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“I’m sorry, Layla, It’s just… not working,” Ben shrugged carelessly, turning his back on his ex and walking away. He really should have felt bad, but nothing clicked with the two of them. He wanted to blame it on her so that it wouldn’t be on him, but really, it was the both of them. In his opinion anyway.
At least Ben did it in a private area, saving her from public embarrassment and all. Only, he wasn’t really sure where he was going. He wasn’t lost, the place wasn’t that big. No, he knew he’d only have to go down before he figured it out.
He kept his head down, not wanting any more attention to himself, startling only when someone bumped into him.
“Sorry,” Ben didn’t even know Charlie was going to be here.
He hesitated slightly, subconsciously taking a step forward. “Hey.” He tried to ignore the hurt that came over him watching Charlie back himself into a corner, looking like a deer caught in headlights. As shit of a guy he could be, he wasn’t emotionally constipated like Harry. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened, okay? Have you finished sulking about it?” He was a lot closer now, closer than he meant to be but he didn’t want to backtrack.
Charlie let out a sigh, moving forward to try and get away, “Leave me alone.”
He grabbed Charlie’s arm as a reflex, wanting to fix things. “Oh, come on.” His own voice sounded bored to him.
“Don’t touch me!” Ben’s back slammed against the wall, shocked as he watched the shorter boy walking away.
He didn’t mean for things to go this way, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel bad about the absolute terror and fear in his ex’s eyes. Hell, he couldn’t even really call Charlie an ex, could he? That was on him.
It didn’t matter though, he still had to get out of this fucking place. He wasn’t going home, but he doubted he’d stay.
…
He saw Charlie again when he went to watch the match. He didn’t have too much say in that situation, all his ‘friends’ were going. He honestly didn’t know half their names. Imogen was currently going on about her and Nick, which, good for her. He really just didn’t give a shit.
She left him once they passed him, the group moving to stand near Charlie’s. Obviously, not too close.
Despite being surrounded by ‘rugby lads’ Ben still had no clue how the game worked, he just yelled encouraging words to the people he vaguely knew of. Unfortunately, Harry was one of the few of them. He had nothing against Harry, most of the time. Sometimes though, he just took joy in pissing Ben off.
It wasn’t like he could cheer for Nick anyway, he already had himself a personal cheerleader.
“Let’s go, Harry!” He called out, having been to enough of these events that having the ball was good. “Oh shove it, Danny!”
He had no fucking clue who Danny was.
“Who is Danny?” Imogen asked, giving him a side look.
He pointed out a random player, he wouldn’t be able to tell you their number cause he didn’t really check, “My mum knows his mum, real dickhead.” He was only glad Imogen was as clueless as he was.
She smiled, nodding, “Oh yeah, I think you mentioned him. You know a lot of rugby players, don’t you?”
He paused, not having to think long before a reasonable lie came to mind, “Yeah, I made the mistake of lying to my mum about trying out for the team, she took it as the chance to befriend all the local and nonlocal team mums.”
It would be scary that he could lie with such ease if he wasn’t such a dickhead, part of it was on the fact his friends were pretty shit about caring. As the game went on, their team lost with greater failure. He’d even guessed Timmy’s name right judging by the way the man flipped him off. It probably wasn't the right thing to do because he looked like a grown-ass fucking man that could bury him six feet under. He had no self-preservation.
Oh, and it was raining, he had to flip off a certain ‘Bartinion’ when he splashed some mud on him, he couldn’t prove it was on purpose, but he doubted it was by accident.
He could honestly say he was thankful for Charlie. It was a shame he got knocked down, which wasn’t as funny as his friends made it out to be, but it got him out of freezing his dick off. He really didn’t like the guilt he felt so he spent his energy antagonising the other team.
“Why is it that number ‘8’ looks like he wants to murder you?” Harry asked with a frown as he ran up to him, looking between Ben and his potential murderer.
He could only laugh at that, “Ah, I told Barty to go back to sucking his brother instead of dirt.”
Harry blinked slowly, tapping Ben on his back a few times before wishing him luck and hurrying away into the locker rooms. Coward, how dare he not face Ben’s problems for him. Speaking of which, he should probably run. Fast.
…
“Who are you waiting for?” Harry asked, and, was he capable of speaking at a normal volume?
“I was just waiting to see Nick,” Imogen smiled, yet it was strained like most people were around the young boy. It was sad, really. He couldn’t fully understand their distaste, sure Harry was a dick, but that wasn’t all of him, it couldn’t be.
“Oooh, finally ready to make a move?” He teased, looking back at the group for approval.
Maybe it can be, but it’s not. Being a bully isn’t a personality trait. Was it?
