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This is rated R.

Sleep was elusive for Seth. The moon barely broke free of large, gray clouds all night and it only served to worsen the ache in his chest. He watched the sky until the sun started to come up, his mind trembling with the thought of never seeing Ryan again. He tossed and turned, his sheets freshly laundered and smelling clean and entirely too soft for his liking. It wasn't fair. True, it wasn't his fault he was born into money, but why should he have so much when everyone else had so little? Closing his eyes and waiting on sleep became too tedious, finally couldn't take it anymore and got dressed in the little light coming from the window.

Creeping out of his room, he was fairly certain everyone was still sleeping - he could hear his mother snoring softly down the hall. Stealing the keys to one of the cars, Seth drove out of the gated community, birds chirping his departure and the security guard offering him a curt smile and wave.

Pulling into the bank parking lot, he searched his wallet for his bank card and used it to gain entry and then again to withdraw money from the ATM. He stuck the five-hundred dollars -his daily limit- into a manilla envelope and set it on the seat next to him. He'd never been where Ryan was at, but money had to help, didn't it? It was all Seth had that could make a difference. It was a stepping stone, a way to get Ryan to at least listen.

Through the gates, the security guard gave him the same compulsory wave and smile and Seth took an extra second to smile and wave back. Replacing the keys, he tucked the envelope inside his jacket pocket and layed out on the couch waiting for the rest of the house to stir.

The whole day he sat around the house, anxious, waiting for his parents to leave. He'd been blessed by some deity-he wasn't sure which one he was putting his faith in this week-because they'd told him earlier in the day that they were going away for a romantic weekend. While Seth didn't care for the details, he was grateful, for once, that he was an only child and there would be no one to tell on him if he came home way past his curfew...or not at all. After that news, he spent the day trying to look like he wasn't hiding anything which just made his parentslook at him with suspicion. Seth was not good under pressure.

His parents left late in the afternoon - his mother fussing over phone numbers and take-out menus before his dad reminded her that Seth was a big boy and could take care of himself, even if he didn't look convinced himself when he said it. After bidding them adieu, he attempted to beat his high score on Playstation but got no enjoyment out of it; burnt a CD for the car, a compilation of Emo songs he hoped Ryan might take an interest in, though he wasn't going to bring up his musical choices unless Ryan did and then, grudgingly, finished the rest of his homework. When the sun started to go down, Seth couldn't get out of the house fast enough.

The drive to Chino was twenty minutes shorter than regular, helped by the fact that he'd done ten over the speed limit the whole ride.

He spotted Ryan immediately. He was alone, hustling on his corner. A shock of blonde hair offset against the crumbling red bricks of the building behind him. The light from the sun flared down on his face in such a way as to make it appear like there was a spotlight shining directly on him. Cheeks red, bruises fading and blue eyes slitted and squinting against the uncompassionate light, Ryan looked tired and beautiful.

Seth had always thought that being gay was like having a parasite growing inside him. That first night with Ryan, he'd been cleaving onto the last bit of hope he had in him that he could make it disappear; if he got it out of his system...if he just did the wrong thing once...if he didn't enjoy it... maybe it would go away, maybe he could just make it shrink slowly and then vanish it to the farthest corners of his mind. He knew now that that wasn't how things worked. And now, the scariest thing of all had occurred, he suddenly realized...he didn't want to get rid of it anymore.

Seth didn't expect this to go smoothly. He knew he'd made more than a few blunders in asking Ryan to be his friend. Gaining his trust was going to be hard. He knew the money would seem like a bribe, but he didn't dwell on that fact. Anything that got him closer to Ryan was worth it.

Seth rolled down the windows and slowed the car. "Can we talk?"

Ryan noticed him and began to walk away. "I'm busy," he shouted over his shoulder.

"Please?" Seth begged, fear making his voice come out squeaky like he was still in the thickets of puberty.

Ryan looked annoyed. "I'm trying to work here." Looking around, Ryan veered right, heading for a throng of streetwalkers down the block.

