Author's Note: Wow, am I just flying through these chapters! I'm usually not this quick to update, but I have a lot of free time lately and just can't stop thinking of this story. I really should be working on my older fics, but…this one won't leave me alone!

So, thanks to those of you who reviewed/favorited/+alert'ed this! I appreciate the support…especially since I've forgotten what it's like waiting for those email notifications to pop up in my inbox, haha!

Matinee Idol

Chapter Two: Passenger Seat

Leon had work at Destati for the next few days before he had a day off, which he was desperately looking forward to. He was already sick of working at the bar. He didn't enjoy bartending, on the rare occasion he actually had to make a drink, and the atmosphere of the joint made him uncomfortable. And he never looked forward to seeing Riku again. He either dreaded the potential awkwardness that would develop as days passed and he still did not give the dancer the call Leon was sure he was expecting, or he worried over how much trouble he might have concentrating on anything but Riku's routine.

Thankfully, however, Riku never once commented on Leon's failure to call him. He was still friendly with the brunette, saying 'hello' every night as he walked in, 'goodbye' every night as he left, and occasionally striking up casual conversation – though usually this was rather one-sided. Still, since the head bartender, a busty young woman named Tifa, had returned Leon had found a way to make sure he was busy in the back room whenever Riku was on stage. The boy seemed nice enough, and Leon certainly found him attractive, but it was just that: Riku was a boy, barely more than that. And he was nice enough that Leon knew better than to get involved with him. The brunette was very self-aware, and he knew that he was incapable of opening up to someone enough to satisfy the demands of a relationship. So he'd long ago decided it was best to not even make an attempt.

When the end of his last shift before his day off came, Leon stepped out of the bar gratefully. It was nearly 2am, and he was anxious to get home, shower, sleep, and not have to worry about what time he got up the next morning. He would still rise fairly early, he knew, but he wouldn't have to rush to fit all his errands in before call time at the bar. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, gathering himself enough to safely drive home.

"Hey," Riku called softly as Leon exhaled.

The brunette opened his eyes, fixed them on the dancer and sighed, a little exasperated. "Hey," he responded brusquely.

"Can I, um, bother you for a favor?" Riku smiled sheepishly and Leon realized the boy was ashamed of having to ask for help.

He arched a brow, wondering what it was Riku could need help with, and surprised that he was asking the brunette for help after Leon had clearly rejected him.

"Oh come on," the silver haired boy said lightly, easily picking up on the source of Leon's puzzlement. "If you're not interested, you're not interested. I can take it, I'm a big boy."

Leon snorted. "What's the favor?"

That abashed half-smile found its way onto Riku's face again as he explained. "My car broke down the other day so I've been carpooling with Axel. He had to rush out today though, some sort of emergency, I guess. He seemed pretty flustered. So I promised him I could get a ride home."

"But you couldn't," Squall finished.

Riku shrugged. "I asked Marluxia but he's not very generous. I'm sure I could've gotten a ride from one of the customers, but despite certain poor life decisions," he paused, gesturing back at the bar, "I'm not stupid."

Leon reluctantly admitted – to himself – that he was a little surprised by Riku's sensibility. "I can drop you off, I guess."

The dancer smiled brightly, thanking Leon, who took a moment to actually look the boy over. Riku was dressed in street clothes, for the first time in Leon's experience, wearing a pair of classic cut jeans and a simple black button up shirt. The brunette found it much more attractive than the tight, ripped, sequined get-ups he usually donned on stage.

As they walked to Leon's car, Riku gave him vague directions to his apartment, but the older man knew the city well enough that they were adequate. Once in the car he decided to turn on the radio. Usually he kept it off, preferring silence during his drives, but now he figured that the music would be a welcome distraction from the silence he was sure Riku would expect to fill with idle conversation. When the radio clicked on, however, and dropped them in the middle of a bubbly pop song, Leon immediately regretted this decision.

Riku leaned over and turned the music off. "Sorry," he offered with a small smile. "I don't really like that kind of music."

"Don't apologize," Leon muttered thankfully.

"Not a fan yourself?"

"No."

Riku was silent for a moment, obviously waiting for the brunette to continue. When he did not, the boy asked "What do you like, then?"

Leon shrugged. "Music that's quieter. Softer."

"You're not so good with specifics, huh?"

The bartender kept his eyes on the road, curled his fingers tighter around the steering wheel, and kept quiet. For a few minutes Riku did not speak either, not until they were on his street, about to pull up in front of his apartment complex.

"So I know this will totally contradict what I said earlier, but I'm wondering if you'd mind reconsidering that phone call you never made?" he asked as Leon pulled the car into a parking spot in the small lot next to Riku's building. The dancer smiled a little as he unbuckled his seat belt.

