Weeks had drifted by in a haze for Ryan since Kane had injured him, leaving a head wound that had only recently healed.
Ever since Lucas had saved him, Ryan had become consumed by an obsession. In his hand, he held a zoomed-in picture of Lucas from a class portrait—one he'd secretly swiped from a friend who went to the same school.
His room was where he spent most of his time, a shut-in with no friends, but the thought of Lucas always stirred something within him. He lay on the bed, his fingers gently tracing the image, his gaze fixated on Lucas.
Beside him, tissues were crumpled and discarded. He had been at it for days, his lower body aching from the countless times he had touched himself to that image.
He reached for another tissue, ready to go another round.
Suddenly, Ryan heard the sound of his mother's voice piercing through the silence, calling his name. A groan escaped his lips at the sound of her nagging. His mother was his ultimate annoyance, always urging him to go outside, make friends, talk to someone, get a job. God, sometimes he wished he could just make her disappear.
"Mom, I'm fucking busy!" he shouted, frustration lacing his voice as he glared down at the picture once again.
His mother's voice called out again, softer this time, laced with sweetness. "Ryan, honey, there's a friend here to see you!" Her tone was as warm and patient as ever, the kind of mother who always tried her best to care for him, no matter how he treated her. She was the epitome of kindness, always trying to bring him some joy, even if it meant pushing him to interact with the world outside his room.
Ryan's eyes rolled as he let out another groan. He hated how much she put up with him, her efforts so genuine and yet so utterly misplaced. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone with his obsession. He snatched the picture off the bed, gripping it tightly in his hand, a bratty sneer tugging at his lips as he shouted back, "I'm fucking busy, Mom! Tell them to go away!" His words were cold and dismissive, taking full advantage of her unwavering patience, knowing she'd never truly force him to do anything he didn't want.
Ryan paused for a moment, curiosity flickering beneath his frustration. It was strange, really—he didn't have any friends, so the idea of someone actually coming to see him seemed foreign. He sighed heavily, dropping the picture back onto the bed. He knew he'd be back to his usual routine later, when he could lose himself in the image once more, the obsession never truly fading.
For now, though, he was left with the nagging pull of his mother's insistence, and despite his irritation, he found himself wondering just who could be standing at the door. A mix of reluctance and curiosity filled him, but he couldn't bring himself to care too much. He'd deal with whatever or whoever it was, and once it was over, he'd retreat back into the comfort of his own dark, obsessive world.
Ryan stomped down the stairs, each step heavy with annoyance. His body felt grimy, the sticky residue of days without a shower clinging to his skin. He couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to clean himself—he was too consumed by his thoughts and desires. Every muscle ached from lack of movement, but the thought of just lying down again and losing himself to the image of Lucas was far more tempting than doing something as mundane as bathing.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw his mother, bubbly as ever, chatting away with someone at the front door. She was standing in the way, obscuring his view. Ryan's irritation flared as he stepped closer, the familiar sight of his mother's cheery demeanor only adding to his growing frustration.
Then, as he got closer, the figure in front of him came into view. His heart skipped a beat. The curl of jet-black hair, the pale skin—everything about him screamed of the very thing Ryan had been obsessing over. He felt a sharp, almost painful thud in his chest. His breath hitched. It couldn't be. But it was.
Lucas.
"Ryan," his mother called cheerfully, turning toward him, breaking the trance. "This is Lucas! He's a friend of yours from school."
Ryan's heart pounded in his ears as he forced a grin, trying to mask the sudden surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to kill Lucas or worship him. Either way, he couldn't let the opportunity slip through his fingers.
Ryan's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as Lucas smiled at him, his lips curling into a playful grin. He raised a hand and gave a small, casual wave—just enough to make Ryan's pulse spike, a warmth spreading over his body.
Ryan's mother laughed softly, her voice warm and genuine, clearly pleased by the attention Lucas was giving to her son. "I'm so happy to see Ryan making a friend," she said, her eyes glowing with the hope that maybe, just maybe, her son would finally break free from his isolation. She looked over at Lucas, her smile growing. "It's been such a long time since I've seen him interact with anyone this way."
Lucas smiled back, his expression full of charm. He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between him and Ryan's mother. "Ryan's the best thing that's going to happen to me," he said with a sincerity that made Ryan's chest tighten, though he couldn't quite place why. "I wanted to meet his mother myself, to see where someone like him comes from."
With that, Lucas reached out and took her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, his lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Ryan's mother gasped, her eyes widening in surprise, her cheeks suddenly flushed. Her hand trembled slightly in his grip, a delicate warmth blooming on her skin.
She didn't know whether to feel flattered or faint, but the butterflies in her stomach were undeniable. She could feel the intensity of his gaze as he pulled back, a smile curling at the corner of his lips. It was a smile that said he knew the effect he had on her.
"Where are you from, Lucas?" she asked, her voice just a little breathier than usual, her curiosity piqued. "I've never seen anyone with such a unique beauty around here before." Her eyes traced over him again.
"Some things are better left to mystery," Lucas finally replied, his voice smooth, laced with that same charm. He gave a playful wink, as if to suggest that there was much more to him than met the eye, before turning his attention back to Ryan's mother.
Lucas leaned in slightly, his voice soft but deliberate. "When I was just a small child, my family moved from Russia to the States to give me a better life," he explained, his blue eyes shifting to Ryan's mother as he spoke.
Ryan's mother smiled warmly, clearly intrigued. "That must have been a huge transition for you," she said, her tone kind.
Lucas nodded, his gaze subtly shifting toward Ryan.
Ryan stood there, his posture tense, trying his best to maintain composure. He could feel his heart rate increase.
