Archive of Our Own

Transylvania 3: The Castle’s Corridors wasn’t exactly a romantic game, but it nevertheless flickered on the monitor as Ethan and Benny explored their first kiss. Maybe it was simply a coincidence. Maybe it was related to the vampires they were attempting to defeat onscreen, artificial hissing sound effects that Ethan continuously flinched at.

They weren’t at all surprised that it happened while bathed under the flashing, vibrant red-and-blue lights, darkness otherwise nestling into the room’s corners. Video games brought them together-- and then even closer together because Ethan had never upgraded from one chair. They never spoke about it. If they wanted, it would be quite easy to bring up one from the kitchen. Instead, they either squeezed onto the antiquated, ripped chair together or crammed themselves onto the end of Ethan’s bed. Their shared body heat kept them awake longer to game (or that is at least how Ethan rationalized it in his mind).

Kisses were an unforeseen territory for Benny. He’d thought about it before, maybe, and visualized the tender caresses and intimate understanding it brought. Ethan was the only one with experience: a few pecks and a handful of smooches with Sarah when they met up at lunch or she left Ethan’s house after babysitting. He wasn’t an expert, but he had more defined dexterity... Benny chose to not think too much about it.

A particularly feminine, young vampire had just been slain by the weaponized stake-cross in Ethan’s avatar’s hand, and then his lips were on Benny’s. Ethan’s body twisted awkwardly, hand still on his controller, nose bumping into Benny’s as he idly remembered that he hadn’t applied chapstick that day. It probably didn’t matter. Benny kissed him back regardless; it wasn’t perfect, but they both tried all the same. Teeth clashed and little moans came out and Benny’s warm hand came to rest on the small divot of Ethan’s back and it was-- it was intimate. Just as Benny had hoped.

When Ethan pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wide, he coughed and ducked his head, both accepting and dismissing their shared moment. Benny stared at him, besotted. He couldn’t form a joke at that moment, but maybe, despite it all, nothing needed to be said. An abstract idea of trust flittered and he cupped it just beneath his palm.

//

On most days, Sarah smelled like coffee, plain and enticing. She didn’t need the added caffeine boost anymore, but it was an old habit of hers that was too nostalgic to kill off. Strong coffee was her favorite: dark brown with a spoonful of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon to make it bearable, but not overly sweetened.

Ethan occasionally stopped by the corner store to buy her an americano when he had spare time in the morning (which wasn’t too frequent, but he made an effort). Benny waited outside and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets until the material couldn’t be stretched any further.

//

Benny had a permanent sleeping set-up at Ethan’s house that consisted of a tattered Charizard blanket, a black-and-white panda pillow pet, and a blue, plaid sleeping bag. Ethan stored it all in the back of his closet, half-folded and half-shoved in order to fit right. He absent-mindedly kept the rectangle of floor on the right of his bed clean.

On humid summer nights, that set-up included a small, white fan with a power cord just long enough to position it next to Benny’s face. On the chilliest of winter nights, he borrowed one of Jane’s many High School Musical blankets (which were surprisingly soft, if he was to be honest). And if he snuggled a little closer to the frame of Ethan’s bed on those nights, it was never discussed.

After an uneventful Friday night of cheap horror movies and marshmallow eating contests, Ethan didn’t open his closet door like usual. He didn’t follow the routine: walk up the stairs, go into his room, open his closet door and chuck the sleepover equipment at Benny while laughing his ass off. This time it was quiet. Ethan shrugged off his slippers and kicked them next to the nightstand, perching on the bed and gazing pensively at the glow-in-the-dark stars that decorated his ceiling-- anywhere but Benny’s eyes.

He let out a half-hearted joke about how he had already warned Ethan that he’d have a sugar crash after shoving down a hundred jumbo marshmallows, moving to the closet door. He didn’t reach the door before Ethan’s hands were swallowing his, pulling him back to the twin bed that shouldn’t be able to fit two teenage boys-- but, somehow, it did.

Those green-ish white glowing stars were even more dimmed from a couple of feet higher.

//

They were Physics table partners. That’s how it always was; they scheduled their classes together, claimed seats together in the back on the first day, and insistently petitioned to get lockers close to each other. It was easier that way.

Science was simple; they both had an affinity for it (sometimes too much).

