opened it, he didn’t even respond. He just repeated, “What,” over and over in a flat voice. It edged into slightly manic, and then Sonny was being crushed against his bed as Pete tackled him full on. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he was mumbling into Sonny’s curls, until he launched away to sit on the floor by it. “Man, I don’t know what to say. Gimme your present back; I’ll get you twelve more books.”

“I think taking one away from me would be counterproductive, then,” Sonny said, clutching his present to his chest.

Christmas ended perfectly, with the boombox causing Jingle Bells to vibrate the shitty walls of Sonny’s room, and Usnavi complaining loudly that his favorite movie was being ruined.

The New Year blasted into the picture with more fireworks and shouting, and then school was back in full swing. Instead of locking himself away in the apartment to study, Sonny alternated studying after school with some friends in the library and crashing at Pete’s until late at night. He’d always been a social person, and the human interaction lifted his spirits and reminded him that he actually enjoyed learning. Usnavi called his second semester classes “the ics,” on account of three of the five being ceramics, physics, and economics. Pete called them “education hell” as he stared over Sonny’s shoulder to frown at long equations that made no sense to him. He wasn’t really mad; he was actually thrilled that Sonny was including him in his life again. Pete had met his physics lab partner a week prior, and it turned out the nerds weren’t so bad after all. Sonny was so infectious, he’d won several girls’ hearts and was continually invited to the end of the year school dance. So far he’d declined all of them, saying he wasn’t even interested in going. There was still something to be said for the ego stroke of getting asked out though, so he let the requests continue without remorse. 

May brought the return of hot, sticky humidity and Sonny’s sixteenth birthday, but it also brought finals, and Usnavi showered Sonny in a never-ending rain of peanut M&M’s and cola champagne to keep him going. The grades came in, three B’s and two A’s, and Nina, back from her second year at Stanford, treated both De la Vega’s, Graffiti Pete, Vanessa, and Benny to a sit-down restaurant dinner. Benny was kind of all over her that night, but everyone was impressed with their maintenance of a long distance relationship, so they let it slide.

The summer before Sonny’s senior year was punctuated with a few more blackouts, none as bad as The Blackout, but unnerving all the same. Usnavi was over at Vanessa’s most nights of the week, and Sonny rejoiced in his expanding independence. Pete visited whenever Usnavi was out, and the two enjoyed three months of unsupervised chaos in the form of smoking on the fire escape, living room dance offs and cyphers, and the occasional graffiti collaboration.

When school returned, it brought college application season with it, and Sonny was in a near frenzy for months.

He stumbled through the front door in January, slapping snow out of his scarf, when Usnavi emerged, holding out a bright envelope with his name on it. Sonny’s shaking and numb fingers pried it open, and suddenly he wasn’t just Sonny De la Vega anymore; he was Sonny De la Vega, Government undergraduate at Wesleyan University. Their whoops and shouts prompted an angry broom to the ceiling from their downstairs neighbor, but it did little to curb their excitement. 

At the end of the day, most of the barrio knew, and Usnavi had spent almost two hours sobbing. 

By the next morning, Pete had sprayed Sonny’s portrait in the style of Obama’s old campaign posters on the bodega’s brick alley wall, and Usnavi hadn’t even complained once.

It was the dawn of a new era. Once July had swung back around, a seventeen year old Sonny was slowly starting to pack for his departure in less than two months. He was in the midst of a veritable high of excitement and didn’t even notice the near depressive slump Usnavi and Pete had fallen into until Vanessa huffed at him one day during his shift, telling him about how pathetic his older cousin was being, and Sonny felt awful. 

Usnavi apologized profusely for putting a damper on his fun but also admitted that he hadn’t thought it would hurt so much. They’d hugged it out, Sonny had promised to write (“It’s just Connecticut. I’m not going that far away.”), and Usnavi had perked up rather well. Pete kept hiding his disappointment until it was dragged out of him by Daniela, who mentioned offhand that he wouldn’t have his partner-in-crime, a term Usnavi hated, around to keep him company anymore. Graffiti Pete had turned a sickly shade of green, and Sonny had to desperately remind everyone he was only going to be about two hours away.

But even he had to admit that those two hours felt like forever as he and Usnavi rented a car and drove over for orientation, his belongings packed in the trunk. Benny was kind enough to actually be the one behind the wheel, laughing but instantly agreeing when a sheepish Usnavi had asked him to come along.

Sonny had intended to sleep most of the way, but he’d forgotten that Benny was still a taxi driver, and thus he had few qualms about breaking speed limits and other traffic rules. The whole ride there had Sonny gripping the handle above his window, the excitement of college and the fear of crashing tangling together in his stomach like worms in a can. Then the Wesleyan University sign appeared, and they were on campus, heading for the dorms. When they pulled up, Sonny stared at Clark Hall in a state of absolute awe, until loud chatter of fellow first-years and their parents startled him back to awareness. He suddenly felt very exposed, standing there with the car and three cardboard boxes of belongings.

The discomfort lasted as long as it took for his cousin to walk over and lightly punch his shoulder. “Go out and do what you do,” Usnavi advised, and Sonny was off like a shot, introducing himself to the Korean boy nearby who was waiting for his parents to pay the cab driver and follow him. Usnavi brought the boxes up on his own, chuckling quietly to himself in near disbelief at the sight of Sonny surrounded by at least five kids by his dorm room door. They were all chatting easily about where they were from and what their planned majors were. Sonny introduced him as his cousin, caretaker, and role model, and Usnavi had never been so proud. He’d also never been so embarrassed as he promptly broke down into tears and snorted a sob in front of the other students and their parents. Benny had put a casual, comforting arm around his shoulders, and that only made him cry harder.

The three went out for dinner together, aware of the bittersweet atmosphere. They Skyped the barrio, and Benny’s crappy screen revealed the Rosarios, Graffiti Pete, and Vanessa, all crowded into the main office of Kevin’s mechanic shop.

“I cannot believe how much you’ve grown!” cried Camila.

“Kid’s damn smart,” Vanessa chimed in.

Benny sported an infectious grin that rivaled the look he got when Nina was mentioned. “I guess that lottery money’s going to the right place after all. You deserve it, Sonny. You’ve worked hard.”

Chimes of assent poured over the tinny laptop speakers. It was an emotional night, and leaving Usnavi to get back into the car and drive away seemed even harder than those nights spent studying. He waved goodbye as Benny and his cousin drove off in the quickly fading daylight, then turned and headed back inside. The lobby seemed to have grown in size without familiar barrio family around him, but Sonny brightened at the prospect of meeting his roommate, and he headed upstairs for his room.

It turned out to be the Korean boy from earlier. He had also been out eating with his family, and thus had only just finished unpacking himself. He introduced himself as Patrick. When Sonny told him his name, Patrick asked if his was a nickname too.

“Patrick isn’t your real name?” Sonny asked, after admitting that his birth certificate did indeed say Sonny on it.

Patrick shrugged with one shoulder and rubbed under his nose with a single finger. “Not really. I’m trans, but like, just call me Patrick.”

Sonny accepted this, and they switched topics. Patrick was a film major, and he was born and raised in San Francisco, California. He said his greatest fear for the year ahead was facing the East Coast heat, something that got him a laugh. Sonny explained his own situation, then set to work probing Patrick of details about life on the other side of the continent.

Patrick spun a tale of rolling fog and cool bay breezes until he launched into a story about his first Pride. Sonny couldn’t help but be interested. At first, Patrick had remained slightly cold and distant, but once he realized that, no, Sonny had no more of a problem with a gay roommate as with a trans one, he relaxed.

“There aren’t too many people who aren’t straight in my neighborhood,” Sonny admitted. “I mean, there’s a pretty prevalent Catholic population so… I know two dudes though; Jose and Julio have been on and off again for a several months now.”

Patrick snorted. “In SF, there’s queer people like, everywhere. It’s pretty great. You don’t know many? That seems odd for it being New York City.”

“Eh, I’m sure there’s pockets in the Heights. I just don’t live there.”

“What about you? I don’t want to, like, pry or anything.”

“Me what?” Sonny asked, confused.

“Are you straight? I assumed so, so like, just wanted to make sure I wasn’t jumping to conclusions.”

“Yeah, I’m…” He hesitated. Initial gut reactions told Sonny he was straight. He thought about Nina and her smile and laugh and how that twisted something in his chest that made him want to show off for her. He thought about the awe he felt when he listened to her speak about her work at Stanford. He thought about Vanessa and how fun it was to tease her, how that made her treat him more like an equal. “I like girls,” he amended.

He was thankful Patrick didn’t press further.

The idea of not being straight hadn’t really occurred to Sonny. He knew some stuff about LGBTQ+ rights, what with his ventures into social activism, but it wasn’t super relevant to his life. He started to try to look at guys in his classes, almost attempting to force some sort of attraction, just to test the waters. 

“College is a good time to find yourself,” Nina had said, and she wasn’t wrong about much. Sonny’s experiment didn’t last long before he concluded that pressuring himself to like the dudes he was seeing just wasn’t working, but then he started thinking about the girls on campus, and he found that staring at them didn’t do much for him either.

“Maybe I’m asexual,” he groaned to Patrick one afternoon as they studied on the lawn under an awning that protected them from the lightly falling snow.

“You might be,” Patrick conceded. “Or you might just not fall for people you don’t know at all. Like, you get it, you like their personality and like, attitudes, not their looks.”

Sonny had to give him that one. “Okay then. So, take you for example. You’re a guy. I know you. I like you and think you’re fun to hang out with. I even find you objectively attractive. But I don’t think I’m into you in that way.”

“Oh my god. Holy shit.” Patrick had to wheeze out some laughs. “Sonny, straight people aren’t into everyone, so queer people don’t have to be either. And like, you might be gay or you might be straight or you might be something totally different. It’s just a label. Don’t force it.”

Sonny nodded but kept thinking anyway. He thought about Benny and his muscular arms, broad shoulders, and tight professionalism. Then he imagined Javier from his senior AP English class, all smiles and the start of an impressively sculpted goatee. Jose. Julio. Miguel. Even that picture of Kevin in his mid-twenties. Nope. Nothing. He tried everything to avoid the one thought that his mind kept producing, unbidden, that he didn’t want to think about or dwell on. But try as he might, Pete’s paint stained hands kept surfacing in his mind. Pete’s ugly laugh that wrinkled his nose, squeezed his eyes shut, and opened his mouth too wide. Pete’s tan back, with lithe muscles flexing as he stretched up to spray higher up on a wall.

Sonny flopped backward in the grass, hitting his head a little too hard on the compacted dirt underneath. He groped around for his sweatshirt hood and made a little pillow for himself.

It turned out gay thoughts were much easier when he tried to project them on people he’d never be attracted to and didn’t think about the one person he might. To distract himself, Sonny rolled over and asked Patrick his plans for Christmas break.

He gave one of his patented one shoulder shrugs. “Flying home, I guess. Like, don't get me wrong, I love the Bay Area, but it’s so refreshing to be out here.”

“Even if it’s fucking freezing?”

“Even if it’s fucking freezing. I need the getaway. What about you? I assume you’ll be making the long, long trip back to New York City?”

“Yeah, my cousin and his friend are gonna drive over and pick me up again. I keep saying I can take public transit, but Usnavi’s really missed me, and I think he’s looking forward to getting me in person.”

“He’s probably going to, like, do that crying while smiling thing like when he dropped you off,” Patrick joked, remembering his limited sighting of Usnavi, as well as the countless anecdotes Sonny had shared.

However, Usnavi didn’t cry when he picked Sonny up. He held it in until they reached the barrio.

Usnavi sat up front, letting the silent tears roll down his face as he kept looking into the rearview mirror to see Sonny’s face. Benny wasn’t crying, but the smile that hadn’t left his face revealed how much he had missed his friend’s younger cousin.

The barrio looked the same, as not much had really changed in just a few months, but it was so comfortable and familiar that Sonny was feeling rather emotional himself. Upon stepping out of the car and back onto New York soil, he was immediately assaulted by shouting crowd of ex-salon ladies. Daniela hoisted him off his feet with hugging arms wrapped around his waist. Carla pushed back his beanie to stare at his hair where the curls were starting to flop onto his forehead and clucked about him needing a trim. Nina’s questions were firing a mile a minute, but Vanessa eased the commotion by tugging the group towards Usnavi’s apartment complex door, insisting they needed to give him a second to breathe.

As Usnavi opened the building’s front gate, a long cry of Sonny’s name was the only warning he got before he was slammed into the wall by Graffiti Pete’s crushing hug. It was that moment, squeezed in his best friend’s arms that he realized everything was not the same after all. A fierce urge to spend as much time with Pete as physically possible caught him off guard. Pete was not necessarily objectively attractive. He had a shaved head and wore ratty clothes. There was a dark smudge of black paint on his forehead, like he’d scratched an itch there without thinking. His eyes were too intense, his mouth too wide, and his nose was slightly crooked. And Sonny thought he could stare at him all day.

When the group made it inside, spread around the main apartment room, Nina asked him what the biggest thing he’d learned was, and Sonny wondered if slowly realizing he was bisexual would count. Instead he told her about the Model UN he had joined for political science credit. He texted Patrick late that night, with no response due to the three hour time difference, and admitted that to answer his question from the beginning of the year, no, he was not straight.

Christmas was a huge block event that year. Everyone squeezed into the Rosario’s place, and Camila whipped up the largest and tastiest banquet imaginable. Sonny sat by Pete and fought the steadily growing urge to monopolize all his time, allowing him to continue his joking conversation with Daniela next to him.

It wasn’t that Sonny had gone head over heels in a second; he was just realizing his open options romantically, and Pete, his best friend for most of his life, was basically his favorite person his age anyway. Add in shared life experiences, physical attraction, and Sonny’s huge romantic soul, and he had the groundwork for a pretty substantial crush. Their touchy-feely friendship felt like an exceptional blessing, and hugs and fist bumps and back pats felt like gifts. 

He felt so different from when he’d nursed a crush on a female classmate his freshman year in high school or when he flirted with Nina over Slurpees and Nerds. Pete was the older one. He’d had girlfriends before and had clandestine hookups and make outs in alleyways. Sonny had a awkward kiss from a spin the bottle game with the girls down the hall earlier that year. Pete had a casual confidence that looked sexually attractive on him, while Sonny’s confidence made him feel more like a charismatic comic relief friend. As much as he’d teased Usnavi for having no skills, he was rapidly wondering if it ran in the family. He had nothing to him that showed he might have a shot at winning over a more experienced male who was almost certainly not interested in other guys, particularly his best friend. Which led to a whole other can of worms: how would Pete feel about Sonny being bi, and would this somehow affect their friendship. It was far too valuable to Sonny to risk it just for a chance at a kiss or date.

As the adults reached the point just past tipsy in the other room, Pete stood in the kitchen, staring outside at the thick white snow carpet that littered the fire escapes of the other buildings. Sonny joined him, still eating his sweet potatoes.

“This time last year you were givin’ me my boombox,” Pete said.

Sonny perked up, “Oh yeah! Totally worth it. Felt great to give it to you.”

“I still owe you big time for that, by the way.”

“No, you don’t,” insisted Sonny, elbowing him in the side. Pete was warm, even through both of their sweatshirts, and Sonny imagined pressing close to share body heat.

“Why do you keep doin’ that?” Pete asked.

“Doin’ what now?”

“You keep staring at me all weird. Like you’re judging me or something.”

It seemed Sonny was not as sly with the side glances as he’d thought. He mimicked Patrick’s one shoulder shrug calmly.

“What is it, man?” Pete asked with finality, a tad of fear in his voice. “Something’s been different. What’s going on?”

Sonny wasn’t one to hide himself away from the ones he trusted, and he certainly didn’t lie to Pete. “I have something I kinda gotta admit. Please, don’t tell anyone else yet. I wanna keep it under wraps from everyone else for a bit longer. It’s personal.”

Pete turned from the window to give Sonny his full attention, looking grave and focused.

“My roommate, Patrick, he’s gay and also transgender.” He scanned Pete’s face for a reaction and was knocked off balance when there wasn’t one. That was his chance to test the waters, and Pete gave him no indication of what sort of response he should expect. Taking a deep breath, Sonny jumped right in. “We got to talking, and I think I’ve realized that I’m bisexual.”

Pete broke free of whatever was paralyzing him and started to nod, eyes wide. “Wow. Okay. I wasn’t really expecting that.”

“Yeah,” Sonny replied nervously, licking his lips.

“So, you’re hooking up with Patrick? What if things go weird, and you guys still gotta live together?”

Sonny jerked in alarm, “No! No. We aren’t together. He just, helped me out with self-exploration and stuff.”

Pete visibly relaxed, and he even let loose a smile that turned evil in seconds.

“So, you into him? Into someone else? Come on, man, this opens a whole new demographic for you to date. What even made you realize?”

“I, uh, don’t really know entirely. I guess I’ve always been bi? I just started to think about it? Liking dudes wasn’t even something I’d considered for me before.”

Pete shifted in his leaning stance at the window so he could really fix eyes on him. Sonny’s pulse spiked; he could hear the adults’ chatter as if it was far away, and every inch of his body seemed hypersensitive. It was nerves, plain and simple, but since his panic attack in junior year, he paid special attention to how he felt under stress. He’d followed his gut instinct then, and he followed it now in the moment, taking a slow step forward with obvious intent.

It was Pete’s turn to go wide-eyed again, pupils dilating and fists clenching. When Sonny took another creeping step forward, Pete whispered softly, “What are we doing?” and Sonny was forced to admit he wasn’t certain. His hands were shaking as he reached out, emboldened by the fact Pete hadn’t yanked away; he set one awkwardly on Pete’s shoulder, and it was like flipping a switch. Sonny was reeled in by an arm around his waist as the other hand came to hold his chin delicately. Pete’s eyes were dancing with something unreadable as he asked permission, and then Sonny was having his second kiss, in the Rosario’s kitchen, on Christmas Day, with all the locals he knew and his own cousin only feet away behind a thin wall.

He really wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing. Pete’s hand had loosely tilted his head so their noses avoided one another, and his lips weren’t moving against Sonny’s, just holding. Should he be tensing his lips more to convey how strongly he felt? Should they be relaxed and pliable? Pete pulled away before he could decide.

Both parties started their nervous laughter, pulling apart and walking an arm’s length away.

“Was that weird? That was weird, wasn’t it?” Pete asked.

Sonny shook his head no profusely. “I started it, man.”

“Usnavi’s gonna kill me,” Pete breathed, and then he was stepping back in, close and up in Sonny’s space. There was only one thing to do, and their lips met again. The same uncertainties ran through Sonny’s mind, but all it took was a, “Shh. Relax,” from Pete, and he was letting his lips slacken a little as the tension in his shoulder dropped.

They were just simple, closemouthed kisses, but Sonny felt like he was weightless and close to gliding away. After Sonny could no longer count the kisses he’d participated in on both hands, Pete stepped back and shook himself out like he was limbering up to dance.

“Okay, so that happened,” Sonny struggled to say around the huge, unquenchable smile he felt locking onto his face.

Pete looked ecstatic too, even as he admitted he wasn’t expecting his Christmas to go the way it was.

“Are you bi, too?” Sonny asked and got a nose wrinkle in return.

Pete shook his head. “I don’t know enough about labels to define all the different terms enough to choose. I know I like girls. But there are some exceptions.” 

“Like me?” Sonny snarked.

“Looks like it.”

“I’ve only kissed one person before,” Sonny admitted, and Pete promised that there would be more kisses coming to practice with if he wanted. Sonny could only nod like a bobble-head. “What if I graduate past closed-mouth kisses?” he asked honestly.

Pete actually flushed red and dragged a hand across his smooth scalp. “I guess I can figure somethin’ out, then,” he replied.

“What if I’ve graduated right now?” Sonny continued, but then the noise in the adjacent room grew louder, and Pete joined him in acting innocent as the adults piled into the kitchen. Sonny was certain Usnavi would be able to tell just looking at him what they’d been up to, but he seemed to notice nothing amiss except that Sonny still hadn’t finished his sweet potatoes.

“Don’t be rude. Camila worked hard on those.”

“Yes sir, Usnavi, sir,” Sonny saluted, digging in. Pete was standing by the doorway still, and they exchanged secretive looks as the adrenaline rush of what they’d gotten away with sunk in. 

The rest of the night was spent continuing to eat leftovers and playing card games on the living room floor. Sonny had a smile trapped on his face the whole time. Christmas was his favorite holiday, but this one was particularly special.

Heading back to Wesleyan was a slight disappointment. He’d really missed Usnavi and the rest of the barrio, saying goodbye again felt like reopening a wound that had just started to heal. Giving Pete a fistbump and promising to text more often felt especially odd. They’d never found another private moment during Sonny’s break, and leaving the kisses unmentioned was its own brand of torture.

Even so, Sonny had to admit he’d missed Patrick too, and the daily grind of new classes sucked him in fast enough that it was practically painless. 

The two were shacked up in their rooms, revising each other’s midterm papers when Patrick told Sonny he was dating someone.

“Yeah, their name’s Lee. Filipino. They’re like, really tall.”

“Oh shit, yeah. They’re in my poli sci class. They like to argue with the weird, close-minded students.”

“That sounds like Lee. But yeah, they asked me out, and like, we’ve been sending vibes to each other all semester, so it’s finally panning out.”

“I’m proud of you, Patrick! You’re really going for it.”

Patrick smiled and leaned back against the wall. “My parents don’t really like me being trans and queer. Cultural and generational differences, I guess. But they took the news well. They’re learning. Anyway, I’m also letting you know in case I ever wanna, like, borrow the room for a bit, if you catch my drift there.”

Sonny snorted and slapped at his arm. “Gimmie a heads up at least, in case I got stuff to grab. And don’t leave me hanging overnight.”

“Will do!” Patrick saluted him, then turned back to the paper on his lap, red pen poised and ready, signaling the end of the conversation.

It came to fruition three weeks later, when Sonny received a text from Patrick that simply read:

yo if ur not busy can i use the room for an hour or three ;)

Snickering to himself, Sonny shot off an affirmative and started packing books and paper into his backpack. As he headed towards the library, he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d become an academic. Two years ago he’d been smoking on fire escapes to avoid school and responsibilities, and now he was smoking by the dorms on weekends to celebrate finishing a project or aceing an exam. It was a byproduct of growing up and maturing, he supposed, though his flirty nature and prankish proclivities sure hadn’t left him. 

His phone vibrated a while later, and he wondered if it was the all clear sign, but it turned out to be Usnavi, sending him a picture of himself wrapped in a thick scarf, with the caption of “¡Wepa!” underneath. He was shaking his head as he responded:

its already late april

u getting weak navi!

Secretly, Sonny felt a little left out of New York life. Only two months to go in his first year, but it was still excruciatingly long until he’d set foot in the state again. He and Patrick had both opted to stay through Spring Break since it was so short, and they’d had work to do, but now he was antsy and ready to head home. The increase in assignments didn’t make things any better. Motivation was a struggle to maintain, but by staring at the picture of Abuela Claudia and Usnavi taped on his headboard and remembering how lucky he was to be able to afford university in the first place, Sonny managed to power through and finish strong. 

Dead week was hell, what with Patrick coming down with the flu, but it also meant Lee hung around more often, and Sonny really liked them. They rambled about astrology and its intricacies, and they had even brought a cake from their work to celebrate Sonny’s eighteenth birthday. During finals’ study breaks, with Patrick down for the count, Lee would beg for gossip about Pete, and he’d have to relate all their recent text conversations. Sonny had been embarrassed, because a couple chaste kisses stolen on Christmas night half a year ago wasn’t much to go off of, but Lee lived for it anyway. He’d told them several times about how Pete had mentioned that night, and how Sonny had assured him it was completely consensual, to which Pete had replied that maybe it could happen again when he got back for the summer.

“We aren’t in a relationship or anything,” Sonny insisted, but Lee just countered him smoothly with a hand in his face.

“Okay, but you said he was kinda a womanizer. And he’s stayed single for four and a half months now.”

“That’s not that long.”

Lee gave him a look.

“He doesn’t date people really. He’s a hookup sort of person. But he knows what he’s doing.”

“Has he quote unquote ‘hooked up’ with anyone lately?”

Sonny did another one shoulder shrug, a physical habit he’d definitely adopted after living with Patrick for so long. “I don’t know. He used to mention it, but he hasn’t recently.”

