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It's not really his birthday. They all know it's just a day in January that Tabitha picked for Shatterstar as the Big Day when the years change and he's just a little bit older and maybe a bit wiser, too. It doesn't really matter when because Shatterstar wasn't really born – he was created, and that's a vital difference. Julio thinks it's nice, though, to have a day for Star because he deserves it, deserves to be normal because it's all he seems to want.
It's a boy's night out to celebrate the Big Day, Roberto and Jimmy planning the whole shebang. Julio tried to fight against it, giving reasons why Star probably wouldn't appreciate what they were trying to do, but neither of them listened. They got Sam to come with Tabs' blessing, which is a feat rare in itself, and Julio said, "yeah, fine, you fuckheads, I'll go," so not to be left out.
Julio knew the moment he found out the itinerary that the whole thing's a bad idea. Star seems to agree because, while he's patiently drinking every shot given to him, he looks mortified just to be sitting where he is, sandwiched between Jimmy and ‘Berto as they holler and hoot and wave around one dollar bills.
Julio smiles and drinks his coke, not allowing himself to even want to drink. It's all right, he thinks, it isn't so bad. Shatterstar's wary of drinking, since he never has before and doesn't trust himself if he does, but Julio assured him, "no worries, amigo. I'll watch out for you," in the back of the jeep right before they arrived because it's the least he can do for his friend.
"Mercy," Sam keeps saying, shaking his head as he drinks his beer, "Mercy," so Julio knows he's already drunk. Sam leans over, his grin off-centre, and says, "Tabs is amazing, but Mercy. The girls are almost as beautiful."
Julio only smiles and nods his head, agreeing just so Sam will lean the other way and talk to ‘Berto, who's probably better at ogling women than Julio will ever be. Julio looks to the stage then to Star, who's politely trying to decline another round of shots but rapidly losing the battle.
"You should try sex shots," Roberto's saying, "find a body, lick first, salt second – shoot back the Tequila, lick again. I'm telling you," Roberto's saying, "best type of shot, makes it all taste better. Lemme see if I can grab the waitress," loudly.
Sam's laughing, "she ain't gonna do that, Bobby. Star'd have a better chance of getting one of us to agree. Hoo boy, wouldn't that be funny? Mercy."
Julio grins into his drink, poor Star, and he looks up to see a fuck of a lot of red hair right before there's a tongue across his collarbone – hot and wet – salt, and another lash of tongue, burning this time, charring his skin in ways Julio can barely comprehend. Stupid, Julio sits back and blinks before realising the world is laughing at him.
"Sorry," Star murmurs, and Julio's together enough to understand he doesn't really sound sorry at all, his breath warm in Julio's ear as the hands on his shoulders let go and Julio's alone again, feeling naked and exposed.
Jimmy and ‘Berto and Sam are laughing, patting Shatterstar on the back and laughing harder whenever they look at Julio, who isn't sure whether he should be pissed off, embarrassed or aroused. Whatever it is, he shakes it off because it's not like they're sober enough to appreciate being called assholes. He'll save that for tomorrow morning, when they're all hungover and loud noises equal pain.
Julio mutters something about bathrooms and too much coke, and he walks on shaky legs to the empty washroom, staring at his face in the mirror. His flesh is still wet and there's a trace of salt left – he brushes it off and looks up to see Star standing there, in the doorway, looking really sorry now, or something else, because Star is so hard to read.
"They said," he starts but stops. His brow furrows as he fights to find words, and Julio feels sorry for him because he looks so distressed at his lack of control. "I do not know why I did what they said to do. I did not think."
"It's all right," Julio assures him, "no harm done, amigo. ‘Sides, it's the least I can do – I didn't even get you a present."
"It is not really my birthday," Star says, teetering unsteadily on his legs and letting the door slam shut, leaning against it for strength, "I was never really born. I was created," Star whispers, lifting a hand to his face and pressing it there, "it is not the same thing."
"Yeah, it is," Julio's voice is soft when he says it, and he looks to the floor because he thinks Star's ashamed of it all and that hurts him in places he hasn't taken the time to discover yet, so he changes the subject. "You okay, amigo? Need water?"
"Yes," Star says but doesn't move, "I do not feel very well."
And he doesn't look very well either, Julio realises, and takes him by the wrist, pulling him away from the door. Julio knows what to do because Sam's a puker and no one else ever takes care of him but Julio. Wetting a paper towel, he holds it to Star's face as he urges Shatterstar to sit on the counter, whispering, "you feel sick, you tell me."
Shatterstar nods and looks up suddenly. "I am not sorry."
"What?"
Shatterstar leans closer, "for the sex shot, I am not sorry."
"Oh." Julio isn't quite sure what to say because, well, Star's drunk, and Julio's not quite sure how to deal with a drunk Star. It's new and strange and a little bit exciting. "Well, that's fine. I'm not really sorry you did it, either."
