"Are we there?" Leslie wheezed, stumbling from the forest to gaze upon open fields.

"Yes," Simon answered. "Just over that hill." Leslie, like a man in a desert to an oasis, Leslie thus made his way, in much of a like fashion, towards the hill indicated by Simon. "If you've had all that energy all this time, why didn't you use it?" Simon asked.

"Civilization!" Leslie whined, coming to the top of the hill and gazing out into a small valley. 'Albeit, very small civilization,' he thought. "Ah, Simon? How 'bout I just wait outside?" he suggested, sitting on the ground. "You go get Tatiana."



"But you have to meet Rebecca!"

"I will, just bring here somewhere I can fit," Leslie leaned back and pulled out a fag, mainly for sentimental reasons. Simon sighed.

"So I'll just bring her out? How are you going to prepare for the journey?"

"What journey?"

"The one we're going on."

"You mean the one I'm already on?"

"I suppose."

"You're a git."

"I'll pick up provisions for our journey. I suppose you need the rest." Simon left then into the miniature town, and Leslie let out a sigh of relief. He'd have to do something about this limp. It was just ridiculous.

"She's blue."

"Yeah I am, ya got a problem with it?"

"She sounds like a drunk Irishman."

"Oi! I'm offended!"

"Leslie, be nice," Simon chided.

"Wasn't ever insulting her," Leslie muttered, still eyeing the blue Smirnoff. "And why is she blue?"

"Why aren't YOU blue, eh?" the blue Smirnoff cried, launching herself at Leslie's legs, attaching herself and biting ferociously at his thighs. Leslie, upon an initial raised eyebrow, lifted his leg and began to shake it comically. Simon sighed.

"Rebecca, get off Leslie. Leslie, would you keep that cigarette out of your mouth?" Leslie sighed, taking the ciggy from his mouth and putting it back in its box. Rebecca begrudgingly let go of Leslie's leg. "So which way?" Simon asked in the awkward silence following this little incident.

"We're starting towards Dragon Mountain," Rebecca said, pointing generically at the horizon. Leslie blinked.

"Oh come on, you don't have a map?" Leslie groaned.

"Do you?" Rebecca shot. Leslie sighed, leaning against a nearby tree.

"Lead the way, sweetie," he muttered, wishing he had a cigarette to mumble around. Simon coughed.

"Right. Let's get going!" he said with forced optimism. Leslie sighed dramatically, following the two Smirnoffs.

"We'll stop here for the night," Simon said, stopping by a river. Leslie sighed with relief, flopping down on the ground and closing his eyes instantly. Rebecca scoffed.

"You can't be that tired," she huffed, dropping her own pack slowly. Simon glanced between the two and sighed. "Simon, make him take a bath. He stinks." Simon sighed.

"Rebecca, he doesn't stink."

"Oh? But I'm pretty sure he's dirty. . ."

"Oi, that one stung," Leslie mumbled.

"Leslie, please, you're not making this any easier. How about we all take turns taking baths?"

"Ok, but he has to go first," Rebecca said, sounding unmovable.

"Leslie? You get first shot," Simon said. Leslie rolled over, wishing he didn't have to stand up. His limp had cramped his back muscles, making it hard to move. But with a sigh of resignation, he got himself up and lumbered off to find a more secluded area of the river. Without much more care he stripped himself and dipped his toes into the river. Taking a deep breath, he spread his legs and felt between them, wincing. He withdrew his fingers to find them coated in newly spilled blood.

"Great job, Leslie. Break the damn scab," he muttered, washing his fingers off in the river and then stepping into the cold water. He shivered, and sighed as his blood floated away. He sank further into the river, contemplating just floating down forever and ever. "You're so awful," he whispered to himself. "Not even you can stand yourself."

Leslie limped back to camp and flung himself on the ground, hoping for a good night's sleep. Instead, Simon had other ideas. "You know, I was thinking, since we hit it off to a sort of blunt and rough introduction, why don't we all talk about ourselves?" he suggested. Leslie and Rebecca both groaned. "Buck up you two. We'll each share something special and personal, so we can all get to know each other better."

"Like what? First time getting laid?" Leslie asked.

"If it was special and personal," Simon said. "Here, I'll go first." Clearing his throat, and making sure he had their attention, he began his story.

'I can't really think of anything off the top of my head, but a little tale involving my dear mother comes to mind. It was a bright sunny day in August, and the heat was oppressing. My father was away to another Smirnoff town, and my little sister had since been married, so it was just me and my mother at home. I walked into the kitchen, streaming with sweat, and she was at the counter, making cool lemonade for us. "Sit yourself down, dear," she said "I'll have this made in a moment." I did as she bid, sitting down at our table and awaiting the cool refreshments to come.

'My mother eventually finished with the lemonade and brought it to the table, sitting across from me and smiling benevolently. "Let's have a little chat, ok?" she said.