“I’d say that’s saying something,” Lee remarked.

“Okay, so Sonny wants the dick. Can you two pipe down or take it into the hall?” Patrick groused in a hoarse voice, rolling over to get a drink of water.

“Oops, sorry,” whispered Lee, dropping a kiss to their boyfriend’s sweaty temple. “We’ll let you sleep. I’ve distracted Sonny long enough anyway.”

But Sonny had a hard time getting back to work, because he was uncomfortably interested in Patrick’s feverish comment. When he got home and hung out with Pete again, would something come of it? He shifted to hide the energy surge he received at the thought. The next week couldn’t pass soon enough.

Five finals, one of which was an excruciating Calculus 1 exam, Sonny was fighting to pack his belongings away into boxes, bemoaning how many new items he seemed to have accumulated throughout the year.

“I swear, I did not have this many tank tops when I got here, man. They all fit in the corner of this box.”

“The wonders of college,” Patrick said through a stuffed up nose, as he packed his tripled book collection into a suitcase.

“Usnavi taught me better than to make a shit ton of frivolous purchases though.”

“Okay, but total authoritative freedom changes you,” Lee piped up from the bottom bunk.

Lee, a Connecticut native whose parents lived fifteen minutes away, had nothing to pack and thus was spending their time watching Sonny and Patrick struggle.

“Fuck, Usnavi says they’re a half an hour out,” Sonny swore, tossing his phone onto the bed, narrowly missing their feet.

Patrick sat on his suitcase and attempted to zip it. “Maybe we should have started packing before the day of departure.”

“And miss the adrenaline rush you get post-procrastination? As if.” The packing tape strip Sonny was laying down went crooked and failed to cover the lower two-thirds of the box opening. “I’m really going to miss you two.”

Lee smiled over the cover of their astrology book. “Rare to hear such an emotional Taurus. But you are pretty damn loyal, so I’ll accept it. I’m going to miss you too. Text me and maybe we can hang out over the summer.”

“Fuck both of you,” Patrick said with fake bitterness. “But at least as you two keep melting in this godforsaken heat, I’ll be watching the fog roll in across the bay.”

“We’ll Skype,” Lee promised, leaning in for a kiss that Patrick jokingly dodged. “Okay, just for that I’ll Skype you in the evening, so you’re forced to be up terribly late due to time zone shenanigans.”

Patrick’s protests were drowned out by his phone buzzing. The Marimba ring tone was cut off as he answered and proceeded to give his parents directions to the room. They walked in a few minutes later and greeted Lee so warmly that it was hard to think that they had any reservations about their son’s proclivities. Patrick’s mom hugged Sonny, her short stature making him feel tall for once. All too soon, they were trading goodbyes and promises to keep in touch.

With a, “See you next year!” Patrick was out the door, and the only things left in the room were Sonny’s. It seemed so empty that the reality that their first year was actually over really sunk in. Lee helped pack the last boxes in silence, and then it was Sonny’s turn to get a call. The two lugged everything to the lobby and turned in keycards and actual keys, so that the paperwork was finished, and he was officially checked out by the time Benny pulled up outside. 

The boxes were crammed into the car, Lee slapped Sonny’s back soundly, and the drive home began. Sonny chattered away about how much fun he’d had and yet how hard it had been, and Usnavi chided him for not texting often enough. They stopped over for burgers at a small mom and pop, but then, stomach full, Sonny ended up sleeping the rest of the way home.

True to form, the Rosarios threw another party celebrating both Nina and Sonny’s returns, and the whole time all Sonny could do was throw glances in Pete’s direction. After dessert as Nina prepared to talk about her year, Usnavi leaned over and whispered casually in his ear, “If you wanna get out of here, you can. Gimmie a text in the morning if you stay the night.” Sonny knew Usnavi meant it innocently, but it brought color to his cheeks anyway. He mumbled his thanks and said good night to the group, nodding for Pete to come along as well.

As they stepped out into the warm night air, he finally asked the question. “Can we hang at your place?”

“Sure thing, man.”

There was a tension to the air. They were finally in the same place at the same time, and the ample conversation topics their texts always found seemed to have dried up. By time Sonny was stretching out on Pete’s futon, the silence was becoming legitimately uncomfortable. Pete stood above him, looking down as he rubbed a hand across his head.

“Hey there,” Sonny said.

“Hey.” 

“Come on, man, we’re both thinking it.” Sonny sat up and gestured towards Pete with more confidence than he was actually feeling.

The tension bled out like a popped balloon, and Pete leaned in close, just to be met halfway. 

“I thought we already decided I’d graduated past close-mouthed kisses,” Sonny reminded him.

“You gotta start slow. Warm up first,” Pete said, but he shuffled close to the futon on his knees and reached up to hold Sonny’s face in his hands. Sonny didn’t know what to do with his, so he rested them on Pete’s shoulders for lack of a better idea. 

The first flick of a tongue to his lips had Sonny’s heart racing. Pete kept doing it until Sonny worked up the nerve to do it back. The second time he went for it, Pete joined him, and they met in the middle.

Sonny pulled back to shake out the tenseness in his back and shoulders. “Whoo, boy, this is harder than TV makes it look.”

Pete was snorting at that one, poking Sonny in the side. The reaction was instantaneous as he jolted and curled protectively, already trying to escape. Pete rose up onto the futon and wrestled him down with fingers that honed in on ticklish sides. Gasping for air, Sonny tried to push off with his feet but only succeeded in trapping himself under Pete, locked in by his arms on either side. The next attack was from above when Pete changed tactics and kissed him again. This time his jaw dropped low, and Sonny matched to the best of his ability. Tongues didn’t stay in their own mouths, and the temperature of the room seemed to spike.

Having Pete hovering above him felt strangely good, and even though it was a bit sloppy and wet, the kissing was definitely getting better. When they broke apart this time, breathing was a heavier, and Pete’s pupils were noticeably dilated. Both took a few deep, cleansing breaths, and then Sonny was helped to sit up, as Pete drew back. They ended the evening watching a documentary on the threat of America’s corporations, and Sonny felt almost giddy from his position tucked into Pete’s side. He dozed off mid-commercial and didn’t even wake up when Pete pulled out the futon into a bed to share as they’d done several times in the past. 

Waking up felt surreal as he came to spooned by Pete, who had an arm across Sonny’s stomach.

“You awake?” Pete asked, and Sonny grunted an affirmative.

They got scrambled eggs started on the hot plate before the situation was addressed.

“Are you single?”

Sonny snorted. “Think I’d have been doing that if I wasn’t?”

“You never know.”

“Well, I’d probably be a bit better at it if I wasn’t single.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“Good at it?”

“Single.”

Eyes locked and Sonny’s palms were sweating on his phone where he’d shot Usnavi a morning text. “You askin’ me out?”

“Tryin’ to.”

“Sure thing. I accept.”

Pete smiled as he dished eggs onto paper plates. “We’re gonna need some ground rules. You set the pace. Not me.”

“No. Bad. You gotta set the pace. I never know what to do next. Less experience.”

With rare seriousness, Pete shook his head firmly. “No way. All the more reason to put you in charge.”

“How about this,” Sonny countered, “you tell me before you move on to something new, and I’ll okay it or not.”

Pete tilted his head back and forth in thought. “Deal. But never hesitate to say no to anything you don’t wanna do.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

“Okay then.”

The lightning fast exchange slowed and made room for a comfortable, quiet breakfast. 

The clocks on their phones eventually revealed it was just past noon, and additional kissing practice was put on hold for the moment so Sonny could head home. 

Sonny really couldn’t believe that just like that he was now dating Graffiti Pete. They had mutually agreed to keep it quiet for the moment, and secretly he was a little relieved. He’d just gotten back to New York, and he was mildly worried about the mood swing Usnavi would experience when he found out. He hadn’t even mentioned he was bisexual yet, and god knew how he’d respond to that, let alone the fact that he’d chosen Pete as his partner.

By the following week, a work schedule was up, and Sonny was expected to pull his weight around the bodega again, which meant the mornings were for sleeping, afternoons were for messing with Usnavi, and evenings were for running around with Pete.

The first day Sonny walked in, a full ten minutes before his shift began, Usnavi dropped a roll of quarters in shock. “If I’d known college would get you to clock in on time, I’d have sent you a year early,” Usnavi joked as they scrambled around the floor on their hands and knees trying to find all the loose coins.

Sonny snorted and bumped their shoulders, making Usnavi drop a few again. He was perched at his usual spot at the till shortly after, preparing two coffees for when the Rosarios showed up. Benny’s reusable mug was drying on the countertop by the coffee machine, and it felt so comfortable and normal, that Sonny almost forgot that everything had changed. He’d finished a year of college and was no longer single, and if that wasn’t a complete one eighty from everything he had stood for in middle and high school, he didn’t know what was. 

The bell on the door rang as Kevin and Camila walked in. Camila’s face pinched into an emotional happy-cry expression as she approached with open arms. Sonny hugged her over their coffees, steaming and ready to go, and accepted he continued congratulations.

“I still just can’t believe it! One minute you were a young, aimless little boy, and now look at you,” Camila crooned. “I’m sorry to embarrass you, and I know I’ve seen you since you’ve been back, but with you behind that counter, pushing us our coffees… I remember when you stood on a step-stool by Usnavi so you could reach the receipt printer. You’re gone for a single year, and now you’re practically all grownup!”

“Well, he’s gotten older. Growing upwards is something he’s still working on,” Usnavi joked, leaning a condescending arm on Sonny’s head. Sonny wasn’t quite that short, so the action looked a little awkward, but the point was conveyed.

“He doesn’t have to be tall to be strong,” Kevin chuckled, gulping his coffee with the speed of a man who knows he’ll be brought a second one in an hour.

“Yeah, maybe more lifting goya bean cans onto shelves and less lifting Skittles to his mouth would help too,” Usnavi continued, fighting off his cousin’s weak protests.

The Rosarios left in cheery moods, and once Sonny stopped his mock anger, he was feeling better as well. Benny breezed in forty-five minutes later, snatching his candy bar, newspapers, and the habitual coffee for his boss-turned-father-of-his-girlfriend. He struggled to clutch his own coffee mug with the arm the papers were tucked under and left with a mumbled goodbye around the Milky Way held in his mouth, winking at them both for no apparent reason except that Nina was home, and that made him almost ridiculously happy.

The heat was creeping in again one afternoon, and as Sonny realized this, he pinched and shook out his tank top, which was actually a club tee for the campus activism group that he’d cut the sleeves off of. The poor plastic fan he was accustomed to had broken in his absence, and Usnavi had for some reason thought that cheap paper fans were a practical and effective substitute, so he was stuck practicing his best blushing maiden impression as he fluttered the cheap crepe paper. 

Graffiti Pete walked in around three thirty, when the humidity had reached its peak and the temperature was trying to keep up. He had wet sweat marks under each armpit and on his back, probably the reason he was carrying his backpack instead of wearing it. Usnavi gave him a nod before heading into the backroom with a new inventory list. He and Pete had reinstated their fragile truce, what with the graffiti misunderstanding and the various barrio parties behind them. Sonny’s stomach fluttered at the knowledge of the information that could probably break it all over again. The huge loopy grin that snuck onto his face felt ridiculous, but he really couldn’t help it.

Pete pulled a couple crumpled one dollar bills out of a deep pocket and started flattening them on the edge of the counter. “What time are you off?”

“Half an hour to go,” Sonny replied, urging the hour hand towards the four with all his might.

“I was thinking we could go somewhere to eat. I made a little money yesterday and all, spraying some furniture for a guy in my complex.”

Sonny’s ears perked at the sound of that. “Somewhere to eat? Like a food cart?”

“I was thinking more like a dine-in restaurant.”

They never went out to eat a full meal, preferring to gorge on bodega snacks or whatever they had lying around their apartments. A restaurant? That was unheard of. Sonny’s heart rate picked up.

“We’d leave at four thirty,” Pete continued. “Give us both time to freshen up a little.”

“Freshen up…” Sonny breathed.

“Do my ears deceive me?” Usnavi’s voice came from nearby as he came back out to grab a sharpened pencil from the cup by the register. “It almost sounds like you’re both maturing. Saving restaurant guests from smelling your B.O. and sweat? That’s too kind.”

Sonny’s heart kept beating quickly for a new and different reason, but Pete laughed it off easily. “I feel so hot and sticky right now, my appetite is zapped. Gotta be hungry before we can head out.”

“Well, have fun. Be home tonight, Sonny. You have a job again, and I need you in bright and early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it cuz. Relax. I’ll be in on time.” That got him an odd look. “What, Usnavi?”

“Nothing, it’s just. I remembered that you’re eighteen. I can’t boss you around anymore.”

“Not for a lack of trying,” Sonny said good-naturedly. 

“And I mean, I wouldn’t have trusted you to be on time before, but you made it today, so, I’ll give you the chance.”

Pete and Sonny fist bumped and whooped until Usnavi whacked them both on the head with his clipboard and reminded them it wasn’t four yet, and he was paying Sonny for that half hour. And so Pete said goodbye so he could run home to shower and change, and Sonny spent twenty minutes wiping down shelving units and buffing the glass mini-fridge door free of fingerprints. When the second hand touched the twelve at exactly four o’clock, he scrawled his signature on his timecard and took off, waving to a tired but smiling Usnavi. 

At the apartment, he toweled down his curls, thinking that Carla was right; they were almost to his eyebrows and needed to be cut. Looking in the mirror though, he was distracted by the look of nervous energy so plainly visible on his face. This was a date, almost definitely. It was a date, because they were getting dinner, and they were cleaning up, and they’d never done something like this before, and Sonny knew for a fact that Pete hating taking furniture commissions, because they were boring and a waste of paint and he couldn’t be creative. Yet here Sonny was, putting on a clean black tank and black basketball shorts, since he didn’t have anything classier, and all-black tended to look a bit nicer even if it was hot out.

It was a date. They were going on a date. He couldn’t believe it.

Four thirty came before he knew it, and Sonny took the elevator instead of the stairs in an effort to prolong the reappearance of pit stains. Pete was standing at the front gate, and Sonny almost laughed when he saw him, dressed to match in all black, though he was in cargo pants and not shorts.

“Yo, who died,” Sonny quipped, and Pete gave him an eye-roll for his troubles.

“Look, you want a free dinner or not?”

Sonny mimed zipping his mouth and settled into step with Pete as they took off walking down the block. Five minutes in, taking the elevator was for naught, because he was definitely sweaty again. The walk was comfortable, as they made quiet fun of an obvious family of tourists taking selfies by a street sign, then they caught a bus that dropped them off almost directly in front of the small pizza place they were eating at. As Pete stood in line, Sonny found seating at a tall table with towering chairs that forced him to maintain a casual expression as he clambered up with some difficulty.

Pete ordered four slices of a deep-dish veggie pizza and then came to join him at the table. When even Pete stumbled getting into his seat, Sonny felt vindicated in his own botched efforts. They messed around with the wire stand with their order number, knocking it back and forth to try and tip it on their opponent’s side of the table, until their slices were delivered, and their toy was deftly swooped away by a waiter.

The cheese was stringy, and great care had to be taken to keep from slopping it everywhere, but the meal was delicious and actually filling to boot. Pete slapped hands over his stomach, declaring he was too full to make it back to the bus stop, even if it was only fifteen feet away. Then he waited for Sonny to take another bite at which time he knocked his elbows and forced Sonny to get a faceful of pizza grease. 

Their departure was probably welcomed by the staff as they jogged the necessary distance to catch the bus heading home. 

“I knew we should’ve taken the subway,” Pete groused as they got stuck in stand-still traffic on the way back.

“Whatever,” Sonny shrugged. “We’re still hanging out. Makes the date last longer, right?” Then he promptly froze. They’d never actually specified it was a date; what if he’d somehow misinterpreted?

But Pete poked him impatiently in the side and reminded him that that was what his apartment was for, not a smelly bus. “Why’re you smiling?”

“Nothin’,” Sonny said, but he didn’t stop. Pete hadn’t protested. It was a date. An actual date.

When the neighborhood pulled into view, they hopped off, calling their thanks to the driver, and headed up to Pete’s place. He cranked the AC, and they planted themselves by a vent to cool off. Pete dragged his sweaty tank off, though Sonny was in no rush to match him. Dancing on fire escapes and police or Usnavi evasion had coupled with good genes to give Pete a body that could be on the displays in Times Square. His face might not be conventionally attractive, but his abdomen was probably capable of winning awards. Sonny had never been self-conscious about the residual baby fat that granted him a small soft give to his belly, but a weird part of his brain was trying to be. Even so, the sweet call of cool air beat insecurity out, and he was peeling his shirt off over his head. The relief was instantaneous, and they jostled each other for prime positioning.

“This is my apartment. I pay the bills.”

“I’m the guest, and your date, let me remind you.”

“Damn, you’re gonna play that card?”

“When you’re my height, you learn to fight dirty.”

“I like your height.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

“No,” Pete said, before repeating, with more emphasis, “I like your height.”

Sonny slid back towards the air as his face heated up. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Makes it more comfortable to hold you close when I do this.“ Pete reached out for Sonny’s jaw, and he came willingly, like a magnet was drawing him in.

“Do what?” Sonny breathed.

“Do this!” And then Pete was digging fingers both under his neck and into his stomach. Sonny seized instantly, realizing his mistake, but by then it was too late. The height advantage was enough for Pete to get the upperhand, and the tickling was relentless. When even the air was no longer able to keep them cool, Pete stopped, letting Sonny gulp oxygen and wipe tears from his eyes, arms crossed protectively around his body.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Pete crowed. “Were you expecting something else?”

“You jerk!” Sonny panted, a smile splitting his face. “You led me on!”

“You said you could fight dirty. I was just showing you that you’re not the only one who can.”

“Okay, okay. Get over here, you tease,” Sonny said, reaching out with grabbing motions.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Kissing was so much easier lately, what with the couple stolen makeouts behind the bodega during shift breaks. It was starting to feel so natural, and Sonny didn’t stress over it anymore. He’d figured out a pressure that felt pleasant, and his latest trick was a biting suck to Pete’s lower lip, which the other had confided he enjoyed.

“What’s the next step after kissing with tongue,” Sonny snorted, mocking Pete’s almost clinical progression breakdown.

“You gotta wait for our one month anniversary first.”

“It was two or three days ago, Pete.”

“Four, actually. Forgetting our anniversary already? You wound me.”

“Oh, shut up. And besides, you left me hanging for half a year not knowing what kind of relationship we were going for. I deserve a prize for being so damn patient with you.”

Pete scoffed and pushed lightly against Sonny’s forehead, rocking him in place. “Okay, fine. What comes after kissing is just more kissing.”

“Come on, man. Spill the—“ Sonny cut off as Pete caught his mouth in a kiss that went almost immediately for tongue.

“Kissing on more than the lips,” Pete clarified, then snuck a dry peck to Sonny’s cheek.

Sonny opened his mouth to complain further, but Pete reached over and covered it, using the handhold to turn his head to the side. Repositioning his grip, he tilted Sonny’s head and trailed gentle kisses down to his jaw.

“Okay, I can dig it,” Sonny said weakly. Pete smiled and hid it against his neck, and then the kisses grew stronger, with a hinting of suction, and Sonny was unconsciously pressing forward into them, his head lolling backwards to give Pete room to work. “If you’re doing—what I think you’re doing—Usnavi’s going to kill us both.”

“Relax, I’m not leaving marks.” Pete continued his kisses and nibbles and gentle suction until Sonny’s breathing pattern had noticeably sped up, and his arms were starting to shake. “There you go. Thoughts and opinions?”

Sonny knew he had a dorky grin on his face again. “Ten outta ten. Would highly recommend.”

Pete smiled back, ruffling Sonny’s hair, as he returned to basking in the air conditioning. “Good. Shit, man, it’s so easy to make you happy; I love it.”

Sonny frowned, feeling patronized. “Sorry. Geez. I don’t do this much.”

“Not like that, Sonny, no,” Pete backpedaled frantically. “You don’t need experience; you’re fine. It’s just a rush to getta introduce you to everything. Makes it new for me too.”

It didn’t make things completely better, but Sonny believed him, what with the large eyes and flapping hands. “Can I return the favor then?” Sonny asked, nodding towards Pete in a way he hoped conveyed his intentions.

“Knock yourself out.” Pete kicked his legs out in front of him, leaned back on his hands, and exposed his neck. Sonny crawled awkwardly over and stared down at him from his kneeling position.

He decided to to start with what he did know, and kissed Pete as thoroughly as possible before diving in. Pete’s jaw was fairly smooth under his lips, though there were some patches that weren’t quite as well shaved as others. Right underneath his jaw was a pulse point that stuttered when Sonny sucked on it. He trailed kisses up and down until he reached that spot again, and this time when he attached to it, he went a little overboard, and a faint mark appeared on Pete’s dark skin.

“Um,” Sonny started. “I may have made a mistake.”

Pete just snorted and rubbed at the area. “All’s good. Doesn’t really matter as long as it’s on me and not you.”

“It’s really not noticeable anyway,” Sonny assured him. “I just know it’s there, so I can find and see it.”

“Like I said. It’s good.” Pete went back to laying out on the ground, and Sonny joined him. They lay as close to each other as possible without touching. Sonny’s eyes drifted shut, and he briefly nodded off, waking to Pete asking him if he was ready for bed. Sonny answered in the affirmative, and Pete wandered to his crappy dresser to dig out two baggy t-shirts, both with half completed spray paint images that looked as if they’d been aborted due to mistakes. Pete threw him one, and Sonny gave him a questioning look. “I can’t be expected to get a perfect design on every shirt the first time, can I?”

Sonny conceded the point and pulled the shirt on. It granted him enough privacy to drop his shorts, settling onto the futon and scooting to leave room for Pete.

“You gonna brush your teeth?” Pete asked, heading for the bathroom. He got wrinkled nose and a middle finger for his efforts. “Whatever, man. Just don’t expect any good morning kisses.”

True to his word, Pete avidly avoided Sonny’s attempts at affection the next morning until the shorter boy had dragged himself to go freshen up. Once he came out, there were scrambled eggs on rice waiting at the hotplate for him. They munched their food down, and Sonny pulled on his clothes from the night before. They started their walk back with plenty of time to spare, and Sonny shot finger guns at Usnavi before doing a twirl around the bodega and clocking in five minutes early. 

Usnavi shook his head in amusement and disbelief. “Who are you, and what did you do to my little cousin?”

“Just you wait. Another growth spurt and you’re gonna be the little cousin around here.” It was wishful thinking. Usnavi still had five inches on him, and Sonny was pretty sure the height increase part of puberty had decided to skip him over altogether.

Once Pete had left, Usnavi cleared his throat and rapped his knuckles on the counter in front of Sonny. After cradling them gently with a wince, he leaned in conspiratorially. “So, we really haven’t hung out one-on-one since you got back, and I noticed we’re both getting a little shaggy in the hair department, so how about tomorrow we close up early morning and head down to the Bronx for a trim and some quality time?”

Sonny felt electric giddiness fly through his limbs, standing up so abruptly that his stool shot back and almost tipped over. “Hell yes. Absolutely. Just you and me? No Vanessa?”

 “Just you and me. I promise.”

Sonny flung out a hand for a fist bump, but Usnavi just dragged him into a hug anyway. “You’re so emotional, cuz,” he teased.

Usnavi clicked a tongue in reproach. “And you’re related to me, don’t forget. You’re emotional, too, and don’t you forget it, Mr. Romantic.”

“Hey! I seem to remember ‘Mr. Romantic’  getting you your first date with a certain Vanessa.”

“I would have done it myself! Eventually…”

“Uh huh. And who was it you asked to give you a crash course in dancing? Was it Benny? Nope! I think it was, ‘Mr. Romantic.’”

“I take it back. Vanessa and I are going to the Bronx alone. You can stay here with Pete, and someday when you graduate and move out, you can look back on the time you had with me that you wasted.”

“Geez, Usnavi. You oughta take up poetry.”

“I’ll leave that to you.”

Indignant, Sonny launched into a monologue about the nuances of poetry versus spoken word that was interrupted several times by the usual early morning customers. He gave it up as a lost cause by mid-afternoon, when his pause for Usnavi’s chat with Benny and Nina was elongated by Daniela marching into the bodega, eyes blazing and hand raised to wag a finger at Usnavi.

“So, the second we’re no longer neighbors you decide we don’t need to keep in touch anymore?”

