So this chapter initially wasn't supposed to go...quite like this, but, you know, whatever. YOLO.

Fun deployment fact: In my division, everything got turned into an insult. Someone would mention cheese in passing, and someone else would scream, "YOU'RE CHEESE!" and someone else would pretend to be offended and scream back, "YOUR MOM IS CHEESE!" This started the day we left on deployment and is still ongoing. Sorry not sorry.

Many thanks to Cucumbermonster4, MewCoyote, SilverEnderwolf, NewWings, Bitblondetoday, TatsuyaAngel17, and one guest for your reviews to the last chapter!

One final aside: I squirreled away a future plot point way back in chapter 7. (Like back when I first posted it.) Has anyone figured it out yet? *eyebrow waggle*

Rufioh crumpled and uncrumpled the piece of paper in his hands for what felt like the hundred and fiftieth time that night. It was Damara's number, and even though he knew he was supposed to call her—somehow it had been decided that they were together now—he was still nervous. He didn't know what he was going to say to her. Still, he desperately wanted to be normal, and if it meant he had to fumble through this awkwardness, so be it. He dug a quarter out of his pocket, shut himself into the phone booth, slid the coin into the slot, and dialed her phone number.

It rang for nearly twenty seconds—Rufioh's heart getting lighter and lighter as he realized that maybe she wouldn't answer—before the other line picked up. "Hello?" a female voice said breathlessly.

It wasn't Damara, he could tell right away. The voice was a little higher, and Rufioh seemed to recall that Damara had a younger sister. This was probably her, then. "Um, hey. This is, um, Rufioh. Rufioh Nitram. I-is Damara there?"

"Sure," the voice said, suddenly amused. "Hold on." The phone was set down and the same voice was now heard at a distance, calling, "Damara, it's for youuuuuuu," in an obnoxious sing-song tone. After that, there were a few seconds of unintelligible murmurs, an excited-sounding squeak, and then the clatter of the receiver as it was picked up—frantically, probably.

"Rufi?"

"Uh, hey, doll. It's me."

"I was hoping you'd call," Damara said, sounding excited while trying not to sound too excited. She still had to play it cool, after all.

Rufioh swallowed. "Well, I did. So, um, how was your weekend?"

That seemed to be the only invitation Damara needed. Without further prompting, she launched into a detailed account of the previous day and a half. The story culminated in a scandalized-sounding recitation of an attack on a Baptist church, and it took Rufioh a second to remember that he'd been behind that. Well, he and the other Lost Boys, anyway. "Sounds terrible, doll. What'd they do about it?"

"Well, Reverend Vantas left it up until after the service because he wanted it to act as a testament to the depravity of today's youth. But I think it got cleaned up afterward."

"Oh. That's good, then." He swallowed hard and turned around so he wasn't facing the rest of the phone. The sun was setting just above the tree line and in the phone booth, he felt strangely disconnected, like he was merely watching everything around him, not actually participating. "I take it that was the most excitin' part of the weekend."

"Of course not," Damara said. "As a matter of fact, the most exciting part was hanging out with you."

He was listening from a distance; her words barely sank in, more floating on the surface of his mind without being absorbed. A blue pickup truck roared by, and for one fleeting moment, he and the driver locked eyes. Then the truck was rumbling into the distance, and Horuss Zahhak was out of sight. He was seized with a crazy impulse to chase after him, but his knees seemed frozen and refused to move. For that instant, he'd actually felt peaceful.

"Rufi? Are you still there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry, doll. I thought someone out here was tryin' to get my attention."

"Oh. So you didn't hear what I said?" she asked, sounding disappointed.

He mentally backtracked. "No, sorry, I heard you. Me—mine, too. Hangin' out with you was great," he said. He hoped it didn't sound too forced.

"Really?" she gushed. He guessed he seemed convincing. That, or she was so desperate to believe he returned her feelings that she would swallow basically anything he said, no matter how insincere he sounded.

He felt horrible for her. "Really, doll." For a moment, he considered telling her the truth, being brutally honest. Damara, I have to tell you. I'll never be able to love you the way you deserve to be loved. It's not you or anything you did, doll. It's me. Please don't cry, Damara. I promise you didn't do anything wrong. It's just that, the way I'm supposed to feel about girls... I don't. I like boys.