Imogen looked upset, and embarrassed, it hurt more than he thought it funny. “Just piss off Harry!”
“Okay fine, if you’re going to be a coward about it.”
Ben could not handle any more teenage angst, seeing Nick approaching, he thought it best to stop paying attention to the teen. He’d met Harry’s parents once, but that was enough to know they did it to their son enough for him to be used to it.
“I mean, it’s a shock he didn’t pummel you.” Caleb snickered, referencing to what could be anyone on the other team.
Ben sighed, shaking his head, “I know, I would have hidden behind someone if he tried.”
The boy simply snorted, “Ever the noble hero, Ben.”
"We are talking about Barty, right?"
"The fact that you had to ask..." Caleb laughed, shaking his head.
Happy giggles interrupted their conversation, Imogen linking arms with him and another girl as they walked away. He assumed that meant Nick said yes, either way, he’d be hearing about it for a while. He’d listen, to the main points anyways. One could only listen to the depths of how perfect Nick Nelson was before they got bored.
“Are we waiting for the rest here?” Caleb asked, sharing a bored glance with Ben.
Imogen shrugged, “I’m just going to go home, does anyone need a lift?”
Ben had no way to go home himself, he’d gotten a lift here and neither of his parents would be willing to get him, so of course, he said no. He wished Caleb luck with a short glance before heading to a bus stop.
…
His dad was home this week so he headed for a 711 close by his house, hoping to get a drink containing godless amounts of caffeine or sugar before inevitably heading in for the night. It was much to his distaste that Harry had decided to tag along, he probably needed to upset someone.
As they walked in, his eyes were immediately drawn to the Slurpees, noting how his favourite had an ‘out of service’ sign. Apparently, nothing good happened to homophobes.
He didn’t hate himself, but he was self-aware.
He still let out a frustrated sigh, commenting on it, “I swear they’re less reliable than the McDonald's ice cream.”
Harry only hummed in agreement, filling his cup up with the coke flavour.
“Oh come on, that is so boring, of course, your a coke guy.” Ben laughed, watching the boy roll his eyes.
“What kind of guy are you?”
He barely thought about his answer, “The fruit ones, it means I can pretend to be healthy.”
“If you can drink that Slurpee,” he scoffed, gesturing to the colourful combination Ben was holding, “-and think you’re being healthy, I’m scared to know your version of unhealthy.”
“Have you ever tried chips and smoothies?”
“You repulse me.”
They moved over to the counter, paying separately because Ben was stubborn and Harry was a rich motherfucker. He didn't know how long Harry planned to stay so he sat on the pavement, starting his drink as the other joined him.
“We are not the same person,” Harry commented, seemingly out of the blue.
Ben only laughed at that, “Yeah, I know because I don’t use my trauma as a fucking excuse. I know I’m a dickhead, Harry, what about you? When you look at yourself in your expensive ass mirror in the morning, what do you think of that scrawny excuse of a person?” He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t. “Or do you cover it up? Can’t stand to look at yourself anymore? Unfortunately, I don’t get that pleasure.”
Harry wasn’t looking at him anymore, “You’re a prick.”
“What are you going to do about it? Are you going to hit me?”
“Mate, I didn't mean it like that, why do you go from one to ten?”
Ben just stood up and fucking left, not caring too much about what would be waiting for him.
…
It was only that night he realised what he’d been doing. As he stared at himself in the mirror, Ben only saw his father. The man who was at fault for the bruises beneath his shirt. At fault for years of trauma and suffering. He couldn’t blame everything on his old man, but he still did.
It was then that he recognised it in himself. The way Charlie tensed around him, avoiding eye contact. It was the same way he got around his dad. The same way his mother used to get around his dad.
Fuck. He was the spitting image of that cunt inside and out. He hated that. He hated his dad. He couldn’t hate himself.
The thought of him was enough to send his fist into his wall. He didn’t care about the pain it caused, he did it again. He deserved it, with every time his fist collided with the plaster he imaged the pure disgust on Charlie’s face. How, in trying so hard not to be like him, he did exactly that. When he delivered his next punch, he didn’t expect it to land square on someone’s face. The sound of a crack made him want to puke, even more so when he saw who it was. “Oh shit!” He cried, looking at the familiar bloody face.
Harry groaned, holding his nose as he glared. “What the fuck man! Are you trying to kill me? I come all the way from 711 for this, just for you to punch me in the fucking face! I mean, seriously? I was only trying to help for once, cause you looked so fucking pissed earlier-”
Ben rolled his eyes, “You’re being a tad bit dramatic, mate, besides, why the fuck are you in my house?”
