Notes:

Iceworm- I've never read Camille, but I know the general story and I think I can resist. ;) Unless I'm thinking of something else. lol

Don't hate Seth.

This fic is rated R.

Chapter 2

Seth faked sick the following week so he wouldn't have to go to school, but after three days his Mother got worried and wanted to take him to the hospital, so he was forced to go back and listen to the taunts from his peers for the remaining two days. He was running out of dry shoes and running out of jokes to confuse the neanderthals that made his existence a living hell.

That Friday he made up an excuse to borrow the car and headed out to Chino. This time he took his Father's Lexus even though he felt stupid driving around in it, but his Mother was still at work and he had no other choice.

He couldn't get that boy out of his head. The wet dreams alone would have been enough to put Rosa in a tizzy and make his mother call the psychiatrist again if she knew what they were from, if he hadn't been stealth and washed them in the morning before anyone else was awake. There was something about him, something undefinable. Seth knew going to him, seeking him out, would change everything; would splinter everything he thought he knew about himself and forever change the way he lived his life, and though he was scared to death, he knew he had to see him.

The entire week he'd dragged his guilty conscience around with him. It felt like a stick of dynamite strapped to his chest every time he breathed. He told himself it meant nothing. That he was a teenager and it was okay to be confused...at least that was what all those after-school specials had always claimed.

And he knew, even as he sat in class, head bent, shoulders slumped to avoid drawing attention to himself so no one could mock him for being different, that he was going to go back and see Ryan again. He was going to go because he was different and he needed something, someone, to make it okay. Someone that maybe understood.

Seth circled the block for the tenth time, driving slowly. He was waiting for that boy-the one the hooker had called Ryan-to come around. He'd seen the brunette that had given him the blow job get into a white Camry and drive away. That had been fifteen minutes ago. He watched as the car followed behind him now and from his rearview he watched her get out and blow a kiss to the driver. Then he saw Ryan. His arm slung over the Spanish girl, the same wife-beater-or maybe a different one, who knew how many he had?-covering his wide chest and the cross sparkling against the last of the sun as they walked together to the corner that they usually occupied. It was too late to double back, so Seth turned up the street and sped his way around again.

There were things Seth knew about that not many regular people--people that hadn't grown up privileged in a mansion big enough for a family of twenty--had the pleasure or displeasure of knowing (depending on how someone looked at it). For instance, he knew how to tie a Windsor knot when he was seven and a bow-tie when he was eight, he knew how to set a formal table and which forks were for salad and which were used for the main course and had become an expert when it came to manners and decorum in Newport by the time he was ten.

Those were all well and good. Good things to know. They'd come in handy later in life, he supposed. But then there were things that Seth had missed out on, the things regular people got to experience, like friends and the joy of running through the sprinkler in the middle of the day because the air-conditioner was broken, selling lemonade for ten cents a cup to earn enough money to buy that comic book he'd had his eye on - those were the type of things that built character. Those were the things his father tried to teach him about. He'd never gotten to experience any of it. He'd always had enough money for comic books and whenever the air-conditioner went out there was always a maintenance man at their house within an hour.

One thing Seth did know that no one had to teach him was loneliness. And he had always suspected that it was an universal emotion. He knew, looking at Ryan, that he'd been right.

As he got closer, he noticed the bruise had faded, but the cut above his eye was still an angry red. Seth pressed a button and the tinted windows rolled down. He slowed as he approached the pair and finally stopped a few feet away. He saw them both look into the car and then speak to each other in hushed whispers. Ryan removed his arm from around the girl and kissed her on the cheek; her eyes looked sad as he did so. Seth turned away. He felt the heaviness in his chest creeping up on him again.

Ryan opened the door and got into the car like he had been expecting Seth all along. Seth turned his head to look at him. He was sweaty, smelled faintly of smoke, but other than that looked like a normal teenager.

"I-I..."

"Blow job, right?"

Seth nodded, his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Go two blocks down, remember where Gwen took you last time?"

Seth nodded dumbly, hoping he didn't come off looking too stupid. He hadn't known the woman's name. He hadn't asked.

"Okay, go there."