Chemistry was difficult solely because of Benny’s clumsiness and Ethan’s enthusiastic experimenting that, although usually successful, never seemed to excite their teacher as much as him. Benny liked to watch him work with a serene concentration: measuring out the liquids and metals precisely, always gentle with the equipment.

Biology was a breeze for them both, although Benny learned to never let Ethan have free roam near a microscope. They attained quite a few detentions from Ethan’s incessant curiosity.

In Physics, Ethan was more reserved; he loved math, obviously, but didn’t approve of the dependency physics had on it. Most of the lessons were teeming with trigonometric, algebraic, or kinematic equations, yet he just yearned to explore. To identify samples, splice cells, test varied environmental impacts applied to different types of bacteria… Benny wanted to explore as well, but not always science; most of his lessons were spent staring at Ethan.

And, of course, Ethan hadn’t intended to ditch him. It just so happened that on the one day that Sarah’s lab partner was absent, Ethan was coincidentally complaining about his eyesight and had to move up a few rows. That was normal. He had decent vision, but sometimes it could act up…

Benny sat in the back and rubbed his eyes.

//

Very few things were more important than an OMAX 40X-2000X LED Binocular Microscope or a signed copy of Neil DeGrasse Tyson’s Death By Black Hole, but nonetheless, the Muse-a-tronics’ haphazardly-burned CD proudly sat between the two on Ethan’s mahogany bookshelf. Around it was a clear case with neat, cursive writing that commemorated the day Ethan, Benny, and Rory had kickstarted a band (even if it was only because a vicious siren was tainting their school). Ethan wasn’t an avid cleaner, but he never let that particular shelf accumulate more than a speckle of dust.

The lyrics were more cliche than anything Benny could’ve ever dreamt up, a mash-up of the most popular verses in the top charts, yet he still found himself softly humming them to Ethan while curled up on the couch watching an old sci-fi movie neither of them cared much about. Benny granted him a soft, shaky grin as the chorus started, lifting an arm around Ethan’s shoulders so that their heads could fit directly against each others’.

Muse-a-tronics had decided to use a metallic auto-tune to enhance their hip intentions and increase the possibility of creating a successful song but now Benny simply sang with his raw voice. He nearly hesitated when the bridge began again but Ethan pulled him closer, flush creeping up his ears, and it felt right. So, so right.

At one point, he was sure he went off-track somewhere (because the song surely hadn’t lasted three commercial breaks in the original) but as his quiet humming and gentle singing continued, a cozy warmth settled throughout the house. He restarted the chorus repeatedly, gambling precarious hope that their precious moment would never lose its cadence.

//

The summer of fifth grade, Benny and Ethan learned how to layer thin filo dough perfectly between diced pistachios and sheets of crushed zwieback crackers. They absorbed the careful techniques with wide eyes, hesitantly drizzling thick honey just enough to sweetly combine the ingredients, but not so much that it would collapse in serendipity. Grandma Weir taught them the diligent movements of frugality: too much sugar and it would slump; too little sugar and it would crack.

Ethan would bite into the baklava, grimace at its breadiness, and give an apprehensive thumbs-up. Although he appreciated it then, there was something unsettling about barely-sweetened dough baked past crispiness…

Benny scarfed it down in greedy heaps. He would slip in whipped cream behind his Grandma’s watchful eyes, generously doling it on Ethan’s platter with a wink before emptying the rest of the can over his own serving. Blissful-- absolutely blissful is what Ethan recognized it as now, rather than his previous label of a homely summertime activity or bittersweet annoyance.

Occasionally, during school, he would awake out of an afternoon daydream: eyes wide and seeking foreign concepts, trying to huddle close to his memories as much as possible. The others would ask if he had seen a vision-- no. He wished he had. Simplicity in the notion. He cracked his knuckles like burnt pastries and continued.

Saturday evening, after Sarah had left several hours ago with glossy lips and doe eyes, he called Benny over for a “Boys’ Night.” He insisted that Benny bring his Grandma’s recipe book. Benny agreed without hesitation; food was acceptable in all situations without exceptions. Desserts were even better.

