If you've read my other stories, I think you all know that I love writing a sunset chapter where there's a fluffy moment down at the Brooklyn docks at sunset. You might hate me for it, but I'm gonna write this anyway. None of my sunset chapters are even the same anyway.
Enjoy! :)
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Race has had a great day so far. Almost right after they got out of the carriage, they met up with other newsies to play cards with. He prides himself on how many of the games he won.
After it was all over, Race and Spot went down to the Brooklyn docks, feet dangling over the edge, looking out at the sunset.
Race loves summer sunsets.
To him, summer sunsets look like rainbows. When the sun is at it's lowest, that is. That's when the horizon line is red, and you look up a little and then there's a tint of orange, as well as some yellow, and there's the tiniest hue of green in between the yellow and the great stretch of blue, and above the blue is a deep indigo, or purple, which keeps going up and up and up. Race loves it. It's one of the best masterpieces that he can ask for.
Well, it needs to get later for the sun to be that low. Right now it's in the position where it's past mid afternoon, but still an hour or so away from being dinner time.
Not that he can always see the full spectrum deep in the city away from the water, though.
And so, he's grateful that Spot brought him here.
For now, they sit in comfortable silence.
"I had a lot of fun today, Race," Spot says.
"Yeah, me too," Race agrees.
"How old were you when you first played cards?" Spot asks curiously.
"...twelve," Race admits.
Spot laughs. "That explains it."
"Well, what about you?" Race shoots back defensively. "You had a calculated cunningness that don't come with beginners."
"Yeah, that's true," Spot chuckles. "I was thirteen when I first got into playing cards."
"And now you're fifteen and an expert."
"Nearly sixteen."
Just like Race.
"The only difference between you and me and cards, Race, is that I didn't choose to have my life revolve around cards."
"Hey!" Race shoots back defensively.
"You know I'm right."
He sighs.
Inside, Race is glowing. He loves the playful back and forth banter that they have. How easily it comes. It's fun. And he likes that it's fun to talk to Spot.
They talk longer. They talk as the sunset goes through its phases of sunset colors, until finally, to Race's satisfaction, it's where it's a rainbow of colors.
But that also means that it's getting closer to night.
"It's getting late," Spot mentions, confirming Race's worries. "If you want, you can stay the night in Brooklyn."
Yes, Race's mind automatically decides. When he opens his mouth and takes a breath to respond, he feels a fresh throbbing pain in his chest.
YOU ARE READING
The Wonderful Queer Story of Racetrack Higgins
FanfictionRacetrack Higgins is many things: a newsie, a gambler, witty, and smart. And he also wasn't born a boy. He can count the number of people who know that fun fact on one hand. It's a struggle to live as a boy while trying to make sure no one knows whe...