Title: Allies
Summary: They hide it well.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own the character etc.
This ficlet has slash implications, so don't read it if you think it's wrong.
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Chestnut, silky hair, toned stomach and supple breasts. Summer. A boat with her name without even a word exchanged. He laughs because he's fooling everyone.
Summer is an idealistic dream Seth can never quite attain and he knows it; it's why he chose her. Her name should really be winter because she's as frigid and
icy as the ground in Northern Canada. Hell no, she'll never give Seth the time of day. It's perfect. The perfect cover. The perfect illusion.
He thought he hid it well. It didn't matter that Luke called him fag and queer at every turn because there was a glimmer in his eye and a subtle pan down his
crotch when he did it. Luke is every bit as fruity and in-the-closet as Seth. What the hell do you think sparks all that male aggression?
The catalyst, the boy that made the yearn, the ache, that much stronger comes from Chino. It has to be a fucking joke because a guy that gorgeous couldn't have
been raised in gaudy Chino. A guy with thick arms and an even thicker neck, exposed by that damn piece of twine he adorns it with, could not have come from
Chino. And the fact that he does; that he's the poorest of the poor makes it all the more forbidden and sexy.
So hell yeah, Luke and Seth fight. It isn't about pristine Marissa or Summer or any other girl of good breeding that makes their temperatures rise. It's a fucking
kid from Chino with the social graces of a bull and the stealth walk of a cheetah.
All the bravado, all the grunting and cursing is about Ryan. The way he rolls ice around his tongue every time he has a goddamn drink drives them insane.
That half quirked eyebrow and twisted half smile -a rarity- lights up the room and spins brighter than any flourescent bulb and it drives them mad with need. It
burns through them until they forget they are supposed to be proper young gentlemen who lust after half-dressed women and they should not be thinking how
well a boy from Chino cleans up in a simple suit. They definitely should not be thinking about those long lashes that curl against his cheek and keep his eyes
hidden so you can't really tell his eyes are dark blue; the colour of the sky before a storm.
Luke would pay a solid grand to get just a touch of Ryan's hand on parts only dainty girls have fondled with a giggle. For his inheritance he'd make him fuck
him silly. Luke is sure and strong and there's no doubt he'd make Ryan come hard if he let him.
Seth is kinder. Gentler. A little bit anti-social. Who could blame him though? Growing up in a bloody cornucopia of money and sin doesn't bring out the
best in people.
Seth doesn't just want a hard fuck in the garden shed with tools rattling and bones shaking. He wants love.
The shy, nervous way he babbles on with sharp witticisms and unscrupulous quips about those around him only makes him more endearing. He's just a little
bit of a geek; wearing flashy logos on brightly coloured shirts and baggy pants over his still gawky frame, but he makes Ryan laugh.
He makes Ryan laugh when Ryan hasn't laughed in a really, really long time and it's like music.
Music Luke and Seth want to dance to. And so they are made allies by their mutual want of the poor boy from Chino; the one who cleans up nice in a suit and
swirls ice around his tongue like he knows what it does to them; who wears a necklace too tight and keeps his eyes shadowed so you never can tell what colour
they are.
Blue. His eyes are blue. A storm must be brewing.
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End.