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“I've decided that the children on the Isle of the Lost be given a chance to live here in Auradon.”
Ben has been anticipating his parents’ reaction since he decided that this would be his first decree, but when it’s actually happening in front of him, it's so, so much worse.
He presses on, though, despite the absolute fear in his parents’ eyes. He’s been practicing this speech for weeks, after all; a bit of parental skepticism isn't nearly enough to slow him down. He actually manages to get through his whole argument uninterrupted, using words like ‘abandoned’ and ‘help’ to display his point as well as he can. Soon enough, he seems to have at least one of them on his side.
His mother, Belle, the queen, lets her expression soften. “Who are their parents?” she asks him. Ben swallows thickly, and any words of warning get caught in his throat. He supposes there’s no use in beating around the bush, anyway, so he just gets to his point.
“Jafar, the Evil Queen, Maleficent,” a pause, “and Cruella de Vil.” He looks at his parents for a long moment, as a beat of silence falls between the three. (His tailor has left already, having identified the King’s impending anger and done his best to avoid it. It would be a lie for Ben to say that he isn't a little bit envious.)
“Cruella de Vil!” His father barks out a laugh. Ben flinches. “You’re joking, right? Tell me you're joking.”
He shakes his head, taking the risk of tugging a nervous smile at his lips. His father moves to take a step forward, but thankfully his mother is there to hold him back. Her eyes aren't any less fearful, though. Ben’s smile fades.
“Son-” his father begins again, his voice rougher this time than it had been, “are you mad? Do you have any idea what Cruella might do to us if she were to come here? She’d turn us all into coats!” And his tone is incredulous at best as he makes a show of changing forms, the emerging fur tinted grey, and lets out a low, protective growl. (As if he needs to, Ben thinks but doesn't say.)
“Honey-” his mother says gently, and his father’s eyes soften for a moment as she takes back her place on his arm.
“Dad, with all due respect,” Ben starts again, shifting his stance to convey false confidence. “These kids, they… they aren't their parents. I mean, I know that they raised them, but-”
“And just what do you think they teach their kids over there?” his father asks, his pointed teeth bared on each syllable. “Free thought? Individualism?”
His mother moves her weight more towards his father, the places they touch meant to comfort. Belle has never had much say in these matters, as a human, but Ben knows that she has had a say in his father's tantrums. She whispers nothings into his fur until his shoulders begin to slack, and the beast sighs.
“Fine,” he says softly (though the bitterness has not faded), “but I hope you're prepared to be the king that sees all of our kind get killed.” Ben’s eyes hit the floor as he thanks his parents; he has no desire to see their expressions. Hesitantly, he lifts his head.
“I promise you won't regret-”
Both of them are gone.
“-this.”
Ben settles himself on the floor, and once he's taken a look around the room he turns into his own beastly form with a sigh.
Fortunately, the weeks before the children of the Isle’s arrival go relatively smoothly. Ben oversees all prior preparations, both out of a sense of royal responsibility and because his father refuses to speak on the decree. Ben knows he should feel at least a shed guilty for the stress he’s causing his parents- he isn't meant to, but he does hear their panicked voices behind closed doors, voices caught in their throats- but he truly believes in these kids. He knows that they’ll all prove his father wrong.
Well, he hopes all of them will; he has faith in three of them.
This whole thing is ridiculous, he thinks to himself, he doesn't even know their names and he’s passing judgement on them. It isn't fair, and it certainly isn't the way he wants to act once he's king. He just wants these kids to get here already, that way he can stop thinking and start doing.
That eagerness fades the moment he sees them crossing the border. Ben’s stomach drops, his face pale as the hand he holds in Audrey’s tightens.
“Bennyboo?” she whispers, “Are you feeling okay?” She turns to face him and nearly gasps. “Oh, god… you look sick! Here, let me take your-” her hand reaches up to touch his face, but he gently bats it away when he sees the door to the limousine open.
To their credit, the kids make it out of the vehicle in a somewhat organized manner. Well, if exiting in anything resembling an order counts as organized. Maleficent’s daughter is the first to approach, her steps confident if a little reserved. Next is Jafar’s son, who looks like he could have already stolen something (if not everything) though he wears absolutely no guilt. Ben assumes that this is an acquired skill, and one he has zero interest in learning. The Evil Queen’s daughter comes out next; despite the way her height towers over the others, she looks to be the most meek. Finally Cruella de Vil’s son emerges. Ben’s breath catches in his throat, and, oh.