The look Harry gave him could be summed up as a non-verbal ‘what the fuck!?’ gesture, “A tad bit…? How about I punch you in the face, see how you like it?” Ben only sighed, removing the other boy’s hands from his face so he could assess the situation. He unintentionally leaned in as he did so, ignoring how uncomfortable it made him feel. The best course of action would be to just kick him out.
He wouldn’t, but he was tempted.
The reason he was even considering helping was completely selfish, for a fresh start. A start to a new Ben.
Getting out of the idiot’s personal space, Ben paced around a bit, delaying actually fixing the problem for his own pleasure. “Why are you here anyway? How did you get my address?” He found himself asking because he couldn’t deny he was curious. The boy had just appeared.
It only took a few seconds of hesitation before he started talking, “As I said, you looked pissed, I thought I’d follow and check on you, clearly, I was right to.” He gestured to Ben’s bloodied fist.
Ben could only scoff, shaking his head pointedly, “We’re barely friends, don’t act as if you care.” He dug out the first aid kit from under his bed, wrapping up his own injuries first.
“Don’t tell me what I care about,” Harry laughed sarcastically, shoving Ben slightly. “I came to say sorry.”
“No, don’t make this a thing.” Ben sighed, throwing an ice pack at Harry,
Harry rolled his eyes, pressing the packet to his face. “What? Mate, come on, put your pride aside, this is becoming a thing.”
“No, no it’s not.”
Harry laughed, opening his arms for a hug, “Come on Benny, give your friend a hug!”
“No!” Ben yelled, hiding a smile as he climbed on his bed to gain the high ground, “I will punch you again.”
“Nah, you’re too soft.”
…
He planned to say sorry. He really did. It’s just, his heart was beating so fucking loudly, and he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He was going to throw up, maybe being better wasn’t for him.
If he couldn’t say sorry, was it even worth trying anymore?
He only let himself look at Charlie for a few seconds before collecting himself again and getting the fuck out of school. It was pretty easy because none of the teachers genuinely gave a shit about the students. He knows he fucked up with Spring, he wasn’t stupid despite the very common belief. It didn’t matter though, Charlie didn’t matter to him.
Instead, he went to sit at his table. Harry had started hanging out with him more and more. He’d even gotten him to try some of his favourite combinations, though Harry called them concoctions, he enjoyed some of them. They both knew it.
“Ben, you have to see this movie with me, it sounds like the dumbest fucking thing ever.” A laugh followed his comment as the boy sat next to him.
He only rolled his eyes in response. “Wow, way to convince me, Harry.”
“Come on please!”
If he couldn’t say no, he’d make Harry say it. “Only if it’s a date.”
“What? Mate, I’m not gay.”
“No, really?” Ben mocked, “Obviously I know that, you make it the predominant half of your personality. I just want you to call it that, for my ego.”
“Isn’t that.. I don't know, weird?”
Was it wrong to start conditioning your friend? Yes. Ben really didn’t care though, Harry desperately needed it. “Only if you plan on holding my hand.”
“No!”
“So? Is it a date?”
“Fine, whatever, it's a date.”
Ben winked, and laughed as he was shoved, “How’s the nose?”
“Better, did you have to throw a pillow though? I got blood on it.”
…
“When you said this movie sucked, I didn’t think that you meant this.” Harry shushed him. Actually fucking shushed him, while he was smirking. “What are you- there is literally nobody here.”
It was true, there wasn’t a single person lined up to see my little pony in the middle of a school day.
…
Ben zoned out, no longer bothering to try and listen to Ashley’s constant babbling. He feigned interest though, occasionally giving non-committal hums. He’d been dating her for four weeks, and something was wrong. Sure, she was attractive and sometimes funny, he just didn’t like her. He wasn’t looking forward to the breakup. It was a shit day already.
“Ben mate, I need you for a moment,” Harry interrupted, as usual. He wasn’t mad anymore, in fact, he was relieved. He apologised to his current girlfriend, following after Harry as he walked over to the rugby field. “Which one is that?”
The pure spontaneity of the question warranted a startled laugh, “Uh, fifth?” He didn’t bother counting.
Harry raised a singular brow, “This year or in total?” The silence that followed was an answer in itself.
“Not your business.”
A sigh was the first response he got, “We’re friends-”
“No, we’re really not. Do you want to know why Harry?” Ben stopped, something in him snapped. “Because I’m trying to be better, and you’re still a homophobic piece of shit!” He laughed humourlessly. He could feel eyes on him, everyone nearby was watching. It only fuelled him further.
Harry took a singular step forward, face still as he remained calm. “Bullshit Ben, if you were really trying, you would have apologised to Charlie.”
He was right. It still hurt, as he ran a hand through his hair, Ben continued, “I’m trying to try.”