The day ended with honey dripped on the tips of their noses and pistachio bits crammed into the oddest of locations, but it was… Sweet. Fine. Benny laughed and tugged Ethan closer, teasing him for trying to use a rolling pin to spread out sugar, his encompassing grin never leaving. He was decadence itself, yet Ethan still couldn’t find what they had so long ago-- blithe summerland of childhood. There was no cold cream to soothe his worries or night lights to drown out the nonexistent fears-- not anymore. So, he hugged Benny tightly, mind far, far away, inhibitions tagged haphazardly.

//

When they were younger, love was indistinguishable from their everyday lives; Ethan loved Benny the same as he loved Jane or his parents or the ice cream truck driver he passed by every Friday on his bike. Love was surrendering the last gummy worm in the bag; love was raindrops tiny enough to be fluffed into snowflakes; love was folded towels and cherry suckers and Disney reruns and--

Everything was love.

In first grade, the first time Ethan moved his sticker to red, he came home to smiling parents with gentle hugs and understanding words. He hadn’t stood up for ‘Calendar Time’ because the kid who was in charge of it was a know-it-all, and Ethan knew the days of the week anyway. It didn’t matter much; his sticker would be back on green tomorrow morning coupled with a shiny, fresh start. Unconditional love.

//

It hurt less if he avoided it, Benny discovered. If he sat at the end of the lunch table. If he kept his headphones on during passing periods. If he recited the Latin alphabet in his head every time he saw Ethan hugging Sarah, over and over and over until–

He was becoming considerably better at understanding Latin, at least.

There was a new cheerleader. Benny couldn’t remember her name. Rory elbowed him every time she walked into the lunch room, wide eyes and slack mouth, asking Benny endless questions– Do you think she has a boyfriend? What grade is she in? Do you think she’d like me?

But Benny couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ethan (leaning into Sarah’s space, offering her his pudding cup, laughing at everything she said–) for anyone. Ethan’s eyes met his, briefly, a questioning look in them– asking if Benny was alright. Benny choppily nodded and tore away his gaze.

The ever-teeming bedlam of resigned thoughts swam laps in his head. The cold waves ebbed and flowed, never granting him a moment of reprieve. As much as Benny wished the questions would dissipate, that the sun would eclipse the moon’s tidal current, he wasn’t ready to answer the questions yet. He wasn’t ready for dawn to approach and illuminate the sea. He wasn’t ready to see the sharks in the ocean.

So he sat back, dug his fork into his pasta, and let his agitations crash against the beach.

Does he care about me? Does he know I love him? Does he know that he’s breaking me?

//

The new Spiderman movie had just been released in theaters. Benny had been looking forward to it for months, theorizing about what characters might appear. He made a bet with Rory that Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield would return; he was so confident, he bet all of his gelt. He’d made a plan with Rory and Ethan to see it as soon as it came out, but now that felt like a forlorn dream. He remembered the picture taped inside Sarah’s locker, 10-year-old Ethan dressed up as Spiderman with plastic “web-shooters” encircling his wrist and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Benny sat on his bed on opening night, staring at his star-less ceiling and replaying the trailer in his head. He thought about the scene of MJ falling through the sky, her hand reaching up, furrowed brows and open mouth pleading for someone to catch her– and he wondered if Spiderman would be quick enough this time. He thought of Andrew Garfield’s Spiderman who had found his person, his peace in a chaotic world, the only person that made him feel whole; who wasn’t fast enough to catch her, who let her just barely slip through his grasp. He wondered if he had held Ethan just a bit tighter, would he have stayed?

His window rattled, too insistent to be a branch. Benny got up from his bed and slowly undid the latches, slackening his face into his trademark smirk and raised eyebrow.

Rory was hovering outside his window, holding two tickets to the movie with an eager grin.

Benny shook his head, claiming he had tickets tomorrow. Truthfully, he’d resigned himself to not seeing the movie at all because he couldn’t let himself see the movie without Ethan. They’d been to every Marvel movie together for as long as he could remember. And if he asked Ethan to see it now and Ethan rejected him, well– He decided that it was easier to stay at home and dream of what it might have been like.

Isolation as a form of punishment; he didn’t know if he was punishing Ethan or himself.

Rory just rolled his eyes and said that it would be so good, he would be lucky to see it twice. He flashed his fangs briefly, playfully, telling Benny to meet him at the front door. With a gust of wind, he was gone.

