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Pete spent all his life running. He ran from school when it became obvious that the teachers already thought he was useless. He ran from fights he knew he couldn’t win. He ran from his shitty family situation. He ran from the cops that didn’t appreciate his art. He ran. But this time he wasn’t running away from anything. He was running towards something. Or rather, someone.
His best friend was out there, probably alone and scared. He had slipped into the apartment he shared with his older cousin, but he hadn’t been there. That in itself wasn’t a good sign. There was only one other place he could be. And that is where Pete was running.
The blackout had hit just 30 minutes before. Pete was fine with the darkness, finding it oddly calming, but Sonny, his Sonny, who was usually so fearless and smart, always did the dumbest shit in the dark. His Sonny who only wanted to help the community. His Sonny that had made sure that he had a place to stay and food. His Sonny that was the smartest person he knew, had horrible anxiety when it came to two things: abandonment and the dark. He completely shut down. He had explained to Pete that it made him feel powerless. Pete refused to let him feel that way alone. And seeing as Pete had seen Usnavi up about two blocks looking for Vanessa, Sonny was probably alone in the bodega.
Pete was flooded with relief when he slipped in a hidden door around back and saw Sonny curled up against the front windows of the bodega. It was hard to shove down any of the more intense feelings he felt for Sonny when he was looking at him like he was so glad to see him. He reminded himself that Sonny was in love with Nina and had been for like their whole lives. So what if sometimes when Sonny was talking really passionately, Pete caught him furtively glancing at his lips as if maybe he wanted Pete to kiss him? So what if some nights he asked Pete to sneak in and hold him until he fell asleep? Sonny had always been Pete’s only friend so he was sure those were just things that happened with your best friend.
“There you are. Why are you not at the apartment, man?” Pete asked incredulously as he went over and crouched near his dearest friend.
“The lights went off, and I panicked. Everyone in the community is screamin’. I tried to find Usnavi because I knew he’d know how to lock the store down and keep it safe, but he was out tonight. I didn’t know what else to do. So I ran. And I ended up here.” Sonny looked scared but then seemed to shake it off when he remembered that Pete was there.
Pete pulled Sonny to his feet. “Everyone is just tryna’ get home. Which is where you should be. The streets are gonna get scary very soon. They doin’ bottles in the street: people lootin’ and shootin’. Sonny, they wanna see a robbery. We gotta get movin’.”
“Nah, man, I can’t leave! We gotta guard the store!” There was the passion that Pete had fallen for, but it was hidden behind and intertwined with fear. Sonny’s anxiety was out in full force.
Pete tried to reason with him, “Yo, they gonna bombard the store until you ain’t got a store no more. Please let me get you outta here.”
It fell on selectively deaf ears as Sonny just pressed on with how he was apparently going to single handedly defend the store. Well, no, not single-handedly. Pete wouldn’t leave his side until he knew he was safe. “I got a baseball bat on a rack in the back!”
“You don’t even know how to swing a fuckin’ bat. I gotta couple of Roman Candles, we can distract the vandals. But you’re gonna take the candles, hand me the bat, and do just what I say or I swear I’ll kick your ass and drag ya home.” The threat fell softly because Sonny was giving him those goddamn eyes again that he couldn’t say no to. Whatever, he’d been in stupider fights than this. He could take on an army of thugs if it meant Sonny was safe and happy.
Sonny passed the bat over to Pete with quite a bit of grumbling. “Listen, a few Roman Candles aren’t going to get you in that much trouble. Deckin’ someone with a bat is definitely trouble. Trouble can keep you from ever getting’ out of the barrio, and you are goin’ places, man. I already have a record, and I will use that record to keep yours clean.”
Sonny looked at him like he was touched or some gay shit but before he could say whatever was on the tip of his tongue, his eyes got huge and he pointed down towards the end of the street. “Aye, yo, I see some thugs comin’. Man, we’re gonna get jacked up!” The fear was back in triplicate. Pete was relieved that he had taken the bat.
“Wait till they get closer. If they so much as blink wrong, give me a light.” Before he could even finish explaining, the thugs were approaching the bodega with blunt objects of their own. They didn’t look any older than him. Pete thanked whoever was out there listening that they weren’t real thugs. These guys could probably just be scared away with a little skirmish and some yelling. “I’ll be right back. Back up!”