Usnavi looked incredibly confused. “Daniela, what—“

“The salon moved to the Bronx, but I live in the same damn place as always. You didn’t even think to drop by.”

“I don’t know what you’re even talking about. I already said we’re coming tomorrow—“

“No one tells me any juicy barrio gossip anymore. I have to find out everything myself.” She crossed her arms in an exaggerated huff.

Usnavi bravely tried one more time. “Daniela. What gossip have you heard that’s got you so agitated?”

Daniela turned intently to look back and forth between the two. “Gossip? You know me, I don’t say nothing about nobody if I can help it.” The flat looks she received didn’t seem to faze her for a moment. “Well, let it be known that you asked for this. I didn’t just volunteer the information.” She paused for effect. “Jose and Julio are engaged!”

Eyebrows shot up around the group at the counter.

Benny let out a low whistle. “I can’t believe they’re that serious about each other. I thought they were just having a fling.”

“I’ll bet Yesenia never saw that coming,” Nina said shaking her head. “I certainly didn’t.”

Daniela tossed her hair. “They’ve asked me to tell everyone around the barrio. Claimed they wanted to save money on announcements.”

Usnavi had moved to grab a cold water bottle for Daniela to match the ones the rest of them had. “I feel awful for saying they wouldn’t last,” he mumbled, muffled inside the cooler. “I could have sworn it was just a lack of options. Are there any other gay people even around this block?”

Sonny kept his face neutral, feeling a numbing wave of fear slide across him.

“There have to be others,” Nina insisted. “Statistically speaking. There just isn’t enough LGBT visibility around this particular area.”

“Good thing we’ve got Sonny here.” Benny flung a companionable arm around Sonny’s shoulder, and he felt like he was about to vomit. “Our own little up-and-coming activist in the house.”

“Allies are sometimes important,” agreed Nina sagely. “They are responsible for helping to set up an environment that makes it comfortable for LGBT people to come out to begin with.”

“Your roommate was gay, wasn’t he?” Usnavi asked. “Patrick?”

Sonny’s first attempt to answer didn’t work out due to his dry throat. He took a sip from his water and tried again. “Yeah. He was and is. He lives in the Castro in San Francisco, and apparently they’ve got a higher population of queer people than straight there.”

Nina frowned slightly. “Sonny, you really shouldn’t use that word. It’s a slur for members of the community to choose whether or not they want to reclaim it.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Queer. At Stanford we have whole seminars regarding politically correct terminology, and there’s some words that only members of those groups have the absolute right to use.”

This particular Catch-22 of looking insensitive in front of Nina versus outing himself to four people he knew personally, though with Daniela there, it was practically the entire barrio, struck Sonny as being humorously ironic.

 He settled for an uncomfortable, “Oh. Okay.”

Daniela was bored of their current topic, and she leaned back in again. “If you’re all done, you ought to know, Yesenia’s still part of their little trio. It turns out they’re giving it a go at having a polyamorous relationship, even after the wedding.” Her face indicated her eagerness to hear their responses. 

Nina seemed thrilled to know that Yesenia hadn’t been kicked to the curb, while Benny looked like he was still trying to wrap his mind around it all. Usnavi was staring directly at Sonny, with a perceptive expression that seemed out of place on his normally oblivious face. Sonny got the distinct feeling that he would be hearing about it when everyone left.

Satisfied with her crowd, Daniela excused herself to continue spreading the news, promising to see Usnavi and Sonny for their appointments the following day. Nina and Benny started out the door after her, and then it was just the two cousins and a random customer who was taking too long to deliberate between gum flavors. She took just long enough to settle on spearmint for the clock to hit four, and Sonny was off like a shot, scribbling his name down on his timecard and bolting for the door. Usnavi gave him a weak smile and wave combo as he rung up the gum, shouting that he’d see him later at home.

Avoiding Usnavi was of course only a temporary solution. Even whipping out all the stops, like going to bed early, wouldn’t last forever, especially since they had plans to go for haircuts the next day. It occurred to Sonny, as he lay in bed, the AC rattling, that prolonging the inevitable only made him seem suspicious. The shower turned off in the adjacent bathroom, and the light that seeped in from the crack under the door went out a few minutes later. Light still shone in from the window, a streetlamp casting its glow in slanted shafts across Sonny’s face. He closed his eyes and could still see the brightness, but he was far too tired to turn away.

By the time Sonny woke up, it was almost ten in the morning, which meant Usnavi had already opened and closed the bodega for the day. The whole apartment smelled like pancakes, and Sonny was praying that meant a delicious breakfast before they headed out. 

He pulled on a tank that Pete had spray painted for him in memory of The Blackout, with its abstract depiction of the bodega, grate up and open, in the light of the fireworks. Wearing it always seemed to remind Usnavi of Pete’s positive involvement in that stressful weekend. A pair of baggy cargo shorts passed the sniff test and were deemed as wearable in public. Slapping a backwards hat on completed the look, and he headed out into the main apartment room.

“Smells good! Is that breakfast?”

“For the less lazy members of society, it’s considered lunch,” Usnavi replied from his post at the hot plate, but he was smiling as he spoke.

“Compromise and call it brunch?”

“Sounds like a deal.” Usnavi handed over a plate stacked high with five fat pancakes, and Sonny snatched it up and dropped onto the couch in a sprawl. Gathering his own plate, Usnavi came over to join him. “Just you and me today. Haircuts and lunch at our leisure.”

“So this is the life of lottery winners,” Sonny joked. “We can close early and enjoy a lazy afternoon in the Bronx.”

“Thank you, Abuela!” Usnavi laughed, blowing a kiss toward the ceiling. There were times where remembering the loss of Abuela Claudia still hurt, but for the most part Usnavi had kept his promise and was spreading memories of good times with her around the barrio. She wasn’t a taboo topic, but a life to be celebrated.

After cleaning up brunch dishes, Usnavi let them out the front door, locking it tightly behind them, and the cousins started off for the closest subway station. The walk was full of teasing digs and jokes, and Sonny was just getting comfortable with the fact that Usnavi had forgotten whatever it was he’d wanted to talk about the day before, when the mood of their conversation shifted to serious, and Usnavi was sending him a Vanessa-level stare.

“Sonny, about yesterday. Do you… no. Have you ever… nope nope nope. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

There was, Sonny knew. He wanted to talk about bisexuality. He wanted to talk about how he’d figured it all out. He wanted to spill about the Christmas party and the long year of uncertainty and then the welcome home dinner that had resulted in him no longer being single. Sonny wanted to brag to Usnavi all about his boyfriend and still be treated the same way as before, no awkwardness and no avoidance.

But he shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean. There’s nothing, really.”

“Listen, Sonny. Maybe I’m way off base here, but when you were talking to Nina about, about the gay community, I was wondering if there was something personal to that there.”

“Well, yeah, Patrick is gay; we’ve already covered that.”

“No, I meant for you personally. Sonny, I’m not trying to push! I just care about you, and I’d like to think that just because you’re all grown-up and going to college doesn’t mean you don’t trust me.”

There was no escaping it, Sonny realized. Usnavi seemed to have the basic gist down, and besides that, nothing would feel quite as good as actually telling someone. “You gotta promise not to freak out.”

“I swear it, Sonny.”

He took a deep, bracing breath and plowed right in. “I’m bisexual. I figured it out last year. It doesn’t change anything. About me, I mean. I’m still the same person you know. It’s just a label.”

Usnavi was quiet, but he didn’t look completely stunned. “I guess I didn’t expect you to confirm it.”

A sick, twist began in his gut, watching Usnavi process the news. “I’m still me,” Sonny insisted over the city clamor as they descended the stairs to the underground platform.

“I know, Sonny! I do, really. I’m just surprised. You were always so adamant that you were in love with Nina, and you were gonna marry her someday.”

Sonny groaned in embarrassment. “First of all, I was in middle school and marriage meant sharing piragua and sitting next to each other. Second, society kind of preprogrammed me to not think about being attracted to guys at all. Third, bisexual doesn’t mean I don’t still like girls.”

Usnavi nodded his tentative understanding.

“Is this gonna make things weird now?” Sonny mumbled nervously.

“No! No, I’m already messing this up. I’m not mad at you, and I’m not going to insist you’re wrong or anything like that. I’m just trying to absorb it. I’m happy for you, and god, Sonny, I feel like I’ve failed you, not teaching you about other sexualities and all that. It never occurred to me, and all the times I assumed you were just heterosexual… I’m sorry. It’s an injustice.”

“That’s it? It’s that easy? Shit, Usnavi, I thought it was going to be an incredibly awkward remainder of summer, and like, Abuela was Catholic so I was afraid there would be a conflict of—“

The platform of a New York subway train station was not a prime place for heartfelt conversations, but Usnavi made it one to the best of his ability, pulling Sonny close and apologizing for everything, for not teaching him more, for not being there for him, and for ever making him feel he wouldn’t be accepted for who he was. By the time they were stepping out into the Bronx, they’d both shed a few tears, and Sonny was feeling so comfortable in his skin that he was surprised he’d hadn’t noticed not feeling that way before. It gave him a spring to his step that even persisted when they got off the subway and headed to ground level.

The walk to the salon’s new location was close enough that they didn’t get too sweaty on the way there, bodies still pleasantly cooler from underground air conditioning. Usnavi looked wildly up and down from his phone, trying to match the GPS map to their current surrounding.

“It says we’re here, but I don’t see— oh, there it is.”

Salon Unisex sat on the corner of a long block of shops, blending in with the other concrete buildings. The sign out front that was advertising prices was written in a looping cursive with a hot pink marker, definitely Carla’s doing. Opening the front door released a blast of A.C. and the smell of shampoo, along with salsa music blasting from the radio on a shelf.

“Oh Carla! Do my eyes deceive me or is it my two prodigal sons, back from the dead!”

“You’re mixing your biblical metaphors there,” Usnavi joked back, pulling off his hat and running fingers through his hair until it stood up in a puff.

“Dani, in the parable, the prodigal son runs away from home and then comes back. It’s Lazurus and Jesus who return from the dead,” corrected Carla from the back corner where she was sweeping up hair.

Daniela shooed the conversation away with a flapping hand and marched up to Sonny, sweeping off his hat and pulling repeatedly on tufts of his hair. “Mmhm. You’re long overdue. Now, go hop in that chair so I can make you presentable again. Carla! Get Usnavi set up at station four while I wash out this mess he calls hair.”

Sonny made feeble protests as he was dragged into a seat, but Daniela was reclining him at lightning speed, knocking him back against the headrest. The water from the faucet was too hot on his scalp, but he held back a wince. Usnavi, getting his shampooing one chair over, was not so controlled and made an unpleasant whining sound. Daniela’s sharp nails massaged into Sonny’s head, rapidly lathering the soap in his hair. She didn’t slow down until she had him in a salon chair, pumped up to eye level, with a black plastic bib snug around his neck, at which point she smiled and clapped her hands.

“So! Carla, tell them about our new prices.”

“For barrio patrons, we’ve raised the price of a haircut to twelve dollars plus some local news,” Carla chirped as she combed Usnavi’s wet hair straight down in front of his eyes.

“That’s right. Now pay up, or you’ll both be wearing hats for the next few weeks.”

The sinister snipping of scissors by Sonny’s ears and the sudden hum of the razor by Usnavi’s inspired both of them to think quickly.

“How are you and Vanessa?” prompted Carla mercifully at their continued silence.

“We’re doing well. She’s been busy with her mom a lot lately, but we’ve been hanging out in the evening at one of our places.”

“He has a dinner date this weekend,” Sonny chimed in, choosing to leave out the fact that he did as well.

“No me diga! Carla, have you heard about this? No one has even mentioned the possibility of an upcoming dinner date to me. Not once.”

“Dani, Vanessa’s been talking about it all week now. She’s told us about it every time she’s stopped by.”

Daniela looked unimpressed. “Honey, that was sarcasm. Now come on Sonny. Give me something here.”

He chewed his chapped lower lip in thought. “Benny came in for condoms the other day.”

“Excellent to hear, but it’s not the most exciting news.”

“Well, he’d just bought a box the day before.”

“Ohhhhhhh!” Daniela and Carla looked at each other, eyes wide.

“How many per box?” Daniela asked.

“Three-pack. Multi-colored.”

“Mmhm! I hear Benny’s got plenty of gas in his taxi!” Daniela said, as Carla laughed heartily along, looking slightly confused. “You get a real haircut now. And I’ll even shape the back nicely.”

Usnavi groaned from the adjacent station. “Sonny, stop sharing confidential purchases.”

“Now as for you,” Daniela said, shaking her scissors at him, “I’m going to make it all choppy for your restaurant date.”

Usnavi floundered for the remaining of the haircut, trying to think of anything he could, but Daniela had already heard it all. Despite her threats, she still shaved his hair evenly, and he got a shaped hairline as well. Carla rang them up at the front register as Daniela picked at Sonny’s shortened curls, letting them spring back into place.

“Now next time, you come back before you start looking like used mops,” she clucked, then Daniela popped a hip and gave them both a sincere look. “Thank you for coming all the way out here. I know there’s hundreds of salons closer than ours.”

Usnavi gave her a stretchy smile paired with sad, tilted eyebrows. “Daniela, we’d travel upstate if that’s where you were.”

“Now you’re just buttering me up. Get out of here before I shove brooms in your hands and make you clean up your own messes.”

The pair left quickly, waving goodbye to the two women, before walking back to the subway. Sonny stared at his reflection in the glass window and kept running his hand through his hair, feeling the tingling prickles of a fresh haircut. He attempted to take a fistful and was pleased to find that it had just enough length to tug with a fist, fortunate, since he loved when Pete gave it little tugs while they madeout. Usnavi stood next to Sonny, scratching at his itching back and neck where the tiny hair trimmings had managed to fall despite the bib.

“Dibs on the first shower,” Usnavi called as he pushed open the apartment door. Sonny conceded and headed to the kitchen to warm up some dinner. Two quick showers later, the sweat and hair from the day was washed away, and they reclined on the couch to chat over the Ghostbusters rerun on tv.

“Okay, not to bring up sore subjects,” Sonny began, “but do you really not mind the whole bisexual thing? I’m just trying to get a read on you here.”

Usnavi shook his head rapidly as he struggled to chew the huge mouthful of food he’d just shoved in. “Sonny, I’m serious. One hundred percent. I don’t mind. I love you, and if being, being, bisexual, is part of who you are, then I love that too.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind the idea of me dating a guy.”

The hesitation was just slightly longer than Sonny would have preferred.

“No, I guess I wouldn’t. Depending on who it was.”

That was exactly what Sonny was afraid of, and it didn’t make the idea of mentioning Pete too appealing, but at the same time, he felt desperate to tell his cousin. He cared more about Usnavi’s opinion than he would have liked to admit.

Usnavi narrowed his eyes. “Sonny. Are you dating someone. A guy in particular.”

“Man, aren’t you supposed to be oblivious to this kind of thing? I’m the one who’s good at reading people, not you.”

“Oh, but I can read you. I know you well enough. Stop avoiding the question. Who is he?”

Sonny jammed his mouth full of food to prolong his time thinking.

“Sonny. Sonny, it better not be who I think it is.”

Spreading his arms wide in an exaggerated shrug, Sonny gave an awkward smile with his puffed cheeks and gestured to his shirt.

“Oh my god… How long has this been going on?”

Forcing a swallow through pure rage, Sonny jumped up from his seat on the couch. “About a month and six days, I think. And you can’t say I can’t see him. He’s my best friend, and I actually care about him. You can’t mess this up for me now.”

Usnavi’s face melted from anger to disappointment and hurt. “Please, give me a little more credit, Sonny. How much have you been hiding from me because of how I might react? Benny is my friend, and I spent years watching him pine after Nina as her dad banned them from interacting. I’ve seen what happens if you try to stop two people who lov— who care about each other.”

A thin thread of embarrassment crept up Sonny’s spine. Usnavi had never shown any indication of not accepting him, and yet he’d been certain he’d be instantly ostracized if he’d told. “So you don’t mind that I’m dating Pete?”

Usnavi made a sound that wasn’t entirely positive or negative and closed his eyes to breathe. “I can’t say I’m thrilled about your choice in, in, in males, as it were. But I’m not going to lock you in your room and say you can’t see him. A month? A whole month? Is he kind to you?”

Sonny dropped his vision and tried to fight the warming blush climbing to his ears, sitting back down on the couch, anger forgotten. “Yeah, he is. He… We went out to eat once. Just pizza downtown, but it was nice. He paid.”

The resulting elbowing forced him to look back at Usnavi. “What else?” When Sonny shook his head, losing the war against his blush, Usnavi prodded him more firmly. “You make me tell you everything about Vanessa! I just like to know you’re happy.”

“I am. Pete’s great. We have a good dynamic. It’s just like when we were only friends, just, you know. More.”

Usnavi’s smile dropped. “Wait. What kind of more are we talking about here.”

“Not like that! Just, simple kissing and stuff.”

“Oh god, I take it back. Don’t tell me anything. I don’t wanna know.”

“Ooh!” Sonny teased, leaning into Usnavi’s space and making kissy faces. “I make out with my boyfriend! All the time! Sometimes you think I’m on break, but I’m kissing Pete out back!”

Usnavi had his hands over his ears, shouting to block out the sound. “Labor laws be damned, I’m never giving you breaks again!”

“I’ll have him come inside then!”

“I’ll get a restraining order!”

“I’ll ban Vanessa from the bodega!”

“You can’t do that. I’m the owner!”

“I make her her coffee! Oh, I know. I’ll start charging her!”

“Why you—“ Usnavi lunged forward and their plates tumbled off the couch as he tickled Sonny mercilessly. Sonny tried to tap out to no avail until they’d both worn themselves out and half lay, breathing heavily, on an armrest.

“My boyfriend tickles me too, you know,” Sonny couldn’t help but add, prompting a whole new round of horrified noises from his cousin. The words felt so good rolling off his tongue. His boyfriend, who happened to be Pete. And Usnavi was here teasing and joking with him as if it was not a big deal at all. Just as normal as him dating a girl. It meant a lot to Sonny, and he was pretty sure Usnavi knew, judging by the soft smile he shot him as they headed to bed.

“I had a great day with you today,” Usnavi said. “I really missed spending time with you. Time where we aren’t trying to ring up a customer or restock shelving units.”

“I had fun too, ‘Navi. Thanks for breakfast earlier.”

“Lunch.”

“Brunch.”

Sonny went to bed feeling light as a feather, with an enormous smile on his face that didn’t fade even as he fell asleep.

In retrospect, he really should have warned Pete that he’d spilled the beans to Usnavi, because the next day in the bodega, Sonny looked up from his post at the counter to see him crossing the street and walking toward them. Usnavi also noticed and leaped up from his seat, standing in front of Sonny with his arms folded.

“Yo, yo, yo! What’s up, Usnavi? Is Sonny in?” Pete asked, trying to lean around him to look at the counter.

“Hey, Pete, uh. So, funny story—“ Sonny started, before Usnavi held up a hand.

A single finger poked Pete squarely in the chest as he was backed against the front door.

“You will treat him like the catch he is. You’re not going to impede his education in any way, and you will make sure he’s always safe when you’re with him,” Usnavi declared darkly, his hat pulled low over his eyes, like he’d arranged it that way to try and look menacing.

“I— I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pete stammered.

Sonny gave a light cough. “I may have told him about us.”

Pete’s entire demeanor changed, and he stiffened considerably, scratching at his head and laughing humorlessly. “Right. Uh, yeah, I’ll take good care of him, I promise. He takes care of me too, you know. He’s something special. We get along well.”

As if something in this stilted speech reassured him, Usnavi tilted his hat back and stepped away. “You make him happy, and you’re damn lucky I can’t be mad at anyone who helps do that.”

The genuine chuckle Pete let out at that made Sonny’s knees a little weak, so he was glad he was sitting on a stool.

“Okay,” said Pete. “Is there anything else?”

Usnavi sighed and shook his head. “You’re still a punk and a vandal, but, I’ve seen first hand the kinds of things you do when you really care.”

Sonny let out a rush of air from his lungs. He was almost positive that Pete had just passed Usnavi’s tests, and that boded surprisingly well for the road ahead. He shot a look in Pete’s direction to find him sending a smile and raised eyebrow back.

“I didn’t realize we were telling people now. Is that a thing?”

Pulse jackhammering in his chest, Sonny gave an odd and jerky shrug. “I’ve only told Usnavi, and that’s just because he’s family. Telling the whole barrio, though? I don’t know…”

Sensing the tense topic, Usnavi excused himself to head into the backroom, muttering about restocking toiletries.

“We don’t have to tell anyone you don’t wanna,” Pete assured him. “We can keep it secret if you feel safer that way.”

Sonny didn’t want to feel safer. He wanted to paint signs promoting bisexuality in Latino populations. Images of Pride walks and awareness campaigns flashed through his mind’s eye. Pete shifted closer as if trying to understand what he was thinking about, and Sonny imagined feeling comfortable enough to just lean up and kiss him, just an innocent peck, right there in a public and visible space where anyone could just walk by and see. That was what he wanted, that safe normalization that hetero couples enjoyed, like Benny and Nina who could hang out one another and kiss in restaurants and buy condoms without embarrassment. They hadn’t felt the pressure to personally tell everyone that they were dating; they’d just started, and allowed the rest of the barrio to catch on.

“We’re not gonna tell anyone, but we’re not keeping it secret either,” Sonny decided. “We let them notice and ask us. Otherwise, we just do our thing.”

Pete looked like he was glowing, his smile was so wide. “Sounds like a plan. First step, our dinner this weekend? We hit up that fancy restaurant about ten blocks down. And we actually dress up. Jeans and a clean t-shirt. It’s gonna be an obvious date, not just pizza.”

“I don’t know if that actually counts as dressing up, but it sounds good to me,” Sonny grinned. “Also, I’m paying this time. Just got my paycheck and everything.”

“Come on, man. You need that money for books and shit.”

“I have almost two months to make more! Besides, you got a rent to pay and utilities to cover, especially your AC if you want me to keeping hanging around.”

“Okay, okay. You win. This date’s on you.”

Sonny pumped his fist in victory and spun around on his stool. “Two days until we go public. Casually public, but still.” He was pretty sure that telling other people was important to Pete. Pete was a fairly private person, so Sonny couldn’t claim to understand why, but just watching the way his face had lit up when they’d decided to not keep their relationship under wraps had spoken volumes.

“So, why wait for Saturday, when I could kiss you right now?” Pete asked calmly, picking paint out from under his nails.

“Now?” Sonny said, alarmed by the voice crack he suffered mid-word. “Usnavi’s in the backroom.”

“Just a casual lip to lip kiss. A peck. If you’re not comfortable with it, it’s fine; no pressure, man.”

“I needed a second to warm up to it is all. Get over here.”

Sonny hauled Pete down by the sides of his sleeveless jacket, standing precariously on the thin bar around the base of his stool. The open glass windows seemed larger than usual, showing a vast scope of the street outside. Anyone could see in right now, and that was almost exactly what Sonny wanted. “I wanna show you off,” he said between kisses. “Flaunt my boyfriend in front of the whole barrio.”

Pete snorted and broke their chain of kisses to just hug him over the countertop. “You might wanna find a better-looking one in that case.”

Sonny jerked back. “Yo, have you seen yourself? Who could even come close to you and that body. Besides, I like you for your passion and adventurousness more.”

“Easy does it. It was just self-deprecating humor. I know I’m hot as the blacktop in summer, and I’m the sweetest guy this side of the Atlantic. I’m fishing for compliments over here.”

“Well, enjoy them, cause those are the last you’ll be getting.”

“Is it safe to come out?” called Usnavi, and Sonny rolled his eyes and told him it was. He emerged with a box of tourist trap souvenirs and moved toward the displays at the front. “You never get to make fun of Vanessa or me again.”

“Ooh, man, I plan to be rubbing that shit in your face this Saturday when I help you head off on your date.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Right. You’re just gonna figure out what to wear and how your hair looks and if you should bring her a present and if so what it should be and—”

Usnavi dropped a handful of personalized keychains on the ground, and a David skittered under a postcard rack. “Okay. Maybe I could use a bit of help.”

“No can do, cuz. I’m gonna be busy. I got a date too.”

“You do not.”

“He’s does, actually,” laughed Pete.