"All right," I consented.

"Why have you not taken a wife?" she asked. I thought of this a while. I knew the answer, yet I wondered how to impart the information kindly upon my poor mother.

"Isannah has a husband," I said slowly. "And they love each other, because they feel an attraction to each other. I'm sorry, but I don't think I would feel such an attraction to a wife." My mother pondered my words, and smiled gently.'

Leslie choked on his cigarette, which he had been chewing on, and had tears rolling down his face as he coughed and spluttered. Rebecca just stared. Simon smiled genuinely. "That's something personal," he said. "Can't you just feel the trust growing?"

"Someone better slap Leslie's back," Rebecca said slowly. Simon got up and patted Leslie's back until he stopped choking. He turned, eyes wide, to Simon.

"You're a gay Smirnoff?" he asked. Simon nodded.

"Yes." Leslie lost his shocked look and rolled back over onto his back. "All right, Rebecca? Leslie? Either of you want to share something?" Rebecca and Leslie remained silent. "It's all right. I know we're all tired. There's always tomorrow though." Simon lay down on his makeshift bed, closing his eyes peacefully. Rebecca, after a silent, awkward moment, did the same.

Leslie snuggled up to Garrett, after they had come off of their high of pleasure. Garrett chuckled, wrapping his arms around Leslie's waist, squeezing his ass lightly. Leslie didn't blush nor squeak, as Garrett had hoped. "Was that your first time?" he whispered. Leslie hesitated, then shook his head.

"Nah, I wasn't a virgin. Did you think I was?" Leslie replied. Garrett chuckled.

"Do I want inquire further?" he asked. Leslie shook his head.

"No." Leslie snuggled closer to Garrett's naked body.

"You seem affectionate today," Garrett noted. Leslie hummed lightly, not commenting. Garrett chuckled again. "It usually takes me so long to get you to display emotion."

"Hmm. 'M not emotional," Leslie mumbled.

"Do you want to go home tonight, or are you going to spend the night?"


"You don't like going home, do you?"


"Why not?"

"'S not fun," Leslie mumbled against Garrett's soft, perfect skin.

"Aw, that's too bad. But you can come over any time you want, all right?" Leslie smiled awkwardly, still not accustomed to being this happy. Garrett smirked, kissing Leslie's forehead.

"Thanks," Leslie whispered.

"Leslie, we need to talk," Garrett said seriously. Leslie leaned against the wall surrounding his school and shrugged. "It's about your job." Leslie blinked, and reached inside his coat for his fags. "Leslie, please don't smoke. Can't we just talk about this?" Leslie sighed, replacing the box. He usually didn't listen when people asked him not to smoke, but this was Garrett. "Why do you do a job like that?"

"'S easy," Leslie muttered. "Haven't done it in a while, though. Not since. . ."

"Since when?"

"I met you. 'S not a big deal, Garrett."

"It is a big deal, Leslie. How could you work as a whore?"

"'S sort of easy."

"Leslie, I don't care how easy it is. You can't do things like that." Leslie bowed his head, wondering why he felt like crying. He hadn't cried in over ten years.

"All right, Garrett," he said softly.

"How did you start working like that anyway?" Garrett demanded.

"Needed dosh. Just had to get on my knees and open mah mouth." Leslie sighed. "How'd you find out, anyway?"

"That doesn't really matter." Garrett stepped up closer to Leslie. "Just don't do it anymore, all right?"

"All right." And they kissed.

"Leslie, can we chat?" Devin asked. Leslie sighed. Did everyone had to suddenly have some strange insight into his life?

"'Bout what?" he asked, reaching for his cigarettes.

"Put those damn things away, Leslie," Devin spat. But unlike being questioned by Garrett, Leslie felt no obligations to follow his older brother's command. Devin sighed, snatching the cigarette from Leslie's mouth. "I heard from Carrie where you've been working." Leslie looked down at his brother.


"Leslie, you have to stop it," Devin said firmly, hands on his hips.

"I haven't done it in a while," Leslie muttered, still looking forlornly at his cigarette.

"Why did you feel the need to work as a whore?" Devin asked, a bit crestfallen. Leslie blinked down at Devin. He was dressed in a cute skirt, that showed his hairless legs, with a frilly shirt that made him look quite like a girl. His blonde hair was in two braids, the tips brushing his shoulders. He had just enough makeup on his face to make him look like a convincing woman. "Leslie, please, I know this is hard, but we need to get through this, all right?" Devin said, looking sympathetically up at his little brother.

"I have a boyfriend," Leslie said suddenly.


"Once I met him, I stopped. I'll get a normal job, all right?" Devin sighed.

"We're going to have to get you tested. What would happen if you had any diseases?" Leslie knew what Devin meant. 'What would they think? What would they think about me, being your guardian and all?'.

"Sure," he muttered. "Testing."