"Elevator, elevator."

Ambrose was singing to try to get over his claustrophobia.

"Elevator, elevator. This elevator is big as a hall, big as an aircraft carrier."

I stared at his closed eyes, his trembling body. I held his hand and joined in on his singing.

"This is not an elevator at all, it's a grand hall, an aircraft carrier."

But it wasn't true. We were in what had to be the smallest elevator in the world: the elevator of the Empire State Building. People must have been smaller when they built it or something. The people jammed around us weren't looking at each other, except for the tourists who were looking everywhere. I coughed and people tried to get away but they couldn't. They looked at me like I had a disease. In reality, I was trying to get over the flu, but they didn't have to know that.

Why were we in the elevator of the Empire State Building on a cold December day? Simple. It was Ambrose's birthday, and this was a tradition of ours. Though terrified of small spaces, Ambrose adored heights and this was the perfect way for him to be very high up, the perfect present. He said it made him feel like he was flying, like he was free.

"Almost there," I assured him.

"Almost there, almost there," he sang in repeat of me. His trembling seemed to increase so I increased my grip on his hand.

Ding!

The doors opened and around us people flooded out of the elevator like refugees. A few had terrified faces like Ambrose. I pulled Ambrose out of the elevator and on to the observation deck like a blind person and when he opened his hazel eyes they blinked a few times in the Winter sunlight.

Already our hair was whipping about in the high up wind, and he started to smile in a knowing way. "This is what the wind feels like when you're flying," he said, the same thing he said every year it seemed.

"Look what I have," I grinned, so proud, holding up two corn dogs by their sticks. His face brightened ever more. Ambrose loved corn dogs, especially from street vendors.

"So that's what that smell was! Where did you hide them?" he reached out for one and immediately stuck it in his mouth, biting off a big chunk. I handed him a mustard packet and he eagerly took it.

"In my coat," I beamed, so happy to see him happy.

"A likely place," he said, squirting half of the mustard packet on the ground and then aiming it at his corn dog. Someone immediately stepped in the mustard mess on the ground but they didn't notice. It was crowded for such a freezing day.

I took a bite of my corn dog and he took my other hand and we started to walk around the deck like children.

"You got any pennies?" he asked, leaning towards the protective diamond shaped barriers and peering down. "Look at all of those pennies on the suicide catchers. I bet they make a lot of money with those pennies."

"Are you sure they ever collect them? There's so many," I said, looking where he was looking.

"Hmm, I don't know," he smiled, thinking joyfully.

Pretty soon we had two empty sticks from our corn dogs and not really any place to put them. "Oh, there's a trash can," I pointed with my stick. The trash can was far away.

"Look out below!"

My head snapped towards Ambrose as he flicked his stick through the diamond barrier towards the street. "Ambrose!" I scolded. He was grinning towards the direction of the street and my heart blipped in a squeeze. I sighed and just smiled with him.

"I wonder if it hit anyone," he snickered. "May I?" The tips of his fingers rested on my empty stick and I sighed again, still smiling.

"Si, Ambrose," I laughed. As he took it, my giggles increased. "You know it's illegal to throw shit off of the Empire State Building?"

"But it's my birthday," he laughed with me, throwing the stick. I quickly rushed to the edge, trying to look for it. "Did it hit somebody?" he asked eagerly, looking through the barrier with me, pressed to me.

"No, I don't think so," I lied, unsure myself.

"That's too bad. I would have liked to have seen that guy," Ambrose beamed, "I bet he would have been like, 'oh 'ey, who touched me'. Haha, you know?"

"Haha, yeah," I giggled.

Silence followed this as we observed below, looking at the rushing cars that looked like Matchbox figures. "How weird would it be to see a Hess truck? It would be like my toy collection when I was little," Ambrose said suddenly, exactly on track with my thinking. It warmed my heart, knowing we were thinking the same thing.

"I remember your Hess truck," I recalled out of the blue.

He looked at me quickly with his lips parted a little. My heart gasped in on itself at this and I quieted it. I gave a little smile to him and he smiled at me. "What else do you remember?" he asked gently.

"Hmm," I thought aloud, putting my finger over my lips. Then I remembered something very special. "I remember that Matchbox car you had that looked like Miss Cha Cha's car!"

Ambrose gasped, "that one! I had completely forgot about it! The little pink Barbie car!"

I sighed, thinking more. "I remember how we used to play with that one, pretending we were in Hollywood. You remember, Rodeo Drive? All that?"

"Yeah, with the Prada purses and stuff! Dios mio, Ruiz, how could I forget?!"

I put my head down, resting my chin on my hand in the happy memories.

"You remember...how my father took away that car?" Ambrose paused. I looked at him in wonder. His eyes looked lighter in the direct sunlight, like fresh, sweet caramel candies. They looked sad. I squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back, causing my heart to pinch.

"No wonder I don't remember that little pink car," he said quietly. He paused again, then started. "But now I remember how he came into my room and saw it on my rug. He picked it up and he said, 'who gave you this pink car? Who gave you this homo car?' Then he looked at me like...like I don't even know." His voice had gone almost mute when he said what his father had told him, to imply yelling.

