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There's something different about them this morning, Ethan's dad thought. They were the same as always, chatting and laughing and teasing Jane about something stupid, but he sensed something was different.
"How was the party last night?" he said innocently, trying to suss out what they'd done wrong. He remembered being young and insane and out after dark with his friends. He better remembered Sam at that same age, when she was even wilder than him.
Both boys froze, covertly sneaking glances at the other, and he smirked into his coffee. "You know how it goes, Mr. Morgan," Benny supplied helpfully while his son rubbed the side of his neck.
"Lame music, lots of people-" Ethan mumbled.
"Absolutely nothing good to eat. We left early."
He nodded, not believing a word of it, and watched at they looked at each other triumphantly and hurriedly finished their meals. "Video games wait for no men, right?"
"Exactly," Benny said, wrapping his hands on Ethan's shoulders and basically pulling him out of the chair. "We're going to get ready for school. Come on, man."
That's when he saw it: the dark purple spot on his son's neck, just barely covered by the collar of sleep shirt. He didn't say anything, just watched the boys bound up the stairs, the sound closer to that of a herd of elephants than two gangly boys.
He decided to not say anything to Ethan until after school. He remembered being young and embarrassed by his body, his new found fascination with a blonde named Samantha, and most importantly, by his parents. He stood in the hall, waited for them to come back down. When they did, they had a high flush on both of their cheeks and a glint in their eyes that spoke of something Ross couldn't name. He opened his mouth to wish them a good day but closed it when they brushed right past him, too wrapped up in their own world to notice him, and shrugged on coats and back-packs.
He leaned heavily against the wall, watched his son and the boy he practically raised laugh at something that existed solely in their heads, and he thought back to morning chats and late nights and how he'd never been so attached to one single person in his whole life the way they were; at least, not until Sam.
He closed his eyes, willed the thought he'd thought too many times away, and opened them to see exactly what he didn't want to: the soft look in Benny's eyes so familiar because it was one he'd known, one he'd given many times.
Ross walked away without looking at Ethan. He didn't want to know if he'd see his wife's face reflected back more than ever, with a look he'd cherished and adored etched in the features of his son, his too-young son.
He wanted to feel impotent and useless, like this was something he couldn't help his son with because he'd never felt that way, but he didn't. Instead, he felt guilty because he had felt exactly this way, about Ethan's mother, since they were barely more than kids themselves. He turned back, strode towards the boys purposefully, but fell short with they looked up at him with different expressions on their faces: Benny's possessive and guarding, Ethan's guilty and closed. He waved his hand uselessly, murmured "have a nice day at school", and let them go.
He'd step in when he was needed, and not a moment before.
-----
She wasn't an idiot, despite what Benny and Ethan may kid themselves into believing. Maybe they thought she was deaf, as well as stupid, or maybe they just thought she wasn't home, but they weren't exactly subtle about it all.
"God, Benny," Ethan said. The words she'd heard a thousand times, in various states of exasperated or fond or dumbfounded, but just then, they'd been desperate and breathless and much too telling of what was going on behind that closed door. She had her hand halfway to the doorknob, thought it would only be right to intervene, that the Morgans wouldn't condone this in their house, but she stopped because Benny laughed, shushed Ethan, murmured something too low for her to hear.
She stepped back, heard the creak of a broken bed spring, the rustling of too much clothing and sheets, and she knew listening was just as wrong but she felt rooted to the spot, caught in her indecision.
"Your hands are cold," Ethan snuffled, the smile evident even though she couldn't see him.
"Guess you're going to have to warm them up for me," she heard her grandson say. She almost laughed because that was just like her Benny, to make a joke. She tore herself from the wall, walked down the stairs, and found something to do in her garden.
Later, when Benny came out, alone, Ethan either sleeping upstairs or gone home (it really didn't matter much either way), she smirked at the way he slouched in the lawn chair, happy and relaxed. She passed him her glass of lemonade and watched him take a drink, waiting for the perfect moment to say, "If you boys are going to keep this up, we're going to have to work out a system."
He sprayed lemonade all over himself, almost dropping the glass if she hadn't taken it from him gently. "What?"
"Putting a sock on the door handle or something. Isn't that what you young kids do nowadays?"
Benny gaped, his face caught between denial and abject fear. "What- You-"
"I'm not happy about it," she said sternly, looking at him darkly. "Not because it's Ethan, but because I think you're too young." Benny nodded. "But I'm not going to take it away from you." She thought of a little boy that was growing up without his parents and the thought of taking away his best friend, this person he seemed to care for in more ways than one, was unthinkable. "There's no point in me policing it, anyway. What's done is done, after all." She stroked a gentle hand through his hair. Benny leaned into her touch, eyes slipping shut. "Besides," she grinned mischievously, "it's not like you can get him pregnant."
"Grandma!" Benny choked out, sitting up in his chair quickly.
"Oh, hush," she said, pulling him back toward her. "Do they teach you nothing in schools these days?" Benny whimpered, squeezed his eyes shut, and buried his face in her shoulder. "I love you, my boy," she kissed his forehead. They sat like that until the sun set. They'd save all the hard discussions for another day.
-----
Sarah was an undead vampire. She thought that maybe one or both of them would eventually realize what that meant, beyond fangs and, you know, theoretical immortality.
They'd always smelled the same to her. She knew they lived in each other's pockets, leaving their scents mingled together in a way that was almost inseparable. She could tell if they'd slept at Ethan or Benny's house the night before from the laundry soap. Before the party, though, she'd always been able to sense the subtle difference underneath it. Ethan was sharper, cleaner, something understated and soft. Benny was much more overwhelming; he was spicy and bold, a little shameless just like him.
After the party, they are too intertwined. She could still tell whose house they had come from, Benny's grandmother's perfume too distinct to be mistaken on both of them, but even sitting right across from Ethan at lunch, she couldn't separate out his unique scent without the barest hint of Benny close behind. Ethan was laughing at something she'd said, probably something off-hand, and Benny slid into bench next to him, quirked an eyebrow, and asked what was so funny. She looked him over quickly and saw the way he had thrown his arm casually behind Ethan, a dangerous smirk on his face.
Ethan recounted the joke, waved his hands at Benny, said, "you had to have been here, man." Benny, not looking away from Sarah, stroked the side of Ethan's neck with the back of his thumb, and she could smell the spike in their arousal before she saw Ethan's eyes widen helplessly. She'd already noticed that the bite on Ethan's neck from the party had faded and had somehow reappeared on the opposite of his neck before, and she knew this was Benny's way of letting her know he'd put it there.
She smirked, raised an eyebrow at his blatant possessiveness, and picked up her tray. "As if I didn't already know," she announced triumphantly. Ethan was poking at his lunch half-heartedly, not daring to look at her, but Benny refused to back down.
"Just making sure," he said with a shrug.
She smiled, easy and friendly. "I've always known. Research a vampire's sense of smell." Benny's face fell and she walked away, feeling like the victor in that little exchange.
"That was pretty caveman of you," she heard Ethan mutter.
"Yeah, well," Benny said, uncertain. "You're mine, so..."
Silly boys, she thought. They'll figure it out soon enough.