Oh, no.
He’s cute.
So cute, in fact, that Ben manages to forget everything he had to say. Nothing feels like it's happening the way it’s supposed to, like he’s lost in time. It's actually a really nice moment, until Ben notices something else.
Cruella's son has fur on the collar of his jacket.
He wants to be optimistic about this; really, he does, but all Ben can think about is what his parents said to him a few weeks ago. He hates that he's already in a state of perpetual doubt with one of the children from the Isle, especially considering that the entire objective of his decree is to give them second chances. But one of the children is wearing fur and Ben isn't sure but holy shit it looks like it might be real and he's probably never felt this physically unsafe, like, ever. He feels like he can't breathe. He can't find himself on track with anything until, thankfully, he feels a tug on his arm.
He whirls around. “Wh-”
Audrey is staring at him, her eyes searching him through slits. “Say something,” she whispers, and with one hand on his back she shoves him a few steps forward.
“Oh, uh-” he takes a breath, trying his his best to ignore Maleficent’s daughter’s icy glare. “Welcome to Auradon! I’m Ben.” He smiles warmly, even as Audrey nearly pounces onto his back and he can't stop glancing at Cruella's cute son’s collar. Hopefully his shock at the former will outweigh his horror at the latter.
“Prince Benjamin,” she corrects, arms steadying herself from his shoulders. “Soon to be king. Don’t forget it.”
Ben laughs nervously and cranes his neck to look at her, his arms carrying her weight with ease. “Thank you, Audrey,” he says through gritted teeth. Then, regarding the group once again, “Everyone, this is Audrey- princess, daughter of Aurora, and-”
“His partner-”
“Queerplatonic partner,” Ben specifies before he can stop himself. “We aren't dating. I’m single.” Audrey covers her mouth to suppress a laugh from behind him, and he immediately knows he’ll be kicking himself for that one later. ‘I’m single’? Why would he even say that? Well, he knows why- it's a rhetorical question. The only answer he really needs is how he could possibly be such an idiot. Shaking the thought, Ben feels his face heat up as he boots Audrey off his back. He doesn't even need to turn around to know she's grinning. He coughs, hoping to press the conversation past this, and continues.
“Anyway, I can't say I know any of your names,” he says next, because it’s the truth, and because introductions might take his mind off of what an actual disaster this is. He is. “Records were few and far between, I’m honestly surprised your births were even documented! I mean, of course, relations between Auradon and the Isle aren't at a peak, so I guess I’m not-”
“We get it,” Maleficent's daughter cuts off with a shrug, her arms folding to her chest. “I’m Mal.” Ben steps forward and extends a hand to shake, but she is unmoved. She nods to him instead, and Ben would be lying if he didn't feel a bit uncomfortable dropping his hand into his pocket and returning the gesture. He sidesteps to Jafar's son, who says “Jay,” like it might or might not be his real name and then lightly punches him in the chest as a greeting. He doesn't fall backwards, necessarily, but he can still feel the slightest bit of concern in the Evil Queen’s daughter’s gaze as he braces himself with a step backwards.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her. She hears him regardless.
“And I’m Evie,” comes her response, and the voice fits her demeanor perfectly. It’s light, soft, not so much confident as it is entitled. She extends her hand to Ben, which he shakes, but then she continues to look at their digits entwined as if expecting something. He doesn't have any idea what she's implying until she steals a glance at his lips.
“Of… course…” he says slowly, and raises the hand to kiss. Her smile changes with a bat of her eyelashes, and Ben takes that as his cue to move on to Cruella’s son. (If his steps grow any slower when approaching him, he doesn't admit it.) The boy is unresponsive, his focus drawn elsewhere. One of his hands is absently brushing his face where a trail of chocolate sits blended with his dark skin.
Ben keeps his smile friendly. “And you?”
Cruella's son looks up. “What?”
“Your name,” Ben answers, at which point his smile begins to feel more tense. He subconsciously draws a hand up to mimic the boy’s own, mouthing, “Is that chocolate?”
The boy looks down, rubbing furiously at the splotches of sweets on his face. He shoves a hand out in front of him and quickly answers, “It’s Carlos.”