"What?" Leon asked, bewildered both by the boy's boldness and determination.

"I guess what I mean is this: I was okay that you weren't interested in me. It happens, I get it. But you're intriguing, so I'd like it if you'd think about it a little more."

The brunette turned to look at Riku, who was looking up at Leon with an expression of pure inquiry. Leon had had experience with younger men hitting on him before, and in that experience had found that teenagers had a tendency to try and pull tricks on older men. Much like the girls from high school who had tried in vain to pique Leon's interest – not knowing nothing could do them a lick of good – these boys had made eyes, leaned in just the tiniest bit, tweaked their behavior in countless other ways which they thought heightened their attractiveness. But here Riku was, sitting in his seat as casually as possible, merely asking the question that was on his mind instead of beating around the bush and attempting to psychically convey his intentions as most seemed to think was necessary in such situations.

Leon caught himself thinking that this simplicity, this honesty and straightforwardness, was actually incredibly alluring, and tried to stifle the thought with a reminder that despite this small example of Riku's maturity, the boy was still much younger than him.

"But you're -" he started, but Riku interrupted him.

"I'm not a stripper," he said firmly, straightening in his seat. "Not once have I so much as unbuckled my belt while on that stage."

"I wasn't going to say that."

Riku's mouth formed an 'oh', and he leaned forward so that his hair hid his face. "Sorry," he murmured. "I guess…I don't know. I always expect people to judge me because of that place."

In a rare moment of acute curiosity, Leon asked, "Why do you work there, then?"

"Same reason you do, I assume. I need the money."

Leon stared at Riku for a long moment, silently wondering what someone as young as this silver haired boy could need money for so badly.

"I start school in the fall," Riku explained when it was obvious that Leon would not voice his question aloud. "I have to pay full tuition myself, and this was the only job that made that possible."

So Riku not only worked in what basically amounted to the adult entertainment industry, but was also off to university in a few months. The brunette took this as an indication that despite appearances, Riku had to be at least 18. Then, he wondered why it was that Riku had to pay his own way through college.

Clearing his throat, Riku lifted his gaze again to the brunette, and said, "So, what do you say? Will you at least consider giving it some more thought?"

Despite himself, Leon cracked a small smile, and Riku pointed it out triumphantly. The brunette said nothing, though, but it appeared that the dancer had already come to expect this. Riku didn't seem to mind the lack of reply, or even to be awaiting one. Instead, he only laughed and turned to open the door. He moved to step out, but after one foot touched the ground he paused, then pulled his leg back into the car and turned towards Leon. Riku eyed the brunette for a moment, blinking slowly and tilting his head to one side.

Leon cleared his throat, looked away from the boy briefly before turning his attention back to Riku.

The silver haired one leaned forward, placed a hand gently on the brunette's cheek, and pressed his lips to Leon's. Unwittingly, the brunette responded to the kiss; their tongues swept together quickly before Riku pulled away with a satisfied smirk, and slipped out of the car, leaving Leon dazed.

Throughout the ride home, Leon cursed under his breath several times, hoping the action would rid him of the thought of that kiss. In reality, all it did was recall the memory in sharper detail, elicit further thoughts of Riku that first night in Destati, on stage, hips swaying, innocently holding such immense power over his audience. Once home, he cursed yet again, undressing quickly and climbing into bed with the hope that he was exhausted enough to fall asleep within a very short time.

But there they still were; the glimmer of moonlight in Riku's hair, the sharp inquisitiveness of his eyes, the sweep of his tongue against the caverns of Leon's mouth. The brunette's desire pooled, hot in his loins, and he rose and stalked to the bathroom, to shower. Even there, though the water was scalding away the grime of the night, it did nothing to rid him of those thoughts.

Leon tried desperately to banish them. He did simple math, recited monologues long ago committed to memory but no longer needed. Any method he could think of was put to use, however fruitlessly. He botched the equations, skipped lines, thought only of the feel of Riku's kiss - how it had felt in the car, how it might feel elongated, relocated. Leon imagined those lips on his neck, his chest, his cock.

The brunette placed one hand against the wall of the shower stall, hunched over, and moved the other southward, where he worked furiously to finally release himself from these imaginations. Once done, he cleaned up, turned off the shower, dried off, and went back to bed.

Staring up at the ceiling, he thought again of only Riku, though these thoughts were much more innocent. They were not the tantalizing fantasies of the last hour or so, but grim reminders that Leon would do nothing for the boy, could do nothing but hurt him.

And the last thing Leon wanted to do was to hurt someone again.