Seth obeyed. He put the car in gear and rolled away, but not before catching the eye of the girl Ryan had been walking with. A weird feeling vibrated up through Seth's spine. It was dirtier than guilt. Seth felt like he was choking. He rolled the windows back up and reached his hand out. Ryan pressed himself against the back of his seat and Seth startled.

"Sorry, I'm just going to turn on the A/C. I wasn't gunna-" Seth cut himself off, he wasn't quite sure how to finish.

Ryan nodded and looked out the window, remaining cold and distance.

Seth had to remind himself this was just a job for the other teen, just a way to make money. He turned the air-conditioner on full blast and wiped the sweat form his forehead.

He wanted to say something comforting but anything he said was just going to sound stupid and the guy looked like he could take care of himself, if anyone should have been spooked it was Seth.

"This is a nice car. What're you rich?"

Seth tried not to sound too surprised that the stranger beside him had spoken. "No...but my parents are." He cut the engine and cleared his throat, spared a glance beside him where Ryan was slouched in his seat. "What's your name?"

Ryan smirked, his hair falling forward as he leaned over and whispered into Seth's ear. "Whatever you want it to be."

"Ryan," Seth said, instantly regretting it when the other boy pulled back and his eyes got dark. "Gwen," Seth divulged as way of explanation. He knew from his reaction it was his real name, not some made-up street name. "Uh, I'm Seth by the way. Just, you know, since I know your name..."

"Look, Kid," he said, rolling his eyes, "I don't get paid to talk."

Seth hated how young his words made him feel, how weathered Ryan seemed. He nodded for lack of anything to say -which was a great feat because Seth always had words even when he didn't need them.

In the darkness it was hard to see Ryan and it occurred to Seth that he didn't even know the colour of his eyes. Ryan hadn't looked him in the eye, not once. He did look at him, though. He was constantly sizing Seth up, looking at him from the corner of his eyes, always observing him. It made Seth feel a deep ache in his chest he didn't quite understand.

Ryan pulled a condom from his combat boots and Seth had a flashback of that movie, Pretty Woman, his mother always called so romantic, apparently his mother had never been in an alley about to get head from a boy who could have been his friend in another life and feeling like a complete asshole for wanting it so bad. It wasn't glamourous and it wasn't romantic.

Seth tried to relax, tried not to say something completely dorky and off-topic when Ryan's hand reached over and unzipped him so he was free from his too-tight jeans. Ryan was completely focussed. All business. He didn't hesitate, didn't put on a show like he was enjoying the whole encounter, just ripped the foil package and slid the condom down Seth's shaft with his mouth. His hothothot mouth. He knew he was going to come too fast. He was actually surprised he hadn't right then. Seth groaned and bit his tongue. He tasted blood.

Slamming his head against the seat, he gripped the door handle instead of holding onto Ryan's hair like he wanted to do. "Fuck," Seth groaned.

Ryan doubled his efforts, licking and sucking and Seth knew he was going to come. "God, Ryan. God!"

His hips jerked and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, all he could see was blackness and stars shooting out into the abyss which was where Seth had relocated.

Seth couldn't breathe properly and the windows had fogged. Ryan was already back in his seat, condom tossed and waiting to be paid. Seth wished it was more, wished they could just sit and talk for awhile, but Ryan looked anxious to leave.

Seth recovered enough to zip up his pants and pull his wallet from his pocket. He counted out the money, adding a few extra bills. He handed the money to Ryan who shoved it in his front pocket and Seth couldn't help his eyes from following the move.

Ryan reached for the door handle and Seth grabbed his arm. Ryan yanked it away and glared at Seth.

Seth swallowed, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. "Uh, I-I'll take you back."

"I can walk," Ryan said and exited the car, leaving Seth alone.

Seth drove home. He let the air conditioner numb his fingers and his thoughts.

He hated Luke; hated him for being right. He hated the part of himself that wanted Ryan and hated himself more because he knew Ryan had to hate him, too.

In the comfort of his bed that night, Seth clung to Captain Oats, his toy horse, letting the world fade away and allowing tears to fall from his cheeks onto his pillow without making a sound.