Seth put the car in reverse and followed him down the street. "I'll give you five hundred dollars if you get in this car right now."

"What?!" Ryan stopped walking, looked directly at Seth.

"Five hundred," Seth repeated and held up the envelope.

Ryan unlocked the door, pushing against it when it stuck. He moved aside and let Seth pass. The door banged behind him and everything shook.

Seth took in the cheap, brown-shag carpet, the army-green couch and chair, the clothes neatly folded in the corner, a small table with a broken lamp, books stacked high against the radiator -Seth thought this was very unsafe- and frowned.

Ryan must have been watching him because he spoke up. "It's busted, don't worry."

Seth nodded and sat down on the couch. Ryan chose the chair. He lit a cigarette and began to methodically count the money.

Seth took a deep breath and released it slowly, coughing slightly. "So, this is home."

"I guess," he grunted without looking up.

Seeing Ryan in his home environment seemed to overrule any unspoken stipulations. It was a peek inside his life. Odd that he should show it to Seth; it had to mean something. Seth didn't focus on that though, he'd been burned in the past for misinterpreting things.

Ryan breathed out through his nose, squinted his eyes and clung to the cigarette with his lips, paying no attention to Seth. When he was finished making sure every last dollar was all there, he stuffed the envelope in the space between his jeans and his bare skin. Seth swallowed hard when he got a look at his abdomen.

Ryan noticed.

He stood, taking a few steps toward Seth. Picking up an ashtray, he butted out his cigarette. His steps were light and sure. The smile on his face was cocky. The pale blue of his eyes gave nothing away. His hand reached out and touched Seth's curls, let them tangle in his fingers.

Seth unconsciously closed his eyes.

"Lay down on your stomach," Ryan instructed, his voice even.

Seth eyes snapped open, he made eye contact with Ryan. Gone was the placid look in his eyes, replacing it was cool determination.

Seth was jumpy, his leg began to shake without his instructions. "What for?"

"What do you mean what for?" Ryan asked, unbuckling his belt.

Seth finally clued in. His mother always said he was a late bloomer. Apparently his own ineptitude and naivete were in fine form. Standing, he held his hands in front of him and backed away until there was nothing left to back into but the wall. "That's not- I don't want to-"

"Then what the fuck do you want?" Ryan looked angry or frustrated or some other emotion Seth couldn't pin down.

Seth considered his answer. What did he want? What did he really want? The answer eluded him. What he wanted was friendship, but was that all he wanted? For now, at least, it had to be. Still, if he revealed his hand too quickly he might spook Ryan away again, but if he lied -and Seth had always been a bad liar- he would be breaking that already fragile bond of trust that he so desperately wanted. He was trapped and the only right answer was the truth, despite what it might cost him.

He didn't blink as he spoke. "I told you: I want to be your friend."

"Why?" Ryan asked, his expression morose.

Seth was silent, he couldn't explain why because he really didn't understand it himself.

A cell phone chirped in the corner. Seth was thankful for the reprieve. Ryan eyed the ringing phone before he rushed over to answer it.

"Hello?" he said, shortly, into the receiver.

"Ryan, man. Theresa's hurt."

Ryan began to pace, beating down a path on an already thin carpet. "What? What happened?!"

"She went off with a John... turned out to be one of Eddie's friends. It's pretty bad, man."

Seth watched as Ryan became increasingly more edgy. Whatever was being said was not good news. "Where is she now?"

"Gwen and Jags are with her."

Ryan's fist was clenched at his side. "Where, Stix? Where are they?"

"Behind the hotel. There's a lot of blood, Ry..."

"Take her to the hospital now, Stix. Even if she refuses to go...drag her if you have to. I'm on my way." Ryan hung up and threw the phone onto the chair.

"What's going on?" Seth asked, watching Ryan pull the door open with shaking fingers.

Ryan didn't answer. He didn't even seem aware of Seth's presence at all.