"Can we." Shatterstar stops and looks up, suddenly seeming very young when Julio's always thought of him being so much older, which is silly, because Star's the closest thing to a best friend that Julio has so it's never been a conscious thought until now. "I do not wish to stay here any longer."
"I'll make something up," Julio says, "get us both out of here. I'll meet you outside?"
Shatterstar nods, sliding off the filthy counter, and Julio turns away, walking back to the table and placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, whispering in his ear, "Star's not looking so great. I'm going to take him for a walk, work it out. We'll find our own way home."
"Yeah," Sam says, watching the girl in front of him, who looks a lot like Tabs, and Julio makes eye contact, just for a second, before turning back to Sam, seeing the difference between them.
Julio grabs both coats and slides his on his slender frame as he walks through the door, avoiding eye contact. The air outside is cold but clean, and Star's standing there, shivering. Draping the coat on the broad shoulders, Shatterstar smiles thankfully.
They walk for a couple blocks, find themselves in a park. Probably Central Park, Julio realises, but he doesn't really know. He might live in New York, but he never sees it, not how it's meant to be seen. Star sits down on a bench, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looks miserable.
"I think I am flawed," Shatterstar says suddenly, staring at the lamppost, and Julio looks at him quietly, not quite understanding what he means because Shatterstar is the most perfect person Julio's ever met. "I think, when they were creating me, they made me faulty."
"Why do you think that?" Julio asks, flipping up his collar to protect his ears from the bitter chill. It smells like snow; he can tell things like that because it never snowed when he was growing up and the air is different when it does. The snow wants to fall.
"I did not enjoy that," Shatterstar says, "and I think I should have."
Julio shrugs, no big deal. "I didn't enjoy it."
"Why not?" Shatterstar asks, and Julio looks up, wishing he was drunk because, though he's sure Star would be cool with everything, he's still not entirely cool with it himself, but Star suddenly seems very sober, like a light is on in a place that was once dark. "Julio."
Julio always feels warm when Shatterstar says his name. "Yeah?"
"Do you like men?" Shatterstar asks, leaning forward, silver eyes narrow, and Julio wonders, idly, if that actually helps Star think or if it's just for show. Julio doesn't say anything at first and isn't really surprised it's asked. After all, Star knows him better than most.
Julio thought it'd be a lot harder than this, that there'd be moment of panic somewhere in the whole deal, but it isn't present. He feels fine, calm and fine, so he shrugs, shivering in the cold, and says, muffled by his collar, "Yeah. Pretty much."
"Oh," Star says, squinting as he looks up, his face in the snow as it starts suddenly – big, puffy flakes, the type Julio likes the most because it looks so wonderful under light. "I like men, too. On my world," Star adds, quietly, "this was normal. It does not seem to be so here. And I am supposed to be a perfect replica of a normal human."
"It's normal," Julio replies, "just maybe not totally accepted." Julio thinks about what he said and nods to affirm he agrees with it because he didn't always think like that; he didn't always have so clear a head. "I'm not really surprised. About you."
"No? Samuel, and Roberto, and James would probably be somewhat surprised, and Teresa because she tried to kiss me once. And Feral, she tried to kiss me too," Star says, seeming very innocent and confused and shaky, and Julio thinks it's because he was never born, never had a family or friends or people. "Am I allowed to be like this, here, on earth? Will I still be normal if I am?"
"I hope so," Julio says, shuffling his feet over the ground, his toes curling tightly in his boots, and he taps his shoe very lightly with Shatterstar's black hikers. Looking up suddenly, Julio focusses on those strange silver eyes, seeing so much, "you're as normal as I am, Star. Don't worry about it. It's all the same."
Star drops his head and toes Julio's foot back, smiling slightly, when he never smiles, and Julio wonders if he's sober or still drunk, if he's thinking clearly or if he really wants to confess his soul like he is. "Are you cold?"
"Too cold to realise I'm cold," Julio says, with a smile and jumps slightly when Shatterstar tugs his hands out from under his arms and holds them between two very warm palms. Julio watches as their fingers mix, Shatterstar's hand soft and dry and not rough at all. "I love you," Julio says because it seems like the right time.
"I love you too," Shatterstar replies, giving Julio what warmth he can spare, and Julio studies the length of Star's arms, the width of his shoulders, the span of his neck, the arch of his jaw. Star's watching him, expression intense. "I have been meaning to tell you of my love for quite some time"
"Yeah?"
Shatterstar nods, grinning, and Julio thinks Star may still be a little bit drunk. "Yeah."
"Tell me again tomorrow," Julio says, "and the day after, then keep going until the love runs out," standing up and brushing the snow off his shoulders before Shatterstar pulls his hands away and does it for him, playing the role of lover, and Julio thinks that's just fine by him.