Passion Under Moonlight

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Chapter 1:

Nobody at SpaceX gave a damn about the weather in New York. This was plain as day, but it hadn’t stopped Aunt Josie from pacing around the parlor, glued to the front window. She was searching the sky for clouds, pressing her face so close to the glass that her lipstick smeared. Mom scolded her for it, of course, and Josie just barked back. Soon enough, everyone was shouting.

It was the day of my brother Tony’s wedding and the night we’d launch for the moon again. The prospect of rain meant everything that day. A storm would shower blessings on the couple, Josie said, but she also feared for the astronauts. If lightning struck, they'd crash back to earth. She wasn’t about to be swayed by logic—no way. In her mind, Tony’s wedding and the space race were cut from the same cosmic cloth.

But it didn’t rain. It was damn humid, though, hot enough to melt the paper hearts tied to the back of Tony and Angela’s limo, leaving streaks of color. But no rain.

After the reception, I slipped outside to the parking lot to steal a smoke, tugging a lone cigarette from my too-snug suit pocket. The tables inside were empty, visible through the windows. Angela’s dad had only rented the back room—keeping things on the frugal side. Even as the party began to wind down, with guests slipping out to catch the launch on TV, I could still hear the stragglers, their voices just faint echoes through the night.

I struck a match from a booklet I’d snagged at the counter, watching the smoke drift up toward the sky. They were out there, right above us. It hit me how surreal it was—those men gearing up to walk on the moon while I was here, tracing smoke lines up to them. Some part of me wanted to believe they’d somehow feel it, that they’d look down and know I was here. Not many did.

"You’d better get a move on, or you’ll miss it,” Aunt Josie yelled, waving her arms at my uncle from the door. “Come on, Franco, turn the damn car on! Tony, for God’s sake, don’t look at her yet—you know it’s bad luck!” And then, like some kind of mission in itself, Tony, the groomsmen, and I piled into the old Lincoln.

When I slid into the back, the radio was already crackling, counting down. Our driver, actually wearing one of those little caps, had the broadcast on. We all held our breath, and when the announcer finally said touchdown, without a hitch, the car erupted in cheers, even the driver. With that, he hit the gas, barely missing a lamppost. My knuckles went white on the door handle.

The familiar streets blurred past us, layered in something new. Everything looked the same, but it felt different. It struck me that the world was changing. From this point forward, there would be a before and after.

We took a detour since a main road was blocked, which meant Angela and her bridesmaids were already at the church when we arrived. I spotted Saint Mary’s up ahead, glowing in the dusk. A woman in lavender—a cousin, maybe—waved us down. I’d hear later that they’d had to lock Angela in the basement to keep Tony from sneaking a peek. Some kind of wedding-day curse, they said.

I took a long drag, savoring the cigarette, when I heard the slam of the door and footsteps on the gravel. Half-expecting Tony sneaking out for air, I looked up to see a tall waiter, vest snug, a sheen of kitchen sweat catching the light on his forehead. He moved with this quiet intensity, freckles peppering his face and neck. Nearly colliding with me, he muttered a quick apology, running a hand through a shock of dark hair.

“Need a light?” I asked, offering him my matchbook.

He nodded, pulling a cigarette from a carton in his back pocket. As he took a drag, he exhaled a polite puff over his shoulder, as if to spare me.

“Thanks, man. Can’t smoke inside, so here I am,” he chuckled.

“Guess we’re both in hiding,” I grinned. “Just don’t tell my mom. She doesn’t know I sneak these.”

He laughed, a rich, throaty sound that drew a grin out of me. “You with the bride or groom?” he asked, glancing back at the window where a few last dancers swayed.

“Groom’s my brother. Dominic Costello, or Dom,” I said, extending a hand.

“Nice to meet you, Dom. I’m Liam.” He watched the smoke dance in front of us, both cigarettes trailing together toward the stars. “Looks like a good time.”

“It’s alright,” I shrugged. “Big family deal, ya know. What about you? Just working the summer?”

“Yeah. Came here for a change of scene, picking up gigs where I can,” he said, glancing skyward, his gaze lingering on the faint outline of the moon. “It’s surreal, isn’t it? They’re really up there.”

“Yeah, and here we are, sweating it out, celebrating,” I chuckled. “But it makes you think, right? Like, they’re up there, walking around on the moon. And I’m here, in a parking lot, sharing a smoke with a guy I just met.” I looked at him, and there was a small, knowing smile on his face.

Without a word, Liam tossed his cigarette to the ground, embers scattering. “Come on,” he said, eyes lifting back to the moon. He stretched his arms up, reaching for it. “They can see us too, you know?”

Before I knew it, we were both jumping, laughing, trying to leap up high enough to touch that distant rock. My laughter mixed with his, and I felt weightless, as if everything that usually anchored me didn’t matter.

In a flash, I grabbed his hand, and he didn’t pull away. For a moment, everything—our world, our families, the wedding inside—disappeared. We were just two people, under the biggest sky, reaching for something no one else could touch.

Just as I thought I’d lean in closer, Aunt Josie burst through the door. “Dom! Get back inside! Your mom’s looking for you!”

We pulled apart, both of us a little flushed. Liam shot me a grin as he whispered, “Go on, spaceman. Your mom’s calling.”

“Yeah,” I said, taking a step back. “Catch you later, Liam. Maybe... maybe there’s another night like this.”

“Maybe,” he replied, his eyes soft. “Happy birthday, Dominic.”

From this night forward, there’d be everything before and everything after. The world had just opened up. Anything felt possible.

Chapter 2;
The wedding ended in a blur of hugs, goodbyes, and half-drunk relatives piling into cars. I stuck around until most of the family had left, hoping for a glimpse of Liam before the night was over. But he was nowhere in sight. I finally turned to leave when a voice called from the shadows by the side of the building.

“Hey, spaceman.”

It was Liam, leaning against the wall in the dim glow of a streetlamp, a quiet grin stretched across his face. I could feel my pulse pick up as I walked over, our steps slow, each of us hesitating just enough to feel the weight of every second passing between us. He looked up at me with that same knowing expression, like he could see right through me.

“You’re still here,” I managed, my voice almost a whisper.

“Had to make sure you made it to liftoff,” he said, his voice low. “Wanted to see if you were really going to just disappear on me.”

I laughed, a nervous sound that felt too loud in the quiet night. “Guess I’d be a lousy astronaut if I did.”

He moved closer, close enough that I could see the way his freckles glowed under the faint light, how his eyes traced my face, landing on my lips, lingering there just long enough for me to catch my breath. It felt like we were the only two people left on Earth.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice warm against my ear, “it’s not every day you meet someone who just... gets you.”

My hands found his shoulders, and he pulled me close, so close that the heat between us seemed to spark in the still air. His lips brushed my cheek, a light, lingering touch that left me dizzy. We held there for a moment, breathing each other in, the quiet between us thick with unspoken promises. I felt the weight of his hands on my back, steadying me, anchoring me.

Then he tilted my face up to his, his thumb brushing along my jawline. The kiss was slow at first, cautious, our lips meeting softly before the urgency between us grew. His fingers slid through my hair as he pressed me back against the cool brick wall, our breath mingling in the warmth between us. I could feel his heart racing under my hand, his pulse matching mine beat for beat.

We broke apart just long enough for him to look me in the eyes, a half-smile playing at his lips. “Tonight, we’re the ones reaching for the stars,” he murmured, before drawing me back in. The world fell away, leaving only the two of us, tangled up in each other, hidden from everyone else under the vast night sky