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Race could feel Spot's heartbeat, felt it in his chest like it was own.
The night was clear and they were wrapped in each other, alone on the roof of their apartment, comfortably silent and still. Race felt like he could stay like this forever, back pressed against Spot's chest, with arms wrapped protectively around his middle, keeping him warm and safe. The sounds of the city surrounded them in familiarity, a constant reminder that they were just a small part of something much bigger.
Shifting slightly, Race felt a hand start playing with his hair absentmindedly, habitually almost. He leaned into the touch, sighing contentedly and closing his eyes, prompting a small chuckle from the man above him.
"You're like a dog, you know that?" he said, scratching at Race's scalp a bit to emphasize his point, only causing him to lean in even more.
"You're the one named Spot," Race murmured, letting out a soft whine when Spot stopped, turning his head to look up and immediately being caught up in a kiss. He held it, moving his lips slowly, softly. Kissing Spot was nothing like Race had ever expected, he wasn't rough or overly dominant, always starting slow and letting Race lead the way. Eyelashes grazed his face, feather light and softer than should have been possible on a guy.
Pulling back, Race remained close enough that he could count all the freckles on Spot's face, smiling and resting his forehead against Spot's. "I love you, you know that right?" he asked, feeling shy all the sudden, casting his eyes down and gripping Spot's hands tightly.
"I know," Spot said, kissing his forehead lightly before detaching his hands from Race's, tilting his chin up so they were looking at each other, "You never have to ask."
Race bit his lip, nodding trying to make sure that every detail of Spot's eyes were etched into his mind, he never wanted to forget them. The moonlight illuminated them enough that Race could see the different shades of brown mix and swirl together, darker at the edges and lighter at the center. If he let his own eyes become unfocused for a second he could see the few visible stars reflected in his pupils.
"Good," he breathed, letting himself fall back onto Spot's chest, eyes drifting upward. It was a full moon, half of the reason they came up here in the first place, and you could see a few more stars than usual if you squinted. "Which one's ours?" he asked.
"Which what?"
"Star."
Spot moved a bit, hugging Race to him tighter, and even though he couldn't see him he knew Spot was looking up, searching.
"What about that one?" he asked, pointing at one a little ways below the big dipper.
"I like it, it looks brighter than the other ones," Race said, tilting his head.
"That's why I picked it, it reminds me of you," Spot said, leaning his head so that it laid against Race's.
Feeling warmth spread through his body, Race smiled, a few months ago Spot wouldn't have been caught dead saying something like that, something romantic and real. When they'd first gotten together, Spot was all rushed words and kisses and thoughts, not allowing himself to slow down enough to feel anything real, anything good. It took Race a while to figure out why Spot always looked like he his himself behind a wall, keeping himself locked in, the whole world on the other side just waiting for him.
But that was then, now they were sitting on the rooftop of the apartment they had together, wrapped in each other's minds and bodies.
"Tutte le stelle che do a voi il mio amore," he said, pulling Spot's hands up and kissing them lightly, one on each knuckle.
"What's that mean?" Spot asked.
"It means, 'All the stars I give to you, my love'," Race said softly, feeling Spot move out from behind him. They sat face to face no, hands still clasped between them.
"How do you say, 'Nothing compares to you,' in Italian?" he asked, laying back and pulling Race down with him, letting knees hold him in place and hands tangle in his hair.
"Niente è paragonabile a voi," Race whispered, leaning down and kissing Spot deeply, pulling back after a moment and trailing kisses down his jaw, onto his neck, collarbone. A slightly moan could be heard from the man below him, whose hands wrapped loosely around his neck now, begging him to continue.
"Yeah, that," Spot said, pushing at Race's face slightly, bringing his lips back toward his, letting the moonlight cast soft shadows on both of them as the sounds of Brooklyn surrounded them in familiarity.