A/N: Written in response to a prompt for the Fright Night Kink Meme at LJ. [Seriously, if you haven't been there yet, go take a look around. It's glorious.]


Jerry already knows what Ed wants to hear. It's obvious-would still be obvious even without the spying and the stalking. Because that kind of neglect? It gives off a scent. And a neglect as strong as Ed's-it goes past enticing, past alluring into downright maddening. Until it haunts his waking hours.

By the time Ed's slipped into the pool, it's over. Nothing left but pomp and circumstance. Ceremony.

So, he plays out a script where he already knows the ending. He starts slow-throws out a few jabs at the people Ed cares about. The best friend who doesn't give a shit.

"Still holding a candle for him, right? But he just doesn't get it, does he?"

The parents who are just so damned enthusiastic for the public eye.

"They don't even look at you, do they? Once your friends are go home?"

One for the whole fucking world that kicks him down again and again and again.

"It never stops, does it, Ed?" Jerry coaxes. He extends his arms to the boy-shivering and terrified as he is. He opens wide in welcome, palms up: the absolving saint.

One for the one who accepts him. The one who expects nothing from him. The one who would give, rather than take.

"I know what it's like to be different. You don't have to keep trying to please them." Jerry smiles, and he knows how it looks: how warm, how inviting.

"It's a gift."

He sees it: the switch. That moment when the fight leaves Ed's eyes and his body goes slack. The moment where he realizes he wants it. And Jerry creeps forward, careful, just the same-until he's cradling Ed's head in his hands.

He smiles in that moment of intimacy, right before he strikes-runs his fingers through Ed's wet mop of hair.

And then his teeth are in Ed's throat, one arm around his waist. He holds Ed to him and the boy lets go. The crucifix, along with his faith, fall away from him. Then Jerry is all that's constant. Jerry is all that's good.

He feels the boys arms come up to tangle around him, even as they drift further from the surface. So, he pulls back from Ed's throat and claims his mouth. Ed lets him in. Ed begs him in. Ed's fingers fist in Jerry's sodden shirt and he pulls and presses as if he could become a part of him.

Jerry smiles into the kiss. He strokes his fingers through Ed's hair as they rises toward the surface. Holding the boy to his chest, he hums into his hair.

They're just so easy to ruin, these humans.

These broken, wounded, little things.