Ben shakes the hand, tries ever slightly to steel himself. “A pleasure to meet you.” He steps back, projects his voice to the whole group, and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. I’ll check back in with you later; for now, your rooms are this way.” He gestures down a path with one arm. Maleficent's daughter- Mal- steps first, further asserting Ben’s idea that she is without a doubt their leader. As they depart, the statue of his father changes to its beast form, as it does on the hour. Carlos stares look up at it, stops walking entirely, and something indiscernible changes in his expression. Ben pretends not to notice. He hangs back, and once the four of them have walked a fair distance away, he flops into Audrey’s open arms with a sigh.
“I’m an idiot,” he breathes, and she tightens herself around him.
“That you are, Bennybunny, that you are.”
The children of the Isle have been in Auradon for just over a week, and Ben is reluctant to admit that he's been spending the entire time in fear of the offspring of his sworn enemy. He is also reluctant to admit he has feelings for a boy who may kill him, but, thankfully, he doesn't have to. Audrey has never in her life failed to know one of Ben’s secrets. She does not choose this instance to break that record.
She approaches him after Heroism 101, pulling him out of the room and into the nearest supply closet. Her expression is filled with purpose as their eyes lock, and Ben suddenly feels two hands clamp down on his shoulders.
“So, how long?” she asks, as if no context is necessary. It isn't, really, but that doesn't change the fact that it's rude.
Ben scoffs. “What?”
“C’mon, don't do this.”
“Audrey I really don't know what you're-”
“Carlos,” she says the name briskly, and there's something unpleasant about her tone of voice. “How long?”
Ben sighs, his shoulders slumping under her touch. “Pretty much since they got here.” He winces, uncertain if he's reacting to his own embarrassment or his partner’s scrutiny. Whatever it is, it kind of feels terrible. “I take it you don't approve?”
He feels her hands release their grip on him. She takes a step backward in thought, a cute little hum escaping her lips as she deliberates. “I think you would make a cute couple,” she answers, her voice still distant and uncertain. Ben feels relief down to his very soul, which he means to keep internalized but apparently voices in a very audible way. Audrey puts a hand up to his mouth to stop the celebration, her expression suddenly firm. “But I also think that he's dangerous and if you do something stupid- don't deny it, you know you will- then you're going to get hurt. I’m here to make sure that doesn't happen.”
Ben reaches upwards to slide Audrey's hand off of his face, and then he wrings his hands together. “So… are you matchmaking?”
“I’m supporting your endeavors in whatever way I can,” comes her response, dignified as if there's a difference between the two. There really isn't, which is exciting if only because Audrey is an excellent matchmaker.
(Ben has always thought it funny that she's so good at it, considering that she's identified as aromantic since she learned the meaning of the word. When he voices this, she always laughs lightly and gives him the same response: “I don't need to experience romantic chemistry to know it when I see it, dumbass.”
He never argues.)
Even with Audrey's support, Ben decides to listen to the part of himself- the part wracked with anxiety, of course- that thinks it's for the best to try and repress these feelings. He's going to be king soon, after all; it isn't as though he has time to deal with a crush (or a potential assassin). So, with this in mind, he completely pours himself into extracurriculars alongside Tourney. He knows that this is a good idea in general because it helps him both to lift his reputation (already spotless, but he wouldn't say so himself) and to better know his future subjects. It’s just… an added bonus that he never has time to think about the son of the largest threat to his family. Really, the only downside is that now he's completely exhausted.
This becomes especially apparent during a fundraiser bake sale for Ariel’s daughter’s medical charges. He’s in charge of manning the brownie table with Audrey, and now he's just waiting for her to show up. It isn't as though she's late; he just arrived ridiculously early (and, yes, it might have been just to eat an early breakfast alone in order to avoid bumping into a certain someone in the cafeteria, but who cares?). Just as he’s thinking about this, he sees Audrey trot up to the table, extra baked goods in hand. He smiles and gives the best of a wave that he can manage.
As Audrey gets closer, she immediately frowns. “Whoa, Bennybear, you look terrible,” she observes, entirely ignoring his greeting. If this were any other scenario he might protest, but yeah, she really is right. He just nods, and he thinks that he says ‘yeah’ but he honestly cannot remember. “I mean, what happened? How many times have you volunteered to help out with things?”