Usnavi pretended he wasn’t sulking, even as he obviously pouted, one arm groping for the missing keychain. A package of Katies dropped out from under his other arm and spread across the floor. He was still rolling around in various plastic white names when Yesenia walked in, hanging off Jose’s arm.

“Yesenia! Jose! How’s Julio doing?”

Jose rubbed a hand across the dark circles under his eyes and sighed. “He’s had a nasty cold for a few days now. We’re just stopping in for a decongestant.”

Yesenia snickered. “And some good strong drinks wouldn’t go amiss either.”

“Go grab what you want,” Jose said calmly, sending her in the direction of the liquor cases. Sonny pulled a NyQuil package off the back wall and held it out for him, but Jose frowned. “You have any of the liquid stuff?”

“Sure thing,” Sonny said, hopping down from the stool and heading for the backroom. There were a few bottles in an open box under the sink, so he grabbed some to restock and came back out.

Jose was talking about the wedding plans, and Yesenia was gushing about how handsome they looked in their suits.

“The invitations were gorgeous,” Usnavi said kindly. “Gold leaf and everything. You guys are going all out.”

“Weddings are too damn expensive, I swear. It’s a good thing we’re just having the one, instead of marrying all three of us. We’d be flat broke. Or I guess, more broke than we already are,” Jose joked as Sonny rung up their hard liquor and medicine.

“I.D. please,” he asked out of habit, realizing his mistake when Jose gave him an incredulous look.

“I guess we need to stop in more often. De la Vega’s forgotten how old I am.”

Yesenia poked him in the side and laughed at Sonny. “Stop inflating his ego. He can’t pass as under twenty-one anymore; he’s far too old!”

“Speak for yourself! This youthful face doesn’t look a day over twenty.” Jose inspected himself in the mirror on the sunglasses stand. “By the way, isn’t our very own Graffiti Pete just turning twenty-one now himself?”

Usnavi halted, squeezing the life out of an Abigail keychain. “Twenty-one?”

“Oh, come on,” Sonny groused. “You knew that already, man.”

Usnavi didn’t look well. “That’s the legal drinking age.”

“Usnavi, I can count on one hand the number of kids who actually pay attention to that,” Sonny hissed.

Yesenia and Jose looked back and forth between Sonny, Usnavi, and Pete, who was currently trying to blend into the magazine rack.

“It’s not just the drinking, Sonny, although please let me forget you just alluded to underage drinking involving you in any way. I’m thinking about club admission.”

Usnavi’s newly developed fear of clubs was something Sonny was all too aware of, considering the fact that an attempt to return to one after the blackout had resulted in Vanessa bringing him back home early, where they cuddled and watched tv for the evening instead.

“I’m not going to any clubs, Navi. They’re not gonna let an eighteen year old in uncarded anyway.”

“I thought we were talking about Pete here?” Jose commented, eyebrow raised. He sent a meaningful look in Pete’s direction, where the ex-vandal was engaging himself in “reading” an upside down copy of Esquire. “Oh my, oh my. What have we here?”

Sonny was fighting down the color threatening to rise on his cheeks, mentally reminding himself that they were going public soon anyway.

“Am I reading this wrong?” Jose asked, not letting it go.

Usnavi was looking at Sonny with a terrified expression, clearly concerned that he’d just outed his cousin.

Yesenia tried to intervene, telling Jose not to be nosy, but Sonny’s bright red ears and Pete’s avoidant rifling through the magazine were doing little to discourage curiosity. Positive that Pete’s dramatic display was born from a wish to blurt out the truth, Sonny leaned out onto the counter, straightening his backward hat with his best attempt at a smug grin.

“Usnavi’s worried Pete’s gonna try and sneak me into a club, when there are obviously much better places for dates around the neighborhood.”

Yesenia’s whoop reverberated off every glass surface, and Jose’s wasn’t much softer. “Did I not call it three years ago?” he smirked.

“I didn’t know you back then,” Yesenia said primly.

“Well, okay, but ask Julio when we get home. I called it.”

Sonny looked perplexed. “How did you know, if I didn’t?”

“Lack of a girlfriend, yet flirtatious personality. Close relationship to same-sex best friend. Liberal minded and no pressure to conform to societal norms.”

“But I’m not even gay. I’m bi.”

Jose laughed and actually embraced him over the counter. “I don’t doubt it. You were always a ladies’ man too. But that’s how I knew you weren’t straight.”

“Oh my god. The first barrio people I come out to besides Usnavi, and you weren’t even surprised.”

Pete had come over by now, and he reveled in the ability to lean his chin on his boyfriend’s head in full view of the others. Yesenia was swinging her bag of alcohol and NyQuil around her with happiness. With a little clink, Usnavi slipped Abigail onto the correctly labeled peg, giving the plastic a loving pat. It felt completely normal, and Sonny reveled in it. Customers shopping and chatting, Usnavi picking up stock he’d dropped in a dramatic fit, and Pete right there, close and comfortable.

That cozy feeling persisted all the way to Saturday, when Sonny jolted awake with the realization that he had a date planned for that evening. He dragged himself to work despite the excitement and anticipation broiling in his stomach. Benny noticed his unnatural grin, already stretched across his face at six thirty am.

“And what’s got you so happy, little homie?”

Adrenaline fueled confidence and a burst of pride loosened Sonny’s tongue. “Yo Benny, I don’t mean to brag, but I kinda got a date tonight.” The smile was starting to hurt, and Sonny was wondering how the hell he was going to survive until the evening.

Benny was not smiling. Benny was gaping. His eyes were huge, and his tonsils were basically on display. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Usnavi was also gaping from his position at the coffee machine, not expecting Sonny to bring Pete up so openly.

“I got a date tonight.”

“Does— does Usnavi know about this?” Benny asked, making confused eye contact with his friend.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. Hey man, that’s gonna be three dollars and seventy-five cents.”

Digging through his pockets, Benny cleared his throat casually and asked, “So, am I allowed to ask who it is?”

Sonny’s pulse was racing, but he didn’t feel anxious. He couldn’t help but be amazed by how invincible he felt. “Yeah, it’s with Pete.”

To his credit, Benny barely reacted, though it took all his willpower to avoid making a scene. He dropped his crumpled bills into Sonny’s outstretched hand. “Pete, as in, Graffiti Pete? The spray can vandal?”

“Yep. Only Pete I know. Here’s your change. Have a great day!”

Benny had switched to trying to catch and hold Usnavi’s eye, but the other man was staring in the container of coffee grounds with exaggerated concentration. “Wow, that’s great, Sonny. I’m really happy for you. For real. I am. Have fun tonight, you hear?”

“Will do! Thanks for stopping in. See you tomorrow!” Sonny chirped.

Benny stumbled out of the bodega, smiling but still obviously in shock. After all, he hadn’t even opened his Milky Way yet.

Sonny returned to his lovesick position at the register, chin resting on his palm. Usnavi pulled Sonny’s hat off and whapped him on the head with it. “Getting gutsy there, huh?”

“Is there a problem with that?” Sonny asked, trying to hide the sudden nervous bubble in his stomach.

“Absolutely not,” Usnavi said, dispelling any worry he’d had. “I’m glad you’re feeling comfortable.”

Then in a loud jangling fury, the front door swung open as Vanessa raced in. “I just passed Benny on my way from the station, and he was mumbling some shit about Sonny being so head over heels that he was providing customer service.”

“He’s that surprised about who I’m dating?”

Vanessa popped a hip and cocked an eyebrow, a truly dangerous combo. “He didn’t say anything about who you’re dating. He seemed more shocked you were dating anyone at all. I’d like to second that notion. This a new thing?”

“It’s been a little over a month.”

“Huh. You’d have thought that I’d have heard about this,” she said, looking at Usnavi. He held out her coffee, and her serious face cracked into a smile. She pecked him on the cheek, and he grinned back goofily as he straightened his hat for no reason. Vanessa settled sideways into his arms, a semi-embrace, before turning back to Sonny, interrogation mode on. “Who is she, Sonny?”

The pronoun rubbed oddly in Sonny’s brain, but he scrambled for some of his earlier bravado and pushed forward. “Not a she. I’m dating Pete.”

Vanessa pursed her lips in evident surprise, but moved right along. “I assume you mean your best friend, Pete? Graffiti Pete?”

Sonny nodded.

“Well, you certainly threw Benny for a loop. Did anyone even know that you’re gay.”

“Not gay. I’m bisexual. Girls are just as great, you feel?”

Vanessa actually tossed her head back in a laugh. “Oh trust me, Sonny. I feel.”

Usnavi’s eyebrows were almost inside of his hat.

“No worries,” she said, pulling his head onto her shoulder so she could hug him close. “It’s just you, Navi.” Then she threw Sonny a wink and groped Usnavi’s rear. He made an odd sound and hid his face in her neck. “Well, I’ll see you two later. You remember I have plans to borrow this Dominican piece of ass tonight, right Sonny?”

“Please. Take him off my hands!” he laughed, throwing them up in the air. 

“I’ll return him tomorrow morning, bright and early,” she promised, and Sonny waggled his eyebrows at a beaming Usnavi.

Vanessa threw off a mock salute and swung out the door, complimentary coffee in hand.

Usnavi immediately spun around towards the counter. “Sonny. I never— I haven’t— You’ve got plans tonight too, and if you go to the apartment—“ He looked around nervously, rubbing his palms together like he was trying to start a campfire. “I know you’re eighteen. But please, just, be careful?”

Sonny kept his face intentionally blank. “Got it, Navi.”

It didn’t seem to be very reassuring. Usnavi crossed behind the counter and pulled a box of condoms and a bottle of lube off their respective pegs. “Put these somewhere. I’ll add ‘em to your tab.” 

“Um. Usnavi, we don’t. We haven’t. I’ve kissed him. That’s it.”

“Oh. Okay, well. Just take them. In case.”

With a stilted nod, Sonny buried the two boxes deep in one of his pockets, hyperconscious of their corners against his leg. “Thanks. Seriously. I know you’re trying.”

Usnavi let out a frustrated noise as he slid a palm across his face. “You have no clue how hard this is. Not the gay thing! Sorry, bisexual thing. The dating Pete, who happens to be a guy thing. I mean, even just dating in general. And you’re not a minor anymore so I feel kind of helpless, but I care about you so much, and I want you to stay safe and healthy, so please. I am trying. Work with me here, Sonny.”

“You worry too much.” He shot Usnavi finger pistols and headed for the door. “I’m gonna go drop these off at the apartment, so I don’t have to carry them around all day. Relax, okay?” The uncertain grin he received seemed like answer enough, so Sonny started home, the air already growing warmer and two boxes weighing his pants down in a way that made him very aware of their existence. 

Sonny squeezed through the front door and made it to his room before stopping to catch his breath. Usnavi was right. There was a very real chance of him and Pete coming back to this apartment after their date. It was within walking distance of the restaurant, and there was no way they’d rather catch a bus to Pete’s when Sonny lived so close, especially if Usnavi was going home with Vanessa. He noticed his hands were shaking as he opened the condom box, slipping the connected packet strips into the left hand drawer under his bed. The lube bottle followed, making a soft clunk as he dropped it from standing height. Sonny crouched and covered everything with a few pairs of socks, then broke down the boxes and squished them into his trash can under tissues and food wrappers.

He surveyed the actual cleanliness of his room as a whole. His small bookcase was fine, piled with more sketchpads and journals than actual books. His skateboard was tucked against it, basically out of the way. Papers, cords, and records were scattered on his small desk, but some quick stacking made it look much neater. His actual record player was pushed against the wall, and Sonny took a few minutes to toss the food garbage lying around and to take old dishes out to the kitchen sink. The clothes were a bit harder. Hardly any of the articles passed the sniff test, and they had to be thrown in the laundry hamper. The rest were poorly folded and hidden away in the drawers under his bed.

The room looked much more presentable, though it seemed a little blank, what with the walls empty of posters still packed from his time in the Wesleyan dorms.

Sonny made it back to the bodega, where Usnavi ribbed him about why it had taken him so long. Then it was business as usual, feeding a hoard of high schoolers enjoying their vacation, then supplying tourists with essentials they’d lost along with their luggage. Barrio regulars stopped in, but the one person Sonny kept expecting, Nina, never appeared. He’d assumed Benny would have run to tell her immediately, but that was either not the case, or she hadn’t felt the need to come see him that day. The anticipatory wait for her opinion was the worst.

Instead of Nina’s arrival, the other event Sonny was awaiting came instead. The clock struck four, and his shift was over. For once Usnavi was also done for the day, and they both closed up, rolling down the grate and heading home to prep for their respective dates. 

Sonny helped Usnavi pick a deep blue shirt and nice slacks, and Usnavi forced him into one of his own charcoal button-ups, before producing a tie. He was pretty sure there was nothing more uncomfortable than a tie, but then Usnavi had found a older pair of dress pants, and it turned out you couldn’t wear boxers without ruining the lines, so Sonny had to dig out some briefs instead, and the only pair he owned were bright red.

No sooner was Sonny dressed, then Vanessa was calling and asking to be rung up. Usnavi let her in, and she let out a low whistle of approval for both of them, smoothing some of Sonny’s wayward curls.

“The De la Vega’s clean up nicely, don’t they?” She blatantly ogled Usnavi, who was doing the same back, considering the fact that she was in a beautifully cut black dress that flared when she twirled. “Do we want to get out of here, or are we waiting for Sonny to get picked up?”

Sonny was feeling rather anxious, all too aware that Pete had suggested a t-shirt for their formal wear, and here he was trapped in a tie and suit pants. Usnavi seemed to easily read this apprehension and suggested they get going and leave Sonny to have his fun. He promised to see him tomorrow, and then the couple was gone. Sonny sat on the arm of the couch and picked at fuzzes that had alighted on his pants, until the buzzer rang, and Pete announced his arrival.

Even if he’d start sweating the moment they stepped outside, Sonny still opted for the elevator down, wishing desperately for more casual clothing.

When he reached the ground floor and stepped outside, he felt an instant sense of calm at the sight of Pete, in light gray slacks and a white collared shirt, put together with a pair of black suspenders.

“Oh my god,” Pete said. “I’m so glad you actually dressed up too. I thought I was going to look over the top.”

Sonny laughed to release the remainder of the nervous tension. “Man, same here. I was real pissed with Usnavi for making me go through with this.”

“Those Usnavi’s? Nice. I raided a thrift store and found these.”

Both of them cracked up at their inexperience with dressing up, and then Sonny was double checking that he had his wallet so they could set off for the restaurant. Pete had actually called in a reservation, so they practically walked right in, and a waitress led them to a booth. Sonny kept expecting someone to stare at them for both being male and kick them out or cause a scene, but it never happened.

“This is some legit white person bullshit,” Pete laughed once they were alone and seated. “I’ve never been in a fancy place like this in my life.”

Sonny snorted in agreement, because the atmosphere was so different from anything he was used to, before he picked up his menu and started reading. They decided on a pasta dish and a steak dish, with the intention to share with each other. Pete ordered a water for each of them in the interest of not driving the price up. 

They were sitting and waiting for their food, joking around in a rather reserved manner, when Pete visibly paled, and muttered, “Trouble at twelve o’clock.”

It took Sonny a second to realize that the metaphorical clock was from Pete’s perspective, not his, but then he turned around and peered under the glass divider separating their booth from the one behind him. Even further back, at a table, not against the wall, sat Vanessa and Usnavi, the latter whom was gesticulating wildly, obviously mid-story.

“Holy fuck,” breathed Sonny. “I guess we never did compare date plans.”

“Well, now he can’t judge me for takin’ you here, since he brought Vanessa too.”

“Actually I’m takin’ you here. I think you’ll recall that I’m paying.”

Pete grinned. “Well, then, thanks for the dinner date tonight.”

“Not a hardship in the least.”

Their meal arrived shortly afterward, and mouthwatering food was more than enough to distract them from the proximity of Usnavi and Vanessa.

Everything was delicious, and Sonny feasted just as much on the chance to live the high-class life as he did on the pasta and steak. Pete finished off the rest after he got too full to continue. 

“Yo, you sure eat a lot. You’re gonna need to loosen those suspenders.”

“How about I reach over and tighten your tie real good for you?” 

The plan had been to outlast the other couple, but Sonny could only sit and mooch the air conditioning for so long. He paid the waiter and struggled through the math to calculate tip.

“I thought you were in some super high-level math class,” said Pete, mockingly.

“Shut up. The harder math you’re into, the less of this easy shit you remember,” sulked Sonny as Pete did it for him. “I’m on summer vacation. Cut me some slack.”

“Sure thing. Let’s get outta here before Usnavi sees us.”

It wasn’t Usnavi they had to worry about. It was Vanessa. And she did see them, calling out a greeting as they tried not to jog for the door. She was laughing and waving, and Usnavi looked so shocked to see them that it was humorous to look at his face.

Pete and Sonny burst out of the restaurant, trying to catch their breath from their snickers. They walked back to Sonny’s apartment complex, passing the bodega where Pete had stowed his backpack with a change of clothes in it. 

“Holy shit. Did you see his mouth? He stopped midchew!” Sonny hiccuped.

“I’m a little offended, to be honest. I don’t think he expected me to take you out somewhere nice.”

“Excuse you, I took you out tonight, as you keep forgetting.”

Pete conceded once again, and then they were jostling shoulders all the way back. Sonny keyed them inside, and they both groaned as the cool air conditioning blew over them.

Pete tugged at his collar with a crooked finger. “First things first, clothes come off.”

Sonny’s eyebrows shot up. “Geez Pete, moving a little fast there?” he teased.

“Not like that! Shut up. Stop laughing! I didn’t mean it like that!”

Sonny, of course, did not stop laughing. He did race Pete up the flights of stairs, figuring that they couldn’t get much sweatier anyway. Pete won, and as Sonny cursed long legs and athletic genes, he grabbed the key and opened the front door. Jokes aside, the first thing they did do was strip and pull on more comfortable clothing. Tank tops came out, shorts were worn, and Pete’s sleeveless jacket made its appearance. 

They lounged casually on Sonny’s bed, and he was glad he’d made an effort to tidy his room earlier. Pete was on his back whistling and tapping a socked foot in time on the wall that Sonny was leaning against, fiddling with a corner of Pete’s jacket where a hard splatter of light gray paint was stuck. The silence was nice after the loud restaurant, and it was comfortable to just sit and think and bask in the cool air rattling out of Sonny’s window unit.

Pete was still distractedly whistling when he reached up a hand and brushed it gently against Sonny’s side. It didn’t really tickle, but it felt odd anyway, and Sonny tried not to shrink back. Pete didn’t seem to realize what he was doing, sliding the back of his hand over Sonny again, right over where his skin bunched over the band of his shorts. He desperately reminded himself he wasn’t self-conscious. He wasn’t. It didn’t matter that he was more barrel-chested and had some meat on his bones. It didn’t matter that his boyfriend had a dancer’s build, and was all lithe limbs and taut muscle. Pete’s whistling cut off.

“Hey,” he said, sitting up. “Is it too hot for sitting closer, or nah?”

“Like, what, cuddling?”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said ‘sitting closer.’”

“It was implied.”

It was Sonny’s turn to let the matter drop, and he slid next to Pete, who reached out his arms to pull him in close. Fingers dipped into his hair, not quite able to comb through the curls.

“Sonny, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without hat hair.”

“Shut up. I’m not gonna wear a hat to a fancy dinner.”

Pete shrugged in answer and manipulated Sonny into a better position, so his head was resting on his chest. Pete scooted back into the corner to better support his back, still messing lightly with Sonny’s hair. “Hey, come up here so I can kiss you.”

Sonny grumbled. “No. I’m comfortable and that feels nice.”

The fingers didn’t stop carding through his hair, but they did tug a little now and then.

A few minutes passed, and Pete tried again. “Sonny, please come up here.” Arms squeezed tighter around his waist, seemingly unwilling to move. Pete had just accepted that Sonny really didn’t feel like moving, when the curls under his fingers tilted back, and there were light kisses being pressed into his neck.

“Compromise?” Sonny mumbled against Pete’s jaw.

“Sounds good to me,” he whispered back.

The kisses grew slightly wetter, and the first hints of suction made Pete lean his head back into the wall to expose more of his throat.

“Fuck you, man I was comfortable,” Sonny complained, unable to help himself as he rolled onto his knees for a better height to kiss him on the mouth.

Pete breathed between kisses, “Hey. I didn’t. Make you. Get up. I was. Fine with. What we were. Doing.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t. You were too far away.” Sonny ran thumbs across Pete’s cheekbones and jaw, ducking back in for more. Pete made a bubbling noise when Sonny played dirty and tugged on his lower lip with his teeth. In retaliation, he slipped flat palms under Sonny’s shirt and slid them up his back, adding a light hint of fingernail when he dragged them back down.

“Shit,” Sonny whispered, and his voice caught when Pete did it again. After a few repeats of the motion, Pete changed tactics and moved to Sonny’s stomach, feeling it quiver and suck in and out at the nearly tickling pressure. He gave a light pinch to the skin over the waistband of the basketball shorts, then ran up to Sonny’s chest, dragging most of the shirt with him. When Sonny leaned back from kissing to pull his tank up and off, Pete had to speak up.

“Sonny. What are we doin’? I’m down for wherever this goes, but I gotta check in with you, man. What’s your end goal here?” Pete was far from complaining, but a lapful of shirtless Sonny was definitely hinting towards new territory, and he was absolutely going to verify before they had any sort of misunderstanding.

“I don’t have any specifics in mind, but I know the gist of what I’m going for.”

Pete swallowed with some difficulty. “Okay, communication’s real important, and if we can’t say it, we can’t do it. That’s a new rule.”

“Right. So, my plan that has no concrete details on how to achieve it, definitely involves an end goal of mutual orgasms.”

“Alright. You’re the man with the plan. Now lay back, and I’ll find a way to execute it.”

Sonny gave an odd little snort laugh that paired well with his wide eyes as he climbed out of Pete’s lap to lay on his back on the bed. Pete tugged Sonny’s shirt out from under him and threw it off onto the floor, slowly rising up to crouch over him.

“Hey, Sonny, if at any time you wanna stop or try something else out—“

“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry. And same for you, too.”

Pete nodded and leaned down to kiss him. Sonny’s arms came up and started reeling Pete’s shirt and jacket up his back until it was all bunched at his neck. “I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something,” Pete groused, sitting up to pull both articles off.

“Get back down here.”

Pete was a sucker for Sonny’s grabby hands. “Funny how I was the one asking you to come up to me just a few minutes ago.”

“If you’re still making snarky comments, I’m clearly not kissing you thoroughly enough.”

As Sonny hauled him back down, Pete let his hands roam around his chest, enjoying how it started moving up and down faster with Sonny’s increased heart rate and breath intake. It wasn’t until Pete physically tilted Sonny’s head so he could move in on his neck that the first warbling groan was released.

“Shit,” Sonny laughed. “Was that me?”

Pete tried not to look too proud and failed miserably. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Fuck. Back to work. That was good.” He playfully knocked at Pete’s head until he ducked back down and started kissing at his neck and collarbones again. “Yeah. Okay. I see why people do this.”

Pete let his hand slide down to Sonny’s waistband. “You good, man?”

“Perfectly fine, Pete.”

Sitting up again, Pete hooked his hands in Sonny’s shorts and dragged them down to his knees. 

“Do you always wear bright fucking red briefs?”

“Boxers ruin the line of the dress pants.”

“I meant more, what’s with the color, but that’s even weirder.”

“Usnavi said—”

Pete shuddered. “Please don’t talk about Usnavi when I’m about to give you a handjob.”

Immediately, Sonny fell silent, miming a zipping of the lips in front of his mouth.

Pete took stock of the situation again, and upon remembering that his boyfriend was laying right there in nothing but his underwear, he leaped into action. In an effort to keep Sonny at ease, he matched the removal with his own pants, shuffling a bit to get them down. If it had been obvious that Sonny was hard before, it was much more so now. Pete used his thumb to crack the knuckles on his hand, then he cupped him gently. He wasn’t expected the gasp and back arch, and he’d bet money Sonny didn’t either.

“Jesus fuck,” Sonny croaked. A few squeezes hyped him up further, to the point where Pete almost forgot himself, completely entertained by Sonny’s reactions. Finally he took pity on him and slid his hand inside his briefs, enjoying the squack Sonny released in reply. “Okay, that’s cool— ah— fuck, that’s embarrassing. Keep going.”

