To See Your Day

They meet through a mutual friend. Kingston is jealous of how free and energetic 

Brently is. Brently is curious about the withdrawn artist in the corner of the 

room, sipping a soda. Kingston watches as Brently flits around the room, 

friendly to those he does and doesn't know, a blur of bright, drunken colors. 

Brently watches as a taller guy with shorter hair and a lopsided smile plants a 

sloppy, wet kiss on Kingston's mouth, hand looping seemingly painfully around 

the short boy's wrist. Brently wants to wipe away the nervous yet guarded 

expression on Kingston's face. They both know the other is watching and they 

both keep an eye on Jordan, Kingston's boyfriend. 

By the end of the night, sun creeping over the Chicago skyline, Brently has 

kissed away the nervous expression and fearful eyes. They don't know each other, 

but Brently presses feather light kisses to Kingston's neck and collar bone and 

feels closer to him than any other being on the planet. Fingers threaded with 

the tiny, tattooed boy's, Brently rests his head on Kingston's chest, counts his 

heartbeats. He would match their heartbeats if he could, he settles for 

breathing in as Kingston breathes in, exhaling when he does. 

Artist's calloused fingertips tracing designs on Brently's back, Kingston feels 

his eyes flutter shut. "Are you scared of death?"

Brently's breath only catches for a moment before he resumes breathing, pressing 

a wet, open mouthed kiss to Kingston's neck and twisting a lock of the older 

boy's dark hair in his fingers. It feels gentle, soothing. 

"I'm scared of a lot of things. Life is more treacherous."

Kingston laughs softly, not expecting Brently to return the question. He does. 

Kingston doesn't have to think. "No," he says. "I'm not afraid of the dark."

Brently thinks he's found someone who understands. 

 ****

Brently smiles as Kingston passes him a beer and feels the sun become a little 

warmer, the day a little brighter as Kingston smiles back, his usual mask 

forgotten. Brently is only nineteen and Kingston is twenty-two, yet he's the one 

drinking a beer as Kingston sips at a sprite. Brently wonders if Kingston has a 

problem with drinking, or if he just doesn't like the taste. They've known each 

other two months, but he's never thought to ask. 

Later, Kingston tenses up as they hear the doorknob being unlocked and shoves 

Brently away from him, their lips parting regretfully. Brently hides his own red 

mouth behind his beer can and Kingston bites down on his lower lip. Jordan snaps 

at Kingston when Kingston asks how work was and Brently doesn't say anything, 

fingertips brushing Kingston's behind a couch cushion. He thinks about how 

Kingston doesn't mind the taste of alcohol, as long as it's on Brently's lips 

and tongue. 

 ****

Kingston rubs at his eyes as they lay on Brently's bed in his dorm room. The 

sheets are pooled around their waists, sticking to sweaty skin. Kingston hasn't 

smiled in days, bruises appearing and disappearing on skin that Brently's 

claimed as his own, sweet kisses pressed against Kingston's spine. 

"Hey, sunshine, smile for me." Brently teases, more seriousness disguised in the 

playfulness of his tone than one would expect. Kingston doesn't reply and 

Brently sighs, lips near his lover's ear. "You're so beautiful."

"Can't we just sleep the light away?" Kingston asks Brently's quiet snores. 

 ****

Brently blows out smoke, handing the cigarette to Kingston, who takes a drag. 

"What do you want to remember when you're old and gray?"

Kingston doesn't look up from his sketch, charcoal smudged on his fingers, the 

paper, the white sheets. Good, Kingston thinks, everything needs to be a little 

grayer. 

"I have no memories that will stay."

 ****

"Don't hide from me," Brently pleads, glad for once that Kingston isn't facing 

him. Tears aren't becoming of anyone. "I want to see you again, sunshine."

Kingston rolls over, thumb brushing Brently's trembling lower lip. "You've never 

seen me, how can I hide?"

Brently slides his fingers through Kingston's soft black hair, meets guarded 

brown eyes with his own open and warm ones. He ignores the bruises on Kingston's 

ribs, the black eye that's just going away, ignores the angry red cuts on his 

arms and wrists. "I love you."

Kingston shuts his eyes, wishing Brently would take it back. It just makes 

things harder. "You're just a dream. I don't even have sunny days, 'sunshine'"

Brently sniffles, leans closer, lips brushing Kingston's ear. "When you wake up, 

find me."