“Like, all the times,” he answers, grinning in a way where confidence pretty much compensates exactly for how embarrassed he is.
Audrey sighs. “Okay, no. If this is about Carlos, you literally need to stop! You're hurting yourself, and it hurts me to watch you do that.” She leans over the table to cup his face, her expression filled with this rare sense of sympathy. It snaps back after a second, though, and returns to a permanent state of righteous anger. “Wait. Tell me you’ve shifted since they got here.”
Ben doesn't answer the question directly, but he's certain that the look on his face does the work for him. He sighs. “You know I can't risk it. If he sees me-”
“What about, I don’t know, your home?” she asks, and Ben’s gut twists. He wishes that he hadn't thought of that idea already, that for a shining moment he felt like he actually had a good remedy to this problem, but unfortunately he’s been walking through the idea of only shifting at home for as long as the Isle Children have been here.
“My parents-” he starts, and he really hopes that he doesn't look as upset as he feels, “they're pretty much dead set against Carlos even being here. If I shift too much at home, they'll know something’s up. And if they figure out what is up, then I’ll never hear the end of it. I have to prove them wrong.”
“I get it,” she says, and even though she sounds ridiculously bitter about it, Ben believes her. “I’m worried too. But your body can't handle all the stress that this form is causing. Please, you know I’m right.”
Ben nods, somewhat despite himself. “You are,” he agrees, “But I can't do it out in the open like this.”
Audrey gives the softest of smiles as she pulls her hands away from Ben’s face with a final, gentle stroke and slides into the chair next to him. “Tell you what,” she almost-whispers, “Why don't you start by just talking about it? And then maybe, if you're up for it, you could shift for Tourney practice tomorrow? The Knights could use your energy.” That isn't something he can really argue with; the team has been lacking in morale lately. Plus as an added bonus, Carlos quit the team last week and practices are private, so. Nothing to worry about there.
“It's a date,” he says, sighing out a gentle laugh. Unfortunately, thinking about the shift sort of takes his body out of the state of denial it's in and, wow, it turns out his whole body aches. He groans, receiving another sympathetic look from Audrey. “I don't get it,” he complains, mind trailing back to Carlos. “I mean, we’re barely even friends.”
“No, it makes sense. He’s cute, you're cute…” Audrey trails off, taking a moment to look out into the distance. She sighs romantically, and when she turns back to Ben there's a spark in her eyes. “It’s a tale as old as time.” She manages to keep a straight face for all of a second before bubbling into a fit of giggles.
Ben rolls his eyes, but can't help but laugh. “Stop.”
She calms herself after about thirty second, but tremor of laughter still shows in her voice even as she holds a straight face. “I’m serious! The relationship between you two would be, like, Type A love story if you lost the transformation and he lost the probable murderous heritage. Y’know, just-” she stops, and soon enough she can't help but giggle once again. “Just a little change, small to say the least.” Honestly, it's almost impossible to hear the joke itself over Audrey's incessant laughter, but Ben's familiar enough with jokes about his parents to mentally translate it all the same.
He cracks a smile, primarily because it's adorable how hilarious Audrey thinks she is. He shakes his head. “Even if that were remotely close to the truth, you're still the worst.”
She points a finger in his direction with a radiant beam and says, “You know you love me.” And she's right, of course, so Ben does laugh a little in agreement. He’s actually feeling comfortable now (if a little - or a lot - exhausted), so he continues to do so with his face resting on his hand until his gaze falls onto Audrey’s face. She's distracted by… something, so Ben follows her line of sight until it falls on a figure in the distance. He really can't see much of anything aside from indistinguishable shapes right now, so he only sees a blur of black, red, and white. He feels Audrey turn to look at him again, and once she does so she immediately stands up.
“Hey, where’re you goin’?” Ben slurs tiredly, the words more into his hand than to Audrey. She understands anyway (she really is the best) and smiles, though something about the gleam in her eyes reads nervous.
“Just... to go hang with Mal…?” Her answer comes off as a question by her intonation, and it isn't helped at all by the fact that Audrey sort of hates Mal. The contradiction of events here is enough to jolt Ben from his almost-sleep, even if it's just for a second.
Ben almost laughs. “You’re going to go hand with Mal, who you hate?” He furrows his brows, looking away for a second to deduce this. “What aren't you telling me?” When he turns back, Audrey’s halfway across the campus field with a few final words.
