The ride to Red’s apartment was silent except for directions. Simon found himself looking with interest as they approached the building. It was large and beige and had balconies with glass doors leading to them lined every floor. Despite that, the building was not what Simon would call nice. His car bumped and rattled as it rolled over potholes and cracks. On the building, there were signs of decay that were visible even underneath the new layer of paint. Most of the cars in the lot were neither new nor clean. Red slipped out and through a door in an instant, leaving Simon to swear and straighten his car out by himself.

Luckily though, Red couldn’t move quickly because of his ankle. Simon made a mental note to check it out later; he had forgotten last night.

Simon caught him on the stairs and shrugged one of Red’s arms over his shoulder. The boy didn’t say anything so Simon figured he needed it the help.

“This floor,” he mumbled once they had gotten to the third. Simon opened the heavy door and helped Red into the hall. The inside was significantly better than the outside- clean and sharp scented with pine of some other generic smell, the hallway was painted beige again. No pictures hung on the walls but the doors were painted a dark gray blue that matched the carpeting.

Red led them to a door marked with a shiny ‘308’ and fumbled over the doorframe for a key.

“You keep your key there?”

Red shrugged without meeting his eyes. “I had a key with me last night.”

Simon frowned but didn’t say anything as the door clicked open and Red reclaimed his arm to limp into his apartment on his own.

Simon followed him inside and looked around, aware he was showing the same curiosity Red had about his room. Red disappeared through an adjoining door and left Simon alone in what he assumed was the living room. It was surprisingly nice. It was extremely clean, but unlike the hallway outside, it smelled of citrus and the walls were a pale green. A soft large couch took over most of the room and there was a small table on either side, both with drawers. A painting dominated one wall. Simon was instantly drawn to the painting. It was a painting of the ocean, waves splashing up against a cliff.

Simon crossed the room to look closer. It was an original, he realized with shock. The name on the side was completely illegible, but he doubted Red could afford a painting this large or good.

When he heard shuffling behind him, he turned on Red. “You painted this?” he demanded.

Red looked at him for a moment before nodding. Simon spun back towards the painting. “It’s amazing.”

He glanced behind him in time to see Red smile. The expression had to be the most open he had ever seen Red wear. It made him look gorgeous. “You look pretty when you smile.” Simon flushed. Shit, he hadn’t meant to say that.

Red’s smile faded almost instantly. “Thanks,” he mumbled, not sounding at all pleased.

Simon caught sight of a small form on Red’s shoulder. “Is this Mudpie?”

Red smiled again although this time it wasn’t as wide. “Yep.” He picked the tiny cat off his shoulder. It mewed and started batting at his fingers.

Simon smiled and held a hand out. Red set the kitten gently into his larger hands. Mudpie started sniffing at him. He held still for a moment before he began petting the kitten gently. It started purring nearly instantly.

Claws hooked into his leg and he yelped and jumped. Mudpie went flying as Simon looked down. Red grinned as Mudpie landed on the floor on her feet and looked indignantly up at Simon before stalking away.

Red stooped down and scooped up the thing that had hooked onto Simon’s leg. “This is Bonaparte. Aren’t you a cutie?” he cooed at the cat. The kitten, slightly larger and a lot paler than Mudpie, held his tail high and began stalking up Red’s arm and up to curl onto his shoulder. Red raised a hand to balance him as he stood.

“I see what you mean by bossy,” Simon mumbled.

Red smiled at him. “Aren’t they cute?”

“Adorable,” he said dryly. “I just love getting scratched up.”

“Did he draw blood?” There was barely a change in his expression, but Simon caught the slight  amusement.

“No,” Simon said grudgingly. Brat cat. “Did you feed them?”

Red nodded. “Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a moment. “I’m fine,” Red said.

Simon’s brows snapped down. “I found you face down in an alley yesterday after you’d been beaten and raped and today you’re fine?”

Red just looked at him silently.

Simon sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter whether you’re fine or not. You can’t stay here.”

Red glared. “Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“Not a reason.”

“Then because I don’t think you’re fine. I think you need to go to the hospital and the police. I think you need to get dragged back home no matter how much you dislike your dad and get off the road to nowhere you have been taking.”

“No!” spat Red. “I knew you were just like everyone else! I’m fine with my life!”

Simon just raised an eyebrow. “You’re fine without any respect or a real relationship of any kind with anybody?”

Red just kept glaring. “Yes.”

“You’re fine with living by yourself and having to rely on some guy you don’t really seem to know all that well and with a boyfriend that verbally abuses you?”

Red’s face contorted for a moment before smoothing. Simon thought he was holding back anger for a moment before he saw a tear trickle down his cheek.

“Yes,” he repeated. His voice was quieter this time.

Simon sighed and crossed the room. He cupped Red’s face in his hands and wiped the tears away.