I recalled his father now. That angry, unforgiving man. Guilt started to rush through my veins for causing him to think about his father, especially today, on his birthday.

"He took it away and I never saw it again. I'm pretty sure he threw it away. I also remember how you kept asking me about that car because you wanted to play with it. I said I lost it and you started crying. I never told you, Ruiz, but I felt so bad about it. I felt so bad..." Ambrose sighed deeply and looked down the observation deck at all the happy people milling around.

"It's okay, Ambrose," I told him firmly, taking his hand in both of my hands. "Its not your fault. We were kids. I understand now, and that's what matters."

He gave me a reassuring smirk. "But now we have that Barbie car back," he said, piling his other hand on our hands together. "We drive it all the time."

I smiled back at him. "Yeah, we do." I had a thought, thinking it might be helpful to him. "And...you don't ever have to see your father again."

He looked a little surprised by this addition, but then he gave me a warm expression. He swung our hands back and forth between us like a pleased dog's tail. "That's true. I never have to see that man again. I think that's a great present three hundred and sixty five days of the year."

His eyes became very bright as the sun passed by between the clouds, and I couldn't help but see how beautiful he looked in the sunlight at that moment. The bangs of his shortish, shiny black hair were whipping as the wind picked up, his plump lips looked carnation pink even without lipstick. His skin was a perfect shade of coffee au lait. Finally, his eyes looked like a solar mix of greens and golds in the intense sunshine.

"What?" he giggled, raising his hand and mussing up the front of my curly hair, which had been in a smart low ponytail but now was ruined. I didn't mind at all.

"Nothing," I said, looking down at our hands then back at him.

"Yeah?" he gazed at me sideways.

"Yeah," I repeated tightly, then aimed my head quickly at the diamond barrier, coughing. Our hands unclapsed and I coughed pitifully into the elbow of my puffy white coat. When I finished, I found the comforting weight of Ambrose's hand between my shoulder blades. Something inside of me melted.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to breathe away the feeling.

"You feel okay? Should we go down? We could go somewhere warmer. This cold's not good for you, being sick," I heard him say quickly, his hand rubbing my back vigorously to give me warmth. The heat it generated seeped through my coat and into my core. His heat. My heart started to bubble.

"No," I squeaked, still feeling the tickle of the cough in my throat. "It's your birthday. We do this every year. We're not going down until you want to go down."

"Yeah, but you're sick," he said, looking unsure.

I peered over the edge, suddenly feeling very shy towards him. My heart felt very shy. "I'll be fine," I assured him. He was being so kind.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. Then my heart erupted as his warmth spread all over me, taking me in a tight hug. "Okay, then I'll warm you if we can't go to a warm place," he said very close to my ear, his hot feeling breath encasing my ear and going down my neck like a slipping soft kitten.

My entire body shivered in his hot breath, going to ecstasy.

No, I can't, my brain whipped like the wind, stop it. We have an agreement.

His hands started to rub up and down my back, trying to give me all of his body heat.

Yeah, but, we were very young. We're older now. We're twenty one, another part of me whispered desperately. He squeezed me tighter, nuzzling the bottom of his face into my forehead to make me warm all over.

Kiss me, my heart begged, starting to cry by itself, kiss me please. Your lips are so close. They're on my forehead.

No, Ruiz, my brain warned.

"Warm enough?" his hot breath asked me, seeming to burn up the little hairs on my hairline, making me tremble just slightly in his grip, causing a shiver to go down my spine which he could not feel.

"...No," I whispered with my heart.

"No?" he asked gently. He started to rub my back again, all over.

No.

I eased into him, relaxing. His hands stopped, settling at my mid-back, relaxing, too. He hugged me against the dark, sand colored stone of the observation deck, in front of everybody, not caring that we looked like two men hugging. He didn't give a damn like always, just loving me because we were best friends, wanting to make sure I was okay.

And why did he treat me this way? I never saw any other best friends treating each other this way.

My throat tightened and my lips parted. He felt my chin move on his shoulder, and he eased apart a little bit to see my face. Seeing his face so close made my heart close, the feelings threatening to overflow like a volcano, hot and melting and intense.

"Ambrose, I..." I started quietly, my heart pinching me in my chest, making me dizzy.

"Hmm?" he asked, smiling to me lovingly.

I stared into his eyes, the greens and golds darker now, but ever present. His pupils were focused on me, his entire attention on me and unwavering. I sighed out and his arms tightened around me.

I love you, Ambrose.

"It's nothing," I smiled back at him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Well...maybe..."

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to go to Burger King or something? I'll buy you some lunch. One corn dog is not enough," I covered quickly.

He beamed at me and my heart sighed at it. Enchanted by it. He took my hand in his and started to lead me off the observation deck. As we made our way to the elevator, he closed his eyes again. I led him like a horse to water and inside the elevator I made a personal decision that was different from all other times we had been in this elevator together.

In my love, I wrapped my arms around him, pressing him close. Drinking him in. I did this as much for myself as for him, and I felt him relax on me as if a reward, completely relaxing even though he was so scared.

The whole way down, we embraced. And I closed my eyes, too, imagining we were the only two people in the whole wide world.