“Just that I’ve… uh… gottagobye!”
Ben opens his mouth to protest, but he just shrugs. Whatever Audrey's running away from, it's important. That's all he needs to know.
Except that it isn't all he gets to know. Because as it turns out, that colorful blur approaching the fundraiser is Carlos.
And he's heading straight for Ben’s table.
Ben mutters something under his breath that he’d rather not repeat, attempting to straighten up his appearance before it's too late. In the process, though, he makes direct eye contact with Carlos. He smiles and waves.
Well, now he's awake.
“Hey, Ben!” he says, frighteningly cheerful as he comes up to look at the array of sweets.
“Ah- hi,” Ben answers weakly, and it's this exact moment that he realizes how raspy his voice has gotten from sleep deprivation. He sounds awful.
Unfortunately, Carlos notices it too. He frowns, stepping a little bit more into Ben's personal space. As if this couldn't have gotten any worse. “Whoa, dude,” Carlos says, his face knitted with concern. “You okay?”
“Huh, yeah, I’m alright. Just tired,” Ben answers, hoping that that's the end of questions. Luck doesn't seem to be in his corner, though, because Carlos sort of squints his eyes curiously, peering closer.
“No no, I mean… are you okay?” The question hasn't changed, but the shift in implications is as clear as day to Ben. His eyes widen, and he's almost certain that terror rings clear on his face for a split second. He fends it off with a smile, as bright as he can manage.
“Of course, I’m fine!” comes his response. “Why wouldn't I be?” Ben keeps on smiling, the edges of his mouth suddenly sharp and painful. Just keeping it up for this long becomes a difficult task on its own. He starts to feel a bit sick, from what he's sure is not just sleep deprivation. For several uncomfortable moments, neither of them speak. The only sounds to be heard are the distant chatter of other students and the hiss of the cool breeze. Carlos swallows, eyes downcast.
“You don't… have to do that, you know.”
Ben looks up. “What?”
“You aren't fine, I can tell,” he explains, looking up with pure determination in his eyes. Ben opens his mouth, but Carlos answers the unspoken question before he can get it out. “You learn to pick up on lies on the Isle.”
“Ah,” Ben says quietly. “But I-”
“And like, I get it, okay? You're going to be king soon. You want to be a good role model. But like, the thing is, that doesn't mean you can never be vulnerable.
“Also I definitely don't have to be the person you're vulnerable with,” he clarifies quickly, and then proceeds to mumble something that he probably thinks Ben can't hear. And, true, he actually doesn't hear most of it, but the parts he does hear boil down to, “And why would I be anyway, right? I’m the child of a villain,” which honestly despite everything just makes Ben feel bad. Carlos speaks up again before he can say anything, though, concluding with, “My point being, I’m tired of seeing you be Prince Perfect all the time. It’s just stupid, especially because you seem to think that everyone’s going to be mad at you for having emotions.” They lock eyes for a few seconds that feel like an eternity to Ben.
He shakes his head lightly, not because he disagrees in the slightest with what he's been told, but because he can't believe how much Carlos sounds like Audrey. He’s lucky, he supposes, to have people that care about him so deeply. The only problem is that now he's rendered speechless, so he just ends up whispering Carlos’s name in disbelief. They share a moment in silence, then, not unpleasant but really not comfortable either. Ben knows he's overthinking it, but he really doesn't know what he's supposed to do in this time. He feels his body start to tense up, and it might be a result of his obscured vision, but Carlos looks just as nervous. Luckily for both of them, the latter coughs.
“So, um,” he says, and Ben’s attention snaps back to focus, “Brownies. I’ll take four.” It’s a clear subject change, and one that Ben is entirely too grateful for. He laughs, just slightly.
“Four?” Ben asks, raising an eyebrow. “Isn't that a bit much for one person?”
Carlos looks at him for a moment, uncomprehending, and then his eyes seem to widen with realization. “Oh, no! They're not for me. The other day I was with Mal, Evie, and Jay, and we were working in some potion thing for Mal with chocolate but since we kept messing up we made, like, enough to feed a family. So then long story short Lonnie- you know her, right?” Ben nods, an amused smile creeping to his lips. Carlos continues, “Right, of course you do, that was dumb- anyway so she walks in and is like, ‘Wow, you guys, I’m surprised you all don't balance school work with running a brownie bakery or something.’ And, well, that was pretty confusing because none of us knew what a brownie is. I still don't, really, but when I said that Lonnie looked like she was going to hurt me so she told me to come here and buy some.” Carlos is definitely rambling by the end of it, but Ben doesn't have the heart to tell him so. And besides that (as well as besides the fact that Ben is very much a bit nervous for his life right now, as has become the norm), it’s kind of adorable. He nods easily, pretending to have caught most of the conversation.
