Chapter 1

He looked nothing like her. Not a bit.

His hair was brown and curly. Her hair was blonde and straight.

Her face was strong and confident. His was fraught with indecision and uncertainty.

He was lanky and fragile. She was lean and always tensed to brace whatever insurrection came her way.

They were so different, but both of them occupied space in his mind . . . and in his heart. One of them was advancing in rank, though; racing to the forefront of his mind.

'Rusty.' Cappie allowed his mind to speak the name his lips could never form. "Spitter." He grumbled out. His palms viciously rubbed at his eyes, he shook his head as if in a daze.

"Fuck . . ." He groaned.

How did this happen?

When did this happen?

Rusty was Casey's brother. No wonder she never spoke of him; they were so different. He could see their struggle to maintain some form of relationship; it was hard for them. He admired how they tried. Maybe that was when he really started to look at Rusty. He began to see that even though Rusty was fragile he held fast to whatever he was determined to do.

Cappie had been surprised to find out that Rusty had walked out on Lisa, not as surprised as Casey, but still . . . He hadn't given him too much credit.

A big part of him felt guilt for that moment. Sure, he wanted to help the kid, but mostly he thinks it was to get back at her.

She always broke him.

He had wanted revenge, somewhere deep down. He knew it would hurt their relationship if Rusty had lost it to Lisa. Then again, he had never thought Casey would run to save him from that fate. He had felt guilt then. But what he felt now, well, that was something more crushing.

He found himself watching Rusty all the time . . . What would the image be if he had tainted that innocence? What would he see when he watched his every move?

Probably himself.

He didn't want Rusty to be anything like him. God, he would never let that happen.

But what could he do now? Rusty was invading his senses, moving in on his emotions, taking over his actions. It was becoming difficult to resist him. His smell . . . It lingered around Cappie. It drove him insane with desire.

It disgusted him.

It aroused him.

There were emotions running deep in him, ugly emotions; they had flared up after Jen K and brought to a head with Tina. Everyone had high-fived him and put him on a pedestal, he had to force himself not to throw up.

He moved before his brain could register where he was going; before it could tell him to stop. He didn't need logic right now; he needed to be near Rusty. He just wanted to be around him.

"Cappie . . . ?" Rusty sounded groggy. "Mm, 's almost 3." He grunted and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he edged his door open.

"A.M.?" Cappie questioned, laughing nervously. Hm, he probably should have checked the time.

Rusty gave him a funny look before moving out into the hallway and gently shutting the door behind him. "Are you drunk?" He eyed him up and down. "High?" He asked suspiciously.

"I see Dale is still forcing that music on you." He evaded.

Rusty shrugged. "I guess I've gotten used to it." He paused. "Somewhat. Anyway, what are you doing?" He reached his hand out and brushed his fingers across Cappie's forearm. Cappie jerked his arm back.

Rusty's eyes opened wide; confused and hurt. "Sorry." He mumbled and stepped around Cappie.

"No, it's-" Cappie began, his arm searing with heat. "I just got into a little play fight with one of the guys, ya know? He got me good on the arm." He grinned and chuckled pointing to a spot, trying to convince the other boy.

Rusty turned to look at him, considering his answer with sad eyes.

'Ah.' Cappie thought, his lips pressing together. 'Those expressive eyes. That's what they have in common.' He looked down, shuffling from foot to foot.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you. I forgot you had a class at 8. It was dumb, it was nothing. I just wanted to hang. I didn't want . . ."

'To be alone.' He finished in his head. He raised his hands up in defeat, "I should probably get to sleep, too. Don't want to fail and get kicked out. Kappa Tau just wouldn't be the same without me." He maneuvered around Rusty. Halfway down the hall, Rusty's voice called out to him. He paused but didn't turn to look.

"You have so much more potential than you let yourself think." Rusty urged.

Cappie could feel his face scrunch up; he could feel the moisture well up in his eyes. "Yeah, thanks, Spitter!" He called back as cheerful as he could before rushing off down the hall.

"Cappie!" he heard Rusty yell after him, but he left him behind.

He made it back to the house in record time, feeling colder than before. He creaked up the stairs to his room, surprised at just how quiet it was. He shut his door and settled on his bed. Sighing, he flopped back, his forearm resting on his forehead and his legs splayed out.

He wondered if he was ever going to be with anyone who made him happy. He was only good at those meaningless flings, the shallow displays of male prowess. Girls came to him easily and guys just wanted to be around him to get in on the same action. No one ever really stayed. He had always felt so alone before that goof had showed up. He closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep; a sleep filled with blackness and cold.

A sleep filled with Rusty always just out of his reach.