Pete stopped instead, cocking an eyebrow and giving him a rather disbelieving look. “You sure you’re okay there?”

“Pete, I swear to god, I’m fine. Please don’t stop—”

He restarted for the most part, sliding as best as he could with just Sonny’s precome to ease the way. “Hey, you got any lube?”

Sonny’s eyes flew open. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

They sat there, making direct eye contact, Pete’s hand no longer moving again. Sonny was blinking rapidly and made no move to acquire said lube.

Pete cleared his throat. “So… you gonna grab it or what? I can get it if you tell me where it is?”

A weak chuckle escaped Sonny, and he leaned over the side of his bed to open one of his drawers, trying to keep his dick from leaking on his sheets. It required a disturbing amount of contortion, and Pete reached out to catch hold of his hips to anchor him in case of an emergency. “Is there a reason you gotta do it like this and not just get off the bed like a normal person?”

“Someone was kinda turning my brain into mush, so I didn’t really think this through,” Sonny grunted, with the strained voice of someone who was experiencing a rush of blood to his head. He finally surfaced with a brand-new bottle of lube, the plastic still around the cap. After two tries, the first of which resulting in a sharp corner trying to stab under his nail, he dropped the seal to the ground and passed Pete the bottle. “How are we doin’ this?”

“Lay back down? Unless you’d rather sit?”

“Laying’s good.” Sonny flopped back down, and with a burst of confidence, pulled off his obnoxious red briefs and pushed them off the bed. Complete nudity seemed to be the name of the game, so Pete stripped down the rest of the way as well. Sonny attempted to avert his eyes, until he realized the actual purpose of being naked was not to hide away, at which point he decided to openly ogle his boyfriend. Pete was trying not to preen, a move that was made slightly easier by the fact that he was also openly checking out Sonny. He took a moment to roam palms across Sonny’s chest and stomach, sliding them down his thighs until Pete reached his knees and traveled back up again. Only when Sonny finally let out a thin groan did he decide to continue. Pete grabbed the lube bottle from where it had slid half under his leg, popped the cap, and poured a sizable dollop into his palm. After recapping it and setting it aside again, Pete rubbed his hands together and began to slick Sonny and himself simultaneously.

“You wanna go for the traditional handjob, or can I jerk us off together?”

Sonny was lightly thrusting his hips up into Pete’s lubed hand. “The latter sounds fucking terrific.”

With a nod, Pete lifted Sonny up into a seated position in his lap, before scooting backwards against the wall so he could lean back himself. His palm was leaving slippery lube trails on Sonny’s shoulder blades, where he was supporting him, but neither party was complaining. Pete was fighting to keep his breathing under control, and Sonny was whispering “fuck” and “shit” every few seconds. Finally, Pete pulled their hips together and wrapped a hand around both of them.

“Pete, you— ah— I made a good choice. Shit.” Sonny was leaning back so that he could clearly watch where Pete’s hand encircled them, moving in a smooth but speedy rhythm. “This is a great view, holy fuck.” Pete sped up, squeezing a little tighter and finishing each upstroke with the deadly combination of a wrist twist and a thumb swiping over their heads. It was finally too much, and Sonny leaned forward again to kiss him then smash his face into Pete’s neck, panting hard enough that moisture was actually condensing on the skin. “Fuck, Pete. Fuck, Pete.” 

They switched head placement, and Pete sealed lips around Sonny’s collarbone region, sucking with abandon as he jerked his hips and came, suction breaking only when he came back to earth.

Sonny breathed a mixture of “oh shit” and Pete’s name, before following suit. It was excellent timing considering the fact that Pete was seconds away from oversensitivity. He kept stroking Sonny until hands unwrapped from his back and pushed him away. The mess had transferred to Pete’s stomach some, but the majority was splattered against Sonny’s.

A tissue took care of the bulk of the cleanup, but a damp washrag that Pete brought in from the bathroom finished the job. Sonny pulled on a pair of clean black boxers and stumbled upon another spray painted t-shirt, one he didn’t wear often or at all, as proven by the uncut short sleeves. Pete grabbed his original outfit from the floor and was soon dressed as well.

On slightly wobbly legs, Sonny took them into the main room to sit on the couch for watching Netflix. It was as he turned to go out his bedroom door that Pete saw it. On Sonny’s right hand side, close to the collarbone but definitely visible was a very large, dark hickey.

“Oh my god, Sonny. I didn’t mean to, but I definitely left a huge ass mark,” Pete said, tapping his own throat in an approximation of its general location.

Sonny jogged to the bathroom mirror to look at the damage, an action that revealed the unhappy truth, that it was too obvious and too high to cover with just a normal shirt, let alone a baggy tank top.

“Well, fuck,” Sonny said, matter-a-fact. “Usnavi’s gonna lose his shit.”

“Customers are gonna see that for sure. I’m so sorry. I got carried away.”

Sonny shrugged, turning back and forth in the mirror to really examine it. He smiled slightly and pressed two fingers to the mark. Pete walked up behind him and rested his chin on Sonny’s head, smiling at them in their reflection.

“It’s not that bad, actually,” whispered Sonny. 

Pete gave him an incredulous look. “It’s definitely pretty bad.”

“Yeah, but, I don’t think I mind.”

With great difficulty, Pete kept himself from being overly pleased. He leaned in to kiss Sonny innocently and was met halfway.

“Hey, Sonny. Brush your teeth tonight.”

He received a joking slap for that one, but as they got ready for bed, Sonny did floss and brush alongside Pete. They cranked up the air conditioning to make up for the skin on skin contact they were about to engage in, before climbing into bed. It was a bit of a squeeze, but by sliding his head into the space between Pete’s right arm and chest, Sonny managed to get comfortable. Legs were intertwined, and they dropped off rather quickly, even though the oppressive heat was bearing down in the small room.

They must have been tired, because they simultaneously woke at noon, when the sounds of Usnavi and Vanessa talking in the main room grew too loud to ignore. Vanessa was laughing, loud and bright, at a story Usnavi was telling, about his first attempts to brew a proper coffee. It was a tale that required physical acting to properly demonstrate the dance Usnavi had done after spilling piping hot liquid on his hands, with no other apparent way to alleviate the pain. 

To give themselves a proper entrance, Sonny left his bedroom mocking Usnavi’s shouts in a high voice, having already heard the story himself many times. 

Usnavi stopped mid-dance, and Vanessa’s impeccable eyebrows shot up into her hairline at the sight of him. “You got a little something there,” Vanessa crooned, tilting her own head back to expose her neck. Usnavi looked decidedly ill. “You gave him the condoms and lube, right?”

“Yeah,” croaked Usnavi. “I did.”

Sonny had the appearance of someone who had just been completely betrayed. “Those were her idea?”

Usnavi flailed arms defensively around himself. “Clearly it was a good idea! I mean, you used them, right?”

“Not the condoms!”

Blood drained from Usnavi’s face, and he stumbled to the couch to lean on Vanessa.

Sonny sputtered and backpedaled frantically. “We didn’t need to!”

“You might trust Pete, but you don’t know his previous partners!”

Vanessa’s looked thoughtful. “Speaking of which, where is he anyway?”

Pete slid sheepishly out of the hallway, into the room. “I swear I’ve been tested since the last time I was with someone else.”

“This is his personal health, ‘Navi. He shouldn’t have to be sharing it with us in the first place,” Sonny protested, but Pete shushed him, insisting it was fine. 

“I got tested about four months back. All clear.”

“Four months…” Usnavi looked at Pete. Vanessa looked at Pete. Sonny looked at Pete.

Pete cleared his throat. “Um, Usnavi, when Sonny told you we’d been together for a month, we didn’t really mention what happened at Christmas.”

“Something happened at Christmas?” Vanessa asked, leaning forward, chin on hands, to listen with interest.

“Nothing big!” Sonny insisted. “We just kissed by the kitchen window while you guys were all talking in the other room.”

“I got tested a little after that. When Sonny had headed back to school.”

Usnavi was still staring at Pete, but a small smile was settling on his face. “You, Graffiti Pete, kissed my cousin one time and haven’t been when anyone else since?”

The flush was working its way up Pete’s neck, even lightly coloring the base of his scalp. He nodded the affirmative, an uncomfortable arm sliding up to rub the top of his head.

Vanessa was grinning too, hugging Usnavi tightly. “And here you were, so concerned that he didn’t care about Sonny. I told you that you worry too much.”

“You really like him!” Usnavi laughed, pointing at Pete. “You really really do! You care about him!” Then he was up like a shot, grabbing Pete in a patented De la Vega style hug, thanking him profusely and even including an apology in the mix. He threw out an arm and roped Sonny in too. “I’m happy for both of you.”

Sonny was not happy; he was confused and also slightly offended on Pete’s behalf. “You thought he was just using me? That he didn’t really care about me?”

“I don’t know him, Sonny. Not that well. All I do know is that he’s a vandal and has had multiple girlfriends, and you’re my little cousin who’s never dated in his life, and suddenly you’re together.”

Vanessa took in Sonny’s bewildered expression and clarified, “Sonny, it has nothing to do with sexuality and the fact you’re both guys. Relax. He’d be doing this no matter who you were dating. He’s too protective. We’ve talked about this.”

Usnavi released Pete and Sonny from his grasp sheepishly, returning to the couch to sit by Vanessa. Sonny wondered if he was also remembering the talk the two of them had had, a few nights after The Blackout, when Usnavi had apologized wildly for planning to abandon him in New York alone, and for leaving him to protect the bodega without even calling to check up on him. It was still a sore spot, probably always would be, that the one time Usnavi hadn’t been his usual overbearing, overprotective force was nearly the biggest mistake of his life.

Even so, Sonny had forgiven him, and they’d moved on pretty well. It had healed with the other wounds of that weekend, but the memories could still hurt.

To break himself from the downward spiral of old thoughts, Sonny mentioned how surprised they’d been to see Vanessa and Usnavi at the restaurant the day before. Pete was softly chuckling at the whole incident as he dragged Sonny to the other end of the couch to sit. Four people was a few too many to squeeze on, so Sonny plopped himself in Pete’s lap and grinned when arms wound around his waist.

“Oh my god,” Vanessa said, in response to Sonny’s comment. “We were just as shocked, believe me. That’s a damn fancy restaurant, and you guys both looked so nice!”

“My cousin, all dressed up and out on a date? I’m constantly impressed by how much college and just plain growing up has changed you,” Usnavi continued.

“How was your date, ‘cuz?” Sonny asked. “Vanessa?”

They told the other pair about their dinner and their evening walk through the barrio until Usnavi admitted that the bodega had been open sporadically for the last week, so it was probably best to get down there and raise the grate for the evening. “We already slept in and missed our morning usuals,” he sighed.

“Oh yeah, that’s what we were doing. Sleeping in. Is that what we’re calling it now?” joked Vanessa, and Pete and Sonny pretended to cover their ears in disgust. “Oh! Look who’s talking, Mr. Hickey.”

“Mr. Romantic, Mr. Hickey… what’s with you two, and your dumb nicknames for me?”

“Yeah,” agreed Pete. “I’ve yet to see any romance outta this nerd.”

Vanessa got a kick out of that, and she was still snickering as the group of four headed to the bodega to open. Sonny was defending himself by trying to list his various romantic gestures, while Usnavi peeled off a letter that had been taped to the front door. A small piece of the tape stayed on the glass, and he twirled a finger at it, telling Sonny to get it off for him. Unamused, Sonny ignored him and followed Vanessa inside, though Pete lingered to scrape and pull it off with a paint-stained fingernail.

The note was from Benny, good-naturedly complaining about the bodega being closed unannounced and then asking them to text him when they did open, because Nina wanted to stop by.

Usnavi sent off a snarky text reminding Benny that he could had just texted in the first place, instead of leaving a note, to which he received a middle finger emoji and request to keep Sonny around for Nina to talk to.

It seemed that Sonny could put off the inevitable for no longer, and the Nina conversation was imminently approaching. 

“Hey,” whispered Pete while Vanessa and Usnavi were distracted putting change in the register. “You want me to leave, or stick around?”

“You can… stay. Stay. If you want to.”

Pete smirked and ran a thumb across Sonny’s collarbone. “It’s cool. I’ll stay.”

He did, waiting around as Vanessa kissed Usnavi goodbye and headed out. 

Soon Benny and Nina walked up to the store front, and he opened the door to let her through.

“Benny!” called Usnavi, arms wide to gesture at his friend.

“Hey, man,” returned Benny, taking it as an invitation for a hug. “Can we head to the back for a minute?”

Usnavi wrinkled his nose. “It’s an oven in there. Let’s just step outside for a bit.”

Benny nodded, exchanging a look with Nina, glancing from her to Pete, back and forth.

She mouthed, “It’s fine,” back to him, and Usnavi led his friend out the front door to chat in the shade of the awning. Nina reclined against the counter, smiling to try and put a nervous Sonny at ease. “Benny told me something rather interesting yesterday. I didn’t want to push, but I also wanted to talk to you and apologize.”

Dating Pete or not, Sonny was pretty sure he’d always try to show off for Nina, and Pete was pretty sure he’d always find it funny. As Sonny tried to look completely casual, leaning against the magazine rack and reaching behind himself to pull on his brim and straighten his hat, Pete made kissy faces from behind Nina’s back. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” Sonny insisted, glaring at his boyfriend. “But what’s up?”

Nina threw a suspicious glance behind her at a Pete who suddenly seemed extremely involved in his own hands. “Well, I wanted to say I was sorry for my assumptions. For automatically believing you were straight, negating the fact that I was trying to give proper recognition to LGBT kids in the first place—” She cut off and stared at Sonny, looking at him with something akin to surprise. “I guess you’re really not a kid anymore are you?”

“I don’t have a bedtime anymore, that’s for sure,” he said lightly, a throwback to her old jab when he’d try to speak with her in the evenings.

“Oh Sonny, when did you go and grow up on me?” And then Sonny’s fifteen year old self shouted with glee as Nina crossed the bodega and threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. Pete threw two thumbs up and a light-hearted grin in his direction for support. When Nina finally pulled back, she turned to address Pete for the first time. “And you, Graffiti Pete. Thank you.”

He looked nervous at being the new center of attention. “For what? Being good to Sonny?”

She nodded.

Pete scoffed and threw his arms out before letting his hands fall back to slap his thighs. “Why does everyone keep thanking me for that? It’s common sense. A basic decency. Sonny deserves to be treated like the… like the… I mean, he’s important. Of course I’m going to be good to him. Why is everyone thanking me for doing the bare minimum?”

“Because you’re like this! You’re everything we could have ever dreamed of for Sonny.”

“What, besides the fact that everyone knows me for vandalism? And everyone’s aware that I’m an undereducated dropout with no future? No one would pick me to date Sonny.”

“Pete. If my dad was able to pick who I would date, he’d have never chosen Benny. But look where we are now. In the end, it doesn’t matter what anyone else wants for you, as long as you’re happy and content. Sonny, are you happy with Pete?”

“Hell yes.”

She gave Pete a pointed look. “See?”

He couldn’t help but smile back. “I guess so.”

Benny opened the door a bit and stuck his head inside. “Hey Nina, you almost done? Movie starts in fifteen.”

“I’m ready. Be right out.” She waited until he stepped back out again. “One last bit of advice: Enjoy the time you have together. Long distance is a pain and a half.”

She was right. as usual. Summer ended far too quickly, and Sonny’s second year was beginning. Patrick wanted to room with new people, mostly for the experience, but Lee was moving on campus to try out living away from home, so they filled out forms for a room with Sonny instead. Packing to leave seemed easier this year. He had a pretty good idea of what he needed this time around. Actually leaving was much harder.

Usnavi was the usual inconsolable wreck, but Pete was another story. They discussed train fare and how easy it would be to visit, and it felt like it might actually be okay.

The evening before they left, Usnavi gave Pete permission to stay the night, and he agreed instantly.

Hyperaware of the fact that Usnavi was right next door, Sonny was kissing the life out of Pete like he was leaving the planet, rather than traveling a little over two hours away. The slightly wet sounds were hard to hide, but it was nothing like the noises Sonny had to muffle when Pete slid his pants down and wrapped a hand around him. Catching his little gasps and moans under his hand proved ineffective when, after getting the all clear sign, Pete swallowed Sonny down. Chances were good that Usnavi was now fully aware of what they were up to, but as Pete whispered later, after they’d both finished up, he’d probably known what they intended to do anyway.

Sonny just shook his head, embarrassed and turned his pillow over so he didn’t have to lay in the wet spot where he’d been biting the fabric. 

The morning was bittersweet and emotionally draining, but nothing could stop time from progressing until it reached the moment they had to leave. In a parallel to the year before, Benny helped pack Sonny’s belongings into their rental car, Usnavi sat up front and swiped at tears, and Sonny propped his sweatshirt into a pleasant pillow so he could sleep on the way.

Lottery winnings or not, a large amount of Sonny’s schooling was being paid for by financial aid, and this year he’d been set up in Hewitt 9 housing. He helped lug his three boxes to the check-in station, where he batted Usnavi away as he propped the one he was carrying against a hip to sign his paperwork. Benny looked a little uncomfortable in the bustling crowd of students and parents, so Sonny was careful to finish quickly. The lady behind the table checked his New York ID card and gave him his room and building keys along with pamphlets detailing legal stipulations. Stuffing them in his mouth, lips pulled over teeth, Sonny mumbled his thanks and jerked his head to Benny and Usnavi in nonverbal direction. 

The trio made it to Sonny’s room, and as he swung the door open, he was not too surprised to see the Lee had already made themself at home and had claimed the bottom bunk. He was more shocked at the sight of Patrick lounging next to them on the bed.

“Patrick! Long time no see, man!” Sonny called, knocking hands in a time-perfected fistbump with his ex-roommate. “You two still together then?”

Lee snorted inelegantly. “Yep. Long distance sucks ass by the way. Especially with a timezone difference.”

“Also,” Patrick said, scrolling on his phone, “Pete doesn’t count as long distance.”

Mention of Pete reminded Sonny of Usnavi and Benny’s presence, and he snapped back to the door. “Uh, you can just, set those boxes here,” he told Benny, who moved inside to drop the two he was holding on the floor. Sonny added his on top, trying to ignore the fact that the stack was almost as tall as he was.

“Hey there, Usnavi,” said Patrick, getting off the bed and extending a hand. Typical Usnavi, he pulled him into a hug instead. “Nice to see you again,” Patrick croaked mid-hug.

“And you are?” Lee asked, also reaching a hand out to shake. Benny turned and caught it in a firm grip.

“I’m Benny. Friend of Usnavi’s. I’ve known Sonny basically his whole life.”

“Oh! So this is Benny. We’ve heard a lot about you.” Lee nodded appreciatively and let Patrick greet Benny as well.

With that, conversation seemed exhausted, and Sonny knew Benny was anxious to get home to see Nina off that evening, so he said his goodbyes to Usnavi and let them go. 

Once the door closed, Patrick whooped and loudly declared, “The night is young, my friends!” Plans were made to throw a three person move-in day party, though Patrick had initially argued to include his roommate as well.

Lee shook their head. “Nah man, your roommate’s a first year.”

“Wait, really?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah.” The one-sided shrug made an appearance, and Sonny realized how much he’d missed his friends. “I’m in Butterfields this year.”

“Weird. This is only our second, but I feel so much older than them,” Lee laughed.

“It’s, like, kinda strange, yeah. He’s so young. I swear there’s gotta be more than a year’s difference.”

“He hasn’t suffered through any college level finals yet. That’s why he’s so innocent still,” Sonny piped up.

Still snickering, the trio nominated Lee to find alcohol for their evening get-together, while Sonny volunteered to grab some snacks. Patrick was in charge of sodas and water, as well as finding a deck of cards for an inebriated Egyptian Rat War tournament as a throwback to the year before. They faked a sports team huddle and split up.

Jogging down to the center of campus, Sonny had been fully intending to stop by the on-campus store and grab some chips and trail mix, but he happened into the center of the club showcase instead. He made a last moment decision to swing by the ENGAGE table. There was a large banner on it, declaring their purpose as civic engagement, but someone had added the words ‘social activism’ as clarification. 

The current leader, Janis, saw Sonny from a far and called him over. She addressed her crowd of aspiring first-years as she pointed him out. “This is Sonny De la Vega! He joined last year, when he first got here to Wesleyan too, and now I think he’s angling to run for VP when he’s in his third-year.” She wasn’t wrong. Sonny really wanted to make it to president by his fourth year, and the previous leader had told him to aim for vice-president if he really wanted a shot at it. “Got any words of wisdom for them?” Janis asked, and Sonny tugged his hat on tighter and leaped up onto the box she was standing on. She passed him the mic she had been using, and Sonny took a brief second to collect his thoughts. 

Telling the incoming first-years about ENGAGE’s mission statement and longterm goals was a throwback to his impromptu rant in the barrio about his plans to improve quality of life in Washington Heights. The parallel was so enormous, he could swear he could see Vanessa looking at him with an adoring expression, prepped to pinch his cheeks and call him cute.

Sonny faked a mic drop, then hopped down and passed it back to Janis, parents and new students applauding him. Janis asked him to stick around to present for the next groups, but Sonny admitted he had things to do, promising to catch her at the first meeting of the year later that week. She waved him off and turned back to her audience, other ENGAGE members stepping forward to distribute free magnets and pins.

Sonny made it to the store with minimal additional delays, only pausing to chat and greet old classmates from the year before. The lines were atrocious, so he had to wait forever to buy a bag of sour cream and onion Lay’s and a plastic container of Chex Mix. By the time he got back to his room, Patrick was sitting outside the door, water bottles and Coke by his side. Sonny let them both in and then started in on unpacking, with the goal of being done before Lee returned. 

He almost made it too, only having his toiletries scattered on the floor when the door clicked open. Sonny gathered up his things and dumped them into an empty box, shoving the whole stack under the bunkbed, behind the set of drawers, to be dealt with later. Lee had a fake evil grin on their face, softly cackling as they set down their brown paper grocery bag and pulled out two bottles of alcohol.

“I call the first New Amsterdam,” Patrick called, already pulling three shot glasses out as well.

“I got peach for you. Shit’s still gross though.”

They ended up fairly buzzed, attempting to play cards and cracking up when their slaps lost coordination or occurred at obviously incorrect times. Sonny ran out of cards and was content to watch Patrick and Lee battle it out. He rolled onto his back and was busying himself with balancing an empty shot glass on his forehead, when his phone lit up. He flailed a hand to grab it without disturbing the glass and held it above his face to check his notifications. It was a text from Pete, asking if he was settled in and having fun, complete with a winking face. Sonny was embarking on the difficult task of coherently replying, when Lee lost their last cards to a triumphant Patrick. To celebrate, they took the last drops of the peach vodka and poured a shot directly on Sonny’s forehead. He paused halfway through his text to avoid spilling the now full glass. Patrick scooped it off him and knocked it back.

“Hell yes,” slurred Sonny, feeling oddly accomplished at being a makeshift bar table. He sent a text bragging to Pete, that was met with laughter from Lee, snooping and staring at his phone.

“You two are cute,” Lee smiled.

“You haven’t even seen us together!”

“Yeah, well. I should. We both should. Double date that bullshit.”

Sonny sat up, probably too quickly if the spinning in his head was an indication. He laid back down. “Double date?”

“Yo,” Patrick added, joining in, “you live like, two hours away. Maybe three or four if you take public transport. I don’t know. Get your boy out here.”

“That’s… not a bad idea.” Sonny twirled his thumbs, trying to think of how to phrase it.

“Call him,” suggested Lee. That seemed even harder, but Sonny felt like talking to Pete anyway, so he thumbed through his contacts and waited for his phone to start ringing. As he tried to get the phone to his ear, he almost dropped in on his face, so he was consequently laughing when Pete picked up.

“Yo, Sonny, what’s up?”

“Pete! I was talking with Lee and Patrick…” They both called their greetings into the phone, and Pete said hello back. “Anyway, I was talking to them about dating with them. That came out wrong. With double dating with them. You coming out here to double date.”

“There we go,” Pete said, slightly mockingly. “You’ve sure got a way with words, Sonny.”

Patrick seemed to think this was the funniest thing ever, because he tipped headfirst into Sonny’s lap, snickering.

“So, do you think you could?” Sonny asked.