“Well, four brownies coming right up, then,” he says with a grin, reaching into the basket between them and grabs what he thinks are the best four. They’re all corner pieces.
Carlos pulls out a coin purse - adorned with fur, Ben notes with a slight shake in his breath which he can only hope goes unnoticed- and reaches inside. “How much do I-”
“On the house,” Ben cuts him off, gently pulling Carlos’s hand away from the purse (which he’s very careful not to actually touch, for obvious reasons). Carlos opens his mouth to protest, but Ben stops him again. “Don’t worry about it, I’m serious.” Carlos smiles brightly, gratitude clear in his expression, and Ben wonders if this is why Audrey left so abruptly.
Carlos stares down at the brownie squares for a moment and, hesitantly, he unwraps one of them. He takes a small bite, though its size is nowhere near indicative of how neat it is. He chews for a second, considering, and then his eyes widen to the size of saucers. “Oh- oh my god,” he whispers reverently, and within moments he’s scarfing down the rest of the dessert. There's a ring of crumbs around his mouth that seem strangely reminiscent of when the two first met, but Ben shakes the thought. Carlos, without even taking time to swallow, grabs another one from his pile and goes to open it. He glances up at Ben for a moment and stops, though, instead holding the brownie up to him. “Do you want some?”
Ben stares for a moment, his smile fading and then reemerging with an undertone of nervousness. “Oh! Um, no thank you,” he says, hoping that he comes off casual. “I can't eat chocolate.” It isn't a lie by any means; he just happens to forget to mention that the reason he can't is that half the time it is literally poisonous to his body form.
Carlos looks at Ben like he’d just personally offended him, pulling back the brownie protectively. “Dude, what?” he asks, and it's surprisingly genuine. Ben visibly relaxes once the open piece of chocolate isn't in his personal space, and he laces his next words with a light laugh.
“Do you… not have food allergies on the Isle?” he asks, because that's honestly the only explanation he can think of. Carlos pauses to consider it.
“Oh, well… I’m not sure,” he answers, at which point Ben cocks his head to the side in confusion, because what? “There isn't really advanced medical care.” Ben freezes.
“Oh,” he says, dumbfounded. “Oh.” Ben's mind races; he can't believe that, this close to his own coronation, he's so ignorant to the living conditions of a part of his kingdom. “Carlos, I’m so sorr-”
“It’s fine.” His voice comes off stern, and his body language stiffens. Ben can immediately tell that this is a sore subject. He doesn't want to push it, but he does want to help, and he can't say that he thinks anyone else from the Isle would be willing to talk to him about this, so.
“Carlos,” he quavers, feeling a wave of determination wash over him, “it isn't fine.” Carlos flinches, but he doesn't seem to disagree. Ben reaches over, places his hand on Carlos's arm. “You shouldn't have had to go through that. I- I’m going to make sure no one else has to, either.” Carlos nods. It’s barely visible through the shyness of his features, but he’s smiling. They stay in comfortable silence for a few moment.
“Thank you,” he eventually replies. They’re both smiling, and Ben feels the slightest tinge of heat in his cheeks. Carlos looks down at the three brownies in his hands. “I should probably go- you know how the guys are.”
“Of course,” Ben agrees, patting Carlos's arm before drawing it back and resting it on the table. He watches as he walks away, and once he's guaranteed to be out of earshot, Ben lets out a long sigh.
He is so screwed.
Classes the next day pass uneventfully, save for the fact that Ben is hyperaware of every ache in his body and Audrey is consistently reminding him exactly whose fault they are. Which is fair, really; Ben can't believe he hadn't thought sooner of shifting during practice. It gets to the point that Ben hardly pays any attention during his last class period, which is uncharacteristic of him as someone who is usually on top of things and is also in a position of soon-to-be authority. It works out, though, because he spends all of his wasted time whispering with Audrey and the teacher just assumes they're talking about the current assignment. The bell rings to signify the end of the day, and they both begin to collect their things.
