Nothing about this was right and he knew it. It was immoral, unnatural, and he was sickened by himself. The guilt was eating away at him. They were an abomination. Eventually it would have to end. They would be forced by society to ignore each other and pretend these nights never happened. Go their separate ways, each marry a woman and spend their lives faking it with them and struggling to survive.
Even though he knew how wrong it was, the thought of never laying with him again caused the newsboy an agony so deep in his heart it was physical. He could feel the crack beginning in his heart. Every time they parted ways, stealing one last kiss in the nights, mouths pressed hard together, expressing the feelings neither could bring themselves to admit out loud, the crack ran a little deeper, and became a little more irreparable.
The times spent together were sweet, rushed, and heartbreaking. According to society, to church, and to the city they dwelled in, it was a sin, but neither boy could help but to give in to the night and the sheer necessity to be together. He sometimes wondered how if it was as wrong as everyone said, as wrong as he himself found it to be, how it could also feel so very right. He never offered God an apology, as he didn't feel the need to apologize for something he wasn't sorry for.
Moments spent with the other boy were the only moments he felt happy, despite the heartache of knowing it could never truly be. There was an undeniable chemistry between the boys, that ran deeper than any mere physical act or empty words would ever be able express. It was like a silver thread connecting their hearts, so real he felt as if he could touch it.
Sooner than he wished, it would be coming to an end. For two years now they had met in secret, with no words ever exchanged between them. It was tangible and yet so fragile. Both were afraid that to speak of it out loud would destroy it. Everything shared between them was shared in a deafening silence. Laughter, anger, pain, love, it was all communicated through looks and touch.
But the nights were becoming more spaced out, less frequent. The acts they committed together were getting more frantic and passionate; signaling they both knew it would be gone for good before too much longer. They tried to savor each precious second spent together while the rest of the city lay asleep, unaware that its rigid and closed minded rules would keep two soul mates apart for eternity.
Nights like this were the only time he felt true, and didn't hate himself for the lies. In a cold, dark, neglected warehouse they lay. Arms wrapped around each other, clinging to each other and clinging to the moment, ignoring the icy hard floor, ignoring their consciences, and ignoring the condemning whispers in the air around them.
His grip tightened on the other boy as the thought of losing these nights swirled around his brain. His lips searched for their savior, and tingled when they found him. The kisses shared between them were never sweet and romantic. They were hard, needy, hungry, rough. Just like everything between them. This one was no different, as he rolled his body on top of the other boys, breaking the kiss long enough to rid himself of his shirt. The other boy impatiently yanked off his own shirt, before he pulled his face back down to his, and they both silently relished the feel of skin on skin and sin on sin.
This was the farthest either had let it go on previous nights. The violent kissing, forceful caressing, grinding into one another. Both afraid of what it would mean to take that next step. But there was something different about tonight. Maybe it was that on the walk over the stars had been distinguishable from the city lights for once or maybe it was the undeniable finality that this night held. But when he reached his hands down, experimentally working the fixtures on the other boy's pants, he met no resistance. Hips were lifted off cement, to allow removal and soon they had no barriers between them.
His steel blue gaze drilled into the boy below him, the question that would never be asked out loud shining out from his lidded eyes. The deep brown eyes below him blinked, reopening with lust and need, as he gave an imperceptible nod. Positions were switched, and with a thrust and a grunt he was inside. It was over almost as quick as it began. It had been building for two years, and afterwards he felt satisfied but dirty.
The silence between them stretched, becoming uncomfortable as they both dressed. He lit up a cigarette, casting a wary glance at the other boy, only to see his actions mirrored, the other boy lighting a cigar and giving him the same look. The tension broke as they exchanged a smirk, scooting closer together. He snaked his arm around the other boy, who laid his head on his shoulder in response.
The white smoke from his cigarette curled out from his lips, mixing with the blue smoke that drifted seductively from the other boy's lips. They would never meet again after tonight, and they both knew it. Like everything between them it was unspoken and understood. They sat together all night contemplating, unwilling for it to end. Through the dirt streaked window they watched the city become bathed in the hazy, warm dawn light, and knew they could drag it out no longer. They only had a short time to get back to their respective lodging houses before they would be missed. And how would they explain their absence to the other boys? Their secret was theirs and theirs alone. The risk of being found out was too great. It wouldn't matter who he was if they were discovered. He would be soaked or worse. He would lose his beloved city, and he would lose the respect and fear he brought out in people.
He turned his head, making eye contact with the other boy, as they shared their last kiss ever. It wasn't like their others. It was sweet, and gentle, and loving and inevitable. Both boys savored the taste of the other, pulling apart reluctantly, and rising. He reached down, picking up his cane and fingering the gold tip. They crept out of the old building, both turning and giving one last glance around the dusty, filthy room that each found to be so heartbreakingly beautiful. It held their memories, their secrets, their unspoken love. It would keep all of those things safe for them, and in the future, every time they walked by it a bittersweet smile would play at their lips and they would reminisce about how no one but each other and that building knew who they truly were.
Standing in front of their building, they hesitated, afraid for what the future held. Spot looked to the right, knowing he had to turn left, and Race looked to the left, knowing he had to turn right. For the first time in two years the silence was broken, the relationship almost acknowledged.
"Hey, Spot," Race began softly, only to be interrupted by his lover.
"I know," he whispered quietly. Throwing out his senses to assure himself they were still alone in the early morning, Spot reached over, grasping Race's hand and squeezing quickly. He let go of it, and his arm fell back to his side, as one last meaningful look was shared between them. With a heavy heart and a catch in his throat, he turned and strode off in the direction of Brooklyn, forcing his feet to not turn and run back to the only person he would ever truly love.