Racetrack swiped a nervous hand over his forehead and inhaled hard on his cigarette, trying to get the last of it in one go. His body was filled with jittery nerves and his hands shook. It wasn't like the nerves he got when a race was almost over or when the score was close in Jai Alai—both of which that he bet on in the same building. It was the nerves high school boys got when a girl looked their way. Except it wasn't a girl for Racetrack. It was that new model. Spot. That shoot today, shit. He had almost gotten an erection with the feel of his body pressed against him. After they had left the club, the two decided to walk together. Needless to say, even seeing him only when punctured by the buzzing streetlights, Racetrack was feeling…dizzy.
"So," Spot started. "Are Jack and David, like, together?"
"Why? You like Jack?"
It was the obvious question for him to make. Almost all of the boys became enamored with Jack at one time or another. Racetrack had been one of them himself.
"What? No. I'm just wondering…"
Racetrack shrugged and flicked his cigarette into an alley. "Sort of. Like, they fuck and all that but they're not…together. Jack started just 'helping' David get over Sarah when she died."
"They were close?"
Racetrack paused a beat. "You have no idea."
Spot looked at him weirdly. Racetrack shrugged again.
"Meaning?"
"What's with the obsession with them?" he asked quickly, knowing David wouldn't appreciate it if he leaked too much.
Spot's eyes darted quickly from side to side. It was cute. But then he went back to the bored, indifferent, cold look he seemed to have shellacked on his face at all times.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "I just thought that maybe I saw them on a shoot a long time ago…"
Racetrack knew it was a lie but he didn't press him. The only pressing he wanted to do was pressing Spot against the wall so he could do dirty things to his mouth. His mind swam at the thought.
"Are you, though?" he asked.
"Am I what?" Spot narrowed his eyes. "In love with Jack? I'm not. I just met him."
"No," Racetrack shook his head. "Are you gay?"
"I'm a model," Spot said by way of explanation.
"That a yes?" was there too much hope in his voice?
Spot smiled beatifically but it looked like a smirk.
"What's with the obsession?" he cooed, doing a paltry imitation of Race just seconds ago.
Racetrack laughed a little at his attempt. "That's sad."
Spot shrugged. "Whatever. Our whole lives are sad."
"Wow, way to ride the Depression Express."
He laughed but then his face grew solemn. "Think about it. Every week, we go to places like the warehouse and lose our dignities so some perverts can jerk off to pictures of boys in bondage."
"You just get used to it," Racetrack explained. "You get used to it and become so jaded that nothing they make you do can remove your dignity because it's been long gone and plastered in some rag."
"That's deep."
"That's life."
The two young men stopped and looked at each other under the glowing orange light of a streetlight.
"It's strange," Spot mused. "It's like, I met you a few hours ago and it's like we clicked. Like we're on the same page."
Yes, yes, fuck yes!
"Yeah," Racetrack said. "Weird."
Spot smirked. "Now, does that apply to you?"
Racetrack raised his eyebrows. "Meaning?"
"You know what I mean."
"That I'm gay?"
"Yeah."
Racetrack gave his own version of Spot's smirk. "I'm a model."
Spot laughed. "Nice. Very nice."
They resumed walking, not really going anywhere but both were thinking about what Race had said. He could tell by the look behind the expressionless—yet adorable—blue-gray eyes in Spot's head. Neither spoke as they did until they got to the staircase to the subway station.
"This is me," Spot said. "And thanks…I think."
Racetrack laughed. "Yeah. You too…I think."
Then, without thinking, he leaned forward and gave Spot a light-as-a-feather kiss on the lips. Spot touched his mouth as if he wasn't sure if it had even happened. Then he smirked again and went down into the station. Race didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing but the kiss made him feel better and forget about that jaded shit.