Audrey presses her lips to Ben’s cheek. “I’ll see you later at practice?” she asks. She doesn't elaborate on her emphasis of the word you, and she doesn't need to. Ben is excited to feel comfortable in his own skin again.
“Wouldn't miss it,” he answers, and they part ways to get ready.
Practice starts an hour later, but Ben is there with fifteen minutes to spare. He shifts immediately once he finds out the locker room is empty, and, wow does he feel better. He stretches his body out and leans comfortably against a wall of unused lockers, relief spreading over him.
The other players start to show up a few minutes later. Each one hoots and hollers when they see him in his beast form, because this means that Ben is going to play especially hard and they will, too, as a result.
Coach Jenkins feels the same way, apparently, because when he sees Ben walking out in front of the team he mouths a silent ‘thank you’ to the sky. Ben smiles meekly as he trots over, and Coach Jenkins gives him an excited pat on the shoulder (and a scratch behind the ears, which is kind of embarrassing but whatever. He’s a family friend. It’s fine.).
As for the practice itself, it consists mostly of stretching and drills. They have time right near the end to play a quick game, so they split into two sub-teams. Ben’s team is in the lead the entire time. He scores the winning goal, too; not that he’d ever make a big deal out of it.
(Audrey cheers the loudest as she sits in the near-empty bleachers, populated only by her and a few recently injured cheerleaders. She’s in her full cheer uniform, even though none of the other girls are. Ben waves to her every chance he gets.)
They wrap practice with a huddle. One player tells Ben, “You were a beast out there, dude!” without seeing the irony. Everyone laughs. They all disperse, heading to the locker room showers, no doubt. Ben hangs back until everyone else is done.
He walks into the locker room just as Chad is leaving. He smiles and gets up to greet him, gym bag slung on his arm. Chad pulls Ben’s front paw into a handshake and momentarily clasps the other hand on his back. “You really were great out there, Ben,” he sounds surprisingly sincere. Ben nods, and then Chad has exited through the door where Ben came in. He sighs contentedly once he's alone, and relaxes his shoulders. He’s actually really surprised at the fact that this worked, because considering his family's general luck something should have gone wrong by now.
“Hey, Coach, are you in here? I came to return my stuff…” comes someone from behind him. Ben turns at the sound of the suspiciously familiar voice, and when he sees the familiar figure that goes with it, he naturally falls onto all fours. He can't move an inch.
Oh, no.
“Ben?!” Carlos shrieks, staring at him. “You’re- one of them?” He backs into a corner, and Ben flinches, looking away.
“Please don't-!” he cries, certain that he's going to have to beg for mercy. He really doesn't want to die - he can't afford to leave the kingdom behind, let alone his family - and now Carlos has the entire contents of the locker room as weapons at his disposal. Ben waits for a moment, expecting to feel some sort of stabbing pain in his back, and then… nothing. Hesitantly, he turns his head. “Hurt… me…?”
Carlos is no longer standing anywhere near Ben. Instead, he’s perched himself on one of the benches nearest the corner. He's unarmed.
More importantly, it looks like he isn't breathing.
Ben keeps himself low to the ground as he moves towards him. “Carlos,” he whispers, now painfully aware of how much gruffer his voice is in this form.
The other boy tenses. “St-stay back!” he commands, volume still high. Obediently, Ben moves back a few paces.
“Carlos, I just want to talk,” Ben tries to keep his voice gentle. He looks up at the boy again, and then something catches his eye on the other side of the room. “Wait, here…” he moves over to the farthest corner, closer to his own locker, and returns carrying a brown paper bag precariously in his teeth. He walks forward until he's about a foot away from Carlos, whose body shakes, and drops the bag at the foot of the bag. “Breathe into this, I think you might be having a panic attack.”
“Yeah, n-no shit,” Carlos bites, but picks up the bag and inhales into it anyway. His breaths are rocky and uneven, but hey, at least that's an improvement from no breaths at all.
Ben is still definitely terrified, but he has to work through that. Luckily, focusing on how confused he is sort of helps to mask it. “I don't understand… what are you afraid of?”
Carlos scoffs, his demeanor intimidating even as his body trembles. “You!” he shouts, and Ben’s chest tightens. “All of you! You're killers and rabid pack animals!” His words are only punctuated by short, gasping breaths.