Benny briefly considered draping himself in garlic bulbs and placing UV ray sabers around the entrances of the house, but he quickly frowned and dissipated those thoughts. He may be hopelessly in love with Ethan, but Rory was his friend and didn’t deserve to be pushed away due to his self-imposed angst.

He grabbed a fanny pack (he didn’t care if it had belonged to his Grandma in the 90s and had fallen out of fashion, it was the best way to sneak candy into the theater) and stuffed it with chocolate coins and gummies. He doused himself in a lethal amount of cheap cologne, certain that his day of lounging around in his room and ruminating on his lost MJ was pungent.

Rory was waiting for him when he opened the door, wrinkling his nose and complaining that vampires have an enhanced sense of smell. He held out his arm; Benny refused, swatting Rory’s hand away and reminding him of how he’d lost his lunch the last time Rory flew him.

They walked to the theater instead. Rory was beyond excited, ranting to Benny about how he’d watched Andrew Garfield’s recent interviews and his vampire senses told him that his refusal of being in the movie was true, and he was about to be so rich with all of Benny’s gelt, and how the MCU was anti-vampire because Spiderman didn’t have fangs like a real spider, and how he was planning to go to Marvel headquarters before the next Spiderman movie and vampire-hypnotize the director into giving Spiderman fangs, and Benny are you okay you don’t seem like yourself is this about Ethan?

Benny blanched, stumbling over his own feet. He shook his head vehemently. Rory may be innocent, but he was a perceptive little shit.

Rory continued talking, concern tightening his face. He wrapped a hand around Benny’s upper arm as Benny started walking again, rooting him to the spot. He told Benny that he’d noticed something wrong recently and thought seeing the movie together might help. He didn’t want to pry, but he couldn’t let his best friend suffer.

Benny’s eyes were lost in the stars, his mouth quirking. His lips opened and everything spilled out, having been cradled and pressed to his heart for so long. He told Rory how he didn’t know it was love until he felt his heart breaking. He told Rory how beautiful being in love is and how splintering it is to love unrequited. He told Rory that he just needs time to heal and forget.

Rory stood still for a few moments, processing. He told Benny that Ethan loves him too, he’s sure of it. Friends don’t look at each other the way Ethan looks at Benny.

Benny shook his head, shrugging Rory’s hand off his arm. He simply told Rory that he deserves more than being a backup plan.

Rory was silent the rest of the way to the theater. He bit his lip and stared craters into the sidewalk, lost ferociously in thought.

Just before the movie opened, as the lights dimmed and screen faded to black, Rory leaned into Benny’s side and quietly asked him if he remembers The Amazing Spiderman 2. 

Benny nodded.

Rory murmured that a quote from Gwen Stacy stuck with him for years: There will be days where you feel all alone, and that's when hope is needed most. No matter how buried it gets, or how lost you feel, you must promise me that you will hold on to hope .

//

He probably should have said no. He probably should have crafted an excuse about English homework and ducked Ethan’s invitation to sleep over, but Rory’s– or, rather, Gwen Stacy’s– words rang through his head. He had given up his hope the moment he’d needed it most.

Benny cleared his mind from his aching doubts and allowed an abstract intention of hope to sublimate. He took several deep breaths and grounded himself to the present, barring any woes of the past or worries of the future.

When Ethan opened his door, grinning, Benny’s reciprocant smile wasn’t forced.

They watched the new Spiderman movie that night, sharing a popcorn bucket and fingers slightly touching on the armrest (but never intertwining). When the movie ended and they waited for the end credit scenes, Ethan gently curved his hand around Benny’s cheek and slid Benny’s head to face him.

Benny’s breath caught, unsure if he should push Ethan away or tug him infinitesimally closer. For a few slow seconds, their breaths mixed, staring into each other’s eyes.

Ethan softly smiled, murmuring that he was proud of Benny for managing to not spoil anything. He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on the small space between Benny’s eyebrows, stroking his thumb along Benny’s cheek for a few seconds before pulling back and returning his attention to the credits.

//

Later, after many hours arguing over the future of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and playing video games, Ethan dragged Benny to the kitchen. It was well into the night, house dark and silent except for the occasional snore.

Ethan was murmuring something about hot chocolate. He normally didn’t eat at night (something about indigestion and sleeping problems) but tonight he made an exception on the basis that drinks didn’t count. He pulled the cocoa mix out of the cabinet, peering up at Benny with a wink as if he were committing a crime, and grabbed a holiday mug.