He couldn't tell her. She would scream. She would cry. She would call him a freak, a monster. He turned back to the phone dial and cupped his forehead in his free hand.

"Aw, you're so sweet. Thanks, doll," she said, clearly trying his own flirting tactic on him.

He chuckled nervously, and in attempt to hide it, he said, "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at school, huh?"

She laughed. "Well, yeah, I was planning on going. But it's still early—think maybe we could meet up tonight? I have no problem sneaking out," she added in a conspiratorial tone.

"M-my dad actually won't let me, an' we have like a hundred dogs so sneakin' out really isn't an option," he lied quickly.

"Oh." She sounded disappointed, but then her voice brightened. "Well, alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow, Rufi!"

"Yeah, doll. I'll see you tomorrow." He hung up quickly and hurried out of the phone booth, but once the cool evening air washed over his face and he didn't feel so confined, he slowed down and walked to the curb where he sat down and dug a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket.

He was down to his last three. He eyed them for a moment and sighed. He didn't know when he was going to be able to buy another pack, so it was best to conserve them while he could. He put the pack away and stared off at the trees, barely noticing the loud rumbling approaching.

He'd walked to the phone booth from his house, a nearly two-mile trek. He'd wanted the time to clear his head and he especially wanted the privacy away from his house, his father, his brother, and a hundred yapping bulldogs. He didn't want to go back, either. He was calm out here in the open, suddenly-quiet air. He could breathe out here. Away from his father's lingering presence—beer and sweat and hands that were fists more often than not—he felt safe, safer than he did at home.

Although he did wish Tink were here, at least.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Here, no one would bother him.

"Rufioh?"

His eyes flew open and he twisted around. No fuckin' way. Horuss Zahhak had reappeared with that truck of his, now parked about twenty feet behind Rufioh. Horuss himself was out of the truck, looking at him from over the hood. Rufioh hated the way his heart skipped a beat as he first locked eyes with Horuss. He hoped his face wasn't turning red, although if it was, it was quickly becoming too dark outside to tell.

"Hey, Horuss. We really have to stop meetin' like this," he joked to cover his nerves as he stood up. He tugged nervously at his jacket and hoped Horuss didn't notice.

"You do always seem to be stranded," he agreed with a small nod.

"Well, at least this time, it was by choice."

"It wasn't last time?"

"Well, Cronus was drivin' me home an' I told him to let me out, so... maybe it was by choice both times." He shrugged, slowly walking toward him without realizing it. "But I actually walked out here this time."

"You're still a fair distance from home," Horuss pointed out.

"True, but I had a phone call to make an' I didn't want to do it at home. You know little brothers," he half-joked. He loved Tavros to death, of course, but sometimes he just needed his space.

"I do know. My younger brother is a sophomore this year."

"I didn't know you had a younger brother."

Horuss nodded. "Yes. Equius is on the wrestling team, as a matter of fact."

"Heh. Tavros takes Home Ec." He immediately felt guilty—it almost sounded like he was making fun of his brother, and he'd never do that.

"A very useful skill set to have," Horuss said solemnly. "I wish I'd had the chance to take it, but considering the schedule I've had since my freshman year, it's been virtually impossible to fit it all in."

Rufioh felt a little better. Apparently, Horuss really wasn't a raging jackass. He actually was as nice as he seemed. That was an unusual quality to find in a person. "Well, my dad wasn't too thrilled by it. He said, and I quote, 'Home Ec is for pansies.'"

Horuss flinched. "Your father doesn't seem to be the most... enlightened person, shall we say?"

"I'm used to it."

"Your eye looks a little better."

Reflexively, Rufioh touched the bruise. The purple was mostly fading, but there was still tinges of yellow around his eye left. "I look like a horror show."

"I've seen worse. Although, sadly, not inflicted by a parent." Horuss blinked and then started stuttering out, "My apologies—I just realized how that sounded. That is to say, that's the worst I've—"

"I know what you meant," Rufioh said. He half-smiled. "Like I said, I'm used to it. It's not a big deal."

