Steve lay awake in his bed that night, in the dark, fully clothed, his mind swimming, still twisted into lust, confusion and doubt over the events of the past few hours.

After the kiss, Leon had started up the car again without another word, and they had driven the rest of the way back in painful, nail-bitingly tense silence. Occasionally, one of them would look at the other, their eyes lingering for a while in quiet desperation as they tried to form the right kind of words to say, before returning back to the road, leaving them once more in an uncomfortable daze. Steve had reverted to keeping his eyes on the black felt floor of the car by his feet, his hands twisted together awkwardly in his lap in a feeble attempt to keep the tightness of his jeans hidden from notice.

Once they had returned to the apartment, it had been past midnight. Leon had stopped in front of Steve long enough to force eye contact, smiling slightly apologetically and rubbing the boy's shoulder, assuring him that they would talk in the morning, before retreating into his room and closing the door, leaving Steve to attempt to pull himself together and resist the desperate urge to follow him.

And now he was in his room, lying in the same position he had dropped into on his bed as he'd entered, his feet still on the floor, his arm curved over his face, wishing to some kind of holy being he didn't even believe in that everything would be okay; that the situation would just…fix itself. Although…if he was really wishing for something…he wished, more than anything, that Leon would come into his room right now and…

…and what?

Would he even know what he was doing? Steve knew a lot about sex, sure, but he had no experience. He'd kissed a girl…once…when he was about fifteen, and that was the extent of his knowledge. All he knew about sex, he knew from dirty magazines and porn, and that stuff wasn't exactly realistic. And aside from 'that', he definitely didn't know how it would go down between two guys. Well…of course he knew 'how' it would work…but he'd never thought about it too clearly before. In his curiosity, he'd occasionally looked at 'that' kind of website, but he'd never had any real interest until now.

Was he gay?

He was pretty sure that by age nineteen, he was supposed to have figured out his sexuality…but how could he? He hadn't had time to figure anything out. He'd barely ever even had the time to think about what day it was…how old he was…his favourite colour…there was no way he'd ever have been able to explore something as complicated as his sexuality.

But what was complicated about it, really? He either liked guys, or he liked girls…that was it, right?

It wasn't as simple as that, though. He liked Leon, sure, but he'd liked Claire in the same way, when they'd been together on Rockfort Island. But maybe…maybe that was because he'd never really been intimate with a guy before. He'd never thought about the possibility that he was only attracted to girls because it was a given…because it was 'normal'. And now…well, sure, he could still picture a beautiful girl in his mind and think that she was attractive…but was he 'attracted' to her? Surely there's a big difference between knowing that somebody is good looking, and actually having sexual feelings for them…

…but he didn't.

He didn't have sexual feelings for any of the girls he could picture…no matter what colour hair they had, or how big their boobs were, or how skimpily-dressed he imagined them…he didn't feel anything. He tried imagining a girl naked…spread out on a bed…perfect body…gorgeous eyes…and all he could think was, 'she looks like she might be cold'.

And he wanted to cover her up with a blanket or something.

But he didn't want her at all.

He sat upright slowly.

Did that mean that he didn't like girls anymore? Sure, it was shallow, just to think of a girl based on her appearance…but this wasn't a test of how much he 'liked' someone…this was a test of whether or not he could get sexually aroused by them. And even if he was testing his theory based upon personality, connection and friendship, he'd seen Claire again recently, and he hadn't felt the same way about her. There was nothing even remotely sexual about the way he saw her now.

He thought that the Leon thing was just conditional…AKA: the guy had to be Leon…it had nothing to do with the fact that he had a dick, right?

He was pretty damn sure the only dick he'd ever been interested in was his own.

But now…

He got up from the bed, pacing around the room slowly, still deep in thought.

…thinking about a 'guy'…

He took off his jacket, dropping it over the dresser lazily and leaning back against it, biting the edge of his thumb distractedly.

…imagining a firm, toned body against his back…pressing his face down into the pillows…hips rocking hard against his own…and the feeling of something…inside him…

He felt the very noticeable ache of arousal in his lower abdomen, tugging lightly at the bottom of his shirt as his mind flipped.

Okay…so maybe he 'was' gay.

Did it matter?

He shrugged slightly to himself, as though he suddenly now needed movements to accentuate his internal sexuality monologue.

It didn't matter to him that he was gay…and it's not like he had any parents to worry about coming out to…

Ouch.

…and anyway, the only people he cared about anymore…Leon, and Claire, and Sherry…it's not like they were going to care. Claire probably knew before he even knew himself. And Leon…well, aside from the fact that it wouldn't bother him anyway, Leon had kissed him. Steve worriedly doubted whether or not he was the one who had made the first move, but he was quite sure that 'Leon' had kissed 'him'.

Did that mean that Leon was gay?

Probably not; he just didn't seem as though he was. But given the fact that he had just made out, quite passionately, Steve could add, with another guy, then he was obviously at least bisexual. Unless…maybe…it was just a random, 'spur-of-the-moment' mistake.

"Ugh."

Steve landed on the bed again, this time on his front, kicking his boots off onto the floor with a light 'thud'.

In any case, he was now suffering what was, quite probably, the worst case of arousal he had ever experienced, to the point where it was literally becoming painful. He didn't even understand how there was enough blood left in the rest of his body for him to actively move his limbs, and his jeans were so painfully tight, that he was actually beginning to feel as though even his breathing was being restricted by their presence against his body.

If Leon hadn't really meant to kiss him…then did he have to do it like 'that'?

He lazily used his feet to push his socks off the edge of the bed onto the floor, before crawling into a more comfortable position, allowing his face to sink into the pillows, resting his hands against the cool material, too.

Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was due to his feelings for Leon, or maybe it was caused by the fact that he was almost twenty and he'd only just experienced his first real kiss…but he was finding himself getting so easily turned on lately, that it was starting to become a significant problem. Luckily, it usually only happened when he was alone, and so he could quickly do something about it. And 'quickly' was an understatement, because, perhaps for the same reasons, his 'alone time' never lasted longer than a few minutes. Either way, he was starting to feel desperate. No matter how many times he did it, he never felt satisfied…he just needed something…more.

During this thought process, one of his hands found its way down his stomach and onto the button of his jeans, unfastening it and tugging down the zip, consequently relieving some of the tension against his groin.

He could do this a million times, and it always felt as though there was something…missing.

Shuddering lightly when his erection brushed against his palm through his underwear, he pressed his hand down and started to rub, not too slowly and not too fast, gaining just enough heated friction from the material against his skin to merit short jolts of pleasure through his lower abdomen. He kept his face pressed into the bed, hiding reality from sight, and allowing his imagination to turn his hand into someone else's…into Leon's. And as soon as it did, he felt the feeling build, felt his hips buck…

…but it just wasn't 'enough'.

He stopped, sitting up on his knees and sighing fairly heavily, running his hand roughly through his hair.

If he did it that way, it would be the same outcome as usual. It would feel good, sure, and, of course, it wouldn't take long for him to reach the desired end, but afterwards, he'd still get that odd feeling of emptiness.

Tiredly, he pushed himself up off the bed and kicked his shoes into their usual spot by the door. He only had one pair, so it seemed pretty pointless to tidy them away. Then, after dumping his socks into the laundry basket by the bathroom, he decided to take a shower, worrying slightly that it was around one in the morning and he was probably disturbing Leon. Then again…who cares? This was all his fault anyway.

Steve dropped the rest of his clothes across the dresser with his jacket, before going into the bathroom and closing the door firmly, locking it. There was never really any point in him locking the bathroom door, but after three years of never having had any privacy, it had sort of become a habit.

The automatic light flickered on behind the bathroom mirror, giving the room its usual soft, slightly fluorescent glow as he reached in and turned on the shower, adjusting the spray slightly before he got in. The heat from the water, which he'd always liked 'really' hot, steamed up the glass walls of the shower instantly, and filled the room with a thin layer of steam. It was probably something to do with the T-Veronica virus, but, while cold sometimes affected him quite badly, he could withstand a lot more heat than his body should be able to, and now always had a higher temperature than the average person.

Once in the shower, he stayed under the spray for a while, letting the water run over him, hoping that it would help to calm him…perhaps relax his body a little, but the longer he stood there, watching droplets of water run clear lines through the steamed up tiles of the wall close to his face, all he could think of was that Leon's bathroom was right behind that wall…and the urge to march right into his room at that moment became unbearable.

His lust never lessened…and he felt the muscles in his stomach and his thighs prickling slightly irritably from the way he ignored the needs of his body. Resting one of his arms against the wall with his forehead against it, he took a deep breath, but it never steadied his disposition.

He slid his hand across his stomach slowly, and across one of his hips, the water between his body and his palm allowing his fingertips to glide smoothly across his skin, igniting his arousal with renewed passion. His fingers then worked their way across his hip and onto his waist, gripping at his flesh there slightly, finding some kind of odd new pleasure in the feeling of the soft curve where his back arched from the wall. He felt that ache deep in the pit of his stomach again as his fingertips found the bottom of his back, his index finger rested just slightly against a hotter, tighter section of sensitive skin.

He'd always still be left feeling…empty…

Gulping, he pushed the tip of his finger past the tight ring of muscle underneath it, feeling

his body tense slightly at the unfamiliar intrusion. But there was something else…something that sparked across his spine as he slid his finger deeper, the water providing sufficient lubrication to ease the movement. He didn't even realise how far he'd taken it until he felt the curve of his other fingers press against the bottom of his back, and his thighs shuddered briefly.

It was…strange…it was…foreign…but every time he moved his finger, even just a little, brushing against the walls of muscle pressed hotly around it, he felt that same jolt of pleasure up the length of his spine and down into his legs. His skin felt as though it was on fire. The feeling…of having something inside him like that…it was driving him crazy. The way his body reacted as he started to move his finger; the way it began to satisfy that ache somewhere deep down, literally brought him to the point where he almost couldn't even stand; had his fingers gripping against the tiles of the wall slightly helplessly and his breathing heavy.

He never believed that something like this could feel so good, but he felt his orgasm growing quickly with the speed of his finger, his back arching further, skin stinging slightly from the constant shower of hot water hitting his back, only adding to the sensation. Maybe it was just because it was new…it was different and exciting…but even just the thought of what he was doing intensified the pleasure. It was just so…hot…and wet…and tight…and all he could think was how much better Leon could probably do this to him. Faster…harder…deeper…

His hips jolted sharply as he came over the edge, and he let his body rest against the wall heavily, still moving his finger slowly as he rode it out, a sharp moan ripping itself from his throat before he could stop it.

For a while afterwards, he stayed against the wall of the shower, palms pressed against the tiles, catching his breath, watching the wall just inches from his face. And he suddenly felt exhausted, his limbs slightly heavy, and his eyelids threatening to close before he was clear of the bathroom.

After drying himself off and pulling on some clean underwear, he hit the bed heavily and buried himself into the sheets, his heart still beating loudly in his ears, barely able to take the time to hope to the sweet, merciful lord that Leon hadn't heard any of that, before he was taken swiftly by sleep.

At least now…he was pretty sure about his sexuality.