Benny was content to lean against the counter and watch as Ethan meticulously made his hot chocolate, but as Ethan opened the fridge and reached up for the milk, he paused, pivoting towards Benny and instead wrapping his arms around Benny’s neck, big eyes and a mischievous smile.

Benny’s hands automatically went around Ethan’s back, clasping together tightly.

Ethan stepped back, bringing Benny with him; in the dim light from the refrigerator, he aligned their hips and tucked his head in Benny’s neck, slowly swaying from side to side. He hummed a tune under his breath, too faint for Benny to decipher.

They softly danced, effortlessly in sync. Maybe it was from years of being each other’s dance partner at school functions; all the years they had grown together, absent-mindedly harmonizing with each other until they matched each other perfectly. Like they were meant to be.

That thought made Benny tense for a second. He quickly covered up his apprehension by holding Ethan tighter and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

They spun around the kitchen, bathed in the white light, gradually evolving into a simple, devoted rumba, moving with each other so intimately– a sacred prayer. Ethan pulled back just enough to look at Benny, a deep passion clear in his eyes that startled Benny. Ethan looked at him like he was the only one in the world–

But Benny knew that those eyes only ever appeared in the still of night, when no one was around.

Despite how well they moved together and how tenderly they caressed each other, Benny held Ethan like an oath and Ethan held him like a secret.

//

As soon as the sun had broken free of the horizon, Benny had slung his bag across his shoulder and walked back to his house. Ethan called him multiple times since; Benny didn’t have any hope left to answer.

The rest of the weekend crawled by achingly slowly. Benny finished all of his homework, cleaned his room, beat the Ender Dragon half a dozen times, and still had droves of free time that plagued his despondency.

The way Ethan looked at him… Benny convinced himself it was a promise and watched it break again and again in casual cruelty– in utter honesty.

//

He faked illness Monday. His Grandma knew; she pursed her lips and told him that if something were meant to be, it would happen. But she let him stay home.

Rory was tapping outside his window after school had ended, giving Benny the worksheets he had missed. He sat on Benny’s bed; too quiet, too solemn.

Benny nudged him and gave him an expectant look.

Rory met Benny’s eyes and sighed, telling him that Ethan was wearing his striped beanie today. The one he’d left at Ethan’s house. Told him that Ethan was pensive the entire day, asking the others if they knew where Benny was.

Benny thanked him for the worksheets.

//

The snow stuck to the ground. The first snowfall of the year. It was quiet; late at night and hardly anyone awake, only the moon out to keep Benny company as he sat under his favorite tree in his backyard and watched the snowflakes fall.

He’d never had much interest in weather, but he admired how beautiful it was. How peaceful the night was, white flakes draping the world in tranquility. Soft coats of snow, not yet compacted by boots or rolled up by hands. Everything just… was .

The snow slowly covered his roof, blanketing it in a calm innocence. Covering the torn shingles, painting over the discoloration, enveloping the individuality. It soon looked like every other roof in the neighborhood.

The tree was vast, protecting him well, but a few stray snowflakes still nestled into his hair and caught the tips of his fingers, instantly melting.

Snow softly crunched behind him, barely audible. He kept his gaze on the clouds.

The person softly settled beside him, not touching but close enough to share warmth.

They sat in silence for a long while, cherishing the first declaration of winter. The snow came down heavier, accumulating on every surface available. Rising indefinitely. A hidden beauty that so few saw; by the time the world was bustling, the snow would harden or melt into a forgotten puddle.

Benny glanced at Ethan, who was holding his hand out from the foliage just enough to collect a few snowflakes.

“I just miss you sometimes,” Benny finally said, his voice piercing against the silent night.

Ethan looked at him, contemplative.

“I haven’t left.”

Benny stared into the sky. He let out a mirthless chuckle, his laugh not quite reaching his eyes.

“No, you’re right. You’re right.”

“What’s wrong, B?” Ethan asked, shifting so his legs faced Benny.

“Nothing,” Benny replied, curling his mouth into a lopsided grin, gesturing openly with his hands, “It’s just a silly little feeling. I’m pretty sure it’ll go away soon.”

“What feeling?”

