Puzzle Pieces (Sonny/Graffiti Pete) In The Heights

Chapter 2: 96,000

So, for those reading, thank you. Sorry I'm publishing so late, lol.

Nina is back in town, and the neighborhood is buzzing with praise and excitement. Sonny isn't an exception.

Nina's bright smile and shy strength is something he's missed a lot, and her eyes sparkle just as he remembered. He hasn't had a just them moment since a few years ago when she was his sitter.

Sometimes he feels like she still thinks of him as a little kid, asking whether it's his bedtime yet. He's sixteen, thank you, and closer to his seventeenth birthday than his last one.

Graffiti Pete lounges nearby, his backpack slung over one shoulder as he runs his fingers absentmindedly over the cans and winces over Sonny's indignation at Nina's patronizing tone.

He is grown up, and Pete treasures his remaining boyishness from a distance. Two years apart is the least of the distance between them, especially since Pete just turned 18 and Sonny is nearly 17. Plus, Sonny is more mature than 16 calls for and Pete is still feeling like a cumbersome kid.

No, the distance is more of the fact that they kind of live in different circles. It isn't an unbreachable distance, but Pete has his own worries anyway. No need to stress over a cute guy when he should stress over his lack of paint.

Which is why he's here: to wait until they leave the damn bodega for a minute. He isn't sure what it will be yet; things always cleared up later when he just let loose and something formed. It was a wonderful feeling not to be tied down by a specific end product. He needs to finish it though. He feels the urge to, as if it's an empty puzzle-piece outline, a space that needs to be filled.

When Sonny sulks back inside it's like the light has gone out.

He's so alive. And Pete envy's that feeling, because he only glimpses life that rich when he's painting.

God. He needs more paint.

Sonny flicks the fridge light, and it lights up. Why didn't he feel like he wanted Nina, not the way he used to? He still liked her but... not nearly as much. Last time he checked, she was part of his puzzle. But maybe her piece changed shape.

And when he trots his way home and flops onto the couch for a midday nap because it's too hot for anything else, his dreams aren't of streaming waves of hair. They're of short, tight coils, cut so close to the head they're barely there. And instead of creamy smooth skin of skim milk, it's rich chocolate tones rippling with muscles.

He's up. He did not just take a mid-morning nap and he did not just dream about holding hands with Graffiti Pete, who's probably got a million ex-girlfriends.

"Ninety-six thousand." Usnavi tells him in wonder as he jumps back into the bodega.

Sonny speaks with Benny, "Damn!"

"Dollars? Holla!"

Benny steps up behind them and Usnavi repeats the information with more emphasis. "Ninety-six thousand!"

"Yo, somebody won!"

Pete marvels at the idea of so much money. "That's a lot of spray cans!" he exclaims to himself.

Sonny meets his eyes with a grin, his eyes flick in the direction of the grate, and Pete's cheeks warm. Sonny seems to like his work, if the glow in his eyes means anything.

Sonny hopes he isn't blushing, the images from his dream still fresh in his mind. His fingers climbing Pete's arms. Pete's strong arms locked around him protectively.

Usnavi quickly breaks the spell. "I'll give you three seconds before I call the police. 9... 1..."

Pete quickly bolts out of the bodega before Usnavi can finish.Does Usnavi really have to assume? Pete doesn't do anything illegal. Well, except for his art, but it shouldn't be illegal. He knows about the black man stereotype. His mother picks them up and uses them, throwing them away when she's done like Pete goes through spray cans.

When the police assumed, it got Pete's father killed. Pete figures Usnavi must just not like Pete, which hurts because it seems no one does. Pete's the puzzle piece that doesn't fit.

What about Sonny? Sonny's warm smile floats back into Pete's mind and he almost smiles. Pete wishes. But Sonny worships Usnavi, and Usnavi hates Pete. So.

Sonny watches Pete's lithe form lounging outside. When he ran, it was so smooth. Strong. He can't imagine Nina ever running like that.

He follows Benny and Usnavi outside as Benny pictures what he would do with ninety-six thousand dollars.

"I got more hoes than a phonebook in Tokyo!"

Well, okay. Not gay then. Sonny bites his lip and looks down, not that anyone notices. Sometimes pieces look like they fit, but they don't.

Pete notices. Sonny's biting his lip and it's kind of alluring until Sonny ducks his head... shyly? Pete didn't know Sonny could ever be shy, but it's pretty damn cute.

Usnavi glares. "Shut up, go home, and pull your damn pants up!" If only he could. If only he had a real home, if only shutting up was all he needed to do- but it wasn't.

Graffiti Pete's rare smile is replaced by one of melancholy and the day feels just a little colder as Sonny watches Pete's expression flicker. Pete always looks able and active, but not... happy. Eager. Alive.

Sonny wants to see him light up.

Pete smiles just a little bit as Sonny passionately talks about using the money to improve the ghetto. He lights up inside like he's swallowed the sun, and his conviction feels as alive as if it was a real being. Sonny loves his community, something Pete wishes he could relate to. But how can he love something that continues to shut him out?

"You are so cute!" Sonny grins at Usnavi as Vanessa plants a playful kiss on his forehead, catching the jealousy that slips through Usnavi's eyes, just for a minute.

Usnavi did promise he's never forgotten that Sonny's been there.

Sonny begs to differ, but he hopes it's a resolution. God only knows if Usnavi will keep it.

If you can't tell, I'm trying to do the both-character's-thoughts thing. I'm failing really, really badly, so if you have any advice on how to write like this, I will love you forever.

             -Yeah. Ok. Still.