Pete paused before answering. “Assuming I understand you, and you’re askin’ me to come visit you and go on a double date with your roommates, then, yeah. Sure thing. I’d love to come out there.”

Sonny whooped and highfived the other two. “Thanks, Pete. Holy shit. You’re the best.”

“Oh my god. Drink some water, Sonny. You’re slurring.”

“I’m not even that tipsy. I just can’t talk right now, cause I’m smiling too much.”

“That’s gay,” Patrick whispered, and Sonny bopped him on the head.

“Loser. Okay, I gotta go. It’s getting dark as fuck out here, and I’m tryin’ to finish this piece up,” Pete said, voice crackly over the poor residence hall signal.

“Sure thing. Night, Pete.”

“Night, Son… ny… Fuck. I can’t abbreviate your name.”

“Ew. Don’t call me Son, please.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty weird. I guess I’ll have to make the effort and say both syllables.”

“I guess you will, Petey.”

“Call me that again, and you’ll be third-wheeling, not double-dating.”

Lee had their flushed face squeezed between their hands, grinning at Sonny and eyebrows tilting lovingly.

“I think we can agree nicknames are a bust. Text you tomorrow, Pete.”

“Gotcha gotcha. Night for real!”

“Night.” Sonny hung up, his smile still lingering.

“The fuck did I tell you?” Lee asked. “You two are so cute. Double-date asap.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sonny eloquently. “I can’t believe I miss him already.”

“You’ve got such a romantic heart, but you’re also gay as fuck. I mean, you’re bi, but you’re gay, you feel?”

Sonny snorted his agreement, and Patrick let out a small groan to show his approval tiredly from his resting place in Sonny’s lap.

“Yo, Patrick,” Lee murmured. “Let’s get you to bed. Drink some water before you tuck in.”

He dragged himself up with some difficulty but took the proffered bottle and actually drained it. “Goodnight all,” Patrick slurred, then slid onto the bottom bunk. Lee dragged the sheets over him, then turned back to help Sonny start cleaning up. They loaded the first empty bottle of vodka back into the paper bag, and Sonny killed the last shot in the second one. Lee snuck out to dispose of the evidence in the Hewitt recycling bins.

He came back to find Sonny staring up at the top bunk dizzily. “You’re such a tiny lightweight,” teased Lee, helping him clamber up the ladder without falling to his death.

“That last shot’s hittin’ me,” mumbled Sonny, already making himself comfortable in his clean sheets.

“Next time, I’ll get it,” Lee said, handing him a water, then crossing the small room to flip the lights out. “Goodnight. Here’s to another year!”

“Shut up,” grumbled Patrick, and Sonny and Lee started to laugh.

Sonny woke up to teasing texts from Pete, making fun of his drunk voice and how stereotypically gay it sounded. Sonny faked offense, but he couldn’t maintain the illusion when Pete was also repeating that he accepted the double date offer. A very hungover Patrick set up a group chat, and they decided to plan the date for earlier rather than later, in hopes of avoiding midterms and finals.

Pete texted Sonny pictures of a mural he’d been commissioned to paint in Queens, with the explanation that he now had transportation money to come visit. Lee was almost going insane with how hyper Sonny was in the week leading up to Pete’s arrival, but finally the day came, and it was just a waiting game for the shuttle to pull up. 

Patrick was playing music on his phone quietly as the three sat on the curbside, chatting, when the hum of an engine signaled an incoming vehicle. The shuttle slid up to the curb and the door opened to let Pete step out. He was in his usual paint-smeared clothing, and Sonny’s chest felt constricted. He pulled Pete into a one-armed fist bump-turned-hug and tried to hide the ridiculous grin on his face.

“So, this is Connecticut?”

“I’ve missed you.”

Patrick and Lee snorted off to the side, and Sonny flipped them both off.

Pete rolled his eyes. “It’s been a month, but yeah. Missed you too.”

Sonny punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up. Okay, so, Pete, this is Lee, and this is Patrick.”

“It’s great to finally meet you.” Lee stepped forward to knock palms and fists with him. “Sonny babbles about you nonstop, so it’s nice to have a face for the name.”

“A damn good face, too,” interjected Patrick. “You’re cute. Sonny’s got good taste.”

“This is a double date, not a chance for you to steal my boyfriend,” Sonny joked, but his voice cracked at the end when Pete took his hand. They fit so comfortably together, calluses scraping. They’d not quite reached the level of openly holding hands back in the Heights, but here it was safe. Sonny bumped their shoulders together, and it felt good to just be casually touching in public.

“Alright then. We ready to go? I’ve been waiting to try this burger and ice cream float joint out, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold out.” Lee took Patrick’s hand as well, starting to lead their group in the direction of food.

“Let’s do this,” Sonny agreed as they began walking.

The little restaurant was decorated like it was still the 1940’s, but the air smelled delicious, and everyone’s mouth was watering in seconds. They were seated at a booth, and Lee was getting a kick out of what a movie cliche they were being.

“Nah,” Pete insisted. “You gotta wait ’til Sonny and I share a root beer float.”

“Oh my god.” Patrick leaned forward eagerly. “You gotta do it. You each get your own straw, and like, drink at the same time.”

Pete did order a root beer float, and they did get separate straws. Lee snapped pictures of the two of them, both of their initial sips as they tried to pose for the camera, and then a few seconds later when it became a competition to drink the most first. Sonny struggled to eat his burger as he kept burping, to much ridicule. The innards of Patrick’s cheeseburger kept falling out onto his plate, and Lee would keep grabbing and eating them before they could be stopped.

“You ass!” Patrick cried as his last pickle met the same fate as the previous two. 

Lee licked their lips and snarked back, “Wanna come taste it?”

It was an aggressive kiss, but Patrick emerged with a victorious grin and a small piece of pickle to eat, so it seemed to be all in good fun. 

Pete tried to drink the rest of the root beer by tipping the glass directly into his mouth, but the scoop of ice cream slid down and collided with his nose. He pulled back, white all over his face. Lee handed him a napkin, but Pete complained that it was still sticky and excused himself to the bathroom to wipe off.

Once he was gone, Lee and Patrick descended upon Sonny.

“You’re so great together. I like him. He’s funny.” Lee snatched a piece of cheese from Patrick’s plate.

“He’s cute. I’m serious. He’s got that bad boy vibe going for him. And, like, he’s so head over heels for you. You two are like, seriously giving me cavities.” Patrick stole a fry directly from Lee’s hand right before it reached their mouth. “Okay, serious negotiations. My roomie knows to clear out this afternoon, so he’s gonna be hanging with a friend. Which means my room is free.”

Lee smirked. “Which means I’ll be over there all afternoon. Which means our room will be free.”

It was hard to smile with so much food in his mouth, but Sonny managed it. “Is this a hint of some sort?”

“You could say that.”

“Got it. Thanks, Lee. And thanks, Patrick. We’ll probably make good use of the room.”

“Just talking of course,” Lee nodded sagely.

“Yeah,” Sonny said, face stoic. “Chatting and the like.”

They lost it when Pete came back. “What’d I miss?” he asked over their giggling.

“Nothing important,” Sonny bit out.

“Okay… If you say so. How could I doubt that innocent face?” Pete rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

They finished eating, groaning and holding their stomachs, and the waiter brought their receipts over. Pete grabbed theirs before Sonny could. “You paid last time,” he reminded him, pulling crumpled bills from a sweatpants pocket to stuff in the little black cardholder. Lee and Patrick finished their game of rock, paper, scissors, and it was determined to be Patrick’s turn to pay.

“Who’s ready for the next activity?” Patrick asked, hands on Lee’s hips as he gave him a quick peck outside the restaurant.

“It was awesome meeting you, Pete, but there’s only room for two.” Lee winked at Sonny. “Enjoy the room. Hope to see you again sometime, Pete!”

Patrick echoed this sentiment, and then on campus they parted ways, leaving Sonny and Pete to head back to Hewitt alone.

“I get the feeling you guys talked about room arrangements earlier,” Pete said, an eyebrow raised suspiciously.

Sonny cleared his throat, caught out. “There’s a possibility of that, yeah.”

“Got any plans?”

“Nope.”

“Cool, because I’ve got one. We don’t have to though.”

Sonny unlocked his door, stepping aside to let Pete through. “Fire away.”

“You got lube, right?”

“Never leave home without it,” Sonny quipped.

“Good. You wanna fuck me?”

Sonny tried to keep his jaw from dropping. He really did. He just wasn’t very successful. “Yeah. Shit. Yeah, I— You sure, man? Pete?”

“Chillax, Sonny. I’m sure. Maybe we can switch sometime, but I think this’ll be a good first foray into the whole experience.”

The idea alone was enough to excite Sonny, and he dug out the half full bottle of lube and detached the first condom from the chain. Pete climbed up onto the top bunk and started peeling off clothes. Sonny turned off the lights but cracked the blinds so that the natural sunlight filled the room instead. He joined a half-naked Pete, thanking whoever thought to bolt the top bunk to the wall so it didn’t squeak or shake.

“Shirt off, Sonny. You gotta catch up.”

He did, and they ended up racing to get naked first. It was somewhat of a challenge, considering they were basically locked together at the mouth, but somehow they both managed. They weren’t really sure who won, but then Pete was lubing his fingers and telling Sonny to watch and learn, and suddenly it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Pete’s fingers slipped inside himself fairly easily, and Sonny took mental notes of the stretching technique like it was a class he had to ace. A soft groan released from deep in Pete’s chest. “Prostate’s right at the front here. Ah— Good shit. You wanna— you wanna find that.” 

Like a bobblehead, Sonny kept nodding, enraptured with both the way Pete’s fingers were slickly moving in and out and the sweat that was condensing on his chest. Sonny palmed himself gently, trying to relieve a bit of pressure, but Pete poked at his thigh. “Please don’t. You don’t wanna go off early and have all this prep time be for nothing. Okay. Let’s do this.” Pete’s strong legs reached out and pulled Sonny in by the waist. “Condom time,” he said, unrolling one onto Sonny’s dick. He then clicked open the lube again and ran a hand across Sonny quickly, the intention purely to slick him up. “You’re gonna wanna go fast in the moment, but please try to keep it slow. For both of our sakes, but mostly mine.”

“Got it,” Sonny breathed, easing a hand around himself to aim. He released a quick breath. “I’ve got this. I’ve got this.” Sonny slowly pressed in until Pete let out a long, deep groan, and he froze. “You good, Pete?”

“Shit, you gotta try this side of things some time Sonny. It’s perfect. Keep going.”

When Sonny bottomed out, he held perfectly still again, trying to ignore the muscle spasms in his arms and legs from the effort. “How you doin’?”

Pete had his eyes closed and his arms behind his head, like he was reclining on a beach rather than currently having sex. He let a whoosh of air out, deflating like a balloon. “All good over here. Your move.”

“My move?”

“Yep.” Pete popped the p dramatically. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Sonny felt like if he moved, he’d never be able to stop, so he continued to hesitate. Pete’s eyes finally opened. “Sonny. Everything okay on your end?” he asked carefully.

“Oh my god, yes. It’s just - a lot.”

“I mean it,” Pete reassured him. “If you aren’t feeling it we can always stop, but otherwise it’s whenever you feel like moving.”

“I don’t - I don’t know what to do here.”

“You thrust your hips? You know what sex looks like? You do that.”

“It’s not gonna hurt you?”

In reply, Pete rolled his hips and squeezed down on Sonny, who made a garbled noise and fell forward onto his forearms, bracketing Pete’s chest. The benefit of this was that he did start moving his hips, albeit in very short, sporadic strokes.

“Sonny, yes or no, do you wanna keep tryin’ this?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.” he croaked.

“Okay. New plan.” Pete wrapped legs around Sonny’s waist like a wrestler and tipped him over to the side, bumping him into the wall. With a little maneuvering, he managed to get Sonny underneath him, so that Pete was sitting in his lap instead. “Comfy?”

“Yeah. Shit, Pete, you better get going or this is gonna be over before we can even get started.”

“Got it. Hold tight, Sonny.” And Pete raised his hips before sinking back down again. He kept a slow but consistent pace, letting gravity do most of the work on the downstroke. “Key— ah— key tip. For if. Shit. If you’re ever on this end of this position.” Pete put a hand behind himself and rested his weight back on it. The second he did, his head dropped backwards, and he yanked a hand up to cover his mouth and hold in a moan. “Lean back,” Pete panted out. “The prostate’s a fucking miracle.”

Sonny was doing just as well, breathing fast like he was running a marathon, even though he wasn’t moving at all. Little aborted gasps kept escaping, and he had to keep gulping air in between them. His fingers and toes kept curling and uncurling, unsure of what else to do.

Pete was swearing almost constantly now, a long string of expletives punctuating his increasingly faster rythym. “Fuck,” he groaned, tensing suddenly on Sonny before freezing. “How close are you?” Pete gritted out between clenched teeth. “Because I am about a stroke away.”

Sonny’s mouth was dry from his panting, so he chose to let his hips answer for him, finally lifting them to thrust twice, hard, into Pete. Pete was caught so off guard that his eyes opened like saucers as he flew forward onto Sonny’s chest and came. The result of his rapid tensing brought Sonny off too, both of their arms tangling as they grabbed at each other, kissing for the first time since Pete had started prepping himself.

Once his breathing slowed down, Sonny was desperate to pull out of Pete, yelping at his oversensitivity and Pete’s occasional unintentional squeezes. Pete tied and tossed the condom as Sonny wet some napkins with a water bottle and wiped himself off. They pulled on clothes and decided a restroom break was in order, careful to open the door without touching the handle with their slippery lubed hands. 

“Mine’s been up my ass, so I don’t think they want me touching anything until I’ve washed them,” Pete said crudely as they walked to the hall bathroom.

Sonny snorted and even turned the faucet on and dispensed the soap for him.

“I’m serious though. If you’re ever feeling adventurous, and Lee and Patrick are out, you should try fingering yourself. You’ve got the lube. Plus it’ll make it easier if you ever want the dick up your ass instead.”

“Jesus fuck, Pete. Anyone could walk by right now!” Sonny wasn’t actually angry, but he was fighting a wicked blush from forming. A hand found his chin and tipped it up, just enough to kiss him.

“Can’t do this back home, that’s for sure.”

“Can you imagine what Usnavi would do to you?”

Pete scoffed. “Are you kidding? He totally knew I blew you that night before you left. He’s not gonna say anything.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, if your legs are up for it, do you wanna go for a walk?”

Sonny shot him a disbelieving look. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I’m fine. Besides, walking helps the soreness.”

“Is it bad?”

“Nah. It’s kinda nice actually. And worth it. Next time you can be on the bottom if you’d like.”

“Technically, wasn’t I this time?”

Pete knocked him upside the head. “I’m just trying to give you options here.”

Sonny snorted and pushed Pete’s face away. “I get it. And sure. I’ll go for it next time. I get how it works now and all that shit. You get to ravage me or whatever.”

Pete adopted a cocky expression and leaned back into Sonny’s space. “Oh man, Sonny, I could wreck you if I had the chance.”

Eyes widening, Sonny nodded his approval. “Yes please.”

“But right now - today - we go for a walk. Maybe we’ll have to double date again sometime.”

“You know, I’m staying here for Thanksgiving break, but I’ll be back for Christmas. What’s a better way to celebrate one year?”

“It’s a deal,” Pete grinned, pulling Sonny out of the bathroom and toward the staircase. “At my place, I assume?”

“Pete, I’m not letting you fuck me one room and a thin wall away from Usnavi.”

They were silently shaking their heads in horror when they reached the ground floor and stepped outside. Foss Hill was right outside, so they started their way across it, jostling one another as they went.

All too soon it was time for Pete to head back to New York, so Sonny waited with him by the shuttle stop, leaning his head against a paint stained shoulder. When the vehicle pulled up, Pete planted an intentionally sloppy, wet kiss on Sonny’s lips then forehead, then hopped on. Sonny waved until it was out of sight, then shot an all clear text to Lee.

When they returned to the room, alone, they took one look at a half-sulking Sonny and knew something had to be done. “Popcorn?”

“Sure. Thanks, Lee.”

Lee dragged a package out of one of their drawers and left for the hall kitchen. It was easy to know when they were on their way back, because the smell of butter drifted in before Lee did.

“He’s seems like a great catch,” they said through a mouthful of popcorn. “You really like him a lot still?”

Sonny actually finished chewing and swallowing before he answered. “I mean, we’ve been best friends as long as I can remember. I think I’ll always like him a lot. It comes with the territory.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Shut up. If you ask the same questions, you’re gonna get the same answers.”

“I pretty much picked you bare last year when I was distracting you from studying for finals. But I don’t know. I like to ask. There’s nothing new though? No new fodder for me?”

Sonny shook his head.

“Cause I mean,” Lee continued. “I couldn’t help but notice the condom in the trash can. And you’ve already told me you don’t use those for blowjobs or handjobs, so…”

“What are you, a detective?” Sonny grabbed the popcorn bag so he could eat some before Lee finished it off. “Is there no privacy around here?”

“You’re in a college residence hall. Privacy is nonexistent. Now stop avoiding the question, and spill the deets.”

“‘Deets?’”

“Details.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Patrick for too long. His weird slang is rubbing off on you.”

Lee sat bolt upright. “Oh my god. I was talking to someone the other day, and I used the word ‘hella.’ I almost texted Patrick to break up right then and there.”

“California’s ridiculous,” laughed Sonny.

“Hey!” A finger jabbed directly into Sonny’s chest. “You almost got me! Back to the matter at hand. Why the condom, Sonny-boy?”

“Okay, okay! Shit, Lee. Yeah. We did exactly what you think we did.”

“And that is?”

“Jesus shit— We fucked! We had sex! The dick went in the butt! What do you want from me?”

“You sore?”

Sonny sputtered indignantly. “This is way too much information. But no. I’m not. He uh. He let me lead.”

Lee clapped their hands joyfully, then paused to lick the butter off their fingers. “Wanna know what Patrick and I were up to?”

“Holy fuck. No, but tell me anyway.”

Lee shrugged with one side, another unfortunate habit they’d acquired from Patrick. “Nothing. He wasn’t in the mood, so we played some Pokemon on his DS instead. Geez, Sonny. Assuming we were messing around? Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Sonny smacked his face into his palms. “Lee, why do you have to be like this?”

“Better get used to it! We still got most of the year to go!”

Even so, the time seemed to be flying by already. Sonny felt like he’d just gotten started with classes, and then it was Christmas break, and Usnavi was at his door, ready to pick him up. Patrick and Lee said goodbye from their huddled mass where they were squeezed together under a blanket.

“Tell Pete we say hi!” called Lee, and Sonny flipped them both off when Patrick added a wolf whistle.

Usnavi snagged Sonny’s beanie off his head and ruffled his hair where the curls were growing out again. “So Pete came to visit I heard?”

“Like, a month and a half ago, but yeah.”

“That’s great. I’m glad. You two seem to be doing pretty good.”

Sonny couldn’t hide his smile. “I’m happy.”

“That’s all I want to hear. Oi, Benny! That’s a red zone! You can’t park here!”

They piled into the car and took off for New York. Soon enough the Heights pulled into view, and Sonny felt that familiar rush of sentimentality as he mentally shifted his definition of home from Wesleyan to the barrio. He also felt rather proud that he was adapting to Benny’s driving, and the abrupt, aggressive lane changes were no longer getting to him.

“I gotta get this car back to the rental,” Benny told the two De la Vegas. “It’s starting to snow already, and the forecast said it’s really gonna come down tonight.”

Usnavi flipped the lock on his door and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Gotcha. If you’re feeling up to it, swing by the bodega on your walk back, and I’ll get you a complimentary hot chocolate. Otherwise, see you in the morning, Benny.”

Sonny slid out of the backseat and headed under the bodega awning, shivering in the temperature change from the heated car to the snow outside. Usnavi skipped up and unlocked the door, and they hurried inside. Sonny was sent to the backroom to find the hot chocolate packets while Usnavi boiled water. Sadly, the backroom, which turned to a boiler in summer, was an icebox in winter. The drop in temperature was palpable, and Sonny almost screamed when he reached up for the cocoa and the ceramic sink touched his stomach where his shirt raised. The plus side was that the rest of the bodega felt toasty when he came back out. Usnavi had a couple space heaters plugged in and running as well.

“I texted Vanessa to see if she’s close enough to swing by. You wanna text Pete, and see if he’s interested?”

The grin that lit up Sonny’s face was contagious, and the pair sat huddled by the warmth of a heater on the counter, texting their respective partners and waiting for the kettle to boil. Benny breezed in after a bit, snow in his hair and scarf. “Forecast said light snowfall this evening. Heavy snowfall overnight. I guess the weather decided to skip the light part.”

Vanessa was the next to come in, bundled up to the point of being unrecognizable. “Someday, I’m flying out to San Francisco, where they don't have to deal with this sky dandruff bullshit,” she complained, muffled by her scarf and heavy winter coat, pulled over her nose.

In direct contrast to Vanessa, was Pete, who waltzed in still wearing a tank top with a sleeveless jacket over it. His winter additions consisted only of a beanie and fingerless gloves. “What’s up? Did I miss the hot chocolate?”

Usnavi looked up from the kettle and mugs. “Nope. Pouring it now.”

Pete walked over behind Sonny’s stool, staying a respectful distance away as if he was hyperaware of the crowd around them. Sonny looked up and made eye contact. It cracked a soppy grin onto Pete’s face, but that was nothing compared to the way he lit up when Sonny shifted backwards and leaned against him. Pete pulled off Sonny’s beanie and dropped it onto the countertop, before resting his chin in his curls and wrapping his arms around Sonny’s shoulders. 

Vanessa looked at them with an expression that was as close to loving as she could get, for people who weren’t Usnavi. Benny looked initially shocked, but then he was handed his hot chocolate, and he shot a crooked smile over the lip of the mug as he took a drink. It felt casual and completely normalized, and it wasn’t lost on Sonny how lucky they were. The older adults talked for a while, until Vanessa had to head off or miss her train. Benny admitted he had Nina waiting for him at home and needed to leave as well. Usnavi thanked him profusely for driving, kissed Vanessa goodbye, and shut the bodega door. He headed into the backroom to swish soapy water through everyone’s mug except Sonny, who still hadn’t finished his yet.

“I can’t drink hot things. They burn my tongue,” he reminded Pete, sipping his lukewarm hot chocolate. It left a strip of foam on his upper lip, and Pete slid around in front of him just to bend down and kiss it off.

It had been so long since Sonny’d seen him, so he pulled an Usnavi and wrapped his boyfriend in a hug, squishing his face against Pete’s chest from his shorter seated position.

“So, Pete,” called the actual Usnavi, still in the frigid backroom. “I stocked up on food, since Sonny came home and all. I assume you’re staying the night?”

Sonny’s head shot up, and he gave his best pleading eyes, even going so far as to add a hint of lower lip.

Pete used a finger to push it back in, pulling Sonny’s head to his chest again. “Thanks, Usnavi. I’d appreciate it.”

He emerged, blowing warm air onto his fingers. “Not a problem. I call dibs on Sonny tomorrow though, but it’s not like we’re doing anything tonight.”

The three walked over to the apartment complex, Sonny’s freezing hand held in Pete’s partially gloved one. Usnavi let them up, and everyone crowded around the heater to thaw their faces and fingers.

“Okay, night you two. Don’t keep him up too late, Pete. I have plans for him tomorrow. Good to have you back, Sonny.” Usnavi wrapped him up in a tight hug, backed up to stare at his face with that stretched mouth and sad eyebrow expression, then left for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Sonny turned back towards Pete to find him looking at him in a way that implied that Sonny would definitely be kept up late.

“Hey.” Sonny took a step forward.

Pete launched toward him, catching his face in his still gloved hands and kissing him full on the mouth. Pressing him backward, Pete navigated Sonny’s back into the wall, and they stood there, making out to the sound of the shower running one room over.

Pete moved from Sonny’s mouth to his throat, nibbling and sucking only enough to raise marks that instantly faded out. His head clunked back against the wall, and Sonny spread his legs enough for Pete to slide a thigh between them. He quickly found that with the right angle of a hip roll, he could rub himself soundly against Pete’s leg.

“Shit, Pete,” he whispered as he repeatedly rocked back and forth.

