AN: I do not own West Side Story. Read at the risk of your Feels. Major character death, and other fun mature content. Based off the book, not the play\movie (The movie is better.) The story is changed a bit towards the end since the last chapters are taken mostly from the book.

Past

It had been a week since the emerald incident and Riff was still off his game. Tony was growing concerned for his long-time friend. "Does anyone know what's up with Riff?" He asked, watching his friend staring up at the sky dreamily. That wasn't right. At all.

"Maybe that PR the Emeralds where tossing around got in a good punch to his head?" Suggested Diesel, the newest recruit. Action laughed and added "Maybe, but aint Riffs skull thick enough to prevent any major damage?" the comment sending the group into a bout of raucous laughter, even Tony chuckled. They sobered quickly though, expecting Riff to come barreling in and teach action a lesson, but he didn't. He didn't even look away from the stars. It was as if he didn't even hear them! Tony knew it was time to pull out the big guns.

He walked over to Riff slowly, the gang following his lead silently. "Hey Riff, whats'a matter with you?" He asked, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder, "There still a Jet in there?" That got Riff to tear his eyes away from the sky, he smiled widely and responded with a hearty "From my first cigarette to my last dying' day." And the group echoed it cheerfully with choruses of "here here!" and "Sing it Riff". Tony held up his hand for silence.

"Well for a Jet, the strongest man on the block, the gang, nobody can take down, the manliest of men, you're acting an awful lot like a chick." Tony sighed sadly. "whatever's happening is none of my business, but you'd better deal with it soon, or you're out. You're only a danger with how out of it you are right now. You're a family man Riff, get a hold of yourself." Riff stood and walked off, patting Tony on the shoulder as he went, "Its not that simple Tony." He sighed.

Riff had been thinking a lot lately. Thinking about himself, his beliefs and oddly enough, as surly Puerto Rican boy. Now ya see, Riff likes chicks, he loves a girl with a big bust and a little wiggle to her walk. Up until now, Riff was certain there was no chance he was anything but normal, he was straight as a board! But that was before he met the man with jet black hair and chocolate brown eyes. Those beautiful eyes he couldn't get out of his mind, the way his thick accent mangled the English he spoke in the most amazing way, the way he stubbornly refused help even as he could barely stand. He didn't even know this guys name and he was daydreaming about him like some lovesick broad.

He just wandered around Manhattan, no specific destination in mind. He just wanted to get away from his thoughts. He walks passed the coffee pot, he doesn't need any caffeine to keep him awake when he has the mental replay of softly spoken cuss words muttered in Spanish.

It wasn't until he was standing right in front of the dirtiest, nastiest run, down apartment block in hells kitchen, that he realised where his dirty betraying mind had taken him. This was where the PR lived.

"What the Hell are you doing back here Jet!?"

Riff froze. Not daring to look up at the voice above him.

"Oi! Am I not speaking English? What are you doing here American?"

Riff tore his eyes from his shoes and looked up, and it was the biggest mistake he'd ever made. There was the guy he had been dreaming about for the past week, in a muscle shirt, hanging out his window to stare down at him with piercing chocolate eyes.

"I, uh. Don't know actually." Riff chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. The two of them stood in an awkward silence for a solid five minutes, neither of them wanting to say anything.

"Come inside until you do know why you're here, it's cold and I don't want to be responsible if you catch your death out there." He called. Stepping out of the window and opening it far enough for Riff to climb through, an obvious gesture that meant Riff wasn't to go in the front.

He may have already made his biggest mistake, but apparently Riff was determined to make the dumbest mistake of his life too, because he began to climb the fire escape to the strange Puerto Ricans bedroom (Presumably)

Bernardo watched with an amused smiled as the less than graceful American scaled the fire escape to his bedroom. He would never admit it, but he'd be thinking about this strange man more than another man probably should. The way his blue eyes sparkled, the way he showed mercy that his gang supposedly never showed, the way he refused to back down even as Bernardo tried his hardest to push him away. He was ashamed to admit even to himself that he had indeed dreamed about this strange man.

As the American reached his window, he trained his face back to his stoic mask, blocking his feelings from view of the man, he may have showed mercy then, but there was no telling why he was here, and for all Bernardo knew, Riff could be here to attack him in his own home. "Why are you here American?"

The man simply chuckled, and for some reason he couldn't explain, Bernardo decided he wanted to hear that again. "The names Riff and yours is?" Riff asked with a cheeky grin on his face.

"My name is Bernardo, not that its any of your business." Bernardo snapped, though he had to hold back a smirk. Riff laughed, "I think it is my business considering im sitting in your bedroom, on your invitation, I at least should know your name."

"Why are you here Riff." Bernardo deadpanned, ignoring the last comment to glare right at Riff. There was a silence deeper than death in which only an intense stare took place, and then, Riff spoke.

"I guess, I want to know more about you… Bernardo…"

Bernardo stared at the Jet as though he'd grown a second head. 'he's yanking my chain.' He thought. There was no way this man was serious, because what he said just now, sounded an awful lot like flirting, and in America, hell even in Puerto Rico, men do not flirt with other men. Its unnatural!

Riff shuffled uncomfortably in his seat on the window ledge. The wood holding the pane was digging persistently into his upper back from where he leaned against the open window. His mind was reeling. 'what the hell are you thinking! You just pulled your best move on him! He's not a chick, Riffy boy what are you doing!?' his brain (though often left unused) yelled at him.

The two men, both in utter shock at the last spoken words gaped at each other. Both thinking the same thing, 'Riff, you're an idiot.'. that was until an unfamiliar voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter.

"La cena de Benardo está lista!" (Bernardo, dinner is ready!)

Bernardo snapped out of his trance, and glared pointedly at Riff, telling him to leave with his eyes.

"Estoy llegando mama!" (Im coming mom!) he yelled back, all but throwing Riff out his window. He shut his window and turned to leave. When he heard the crazy American shouting like a madman.

If asked he would deny opening the window just a crack, he would tell you it was simply too hot in his room, though it was December and the room was drafty, and he would certainly never admit to the small smile that graced his face when he heard exactly what the American madman was yelling.

'I'll come back tomorrow! Same time, ya hear me!'

And Bernardo, with his last dying breath he would deny that he was looking forward to it.

Present

"Wait hold everything!" Baby John exclaimed, once again interrupting Action, who was now glaring heatedly at the squirt. He was just getting in to it.

"Boss had the hots, for a guy!?"

Action almost face palmed. He knew the pre-teen would react this way. "Like I said he's a good guy he just made some wack decisions, and it was just Bernardo, no-one else. Can I continue?"

Baby John looked stricken, but nodded and sat back down, ready to listen. So Action continued.

"Riff had begun disappearing after rounds a lot. Even Graziella hardly ever saw him…"

AN:No hate please I have enough self hate to cover for you guys. Hope you like it. Review~

PrussianBitch345