Slowly, cautiously, Rusty lowered himself to the couch beside Gem, his paws tightening, then releasing. Tightening, then releasing. Then he said, “Sometimes, it’s less about sex and more about control.” He swallowed thickly, throat working. “And sometimes, it’s just about hurting people.”
“I’m not naive, you know? People think I’m stupid, because I’m pretty and I’m femme and I talk too much, but I’m not stupid.” Gem fisted his many hands, fighting the wave of tears trying to drown him. “I know I’ve led a very privileged life, but I’m not naive. I just don’t understand why some people are so ugly.”
It took Rusty a long time to reply, but when he did, he sounded so much older than his twenty-four years. “Because they can be.”
“That’s not good enough,” Gem said fiercely. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Gem.”
“I know that!” Gem snapped, before taking a breath and releasing it slowly. “I know that,” he said in a kinder tone. “But it’s still not right.”
“Yeah,” Rusty agreed, staring at his clasped hands between his knees.
Choking on a sob, Gem used his hoodie cuffs to dry up the sudden waterfall pouring down his face. “Sorry, I’m extra emotional. I think it’s the drugs.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I get it.”
And he did get it. Because he’d been where Gem stood, hadn’t he? Though Gem feared he hadn’t had anyone looking out for him. He’d had no one to save him, and it made Gem want to rage at the injustice of it all.
“Doesn’t it make you wanna scream?” Gem asked, and Rusty smirked.
“So scream.”
Gem gawked at him. “What?”
Brushing off his pants, Rusty stood and held out a paw, palm up in invitation. “Get up.”
“Why?” Gem demanded, still dabbing at his eyes.
“Do you trust me?” Rusty asked, a mischievous curl playing at the corner of his mouth.
It surprised even Gem how little he hesitated as he slipped a top hand into Rusty’s. He let the Pyclon pull him to his feet and lead him toward the fire escape. Gem followed mutely, ducking through the now-open window, his fuzzy socks soaking up the evening dew on the metal.
Rusty dropped Gem’s hand as he looked out over the unimpressive view of Lust. “Scream.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“But people will hear,” Gem said, looking significantly at all the surrounding buildings.
Rusty shrugged. “Probably.”
“It’s weird,” Gem said.
“Then don’t scream,” Rusty said.
It felt like a challenge, and Gem shifted his weight uneasily, frowning down at the Pyclon. He faced forward and opened his mouth, releasing a short shout into the air. He shot a panicked look at Rusty, who scoffed.
“That was pathetic.”
Thoroughly offended, Gem huffed, “Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a scream expert!”
Instead of rising to the bait, Rusty chuckled quietly and leaned his forearms on the railing. Gem copied him, tucking his lower hands back into his hoodie pocket.
They stood side-by-side on the fire escape, watching the setting sun as Gem picked at the corroded flakes of the railing. Rusty’s eyes had taken on that far-off look he got sometimes, and Gem fought the urge to reach out and take his hand. He had pulled away earlier, and though it made Gem sad, he didn’t want to cross the unspoken boundary again.
“I was seventeen,” Rusty said after several long minutes of silence. “He was a client. He wanted to take me out to dinner, and I couldn’t believe my fucking luck. Ain’t that a bitch?”