Red stared up at him with large green eyes. He took a step forward. When Red bumped into Simon’s chest, he hugged him. He did this to his nieces all the time. They would get hurt or someone would say a mean word to them and Simon would hug them. They would cry into his shoulder for awhile before bouncing back. Simon sincerely doubted Red would bounce back into instant cheer, but he might feel better.

So, Simon, getting ready for a long wait, gently led Red over to the couch and sat him down, pulling the boy against his side.

After a few moments, Red looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes. The tears were mostly gone. Simon raised a hand to pat him on the back, but Red didn’t give him the chance to do so.

Instead, Red leaned forward suddenly and kissed Simon. Simon’s jaw dropped and Red took advantage, sliding his tongue between Simon’s parted lips and kissing him soundly. Simon nearly groaned. Talented. Definitely talented. He pulled back sharply after half a moment. “R-Blake!”

Red just looked at him and began to lean forward again, hands finding the collar of Simon’s shirt and slipping inside.

Simon stood quickly, drawing back. “Blake, I’m your teacher,” he said flatly. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Red just looked at him, confused. He was still in Simon’s jeans and t-shirt. He tilted his head to the side. “You honestly don’t want sex.”

“No!” Simon shouted. “How could you even think-”

“Then what do you want?”

Simon gaped at him before snapping his jaw shut. “How did you end up so jaded at fifteen?” It was rhetorical question and he didn’t wait for an answer. “I don’t want anything. From you, that is. What I do want is for you to get your life back on track! Go home-”

“-And stop being a slut?” Red cut in, voice bitter. “Tell the cops I got beaten and raped so I can go back to living with my dad? You think that would make everything magically better? It’s my dad’s fault I’m like this! He started pimping me out when I was eleven so he could pay for his fucking Ferrari! He beat me nearly every day and put me in the hospital eight times is a year and a half! The cops didn’t do shit! How fucking stupid do you have to be to realize something is going on? I came to school with black eyes and bruises and hickeys and I got detention! Fucking detention because I was getting the shit beaten out of me at home! Do you really think going back to that will help anything?”

Simon’s eyes had widened further and further as Red spat out his story. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say…”

Red turned his back on him. “You can’t say nothing. Nevermind,” he said, voice rough.

Simon was getting the distinct feeling he was embarrassed about admitting that. But it was too late, Simon had already heard it. “You could tell the police…”

Red laughed, the sound harsh. “Yeah. Sure. Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.”

Simon glared at him. “I’m attempting to help you-”

“You’re attempting to make me go back home or into state custody. You really think I’ll be able to stay here if I do that?”

“That’s sort of the point,” spat back Simon. “You’ll get out of here into a real home-”

“And a real school where I’ll get beaten up for being gay and flunk out in a month! That’ll be real productive to me getting a good future!”

“I’ll send Ad- Vixa out here later. He can talk to you,” he growled, turning on his heel and stalking out.

When he was about to enter the stairwell, a voice called, “Wait!”

Simon turned to see Red.

“You’re going to tell him?”

Simon nodded firmly.

“B-but-”

“You told me and you don’t trust me as far as you can throw me. Mr. Vixa will be able to sort through this with you.”

“But-”

“But what?”

“I don’t want anybody to know.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “You told me,” he repeated.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, looking to the side.

“Have you ever told anyone?”

Red shook his head silently. “I only told Jett I was smacked around a little.”

“I need to tell Vixa. We’ll find a way to keep you in the school.”

“But I…”

“You don’t want him to know, I got it.”

Red looked down. “Is there anything I can do to stop you?”

Simon shook his head. “It’s completely necessary.”

“Nothing?” Red licked his lips.

Simon realized what was being offered. “No!” he snapped.

Red slumped. “Well you can’t blame me for trying.”

Simon glared. “Can too. This is why you need a proper parent.”

Red snorted. “Oh yeah. Someone to call Daddy.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he retreated into his apartment and shut the door behind him.

Simon frowned. He went forward and knocked on his door. “Red, did your dad ever-”

The door swung open. Red peaked his head out and scowled. “No, he was too straight to ever touch me himself. Never seemed to really worry about what I wanted though.” He began to step back to shut his door. Simon shoved a shoulder through.

“What’ll happen if the state decides to put you back with your dad?”

Red gave him a long considering look. He shrugged. “I won’t go back. I’ll just end up on the streets,” he said pointedly. “Homeless. With no job. And only my looks to get by.”

“That’s blatant manipulation.”

Red shrugged and nodded. “Yep. Doesn’t mean its not true.”

Simon sighed. “I have to tell him or the police. Pick one.”

Red frowned. “He’ll just tell the police.”

“Probably.”

“Then I don’t give a fuck who you tell.” Red slammed the door shut.

Simon managed to avoid it just in time. He stared at the closed door and sent it the bird, the only outward sign of anger he felt he could indulge.

In the stairwell, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Vixah’s home number. “Aden,” he said as soon as the principle picked up. “It’s Simon. I found Red.”