Ryan cleared his throat, his voice unusually serious as he addressed his mother. "Mom," he said, his tone firm enough to get her attention.
She stopped mid-sentence, looking at him with a curious smile. "Yes, sweetheart?"
He glanced at Lucas and then back at his mom, his voice trembling slightly despite his best attempt to keep it steady. "Could… could we go up to my room?"
Ryan's mother, sensing something unspoken between them, gave Ryan a wink. "Of course," she said, turning to Lucas. "You two boys chat, I'll leave you to it."
Ryan shot her a brief, frantic look as she turned away, then muttered a quick, "One second," before darting up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.
Once in his room, Ryan's panic hit. The mess was undeniable—crumpled tissues, a bin that had overflowed, and the awkward scent that lingered from his lack of cleanliness. His mind raced as he rushed to clean everything up, shoving the mess under his bed with frenzied haste. He grabbed a fresh shirt and quickly changed into it, trying to make himself presentable, though the adrenaline from his scramble left him feeling frazzled.
When he finally felt that his room was somewhat passable, he took a deep breath and went back down the stairs, trying to compose himself before facing Lucas again.
He watched the taller boy step inside, his eyes scanning the room with quiet curiosity.
Ryan's cheeks burned with embarrassment as Lucas took in the clutter, his gaze briefly flitting over the bed, the scattered
Lucas turned to him, sensing the shift in Ryan's mood. "Nice room," he said, his tone light but genuine, as if he were trying to ease the tension. "Feels like you, you know?"
Ryan didn't know how to respond. He barely managed to mumble a response, his voice strained. "Uh, yeah. Thanks."
Lucas tilted his head, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he observed Ryan's flustered state. He took a slow step forward, his presence commanding the room, and Ryan instinctively took a small step back.
"Aren't you curious why I'm here?" Lucas asked, his voice smooth, almost playful, as he closed the space between them.
Ryan's mind scrambled, flustered by the sudden shift in energy. "W-well... yeah," he stammered. "I mean... why are you here?" He hesitated, glancing at the floor before quickly adding, "And why did you lie to my mom? About... about us being friends."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he immediately regretted them."Not that... I mean, not that we can't be friends, of course! I would love that, yeah... totally."
Ryan's words tumbled out in a jumbled mess as he tried to salvage the situation.
Lucas's expression shifted suddenly, his eyes darkening as he reached out to touch Ryan's hair. His fingers brushed gently over the spot where Kane had hit him, and Ryan flinched at the touch, the memory still fresh in his mind.
"I'm so sorry," Lucas murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "That wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for me."
Ryan could have sworn he felt Lucas's fingers press a little harder, almost as if he was silently apologizing with the weight of his touch. His heart raced at the tenderness in Lucas's gesture, despite the lingering tension in the air.
Ryan swallowed hard, trying to steady his breath. He reached up, gently holding Lucas's hand in his. "It's not your fault," he said, his voice a little shakier than he intended. "Kane was just... jealous of you. He didn't like that you were paying attention to me."
Ryan hesitated, then admitted, "Honestly, I probably would have been jealous too if you were my boyfriend."
Lucas let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a smile that revealed his straight, white teeth. "I'm not sure about that," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "But I appreciate the honesty."
"I want to be with you, Ryan," Lucas suddenly said, and Ryan felt himself drawn in, unable to look away from Lucas's gaze.
Ryan swallowed, struggling to maintain his composure. "You do?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His mind couldn't quite process what was happening.
Lucas smiled, the kind of smile that made Ryan's heart skip a beat. "Yes," he said simply, "I've missed you. And what we shared at the party... I want to pick up from where we left off."
Ryan's face flushed at the thought, but there was no denying the longing building up inside him. He wanted this, whatever this was, more than anything. And in that moment, he didn't care about anything else.
Lucas slipped a small piece of paper into Ryan's hand, his fingers brushing lightly against his skin. "Here's the address," Lucas said softly, "Follow it, but don't tell anyone. It'll be our secret."
Ryan looked at the paper, his chest tight with emotion. He was about to nod when something inside him made him stop. He stared at the piece of paper for a moment before blurting out, "I don't have anyone to tell anyway. I'm... a loner."
...
Hours Later
The sun had long dipped.Streetlights flickered to life one by one as Ryan yanked his hoodie over his head and stormed down the hallway, backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder.
His mother's voice followed him from the kitchen. "Ryan, where are you going? It's late. You haven't eaten—"
"Fuck off!" he snapped without turning around, his voice sharp and cutting. The venom in his words left her in stunned silence, but he didn't slow down. He didn't care. Not right now.
She called after him again, softer, confused, "Ryan, wait—"
He slammed the door behind him hard enough to rattle the frame.
Outside, the air was sticky and heavy, like the sky was warning him of something. Ryan unlocked his bike from the side of the house, the rusty chain clattering as he threw one leg over and began pedaling furiously down the street.
He shivered.
As he pedaled through the outskirts of town, gravel crunching beneath his tires, he adjusted his hoodie, wiping sweat from his brow. He'd even tried to look decent. Changed into clean clothes. Put on deodorant and even combed his hair.
When the house finally came into view, his breath caught in his throat. It loomed in the darkness —its windows blank-eyed, the front door hanging crooked on broken hinges.
Exactly the way he remembered it.After all it was the very same house Kane had taken him to.
Ryan slowed to a stop, feet dragging along the ground. His bike wobbled before he kicked down the stand.
Lucas had told him not to tell anyone.
And he hadn't.
But now that he was here… now that the same horror from before was curling in his gut—
His hand trembled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper with the address, just to make sure.
It matched.