Benny shrugged.

“Grandma always tells me that I see the magic in everything. Shoot for the highest star. I guess I just finally realized what I truly wanted, and…” Benny's mouth twitched, his face hardening, “Well, you spend so long taking hits that you think maybe the universe will finally give you something good. After all those years of being second-best and sitting on the sidelines, maybe it’s all been leading up to something. Maybe I deserve something nice. But– But that’s just not how life works, E. I think I’ve spent so long wishing it were different, hoping that it would be my turn, but I can’t anymore.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t keep pretending,” Benny said, finally looking into Ethan’s eyes, “I’m done.”

Ethan furrowed his brows for a moment, reaching out a hand to touch Benny. Benny dodged, moving further away.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, I swear I’d never want to–”

“But you did. And it– it doesn’t hurt so much that I’m not the one you love. That’s– I can deal with that. It’s that you made me believe I was. Kissed me until my knees gave out and then left me to collapse on my own,” Benny held up a finger when Ethan opened his mouth, shaking his head, “Just– Just tell me to move on. Tell me I’m not the one you want, tell me I’m your best friend and nothing more. For my sake. So that I can stop seeing your face in every star in the sky and tricking myself into believing that one day I’ll be yours. I’ll always be thinking in possibilities and holding on to each fleeting moment that could mean something more, so– Just tell me it’s over. Please.”

Ethan sighed, carding a shaky hand through his hair.

“You are the one I want, Benny. I’m so sorry I let you believe otherwise. I thought that– that if I didn’t make a choice, no one would get hurt.”

Benny snorted.

“C’mon, you haven’t watched Hannah Montana? No one gets the best of both worlds.”

Ethan gave him a frown, quite used to Benny’s deflective humor.

“I know that now. I know what I want–”

Benny stood up abruptly, shaking his head vehemently. He pointed a finger at Ethan and spoke with pent-up malice.

“ No . I am not going to be your second choice. I won’t be chosen out of pity –”

Ethan quickly got up as well, wrapping his hand around Benny’s outstretched one and lacing their fingers together.

“No, B. It’s always been you.”

“Don’t lie to me–” Benny interjected, trying to remove his hand from Ethan’s. Ethan pulled him closer, gently caressing Benny’s cheek with his other hand.

“It’s always been you. I promise. I’ve just been so– scared to admit it. Everyone expected me to be with Sarah, and I do love her, but– But you’ve always been it for me. I thought I’d disappoint everyone around me or hurt Sarah or– It all seems so stupid now. I should’ve chosen you from the start.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Benny drily said, but there was a faint twinkle in his eyes.

“I think I’ve always known, but– Today, you weren’t at school, and I thought I’d lost you, and– I realized you’re the only thing I want. The only thing I need.”

“Took you long enough,” Benny murmured.

“I know, I know. No more stolen moments. Or hiding. I swear.”

“Mhmm…” Benny agreed, moving just a micrometer closer.

“Benny,” Ethan cooed, smiling.

“Yeah?”

“Will you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?” Ethan asked.

Benny batted his lashes playfully and grinned.

“To have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health?” He joked, squeezing Ethan’s hand.

“To love and to cherish and ‘til death do us part, you dork,” Ethan affirmed, lifting his head higher, waiting for Benny to make the move.

Benny paused for a moment, searching Ethan’s expression for something– sincerity, maybe. Ensuring that this wasn’t a joke or a dream or– Ethan actually wanted him back.

He softly smiled, satisfied, and leaned his head down just a few inches. He nudged his nose against Ethan’s and their lips fell together in a demure, sweet kiss. Ethan’s hands automatically moved to Benny’s jaw, cradling his head and bringing him impossibly closer, an apology and a promise all in one. Benny’s hand nested in Ethan’s hair, clutching the strands tightly. He pulled on them just enough to have Ethan groaning, quickly pulling back and fighting to catch his breath.

“ Benny !” He scolded, laughing.

“What?” Benny asked nonchalantly, “Just making up for lost time. Since, y’know, someone decided to play with my feelings and–”

“B, I’m sorry, I really didn’t realize how my actions affected you–”

“Yeah? Prove it,” Benny challenged, beckoning Ethan closer.

This time, Ethan kissed him, and Benny could’ve sworn he saw stars behind his eyelids.