Birch and Lawrence **OLD**

That Special Night

The rest of the day dragged on for both boys. When night finally came, Lawrence made sure his mother was in a deep, alcohol-induced sleep, and Birch made sure his family was out cold as well. He rode Belle to the town, and Lawrence trekked silently but swiftly.

Birch arrived at town, snuggling up close to his mare to keep warm. Why can't the warm weather just hurry up? he thought irritatedly. Belle nuzzled him affectionately, and he leaned close to her. "At least you won't judge me for likin' boys, Belle," he whispered to the horse, roughly scratching her shoulders. Lawrence showed up a few minutes later, and upon seeing each other both boys suddenly became warm and happy. "Nice to see you, Birch," Lawrence said, his breath coming out in clouds in the cold air. Birch nodded toward him. "Nice to see you too," he said. He hesitated on asking a question, but decided to go with it. "Lawrence," he said quietly. "would you like to go for a ride with me?"

"I'd love to," Lawrence replied. He petted Belle's nose and mounted her. Birch climbed on in front of him and took the reigns. "Grab me around my waist," he said, and Lawrence did as he was told. With that, they galloped across town faster than ever. The wonderful feeling of each other's presence combined the crisp, cold wind made them feel alive and free. Lawrence squeezed his friend tightly, laughing joyously for the first time in what felt like decades. Birch felt the same way too, and gripped the horse's mane as she galloped faster and faster. They left the town and traveled into the woods, the air smelling so natural and clear, so wonderful and peaceful. They had a glorious time, a time neither of them could ever forget.

When they reached the wide, rolling plains far from the outside of town, they climbed off Belle. Birch tethered her to a tree and let her graze. Lawrence fell into his arms, flushed, laughing and giddy. Birch smiled, taking him by the hand and leading him to a soft patch of grass. They sat down, and Birch let Lawrence finish his laughing fit. He hadn't felt this wonderful in a very long time. When he calmed down, he wiped his sparkling, teary eyes and smiled at Birch. "Thank you," he said. "I had so much fun, and, just..." He started giggling again, and Birch felt all warm and wonderful inside. "Are you happy?" he asked when Lawrence settled back down.

"I sho' am!" he exclaimed, and Birch smiled.

 "Hey, uh, Birch," Lawrence whispered. He recieved his undivided attention.

"I think you're a really, really great boy," he said.

The warm-hearted compliment made Birch smile. "You're awfully great, too. And brave, really brave."

Lawrence was brave? "Really?"

Birch nodded. "And humble too. Not a lot of Negroes will be this friendly with white folk."

A strong, chilly breezed drafted by, making Lawrence shiver. "Are you cold?" Birch asked. Lawrence nodded, and he gently wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him close. Lawrence rested his head on Birch's shoulder, smelling his pine-scented soap. He smiled at the fragrance, thinking of his father, which brought a flashback into his mind.

Lawrence was seven again. Earlier that day, he was in a store where he saw a man screaming at his child for breaking an expensive vase. Now it was the middle of the night, and he had just had the most awful nightmare. He had been in the position of the guilty child, being yelled at and berated by his own father. He ran into Mr Addams' bedroom, crying and whining as he jumped onto his bed and shook him awake. "Papa!" he sobbed. "Papa, wake up!" Conroy Addams slowly came to, turning on the light beside the bed. Any other parent would've gotten angry and grumbled at the child to go back to bed, but Conroy wasn't any other parent. "What's the matter, honey?" he said. Lawrence sniffled. "I had a  bad dream, I broke something and you were yellin' at me and tellin' me really bad things, and.." He was getting more and more worked up as he talked about the dream. Mr Addams placed a hand on his son's head, gently stroking his hair and hushing. "It's okay, Lawrence," he said. "It was just a bad dream, it's all over now." He lifted up the knitted quilt. "Come lay down next to me." Lawrence got under the covers and snuggled up close to him, becoming enveloped by feelings of warmth and love as his arms were wrapped around him. He closed his eyes. "I'm always gonna love you, Lawrence," Mr Addams said softly. "I will scold you for doing wrong things, but it's only to show you that I care 'bout you." He hugged his son tight. "Everybody makes mistakes, even me," he said. "And that's okay. Nobody's perfect. And nobody has to be perfect, either." Lawrence looked up, and was kissed gently on the nose. "Besides, perfect is boring. Stand out, be yourself, and don't let anybody bring you down." Lawrence gave his father a kiss in return. "Okay papa." He snuggled back down and pulled the covers up to his chin. "I love you." Mr Addams smiled. "I love you too, honey." A few moments later, the man and his son fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Lawrence smiled at the flashback, letting it fade back into the past as he buried his face into Birch's shoulder. Birch gazed up at the stars in the crystal clear night, watching as smoky-looking clouds drifted by. "Hey Lawrence," he said quietly. Lawrence brought his face into sight, a warm smile on his face. Birch hesitated a moment, unsure if he should do what he was about to do, but did it anyways; He stamped a kiss onto Lawrence's forehead. Lawrence was surprised at first by Birch's sudden act of affection, all blushy and embarrassed, but he laughed and gave Birch a kiss, too. They gazed at each other for a few minutes, smiling and blushing, their bellies full of butterflies. "You're so handsome," Lawrence said softly. "I wish I could look like you."

 Birch's expression became hard. "Don't you dare say that!" he scolded. "Believe me, you're fine the way you are. It doesn't matter if you're black, white, Chinese, Muslim, whatever you are, you are perfectly fine." Lawrence suddenly felt strange and rather emotional as Birch tilted his chin upward and gazed solemnly into his eyes. "Don't ever change, Lawrence," he whispered. "If someone don't like you 'cause you're black, then that's their bad luck. 'Cause you are a wonderful, brave, intelligent black person." He caressed Lawrence's cheeks. "And that's one of the things that I love about you."

Birch slowly brought his face closer to Lawrence's. Closer and closer, until their noses touched, where he paused for a few moments. Lawrence's heart raced, feeling as if it would burst through his chest. And, with fluttering eyelashes, Birch tenderly pressed his lips against his. He wanted to kiss him so badly, and once he started he didn't want to stop. Lawrence went along with it at first, too stunned to do anything, but then his eyes began to close and he slid his arms around Birch's waist. The kiss continued on for endless moments, and eventually their lips parted and their tongues mingled and wrestled. When the kiss ended, Birch took a second to gaze at Lawrence's face, and felt something wonderful, something he'd never felt before. He smiled and laughed a little, and Lawrence did the same. The night was 58 degrees Farenheit, but they felt warmer than the hottest summer day in Mississippi.

"Birch," Lawrence whispered, his voice husky and romantic. "thank you. You're so wonderful and kind and warm...."

"So are you, Lawrence," Birch replied, a smile across his lips. "so are you."

With that, they wrapped themselves in each other's arms and shared another passionate kiss.