“Carlos-”
“No, no, no,” he’s whispering, but it doesn't seem as though it's intended to interrupt Ben so much as talk over top of him. “I can't believe that you're- after all this time- I was actually starting to think that-”
“Carlos,” he repeats, a bit sterner. This time he snaps to attention. Neither says anything for a moment, and Carlos's breathing begins to still to an almost-normal pace (though the terror doesn't leave his eyes). “Who told you those things about us?”
“My mother… she's a dog expert,” he answers, and, well, huh. Ben was not expecting Cruella's endgame to be making everyone afraid of animals. That would explain all the fur in Carlos's fashion, though; fear would make it a protective armor rather than a savage trophy. Not that that makes it justified or any less gross.
“Ah,” Ben sighs, “and you… believed her?”
“Of course!” Carlos answer easily, his tone more than slightly defensive. “But I guess… we don't really have animals on the Isle to compare her stories to.”
“Tell me honestly,” Ben whispers, voice unwillingly filled with trepidation, “do you think I look like a rabid pack animal?”
Carlos stares at Ben for a long moment. At first he’s definitely frightened to, which is made obvious by the way his shoulders stiffen. But then he relaxes a fraction, and he looks more confused than anything. “Well I… I guess not,” he admits.
Ben can't help but smile at that, even if he has to be careful not to bare his teeth. A silent moment passes between them.
Ben is the first to break it. “Pet me,” he says, seemingly out of nowhere.
“What?” Carlos asks, looking rapidly from his hand to the beast before him. “N-no… I can't.”
“Come on,” Ben persuades, careful not to push. “I don't bite. Most of us don't, actually.” He grins in the hopes that that will seal the deal.
Carlos mumbles something that Ben doesn't quiet catch, and then he’s very carefully moving so that he's sitting on the bench. Ben arches his body slightly, for height. Carlos swallows audibly, a trembling hand reaching out for the top of Ben's head. He just pats the area for a second, clearly uncomfortable, but then his fingers start to move in a scratching motion that Ben really likes. His tail starts to wag behind him, beating gently against the concrete floor. Carlos laughs, and the world feels like it's in slow motion. Even as he hesitates to move around, he's clearly enjoying himself. At some point Carlos reaches out with his other hand, too, and Ben wonders if being pet where he likes by a crush is what heaven feels like. He continues, both of them smiling, and eventually they’ve settled themselves comfortably on the floor. Ben is practically on top of Carlos, which is wonderful for a lot of reasons (one of which may or may not be belly rubs).
Even though most of Ben's physical attributes come from his father, when they're together like this he can't help but feel a resemblance to his mother. He whispers encouragements and nothings to Carlos with her same grace, though for the most part they're relaxing in companionable silence. Really, the area of similarity is his dedication. It feels wonderful to have kindness and comfort payed off with a new ally and friend. Not to say that Ben and Carlos weren't friends before, but… well. He shakes the thought, pulling the smaller boy a bit closer in an embrace as he scratches under his chin.
Ben feels so comfortable, in fact, that he sort of forgets how to keep control over his body. As a result, he shifts without making the slightest effort to. He has just enough time to sit up once he realizes what's happening, but not enough time to explain anything to Carlos. As a result the two are still inches apart, face to face, when Ben is in his human form again.
“Um!” he stammers, blushing, “This is-”
Carlos grins, taking Ben by both cheeks and pulling their lips together. It's short, but Ben notices the intimacy and kisses back almost immediately. They pull apart after what can’t be any longer than two and a half seconds. Carlos's smile is wide and confident, but Ben just feels lightheaded.
“Wait, I don't understand,” his voice cracks on the words, which is not something that he plans to admit to anyone, ever. “How- Why-”
Carlos moves one hand to run through Ben's hair, sliding into the space to press a kiss to Ben's cheek. “As a thank you,” he explains, voice a tender whisper. “You've always been so nice to me, to everyone, so I figured it would be appropriate to return the favor.” Ben nods. “Plus, I thought you were cute like, as soon as we got here.” Carlos laughs self-reflectively, and then Ben joins in, and then they're laughing on the locker room floor and taking breaks to make out and making plans for Carlos to meet more animals that his mother lied to him about.
Ben wonders what his parents will say when he tells them the news.