Pete came out the door yelling. When the two intruders looked like they might think about taking on Pete, he swung the bat as hard as he could into the nearest one’s kneecaps. He went down hard, his screams covered up by the fireworks that were going off right above their heads all of the sudden. “Take your friend home and ice down his knees. I didn’t break them but he’s gonna have a fierce bruise and trouble walking.” The other guy looked at Pete like he was crazy, “Look, I’m not tryna’ hurt anyone permanently when you’re just doin’ what you can to survive. The owner of this bodega struggles just as much as we do though, so spread the word that the more people attack it the more I will hurt them. Now get outta here before I change my mind and actually kick your ass.”
They scrambled off into the dark. He turned around to walk back inside and was surprised by Sonny standing directly behind him. “Dude, you are aware that you just startled the shit outta a man holding a bat? Yo, are you crazy?” Sonny was just smirking at him. It didn’t make his stomach flutter. Whatever.
“Maybe if you’d talk about him in that tone of voice to his face, Usnavi wouldn’t think you were so much of a punk,” he poked him in the nose to make his point. Pete had the fleeting thought that Sonny should just be glad he was cute or he would have lost that finger a long time ago, but before he could say as much, Sonny had taken his hand and pulling him back into the store.
They sat on the floor of the bodega where they could see the fireworks and the street. They talked a little, but it was mostly spent in a comfortable silence until someone approached the door. Some people were just trying to get home and couldn’t find their way in the dark. There were one or two other groups that got their knees knocked by Pete, but it was really not as bad as anyone had expected.
In the early hours of the morning, Sonny broke the silence. “Yo, thanks for helping me feel less powerless.” His hand caressed the side of Pete’s face. If it had been anyone else, he would have thought Sonny was trying to flirt with him.
“Uh, yeah man. It ain’t a problem. No need to get all emotional.” Pete pulled away from Sonny’s hand but knocked their knees together conspiratorially.
Sonny moved from where he was sitting so that his knees were intertwined with Pete’s and they were facing each other. “Nah, dude, I’m serious. How many other people are out there lookin’ for me or are willing to come defend a place that consistently runs them off? You’re good people Pete.”
Pete tried to cover his blush by turning his face away and making a joke. “Sonny, you’re on some gay shit, I swear.”
Sonny also looked away. After a beat of silence, he muttered, “Maybe I am. Too bad you’re not too.”
Pete’s head snapped forward. “Sonny, are you kidding? Man, you can’t just say that and then not explain.”
Sonny locked eyes with him and said the stupidest shit Pete had ever heard him say. “You can’t see you like I do. You paint with such passion and your art is there to make a statement not just fuckin’ paint on a wall. Even Abuela Claudia appreciates what it brings to the barrio. You have lived a hard life, but you can still send some punks home with compassion. And don’t give me that ‘I’m a thug and we stick together’ shit. You’ve done that for everyone I have seen you meet. You’ve always taken care of me and listened to my ideas and stupid schemes to make the block better. I have learned so much from you about what hardship can do to a person and the strength it takes to push past that. And somewhere along the line, yeah, I might have figured out that I am on some gay shit for you.”
Pete stopped him right there. He finally matched Sonny’s light touches to his face and he leaned in and kissed him. It was with purpose and with every feeling he could manage to pack into it. Sonny’s lips were rough from biting them when he was nervous, but to Pete they were perfect. He wanted to make sure that Sonny knew that he felt the same, that he didn’t know how to say it, that he never wanted to stop feeling this way, so he kissed him until they were both breathless. That seemed to get the point across just fine.
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Somewhere in the early hours of the morning, the two of them had fallen asleep curled up together. They had woken with a start when the front door jangled. “Yo, Sonny, are you in here?” Usnavi’s voice rang out from out front.
Sonny had never seen Pete move so fast. He was on his feet and to the door before Sonny could ask him to stay and take credit for defending the shop. Before he ducked out, Pete scrambled back over and kissed Sonny one more time, like he didn’t believe it was something he’d be allowed to do after he left the bodega. Then with a quick wink, he was out the back as Usnavi came in through the store. “There you are. Are you insane? The store could have been looted and you could have gotten mugged. It’s a miracle you’re ok.”
Sonny was still looking at the back door where Pete had slipped out. “Miracle is one word for him,” he muttered as Usnavi went on about Abuela and the lottery.