“Easy does it, Sonny. I’ve got plans.” Pete pulled off his gloves, dropping them to the floor, before he slid his hands up Sonny’s shirt, prompting a brief recoil at the chill. A quick rub across his stomach, and then Pete’s hands were under his ass, cupping it, then lifting. Instinct had Sonny wrapping his legs around Pete’s waist, and then he was being walked to his bedroom. “Plop,” narrated Pete as he dropped him onto the bed with a bounce.

Sonny kicked his shoes off and started on his shirt as Pete sat back to watch appreciatively. “Oh come on. Don’t make me get naked alone here.”

Pete yanked his sweater and shirt off, then returned to hovering over Sonny, before slowly lowering his body flush along Sonny’s, briefly grinding their hips together before lifting again. “So, Sonny, you can say yay or nay, but…” Pete waggled his fingers and eyebrows simultaneously, miming a crude act as he did so. If Sonny wasn’t completely hard before, he was now, verbally giving his approval and setting to work on taking off his pants. Pete knocked his hands aside and did it for him, rising back up to grab the waistband of his underwear before dragging them down, letting Sonny’s dick slap up. Despite the sensation, the visual still made Sonny snort with laughter.

Pete came back and kissed him soundly, then stepped back off the bed to root in the drawer under the bed to find the lube bottle. He came back up with the bottle, breathing out a whoosh of relieved air. “I was afraid it was the same one you had at school, and you didn’t bring it back.”

“Oh nah, man. I got two bottles. Don’t worry.”

Pete popped the lid and poured a sizable dollop onto his fingers. “Okay. Do your best to relax. Lemme know if you want to stop or pause or anything.” He pulled Sonny’s hips to the edge of the bed so his legs would dangle off, and then he knelt on the carpet between his legs. The first touch of lubed fingers, thankfully warm this time, was startling, and Sonny felt his breathing rate increase. An index fingertip applied gentle pressure until it was sliding in. Sonny was panting and desperately telling himself not to shout or tense.

“That feels weird.”

“It’ll get better in a second here. Hold up.” Pete slowly worked the rest of his finger in, and Sonny was trying not to screw his face up oddly. The index finger drew out and was replaced by the middle one. The flat of Pete’s palm was pressed embarrassingly against Sonny’s ass. Pete cleared his throat. “How’s it going?”

“Just feels like I gotta shit.”

Pete pressed his finger forward, and an electric bolt of pleasant feelings shot up Sonny’s spine. “How about now?”

“Oh my god, what the fuck was that?”

“God, Sonny, I keep telling you about the wonders of the prostate, but you just don’t listen.” Pete kept up a slow massage as he spoke. “How is it now?”

“Keep— ah— doing… doing… yeah, that. It’s a lot better.” Pete was smiling contentedly, pleased to just watch Sonny writhe on his finger. “If this is just your finger though, how the hell is— hah— your dick gonna fit?”

Pete rolled his eyes. “You flatter me. But seriously, that’s where stretching comes in. This is the more uncomfortable part.”

Sonny tensed in preparation for two fingers, but what he received instead was Pete breathing against his dick softly enough to tease, before dropping his jaw and going straight for the deepthroat.

“Fuck! Warn a guy, Pete, geez!”

As he sucked Sonny off, Pete gently worked both his index and middle fingers in, before starting to separate them in a stretching motion.

Sonny had to admit he was right; it was uncomfortable, but the blowjob was distracting and relaxing enough that it wasn't unbearable, and it never reached full out pain. The third finger bordered on it, but Sonny took a few deep breathes and managed to ride it out. He slid a hand down to Pete’s head in an attempt to get him to move faster. It actually worked in his favor, and the tempo was nearly doubled. Back arching, Sonny came as Pete curled all three fingers hard inside of him, timed particularly well with a creative use of his tongue. Pete’s eyes widened as he watched him and swallowed rapidly to keep from making a mess. The sight and sound of Sonny, along with the knowledge that he’d caused it, tipped Pete over the edge too. They both took a minute to recalibrate and calm down. 

“So,” Pete said smugly, holding up his hand. “I think you can fit a dick in there.”

Sonny laughed breathlessly, running a hand across his face and into his sweaty curls. “You did promise to wreck me. I’d say that was pretty effective.”

“Oh, no, no, no. That was nothing. Just you wait.”

“Shit, man. If you can do better than that, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. You want a hand there?”

Pete was waving him off, insisting he was fine and could wipe himself off on his own, when the shower switched off. The silence seemed especially heavy, and the mood was instantly broken by the reminder that Usnavi was so close by. Sonny was suspicious about the well timed water shutoff, and he had a distinct feeling that Usnavi had been able to hear some of his moans. He decided to pretend otherwise for his sanity’s sake.

“You need sleep. You’ve had a long day, and Usnavi wants you to hang out tomorrow.” Pete threw Sonny his underwear and a pair of sweats laying on the ground, before pulling his own pants on, going commando for ease.

Sonny nodded, already half way to unconsciousness. “Thanks, Pete.” He reached out his arms and pulled him in. Pete moved them around until Sonny’s head was tucked under his chin. There wasn’t much room for his arm, so he had to tilt their bodies a bit so that Sonny was basically using his chest as a pillow. “It’s ridiculously hard to comfortably arrange two people on a bed,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m fine,” Sonny said into Pete’s skin.

“You aren’t going to wake up with your left arm asleep and numb.”

“Mmhm.”

Pete used a thumb to push curls away from Sonny’s forehead, smiling down at him. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, and there was no reply.

Despite Pete’s careful arrangement, they woke up in a tangle. Sonny was starfished across the bed, limbs flopped with abandon over Pete’s neck and legs. His face was mashed into the pillow, squishing his cheeks in an unflattering way. Pete had an arm bent awkwardly around Sonny’s head at a nearly painful angle. He winced as he uncurled it and pushed away Sonny’s arms, so he could sit up. In an acrobatic show of strength, he leveraged himself up and over Sonny to reach the floor, where he began to pull his clothes back on. Fully dressed, Pete quietly pulled the sheets over his sleeping form and crept out of the room. He headed to the kitchen to grab a granola bar. He was just tearing off the wrapper when the door opened, and Usnavi came in, covered with snow.

“Oh hey,” Pete waved, awkwardly taking a bite.

“Morning. Sonny up?”

“Nah. I was letting him get some more sleep.”

“Thanks. He probably really needs it. I’m not taking him anywhere fancy today or anything. Mostly just plan to lay around and watch movies and eat popcorn. You don’t— you don’t mind if I ask for time with him alone, right?”

Pete shoved the rest of the bar into his mouth whole then shook his head. “Nope. Ah ount— old up…” He chewed rapidly and swallowed. “I don’t mind, yo. You’re his cousin, and honestly, he looks up to you so much. You’re his family. I’d never be mad if you want him alone for some time.”

Usnavi shook out his hat and hung in on the wall hook. “Pete, I… I think I have to apologize to you. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Nah, man. It’s fine. I get it.”

“It’s not. I’ve been unfair and let my earlier perception of you hide the fact that clearly you’re growing up to be a responsible young man.”

Pete wrinkled his nose at that.

“I mean, you keep up with your rent, though I’m really not sure where you get the money. And you make time for Sonny whenever he’s home. You are careful with his emotions, and I’ve yet to see any evidence of you pressuring him into anything, and whenever I mention you, he smiles. Pete, thank you so much. I’m serious.”

Pete brushed crumbs from his face in a weak attempt to avoid looking up, trying to ignore how important Usnavi’s words felt. “Man, you’re welcome. And thank you too. It’s really important to him that you accept him and approve his decisions, and you have no idea how much it hurt him back when we were keeping it all a secret, and you don’t know how scared he was to tell you he likes guys too. But you made sure he knew it was more than alright, and he needed that.”

Usnavi let out a little laugh. “I can’t even believe this. A few years ago, I never would have thought that you and I would be standing in my living room, having a civil discussion. Not even just civil, but me giving you my blessing to date Sonny. If you had told me that in the past, I’d probably have an aneurism.”

“Glad to know I was that distasteful to you before,” Pete joked, but Usnavi paled and flapped his hands as he desperately backpedaled.

“No wait, I’m sorry. Not like that. I didn’t know you that well! You’ve been Sonny’s friend basically his whole life, but I really didn’t know you…”

“Chillax, Usnavi. I was messing with you.”

“I take it back. You’re a bad influence, and I want you out of my apartment.”

Pete laughed softly at Usnavi’s face, hands deep in his pockets as he ran a toe through a bit of snowy slush that Usnavi had dragged in. “Where’ve you been anyway?”

“The bodega. I close early when I wanna spend the day with Sonny, but I really can’t afford to miss the morning rush. And we got regulars I can’t be disappointing.”

There was a moment of hesitation, before Pete decided that it couldn’t hurt to ask. “You, uh, you want me to go down and man the store for you? I’ve worked that register and coffee machine by Sonny for years. I could do it.”

Usnavi’s jaw dropped open, and he looked disbelievingly at Pete. “Excuse me?”

“Shit, I was just suggesting it. I mean, then you don’t lose business for the day, and you can hang with Sonny guilt-free. You don’t have any other employees, man. You’ve been wearing yourself thin with him away at school. It’s not like I have anything better to do, and you don’t have to pay me or anything.”

“Now I know past-me would have died seeing this,” Usnavi said, still in shock, as he pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and tossed them in Pete’s direction. “But present-me trusts you. Don’t mess this up.”

Pete saluted mockingly.

“Are you two fighting again?” came a half-asleep voice from the hall. Sonny walked out, curls in disarray and eyes mostly closed. He had fold lines on his cheek from the pillow, and Pete wanted to kiss him. “I thought you’d left without saying goodbye,” Sonny sighed, hugging Pete and resting his head on his shoulder as if Usnavi wasn’t there.

“Nah. Just got hungry and came to steal one of your granola bars.” Pete put his arms around Sonny’s back, and the keys jingled.

“What are those… Are those the bodega keys?”

Pete was about to question Sonny’s ability to recognize them by sound alone, when Usnavi cleared his throat. “Pete’s stealing your job for the day.”

“You gave him the keys? You’re letting him run the bodega?”

“Yep.” Usnavi’s voice cracked on the word.

Sonny was wide awake now, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Am I still asleep? Is this a dream?”

“Trying to figure that one out too,” admitted Pete. “Okay, I’ll let you two do your thing. Don’t worry about me. I got this.” Then, feeling strangely invincible, Pete kissed Sonny right there in the main room of his apartment, in front of Usnavi and everything, the keys to the bodega clutched in his hand. It felt surreal, but he waved to them both and left, shutting the front door behind him.

Sonny was still gaping at Usnavi.

“Sonny, are you mad at me? I didn’t—“ Then he was enveloped in a tight hug.

“Thank you. Thanks, Usnavi.”

Usnavi could feel the stiffness on the back of Sonny’s shirt from the painting Pete had rendered there. “It was nothing. He’s helping me out.”

“It means a lot.” Then Sonny pulled back, taking a deep bracing breath and sticking his hands on his hips with a grin. “So cuz, what’s on the schedule today?”

Usnavi clapped his hands and grabbed a plastic bag from the kitchen counter. “Breakfast first, then popcorn and movies until we die.”

Sonny pumped a fist in the air, and they set to work mixing pancake batter. Usnavi tried to show off his ability to flip one out of the pan, but he missed and dropped half cooked dough on the floor. But Sonny was laughing so hard he was crying, so Usnavi counted it as a win anyway.

Sometime after their second movie they felt hungry enough again for popcorn, so Sonny headed to the kitchenette to start popping it, while Usnavi said he was going to go check on Pete. Sonny looked like he wanted to protest, but then he thought better of it and just told him to hurry instead.

Jogging down to the bodega didn’t take long, but Usnavi still had enough time to imagine worst case scenarios. Pete could have stolen all the merchandise he could hold. Or he could have let others come in and do the same. He might have fallen asleep at the counter, or run out of change. Worst of all, what if Vanessa had stopped by and he’d charged her for her coffee?

Once Usnavi actually stumbled through the door, he found the exact opposite of his fears. Pete sat on the counter, chatting idly with Daniela, reaching behind himself to pull a few ones from the register, handing them to her with her receipt. He looked up at Usnavi when he walked in. “Coming to check on me? I promise it’s going fine.”

Daniela turned around, and she looked livid. This was mildly concerning to Usnavi, especially when she immediately started cussing him out in Spanish, advancing toward him.

“This is fine?” Usnavi yelped, trying to dodge her by ducking down the chip aisle.

“Usnavi De la Vega! You have been keeping secrets!”

“Secrets? What kind of secrets?”

“Oh, don’t you ‘what kind of secrets’ me, young man. Over a year! A year! And you never told me.”

“What?” Usnavi shot his best “please help me” look to Pete, but he was ignoring them, mopping up muddy snow that had been tracked in.

“Sonny’s been dating Graffiti Pete for a whole year, and you didn’t think to tell me? I trimmed your hair just two weeks ago, and you said nothing. Not last time, and not all the times before that. ”

“It wasn’t my news to tell! It was for Pete and Sonny to share.” He tried to skirt an end-cap, but Pete had blocked his path with a yellow wet floor sign.

“I wouldn’t have told anyone else,” Daniela clucked, reaching a trapped Usnavi.

He tried to hide his disbelieving scoff but wasn’t quite fast enough. It was almost the end of Usnavi De la Vega, but he was saved by the door opening to admit a young high school student looking for a hot chocolate to fight the cold. Daniela backed off and sighed. “I should just move to the Bronx altogether if no one’s willing to talk to me around here.” She smiled to Usnavi. “Just tell me this. Are they cute? Affectionate?”

Usnavi colored. “Yeah. To both.”

Daniela clasped her hands together. “Bring them both in for haircuts.” She glanced at Pete’s head. “Or eyebrow threading. Or something.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I left Sonny waiting for me at home. I gotta get going.” He headed for the door. “Keep up the good work, Pete.” He got a thumbs up, and then Usnavi stepped outside. He jogged back to the apartments again, this time more to keep warm than for speed.

He slid in the door to find Sonny already munching on popcorn with Pacific Rim cued up on the tv. “Your popcorn’s cold. How’s he doing?”

“He’s doing a great job. I just had a little run in with Daniela. She just learned about you two.”

Sonny shook his head. “Good. Now we don’t have to tell anyone else. She can just spread the news for us.”

“Do you mind?”

“Nah. Pete and I have been letting people find out on their own anyway.” Sonny picked up the remote. “You ready to watch now?”

“Yeah. You can hit play.” Usnavi looked down. “Hey, this popcorn’s cold.”

Four movies down, it was almost eight pm, and Pete called, asking to come up. Usnavi rang him in and headed into his bedroom. When Pete walked in, he handed back the keys to Sonny and promised he’d emptied the register, locked the door, and lowered the grate. Sonny patted the couch next to him, but Pete shook his head. “I gotta get home. Paying rent today, and I wanna catch my landlady before she goes to bed.”

Usnavi walked back out with a handful of cash. “I know you said I didn’t need to pay you, but my conscience won’t allow it. Speaking of money, I’ve been curious. How do you make rent anyway?”

Pete shuffled back and forth. “I sell t-shirts in Central Park, do odd jobs, take painting commissions. It’s a shitty apartment, but Abuela helped me find it, so the rent’s pretty cheap.”

“Well, I was just thinking. You’re right. I only have one employee, and he’s hardly ever here. So, would you be interested, in taking his position when he’s gone?”

Pete looked back and forth between the two De la Vegas. Sonny was staring at Usnavi, and thus was not providing any moral support. “Are you serious right now?”

“You can only go part time over the summer, because I can’t afford two full time employees at once.”

“You’re serious. Yes. Yes, absolutely I’ll take the job. Sonny, we can work together!”

Usnavi sputtered. “Oh no. What have I done. You two are gonna get so distracted…”

Sonny was whooping and jumping around holding Pete’s shoulders. 

Pete was trying to grab his hips and hold him still to no avail. “Thank you, Usnavi. Thank you so much. Okay. I really need to go. I’ll text you tonight, Sonny!”

“One last thing, Pete,” Usnavi continued. “Vanessa’s staying the night tomorrow, so I doubt Sonny’ll wanna stick around.”

“Guess I better go pay that rent then, so we have a place to crash.” Pete shot Sonny two thumbs up, said goodbye again, and left.

“‘Navi, you do realize that you just hired Graffiti Pete to work in the bodega.”

“I’m still kinda trying to wrap my mind about that too.”

“Who are you, and where’s my grudge-holding cousin?”

“He’s in the kitchen, making himself dinner, and if you want him to make you some too, you better be careful.”

Sonny went to bed contentedly full, thanking Usnavi for a great first day back. It had been nice to just sit and eat and not have to face the outside world. Sonny hadn’t had a restful day in a while, what with midterms and finals, and he’d enjoyed getting to spend alone time with his cousin. Sonny also had a distinct feeling that Usnavi’s relationship with Pete had changed for the better, and he couldn’t help but be proud of his boyfriend for picking up the job. 

Pete and Sonny hadn’t had many fights over the year they’d been together, but one particularly memorable one had been about Pete’s unwillingness to get a regular job to pay his rent. Sonny wondered if that argument had been part of the reason he’d accepted, or if he had forgotten all about it.

After his evening shower, Sonny headed into his room, where he found his sheets still rumpled, and he remembered the night before. A spark of nervous anticipation alit in his stomach. He and Pete had discussed having Sonny’s first time over Christmas break, and after their little foray into fingering, he was pretty sure they were both good to go with the plan. Tomorrow night they’d be at Pete’s place, with no Usnavi right next door. It seemed as good a time as ever.

He suddenly wasn’t tired, and he was concerned he might not be able to fall asleep at all, until he face planted onto his pillow and breathed in. It smelled like Pete, and Sonny realized he was disgustingly sentimental as he pulled his pillow in close and dozed off with his face buried in it.

Morning came in the form of shouting outside. It turned out to the Piragua Guy, still attempting to sell shaved ice despite it being twenty degrees outside. He was pushing his cart with some difficulty through the snow drifts that had accumulated. Sonny watched him almost sadly, until the chill from being by his window was too great.

He dressed and packed clean underwear and toiletries into his backpack, already preparing for the evening. With nothing else to do, Sonny headed down to the bodega, excited for another day of hanging around Usnavi and a chance at seeing the barrio neighbors he’d been missing.

The freezing air bit at him through his beanie, scarf, gloves, and winter coat, and Sonny tried to burrow down into them more. He stomped his boots before walking in, but the dirty sludge inside showed very few others had bothered to show the same courtesy.

“Hey Sonny. I mean, I assume that’s you under there,” joked Usnavi from his place at the counter, a few feet from the space heater. The middle finger wasn’t as effective in gloves, so Sonny was encouraged to start peeling off layers and dropping them beside his stool. “Yo, we have a coat rack in the back for a reason.”

“It’s also subzero back there.”

Usnavi sighed and picked up the shed winter clothing, heading away to hang them up himself.

Sonny turned and saw Benny’s travel coffee mug still sitting by the machine. “Hey, did Benny not come in this morning?”

“Oh, he’s going to be pretty late today. He’s heading to the airport with the Rosario’s to pick Nina up, which means they’ll probably be throwing a big dinner party tonight.”

“Are you not going? Cause of Vanessa?”

Usnavi narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger. “I’m not getting out of it just because Vanessa’s visiting, so you’ll be going too. We can head out early and each spend our evenings however we please, but we have to show up. It’s only polite.”

Sonny held up his hands to calm Usnavi down. “I know, I know. I was just asking. Besides, how are they having a get together tonight, if they plan to throw a Christmas party too?”

“Oh, Daniela and Carla are hosting for Christmas. It’s a potluck, so we’ll have to think of something to make.”

“Mashed potatoes are easy.”

“If you think Camila won’t be able to tell if you try to use a boxed mix, you’re dead wrong.”

“Damn. Got me again. Whatever, it’s still easy enough to peel and cook some potatoes. We can hand-mash them and take our anger out.”

“Anger at what?”

“I don’t know. Whatever we’re feeling in the moment.”

Usnavi rolled his eyes. “Is this what you do in your activism club?”

“No, but it’s a good idea. I’ll pitch it next year when I’m vice-president.” Sonny explained his plan to lead ENGAGE by his senior year, which led into talking about his major classes and how he wanted his concentration in political theory. “I’m taking classes on government ethics, and the responsibilities of the different political offices. Like, responsibilities to the people, not just job wise.”

Usnavi nodded along, enraptured by Sonny’s passion for his schooling, though they had to occasionally pause to help customers. “Am I getting paid for this?” Sonny asked as he finished mopping up snow-fueled sludge by the door.

“Nope. I’ve got a second employee now that you’ll have to compete with for hours.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re family. You work here out of the kindness of your own heart, not because you want money.”

Sonny gave him a death glare until Usnavi conceded and promised to pay him for his time. Content, he went back to mopping until the door opened again.

“Benny and the Rosarios!” Usnavi greeted the group.

“Sounds like a band,” Benny laughed, slapping hands and pulling him into a sidehug.

Nina went straight for Sonny behind the counter. “And how’s my fellow collegiate doing?”

Usnavi beamed. “He’s doing pretty great. He was just telling me about his activism efforts and the tie-in to his major.”

“Don’t call them efforts. It makes it sound like they aren’t working,” Sonny complained. “Hey Nina. How’ve you been doing?”

“Whoo, there’s so much to talk about. You might as well wait for tonight, so you don’t have to hear it all again.”

“Ooh girl, I always have time for you. Lay it on me.” Sonny tapped the stool next to him.

Nina threw her head back and laughed. “You’re never going to get over me, are you?”

Even Benny was humored by the exchange. “Do I have some competition to be worried about?”

“Only if I decide to start cradle robbing,” Nina joked, pinching Sonny’s cheek the way she had when he was still fifteen.

“Hey,” he said, pulling away to rub his face. “You said to go for girls my age, and I’m in college now, and you’re college age.”

“I’m about to be grad school age, so you’re still going to have to wait.”

Kevin and Camila stood quietly by, content to watch the conversation.

“Get your own girlfriend,” Benny teased, pretending to try to shield her from Sonny. “Don’t you have Pete?”

“He’s not my girlfriend.”

Benny threw his hands in the air, conveying that he was giving up. Usnavi stepped in to save him. “Sonny, leave him alone. He’s had a long day. We need to let them get what they need and go anyway, unless you don’t want any food at the dinner tonight.”

“No food at a dinner makes it rather pointless,” Camila chimed in. “But we’re just here for coffees to fuel us until this evening.”

Sonny and Usnavi worked together to whip up five coffees, Kevin wanting two to make up for the fact Benny wouldn’t be bringing him a second one later. After carefully adding the right amounts of cream and sugar, the De la Vegas promised to see the group later, and they left.

Evening came much faster than it felt it should have, and Usnavi begged Sonny to close up so he could go meet Vanessa at the train station. Sonny let him grovel for a minute, before agreeing.

Sonny locked the front door and started to do a light cleaning of the aisles. He mopped the floor one last time and went to go empty the register. As he tried to stick the bills into the pouch in the safe, the corners kept jamming and refusing to slide in easily. He pulled the whole pouch out and open so he could finally put them inside, but in doing so, Sonny knocked free a bundle of scraps of paper that had been hiding in the dark recesses of the safe. After tossing the money inside, he bent down to pick it up. It was covered in Usnavi’s tiny chicken scratch handwriting and was basically just a long list of dollar amounts growing steadily higher, from twenty into the thousands. Sonny turned it over to look at the top sheet and found “Tab: Sonny” written on it. He grinned and felt his heart squeeze warmly at his dorky cousin, who had spent years referring to a tab, and he’d actually been keeping it all along. Tiny numbers were packed on the papers, each one increasing by only a few cents or dollars each time. It felt like history in his hand, and the good feelings didn’t fade, even after he tucked it back inside and shut the safe.

When Sonny made it to the Rosario’s party, he went straight up to Pete, who was standing alone in a corner of the room, people watching and drinking something out of a glass. “Yo, what’s up? Hey, I gotta show you something next time you come by the bodega. Usnavi’s actually been keeping track of my tab. It’s hilarious.”

Pete barked a laugh. “You’re kidding me. He wasn’t making it up?”

“Nope. He’s been doing it. I’m thirsty. Can I have a sip? Is this alcoholic?”

Pete passed him the glass. “It’s not. Just soda. I’m not gonna drink anything harder tonight, since, you know, we have plans for later.” He gave him a meaningful look.

Sonny nearly choked on the drink. “Stop it. I gotta make it through this party until we leave, and I really don’t wanna be hard the whole time.”