Horuss looked down at the hood of his pickup for a minute. "If you'd like another ride home, I would be more than happy to oblige. Although, I was just on my way to dinner, so if you're hungry—"

"Thanks, but I can't really afford dinner out, an' I can't ask you to pay for me. You barely know me—it ain't right."

Horuss nodded. "I suppose that's fair. But if you'd still like a ride home..."

"That, I won't say no to." Even though he would have loved going out to dinner and spending more time with Horuss, he couldn't let himself get too close. There was no point in falling for another man who wouldn't want him. A ride home was all he would allow himself.

"Very well. Hop in."

Once Rufioh had slammed his door shut and settled back in the passenger's seat, Horuss started the truck back up and they roared away from the parking lot.

"So who were you calling that required such secrecy?" Horuss paused. "I'm sorry, I asked without thinking. That's none of my business."

"I don't mind, really. It was Damara Megido."

"Damara? She's one of the... Fuchsia Ladies, correct? That's what they call themselves?"

"Yeah." Rufioh chuckled. "That's them. An' yeah, she's one of them."

"I see. So I suppose that means the two of you are going steady?"

"I... well, we went out on Friday night. An' I know she likes me a lot. An' she's great an' all, she really is. An' I guess everyone thinks that's what we're gonna do, so I guess I'll ask her, but really, I don't feel that way about her."

"I'm sorry. It's difficult to find a meaningful connection with someone. And to add to that, the pressure of doing what others think you should do with no consideration for whether it's really the right thing for you. I don't envy you."

"I guess you have that problem too, then, huh?"

"I find that people are often intimidated by me. I'm told I can be very intense." He almost sounded mournful as he said it.

"Intense isn't bad," Rufioh protested, and then nearly smacked himself. The last thing he wanted was Horuss getting uncomfortable with him. If Rufioh sounded like he was flirting with him, that would probably be a good way to do it.

What looked like a smile twitched at the corner of Horuss's mouth. "It's a special sort of person who can tolerate my intensity."

It almost sounds like he's flirting back. Rufioh definitely noticed the gender-neutral language, but maybe it was his own wishful thinking that was projecting onto Horuss.

"Probably a bunch of high school kids can't appreciate it, though. Don't worry. I'm sure someone out there thinks you're cool."

Horuss didn't answer for a few moments, and Rufioh started feeling awkward. Maybe he'd said something wrong. Again. "Not to imply that you ain't cool or anythin', but like..." He was sure he was turning red by now. "I mean, you are cool, but like in a real unusual way, I guess." His face burned and he sank farther down in the seat, wishing it would swallow him up.

"I suppose your assessment is correct. I am rather unusual." Horuss was half-smiling again, and it made Rufioh feel a little better. "And you don't even know the half of it yet."

"Oh, yeah?" Rufioh attempted a smirk. "Try me."

"Well, aside from my physical intensity, my personal beliefs are rather unconventional. Most people find it off-putting."

"Unconventional how?"

Horuss tightened his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment before relaxing his grip. "I operate under the belief that how a person chooses to live their life is their own business. For example, I have an older cousin who... well, she's not interested in men. She currently lives with another woman, and from what I understand, they're quite happy together. Most people I know would frown on such an arrangement, if not outright condemn it, but the way I see it, they aren't hurting anyone. They're happy. They're hardworking. And so it's no one's place to judge them for what little happiness they can find in the world."

Rufioh felt lightheaded, nearly giddy. He'd never felt this kind of relief before, knowing without a doubt that someone finally wouldn't judge him or call him a freak. "I completely agree, actually. Just because a certain type a' relationship ain't common doesn't mean it ain't worthwhile."

"Of course. And naturally, I think anyone who's brave enough to live authentically as who they are deserves the utmost respect. No one should have to live a lie."

Rufioh's eyes stung but he had no idea he was actually crying until Horuss, sounding alarmed, said, "Are you alright?"

He wiped at his eyes quickly and nodded. "Yeah, I just... that's exactly what I'm doin' with Damara. I know she doesn't deserve to be lied to like this, but I feel like I got no other choice. Cro an' all them have been pushin' us together an' she likes me a lot but I can't just tell her the truth, 'cause..."

