Boys Don't Play With Stars (boyxboy) (on hold)

Prologue

"Nico! Go get food, we're almost out," called a small brunette boy from inside a large plastic playhouse.

"But, Wes," whined a larger Hispanic boy who stood on a boulder near the playhouse, "I just got food, like, thirty minutes ago. How are we out?"

Wes gave a heaving, dramatic sigh. "We have a baby, stupid. Babies eat a lot." He was clearly exasperated with the other boy as he cradled a small bundle in his arms. Wrapped up in the blanket was a stuffed tiger. It served as a baby when the boys played 'space house'. The game is exactly what it sounds like:  playing house in space. They were apparently stranded on an alien planet and struggling to survive.

Nico, who was the husband in the game, scowled. "Babies don't eat that much, you liar. I bet you just ate it all and blamed it on the baby. You're a buttface!" Wes, his housewife, growled and chucked a plastic cup at Nico's head. It clocked him in the forehead and he stumbled. He seemed to hang for a moment before Wes cried out and he fell off the sizeable rock.

The dark-skinned boy's lip trembled, but he made no sound as he sat up. Blood trickled from a cut above his eye; he had fallen on the small, sharp rocks littered on the dirt. Wes, momentarily forgetting that the playhouse had a door, clambered through the window and landed with a small oof. He picked himself up and hurried over to his friend. 

"My head hurts," Nico whimpered. Wes kneeled next to him and tried wiping the blood off his face. It left a red smear on otherwise unblemished cinnamon skin.

"You're gonna be okay, Nico. Let's go inside. Your parents are gonna know what to do," said the brunette confidently. He was scared, though, as any little boy would be. Seeing your best friend bleeding is never easy. Placing a steadying hand on Nico's shoulder and gripping his forearm with the other, he helped the bigger boy up. Then he led the other into the house.

Nico's mother, a short woman in a yellow sundress, rounded the corner. "Boys, are you r- Nico!" Her question was forgotten as she rushed to her young son. "Mi bebé! What happened?" She kneeled in front of Nico, taking his face in her hands to inspect the cut. 

"He fell off that big rock in the backyard, Mama Margarita," Wes supplied before his pale face grew red. "I...threw a cup at him an' he just fell. I didn't mean for him to fall! I'm sorry!" His brown eyes shone with tears. "I'm sorry, Mama Margarita," he whimpered.

Margarita cut him off from more teary apologies by hugging both boys to her. "It's okay, niños. I'm not mad. Come on, let's get you fixed up."

----

That night, Nico and Wes laid in Nico's bed, looking up at the ceiling. Margarita had helped them stick up glow-in-the-dark stars a couple weeks ago. With the light off, they lit up the ceiling like the real night sky. 

Wes held Nico's hand under the covers. He looked over at the Hispanic boy with a smile. "Hey, Nico?"

His friend looked over with curious dark eyes. "Yeah?"

"We're gonna be friends forever, kay? We're gonna play space house until we get to actually go in space! It's gonna be so much fun." Wes' smile was wide as he asked.

Nico grinned back and squeezed the other's hand. "Heck yeah, we are! I don't wanna not be friends with you, Wes. You're my best friend." He wrapped his short arms around the brunette, holding them close together. Arms squeezed around him in return. They fell asleep like that, held in a childish embrace of promise.

----

Wes woke up alone. He was curled on his side and the blankets were half-thrown off the bed. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he sat up and looked sleepily around the room. "Nico?" he called groggily. No answer from his friend. The room was empty. 

He was snapped out of his groggy state by the sight of glow-in-the-dark stars strewn across the floor. A quick look at the ceiling told him that they were ripped off. Adhesive was still stuck to the ceiling in patches. What happened to the stars? he thought. We love the stars.

With cautious footsteps, Wes got out of bed and walked into the hallway. He wandered down the stairs to the kitchen where Margarita was leaning against the counter. She took a bite of the apple in her hands just as Wes appeared. Swallowing, she said kindly, "Buenos días, Wes. Nico's outside. You want something to eat before you go out there?"

"No thanks, Mama Margarita. I'm gonna go outside and play." He ignored the fact that he was only wearing pajamas and rushed out to the side yard where the playhouse was. 

Nico was sitting on the boulder forlornly. A small pile of glow-in-the-dark stars sat next to him. Wes, puzzled, came up to him and stood in front of him. "Nico? What are you doing? Why are the stars out here and not on the ceiling?" he asked with a worried note in his voice. This was all confusing.

Blazing dark eyes fixed on his. A million different emotions were in those amber flames. "Boys don't play with stars," he mumbled. It almost seemed like he was talking to himself.

"What?" Wes was even more confused. What the heck was going on with his best friend?

"Boys don't play with stars," Nico said, this time louder and angrier. He hopped off the rock and glared at the other boy. "They just don't, Wes. They don't sleep in the same bed, they don't play house, they don't have babies, they don't hold hands or hug or anything! It's weird and wrong. I'm tired of playing with you."

Wes was dumbfounded. How could he say that? They had always done that stuff and never thought twice about it. It wasn't wrong. It was what best friends did. Now Wes was getting angry. "Boys too do that stuff! I like doing that stuff! Why are you acting so weird? Come on, let's just play and forget about this. Maybe then you'll act normal."

"This is normal," the Hispanic boy sneered. "You're what's weird. I'm done playing house and all that stupid stuff. We are not friends anymore. I'm not friends with freaks!"

Tears were starting to well in the smaller boy's eyes. "But we're supposed to be best friends forever! We're gonna go into space and play with the stars and live on an alien planet, remember?" he pleaded. This had to be some kinda prank. Nico wouldn't do this, not his Nico.

"You wanna play with the stars so much? Here you go!" Nico grabbed the stars off the rock and began pelting Wes with them. He shrieked at the little plastic missiles that felt like they were stabbing him with their sharp points.

"Nico, stop it! That hurts!" When he didn't stop, Wes turned and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. Tears streamed down his face. Thank goodness his house was just down the road. Why had Nico done that? What was wrong with him? They were going to be together forever, or at least Wes thought they were. Now they weren't and he couldn't get why. He also didn't get why his chest hurt so bad; right where his heart was.

Unbeknownst to the crying boy, Nico was also crying. His tears were silent. Wes didn't understand why he had to do that. He hated it. But it had to be done. With a pain in his chest that he couldn't recognize, he bent and picked up one of the stars. It was the smallest one. He clutched it in his tiny fist and held it against his heart.

"Lo siento, Wes. Usted entenderá algún día," he whispered. "Boys just don't play with stars."