Pete looked around quickly. “Shush, you. Half the barrios here.”

Sonny snickered and passed the cup back, completely empty. 

“Goddamnit.”

“I said I was thirsty.”

Pete couldn’t help himself. “Oh I know you are.”

Sonny batted at him, so Pete countered by casually leaning an elbow on his shoulder, using him as an armrest. “Stop it! I’m not that short.”

Further teasing was cut off by Camila announcing the start of dinner and handing out plates. They moved quickly through the line, piling food on and then finding seats around the living room. As they ate, Nina talked about the start of her final year, and then Sonny got to retell his experience with ENGAGE and his newest classes. Once the conversation turned to the older adults’ topics, Vanessa and Usnavi stood and started saying their goodbyes. Pete and Sonny joined them, and Benny gave a wolf whistle for both couples that incited laughter from around the room.

Usnavi looked awfully suspicious as he told Sonny goodnight, but then Vanessa was tugging on his coat sleeve, and he followed after her. Pete steered Sonny toward the subway by bumping their shoulders, since it was far too cold to hold hands. They made it through the fare gates and stood on the platform, entertaining themselves with blowing clouds of warm breath into the air.

Their train pulled in, and its floor was slick with melted snow. It flew out of the station, and soon they were stepping off two blocks from Pete’s apartment complex. The pair jogged up the stairs to the floor he lived on, trying to warm themselves up. Inside, Pete hadn’t had any heat running, so the studio was almost as frigid as the train station had been.

“I’ll get some warmth going in here,” Pete said, shivering slightly in his thin coat.

Sonny huddled on the futon, socked feet curling into the cushion when he drew his knees up to his chest. He slid each hand up the opposite sleeve and stuck his nose down into his scarf. 

The old heating unit rumbled to life and slowly pumped warm air into the room, a small space heater helping as best it could. Pete peeled Sonny out of his various layers, until they could squish together under a blanket to share body heat.

“Isn’t it supposed to be getting hotter? Global warming and all that,” Sonny grumbled.

“The fuck if I know,” Pete said back. He pulled Sonny closer into a body-encompassing hug in an attempt to thaw him out. Sonny was breathing pleasantly warm air against Pete’s neck, and it reminded him of their actual plans for the evening. The first kiss was laid along a tendon, followed by a second a little higher up. Pretty soon Sonny was mouthing at Pete’s jaw, and the shivering had pretty much stopped. Not content to let his neck get all the action, Pete steered Sonny to his lips instead. He tongued at his lower lip until Sonny opened up and deepened the kiss.

Slowly Pete tipped him backward along the futon, stretching out over him. “I seem to recall. You asking me to. Pull out all the stops. For you,” he said between kisses.

Sonny sheepishly shrugged from his position under Pete. “What can I say? Impress me.”

“Sounds awfully like a challenge.”

“Then I hope you can meet it.”

Something dangerously competitive flared in Pete’s eyes, and he suddenly flung an arm out in the air to the side, flexing his hand. When nothing happened, Sonny made a questioning sound. “I was kind of hoping to summon the lube,” Pete admitted.

“What the fuck. With what? Your telekinesis?”

Pete stood up and headed for the bathroom to grab it himself. “Someday it’s going to work, and then you’ll be sorry for making fun of me.”

“I really doubt that. Speaking of making fun of you, why do you keep the lube in your bathroom?”

“It’s a bottle, and bottles go in the bathroom cupboard. I don’t know, man. It just makes sense to me.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “Well, hurry up and get back over here. I’m getting cold again.”

Pete turned the space heater up a notch and slid back over Sonny. “Okay, now where were we? Hah!” He flung out his arm out again, lube in hand this time, before looking at it in fake shock. “Whoa! What do you know? Look what I summoned with my telekinesis.”

Pete muffled Sonny’s cries of, “You’re absolutely ridiculous!” by pulling his shirt up and off over his head. Goosebumps formed immediately on Sonny’s skin, and he reached up to tug at Pete’s shirt as well. “I’m not going to be the only one freezing my ass off here. Fair exchange please.”

Pulling off the shirt he was wearing, Pete sighed. “Your ass isn’t going to freeze off. It’s still covered up. Which of course, is a problem we’re going to have to fix.” Sonny lifted his hips to help him slide his pants off.

“That’s the worst seduction line I’ve ever heard.”

“You hear many then?” Pete bantered back, going for his own sweats next.

Once they were both naked, Sonny pulled the blanket over them, and they continued making out to try and warm up a bit further. In the tight space, they kept brushing together, and Sonny was starting to make little sounds in his throat.

Finally Pete drew back, taking some of the blanket with him. “You ready then? No shame in saying no at any point. There’s a million other things we can do instead, and they don’t even have to be sexual.”

Sonny groped for the lube bottle and popped the cap. “Let’s do this,” he replied, looking determined.

“Maybe calm down there? This isn’t a rally, you know. You can relax and have fun. In fact, that’s highly recommended.”

“I’m fine, Pete. I’m not lying. Go for it.”

Pete took the lube and slicked up his fingers, breathing warm air as he spread the slick around to heat it up. “Okay then, prepare to be impressed.” He wrapped a fist around Sonny first, twisting his grip as he reached the top, then dropping back down tightly. When Sonny’s jaw went slack and his eyes fell shut, Pete reached further back to lightly touch and press at his entrance. He finally slid the tip of his middle finger in, easing it back out before dipping inside a little further. He repeated the process, sitting back and letting his left hand continue stroking Sonny to keep him relaxed. 

When Sonny could take Pete’s middle finger with ease, he gently curled it, feeling for his prostate. Sonny’s spine stiffened, and he breathed out in a whoosh. “That’s just always going to be great, isn’t it?” he panted.

“It’s a favorite for a lot of people, yeah.” Pete slid his finger back out and paused to add more lube. “Here we go. Stretch time.” He eased two fingers inside and began a gentle scissoring motion. By the time he’d reached three, Sonny wasn’t completely hard anymore, but Pete continued the occasional prostate massage to keep him riled up. 

“If you think you’re ready, we can start at any time.”

Sonny shifted and considered. “Maybe a bit longer? Just in case.”

“Hey. Reminder that we don’t have to do anything.”

“And, hey, reminder that I still am completely on board. Just gimme a few more minutes?”

“Sure, Sonny.” Pete slid his three fingers back in and continued spreading them. “Just say when.”

True to his word, Sonny waited a couple minutes longer before giving his approval.

Pete reached between the futon cushions to fish out a condom, and when he looked up, Sonny was giving him an unamused look. “Really? You keep the lube in the bathroom, but you stuff condoms in your bed and couch combo?”

Pete rolled the condom on in one smooth motion, then froze and snatched up the empty packet, examining it frantically. He seemed to find what he was looking for, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Shit, I was afraid it might have expired.”

“If we’re being honest, I’m really not impressed yet,” Sonny joked. Pete planted a hand on Sonny’s face, ignoring him when he tried to pry it off. Dropping the wrapper off to the side, Pete finally let go, before he took careful aim and slowly started pressing into him.

“Oh shit,” Sonny breathed.

Pete stopped and checked in with him, but he flashed an okay sign with one hand, using the other to reach backwards and grab the arm of the futon. When Pete was finally in all the way, he gently poked Sonny’s cheek. “Hey, you did it.”

Sonny cracked an eye. “Oh my god. This is ridiculous.”

“You still good?”

“Yes. I’m great, just. Can you move, or something.”

Pete didn’t need to be told twice, and he gingerly flexed his hips to test the waters. A thin whine leaked out of Sonny, and he tried not to laugh. “Can you lift your butt for a second here?” he asked and was met with an “are you kidding me” expression. “I’m trying to put a pillow under you. Trust me. It’ll help. Here, lift up on the count of three.” He counted down, and on three Sonny made a strangled noise and raised his hips. Pete slid the pillow underneath and helped him lower slowly back down. “Okay, how’s that.”

“I don’t really notice a difference?” Pete gave another small, shallow thrust, and Sonny’s arms flew up to wrap around his neck. He used his new grip to elevate his upper body, and his head hung backward from its height above the futon. “There’s the difference. That’s definitely new.”

Pete smiled a little smugly. “I’m going to start impressing you now.”

“Sounds great. Please do.”

Hovering back over him, Pete pulled Sonny’s legs up around his hips and settled on his forearms on either side of Sonny’s head. He leaned down to kiss him, and Sonny’s half-lidded eyes and open mouth made him release a groan of his own. Judging by the pressure on his stomach, Pete was fairly certain that Sonny was hard again. Pete started moving, slowly gaining speed and force until he felt what they were doing could actually be qualified as sex, then he took two fistfuls of Sonny’s curls and pulled backward to expose his neck.

“Ah— shit— Pete, holy fuck.”

“Oh. Is that good?” Pete asked, tangling his fingers further and giving little tugs on Sonny’s hair. “Yeah? Do you like that?”

“I swear you like to make me say this embarrassing shit out loud. Yes, I do.”

“It’s called communication, and it’s a vital part of any sexual encounter.”

“Sexual en— Pete, I’m the college person here, and I can’t even get a vocabulary going right now.”

“Clearly. ‘College person?’ Try student.”

Sonny opened his mouth to make a snarky retort, but Pete turned it to a moan with a roll of his hips and matching squeeze of his hands in Sonny’s curls. Pete smothered his own noises in the exposed expanse of Sonny’s neck, leaving wet kisses and soft bites along it. Marks slowly started forming, but when Pete tried to lean back, Sonny’s hand flew to his head, holding him in place, so he took the hint. It grew harder and harder to breathe, between neck kisses and the exertion of holding up the lower half of his body.

Pete listened as Sonny’s sounds began to grow louder and higher, before he stopped moving altogether. The growl of frustration that ripped from Sonny’s throat was as impressive as it was terrifying. “Something wrong, Sonny?”

“Move, Pete. Goddamnit. I’m so close, come on.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Pete put all his weight into his hips so Sonny couldn’t move them. “You wouldn’t kill me,” he smiled.

“I’ll tell Usnavi. And he’ll have Vanessa kill you.”

“Mmhm,” Pete nodded condescendingly.

Sonny continued to squirm and writhe, but Pete just waited until he’d calmed down and was no longer on the edge of coming before starting to move again. He kissed him thoroughly, slipping a little tongue in, but then Sonny was pulling back to gasp for air, eyes closed tightly. Pete carefully gauged how close he was, trying to decide when to stop. Sonny seemed to sense this, and he jerked bodily before pleading, “Don’t you dare. Don’t do it. Pete… Don’t even think— damn you.” He seethed when movement stopped all over again.

“Are you actually asking me to stop stopping, or are you going to let me do this one more time?”

Sonny seethed silently for a moment. “You can keep going.”

“Keep going going, or keep going stopping?”

Sonny had backed off from the edge again, so he took a moment to center himself and calm down enough to think. “Keep going stopping. Which sounds ridiculous I hope you know.”

Pete smiled and kissed him again, unable to help himself. Then he slowly picked up speed and angled precisely to push Sonny toward the edge as quickly as possibly. Expecting the halt this time, Sonny screwed up his face in preparation, but when Pete did actually stop, he still let out a displeased whine.

“Shhh,” Pete whispered in Sonny’s ear. “Just think how nice it’s going to be when I don’t back off. Just breathe, okay?”

Sonny let out air he hadn’t realized he was holding, making several short, shaky gasping noises. “I’m not going to have time to kill you, because you’re gonna get me first.”

Pete kissed along the shell of his ear. “I hope you mean that in a good way. How’s your first time going?”

“Great, but it could be better.” He wiggled his hips demonstratively.

“I think I get the picture,” Pete said, then he rolled his hips and began moving again. He leaned on his right forearm, holding a fistful of Sonny’s hair with the same hand, while using his left to reach behind him and raise one of Sonny’s legs to a higher angle. His tempo increased, and the new position had Sonny’s back arching again and his hands scrabbling at Pete’s back. He let loose a long chain of expletives and left a few scratch marks on Pete’s shoulder blades with his blunt nails.

Pete had a brief moment of panic when he realized he might end up coming first, but when he adjusted for better leverage, he inadvertently tugged on Sonny’s curls, and with a yelp, Sonny tipped over the edge, clenching hard. It was enough to pull Pete along after him, who buried his face back into his neck, breathing hard against the trail of marks left there previously.

After he caught his breath, Pete propped himself up over Sonny, whose body was still twitching with aftershocks. He cautiously drew out, and Sonny groaned at the oversensitivity. “Color me impressed,” he sighed contentedly.

“I’m glad I managed to exceed your expectations.”

“Oh fuck, man. You exceeded expectations I didn’t even know I had.”

Pete snorted at his hoarse voice. “I think I broke you, Sonny.”

“Yeah, you did. I hope you know I’m not moving anytime soon. Also, fuck, can you crack a window or something? It’s like a sauna in here.”

It felt strange doing so, but Pete dutifully cracked a window, giving a sigh of relief at the previously despised cold air that slid in. Snow was still coming down, and the view of the fire escapes outside coupled with the view on Pete’s futon inside was enough to tighten his chest. He cleared his throat and turned away, pulling off the used condom while gesturing at the window. “Don’t let me forget to close that.”

Sonny flashed a thumbs up from his motionless sprawl, before letting his whole arm flop limply down again. Pete went to the bathroom to replace the lube in the cabinet, and he grabbed a damp washrag while he was there. Sonny moaned appreciatively as he was cleaned off and kindly redressed in a pair of Pete’s sweats and one of his faulty shirts. “You know, I brought clean underwear,” Sonny rasped.

Pete shushed him. “Too late now. Just get comfy.”

“Then hurry up and get in here. It’s cold.”

Pete shut the window with a click. “Make up your mind, Sonny. Are you hot or cold?”

“Cold. Just freezing. If only there was someone who could share their body heat.”

“You’re certainly subtle today, aren’t you?” Pete pulled on a rattier pair of sleep pants and crawled under the sheets to join Sonny.

“We got lube on your blanket.”

Pete shuffled it around until the stain was down by their feet instead. “You good now? Can we sleep?”

Sonny’s mouth stretched in a wide yawn. “Yep. Night, Pete.”

A thumb grazed a particularly high mark on Sonny’s neck. “Good thing it’s scarf season. Night, Sonny.”

The next morning was incredibly awkward as Sonny tried desperately to arrange his scarf in a conservative manner, before giving it up as a lost cause. “It’s not like Usnavi won’t know anyway,” he reasoned, though Pete still paled slightly.

They walked back to the bodega, where Usnavi was already up and serving coffee and hot chocolate to a group of middle schoolers and their parents. Vanessa was behind the counter too, counting out change.

Pete and Sonny busied themselves with each picking a bag of chips until the other customers cleared out. Usnavi glared in their direction. “I wonder how much more of a profit I could turn if my two employees stopped stealing all my product.”

“Add it to my tab,” Sonny joked. “I found it in the safe.”

“Nice voice,” Vanessa commented, and Pete shot her proud index finger pistols with a click of the tongue like she’d commended him for a job well done.

“You found that?” asked Usnavi, choosing not to comment on the slight gravel to Sonny’s throat.

“Yeah. Knocked it on the floor when I was closing last night.”

“I keep it current, you know.”

“Oh, I noticed. It’s a little obsessive, even for you.”

“Someday you’re gonna repay me,” Usnavi sniffed, but he let them eat their chips without further complaint.

“So,” cooed Vanessa. “besides the cold, is there any other reason for that scarf?” Any bravado to Pete’s body language melted out immediately. Vanessa walked over and pulled down an edge of the knit, raising her eyebrows. “Better keep that on. You’ll scare away the customers.”

Usnavi almost dropped the coffee maker’s carafe.

When they locked up that evening, Vanessa long gone, Sonny noticed that two dollars and fifty cents had been added to the tab bundle. As the three of them walked to the De la Vega’s apartment, Sonny couldn’t help but ask Usnavi, “Do you actually expect me to pay you back someday? I’m going to owe you like, six thousand dollars.”

“I’m kinda expecting it back in a different medium.”

“What do you mean?”

“One piece of paper. A diploma. That’s all I wanna see.”

“You just want me to graduate?”

“I hope we aren’t paying for these years of schooling for nothing.”

Sonny was quiet for a minute, considering. “You know, this was Nina’s fifth year. She’s made up for the lost time from when she dropped out, so she’ll be graduating, right?.”

“Yep. And you can bet the whole barrio’s going to be celebrating.”

“I think… I think I want that. For me. Graduating I mean.” Usnavi and Pete wisely didn’t say anything, letting Sonny continue. “You know ‘Navi, back when you first started putting pressure on me to actually try in high school, I panicked a lot, because I didn’t think college was something I wanted to do. And you know, for some people it still isn’t. But I’m glad I get to go. I’m lucky really.”

“It was meant to happen. Nina’ll be the first one out, and we all expect you to be hot on her tail.”

“Shit, you have no clue how much that would have freaked me out senior year.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Nah, it’s fine now. I think I can do it. Hell no. I know I can do it. I think I’m gonna try to exceed expectations you guys never knew you had.”

Pete did a spit-take at that.

Usnavi looked puzzled. “Did I miss something?”

“He just fucking quoted himself from last night,” Pete said incredulously.

Sonny fought the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Maybe.”

“I don’t want to know the context,” Usnavi whined, and Pete and Sonny both laughed at him.

Once they reached the apartments, the trio split ways. Pete gave Sonny a gentle kiss before heading off for the metro. The cousins waved goodbye until he was out of sight, before trundling into their home. Usnavi pulled off his coat and hung his hat, turning to Sonny. “So, you gonna show me the damage?”

Sonny winced and unwound his scarf, revealing the spattering of marks on his neck.

Usnavi let out a low whistle. “You realize you’re going to have those still by the time we go to Daniela’s for Christmas? You’ll have to keep a scarf on so you don’t ruin any photos.”

Sonny grinned and put a hand to his neck. “Oh well. I promise I won’t ruin Christmas with my displayed evidence of homosexuality.”

“Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant more the sex part.”

Despite protests, Sonny ended up wearing a scarf throughout the whole party anyway. Then it was time to head back to Wesleyan, and the by now familiar process of hopping into the car with Benny and Usnavi was feeling less bittersweet and more like the continuation of a side adventure. This romanticized sentiment was thrown out by the time finals and the end of the year rolled around, but Sonny, Patrick, and Lee pulled long nights studying and finishing term projects, and it paid off in the form of stellar grades for all three. They parted for the summer, with promises to text and FaceTime accordingly, and then Sonny was halfway done with college already.

He helped Pete close the bodega while it was still mid-morning. They’d opened for the early usuals to let Usnavi have a day off to sleep in with Vanessa, and then they headed to the metro to meet everyone at Daniela’s.

“Hurry! Come in, come in!” Carla cried, herding the pair to where it seemed most of the barrio was squeezed inside. The Piragua Guy handed them each a strawberry shaved ice as they walked through.

“Do you even know his real name?” whispered Sonny, to which Pete just shrugged and shook his head.

They joined the group in crowding around Daniela’s laptop, which had Skype pulled up and waiting. Pretty soon a call rang in from Kevin Rosario, and Vanessa clicked to answer it. The room erupted in cheers at the sight of Camila, Kevin, and Benny, squished together in a set of bleachers with hoards of other proud parents and family friends.

“Yo, yo, yo! Reporting live from Stanford, California!” Benny called, crackling over the speakers.

The group went wild again, shouting and screaming until Daniela signaled for quiet.

There was idle chatter with Camila and Benny, allowing for pauses of bad connection and the time delay, until loudspeakers announced the emerging graduates. Even though Kevin muted his phone’s speakers, the barrio inhabitants still cheered wildly when Benny zoomed in on a blurry figure walking to take her seat among her peers.

The speeches were difficult to hear, and the pledge sounded like a garbled mess, but then names were being called, and the room fell silent. They sat through Ackroyd’s and Donovan’s, Harvey’s and Paterson’s, until finally a Randall was called, and they all leaned forward.

When “Nina Rosario, Summa Cum Laude,” was announced over the laptop’s weak speakers, everyone shouted and screamed, grabbing at one another. On screen, Nina accepted her diploma and posed for a photo, and then the image was indecipherable as Benny waved the phone around in the air for his cheer. 

“She did it! That’s our girl!” cried Daniela.

Vanessa whooped and grabbed Usnavi by the waist to spin him around in the limited available space. “We all knew Nina was going places! She never ceases to amaze!”

Once his feet were firmly back on the ground, Usnavi blew a kiss skyward. “Abuela, she did it. Nina made it, Abuela,” he managed through his tears.

The names continued through to a Zimmel, and then confetti popped from all corners, and Benny turned to the phone, almost inaudible over the ruckus. “We’re going down there to find her! Hold tight!”

The screen showed a slow but steady trip down to the field where the main ceremony was being held, and Benny searched through the crowd wildly until there was a muted shout and the camera showed nothing but the bright red fabric of Nina’s robe as he hugged her tightly. The visual finally pulled back, and Nina’s tear-stained but smiling face emerged. 

The room exploded into sound again, before the camera switched back to confused view of Benny. “Shit, it’s still on mute. Let’s try that again.”

He swung the view back to Nina, and Daniela led yet another cheer. “I told you, Nina! I told you we’d all shout your name when you got called up! We were all here for support!”

Nina laughed, wiping at the fresh tears rolling down her face. “Thank you! Thank you all so much! I have my parents and Benny here, but I want you guys to know I miss the rest of my family!”

Carla clasped her hands under her chin, already crying as well. Usnavi made an ugly sobbing sound somewhere in the back.

“I’m so proud of you! Go out and make some money for the rest of us now!” called Vanessa, and Nina jokingly waved her off.

“‘Nessa, you can come work your ass off for five years and make some for yourself!”

Yolanda talked over Vanessa’s “not fucking likely,” in entirely Spanish, and Nina thanked her profusely even though she hadn’t quite caught all of it. Benny made some not-so-subtle whispers asking her to translate.

Suddenly, Nina started to squint at the screen, as if looking for someone. “Where’s Sonny? Sonny’s there, right?”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he grinned, the crowd parting to let him through to the front, with Pete pressed close behind him.

“You’re next, Sonny! This is going to be you in two years! Soak it all in!” She blew him a kiss, and he jolted backwards as if slapped.

“Did you— did I— was that a kiss from Nina Rosario?”

“Tell you what, be standing in this spot, at least at Wesleyan, in two years, and I’ll give you one in person.” Benny and Pete both sputtered and gave joking protest. “On the forehead! Or the cheek!” she amended, still giggly with adrenaline.

“Shit, I can’t keep wastin’ time here. I gotta go study! Graduate a semester early!” Sonny laughed, and Nina flashed a huge grin to the screen.

“Promise me!” she insisted, and Sonny crossed his heart with a single finger.

“I’m gonna let you guys go now!” called Daniela over the din. “Go celebrate and have fun, and know that we’ll all be ready to party with you when you get home!”

“Love you all!” Nina shouted, one last time before Benny waved into the camera, and the feed went black.

The crowd in Daniela’s apartment sighed almost collectively, and they slowly dispersed, chatting excitedly about the dinner they’d throw when the Rosarios and Benny all flew back home.

Sonny and Pete walked back with Usnavi and Vanessa, who went on to go reopen the bodega.

Pete stopped them both in front of the building instead. “So, you’ll notice Benny was there,” he said, pulling Sonny into a hug and resting his chin on his head.

“Yeah? What are you saying?”

“Not much. Just that I’m assuming I’ll be invited to your graduation too?”

Sonny buried his face into Pete’s chest. “Mine’s only two hours away. I’m thinking most of the barrio will be heading out to be there in person.”

“Okay, but how many of them get invited to the after party?”

“Most of them, probably.”

“No, Sonny. The after party.”

“Oh shit, none of them. God. Just you and me, Pete.”

Sonny leaned up to kiss him, but it missed and got his cheek instead. Pete fixed it on the next pass.

“Sonny De la Vega, you’re going to go places too, but please take me with you.”

“I guess. I mean, if you’re planning on sticking around.”

Pete knocked him gently on the head.

“Hey! You two! Get back to work!” called Usnavi. “Sonny, you’ve still got two more years until you’ll have repaid your debt, and Pete, you have a decade of vandalism to atone for.”

“Yes, Usnavi, sir!” they replied in tandem. 

And with that, Pete and Sonny sprinted inside to work the bodega’s register. It turned out money did change people, but sometimes for the better.