"Because there's a good chance she won't understand," Horuss finished gently. The truck rolled to a stop in front of Rufioh's house and he didn't want to get out of the pickup, he just wanted to stay in here with Horuss and his warm, soothing presence and his unconditional acceptance and his caring blue eyes that were locked right on him. "I understand. Right now, in high school and with everyone as judgemental as they are, it's not the wisest choice to live openly."

"I don't care if I have to keep it a secret. I just want to be with the guy that makes me happy." His chest felt like an expanding balloon as he said it, finally admitted out loud the awful truth. Next to Horuss, though, it didn't feel so awful.

"So do I," Horuss murmured.

Did he just say that, or did I dream it? Rufioh wondered, jerking his head up to stare at him. He was pretty sure he'd actually heard it, but it still had a dreamlike quality to it, especially with Horuss meeting his gaze like that. Even in the nearly-full dark of dusk, he could still see how incredibly blue Horuss's eyes were, how full of concern and maybe even hope.

Something in his expression must have been the signal that Horuss was looking for, because he leaned in close, cupped Rufioh's cheek, and murmured, "I hope this is okay."

Rufioh nodded, one quick jerk of his head, and then Horuss's lips were on his.

This kiss was nothing like the awkward, forced passion of Damara's kisses. It was slow and sweet, tender and just a little bit hesitant, as though both of them were worried about scaring the other away. Rufioh's hand found its way into Horuss's hair and he gently twisted his fingers through the long, silky strands. His heart thudded hard against his ribs when Horuss gasped quietly into his mouth and their tongues met, skimming over lips and teeth, and he knew without a doubt that this felt right, he'd been made for this, he'd been made for Horuss.

And maybe, Horuss had been made for him too.

There was an aching sort of relief in knowing he was safe here, in Horuss's arms. He never wanted to let go; he just wanted to stay here with Horuss forever, in this truck that smelled like Horuss did, like kindness and strength and reassurance. This heady mix of emotions flooding through him, anchoring him—this was what his first kiss should have been like. But at least it was his first kiss with another guy, so he would count that a success.

Horuss's pulse was galloping just like his—he could feel it with his hand cupping Horuss's neck. His fingertips traced up, into Horuss's hairline, and the kiss suddenly intensified, the bigger boy suddenly out of his seat and closing the distance between their bodies, and Rufioh fell back against the passenger door, half on the seat and half off, and somehow his legs were spread open and Horuss was between them, pressing against him, and oh, God, he was so hard and Horuss's bulge rubbed against his thigh through two layers of denim and he wanted this, he wanted it so bad, he whined and jerked his hips up against Horuss's and he felt so dirty but he wanted to do it again, he wanted to pull both their jeans off and feel their skin pressed together, gliding across each other, he wanted to lose himself to Horuss, he wanted Horuss so bad—

"We have to stop," Horuss said hoarsely.

Rufioh blinked up at him. Both their shirts were riding up and his jacket had almost been pushed down his arms. "Huh?"

"We're in a rather public area, and in front of your house, moreover." Horuss gently pulled back, letting Rufioh sit up. "I apologize. I don't know what came over me. I'm usually more controlled than that."

The cold weight of dread settled in Rufioh's chest. Horuss regretted kissing him. He was a mistake. A momentary loss of control. "Sorry," he mumbled, tugging his shirt down and his jacket on. "Thanks for the ride home." He popped the door open and practically fell out of the truck.

"Rufioh, wait, please."

The sadness in Horuss's voice was what made him pause and turn around. "Yeah?"

"Please, don't think I regretted that. The only thing I regret was kissing you in so public a place. Believe me, Rufioh, if we had had the right level of privacy, I might not have been able to stop kissing you. Unless you told me to, that is."

He half-smiled, the tension in his chest easing. "I don't think that would have happened."

"All the same."

Rufioh gave him a full smile now. "So all we have to do is find privacy? I think I can find some a' that."

With Horuss's returning smile still brightening the dark places in his mind, Rufioh turned and strolled up to his house. Horuss's truck didn't pull away until after the door had closed behind him.

GO HOME HORUSS YOU'RE NOT SUBTLE AT ALL.

Every time you think I was making a horse pun in reference to Horuss, you're right.