“We both know it’s not enough.”
He didn’t know how Harry seemed to break his final straw fifteen times. “There is no we, Harry! You say we’re friends but if you knew, you wouldn’t even be able to look at me.”
Harry took the bait, “Knew what?”
“I’m fucking gay! I like dick, and I hate myself for it.” As they calmed, they stared at each other, ignoring everything else. “So, Harry, do you still want to be my friend?”
Despite everything Ben had said, a small part of him hoped to be wrong. As Harry looked at him like he’d grown two heads, he knew he was right. Winning never felt so bad as he turned his back, storming out of school.
…
“Ben!” Ms Singh called out, making the boy internally wish for the world to swallow him whole. It didn’t. Fucking traitor. “Detention with me in the sickbay, now.” Typical. Why can’t he ever be right? “I need you to organise all of the first aid kits.”
That… wasn’t so bad. “Is that all?:” He asked after a few moments of prolonged quiet.
She laughed at him, like the poor naïve fool he was, but nodded, leaving to do whatever teachers do after.
It was bad, he knew that as soon as he entered the room. Who the fuck just throws potential life-saving equipment into a room? There was a checklist, opened boxes, wrappers, bandages lose, and a hell of a lot more. This was going to be a long detention.
…
It was a pretty big surprise when Harry Greene entered the room, face all bloody. He’d no doubt got into a fight, knowing the blonde, the other guy was most likely worse off.
Harry struggled to treat the wound himself, it was hard to watch, yet Ben did nothing to aid him. He had long since finished organising the bandages and was simply watching for entertainment.
“If you’re not going to help, just go.”
Ben simply let out a heavy sigh, “I’ve got detention,” He responded, snatching the wipe from the other’s hand and taking over. “Hold still then.”
“Do you have to get so fucking close?” Harry asked, so visibly uncomfortable that Ben obliged. A new person. He was trying.
Sighing in exasperation around this fucking idiot seemed to be becoming a trend. “To see? Yes.”
“Are you blind?”
Yes, he just refused to wear glasses because he’d always gotten teased for it. He was also very gay.
“No, but I’m leaving, nothing else for me to do here.”
Ben turned his back to the injured fuckwit and began to walk away. He paused once Harry called out, taking a steadying breath and repeating ‘new person’ over and over again like a mantra. Neither of them spoke when Ben came back. Not when Ben got close so he could do what he had to. It was terrifying for both of them.
Ben had a crush on Harry Greene.
He was screwed.
There was a fragile peace between the pair. It was bound to break as many times as it was built, so Ben didn’t comment on how fragile and scared Harry was. Didn’t even think about tracing his freckles.
When Harry’s nose was no longer flooded with blood, Ben left.
As soon as he was out of school again, he ran home with a speed that would contest Charlie Spring. The Charlie Spring he owed an apology to. That wasn’t important now.
Ben was bi, Harry was straight. Both of them homophobic. How fucking ironic was it that Ben had a stupid crush? It was small, minuscule, barely even there when Harry smiles. He never even noticed how much he’d changed, yet how he always seemed desperate for any kind of attention, good or bad. That he’s nice when his friends aren’t around.
…
“Did you hear what happened with Harry?” Imogen asked, dropping her bag onto the floor.
“No? I bet He deserved getting punched though.”
“Surprisingly I disagree, Ben, He punched someone for your honour.”
“My honour? What the fuck does that mean?”
“Someone was being homophobic, so Harry punched them.”
“Harry punched someone because they were being homophobic?” He asked, confusion increasing with confirmation. “What alternative reality is this? I uh, have to go.”
He didn’t wait for a response, simply running out of the room. It only occurred to him that he had no clue where the hell he was going when he was struggling to breathe. It was disappointing how he didn’t become as fit overnight as he’d hoped. This was why he was never an optimist.
“Fuck I should have waited until tomorrow.”
A snort came from behind him, followed by obnoxious slurping noises. He was going to pummel this dickhead. “You punched someone for me?”
Harry seemed to be at a loss for words, hands clenched tight. “I don’t like guys.”
Wasn’t that just so fucking great? “Good for-”
“Ben, let me finish, or I will fucking beat you.” He threatened, looking determined, “I don’t like girls, either.” That made him feel a little better, maybe it was the shock that Harry fucking Greene wasn’t straight. “I only like you, you fucking asshole.”
Ben’s brain broke, not thinking as Harry started to cry, because how fucking insane was all of this? He couldn’t think, only feel. He was happy, so fucking happy, but also scared. It was only when he felt Harry’s lips on his that he felt safe. He all but caved into the contact, holding him closer.
They had to break apart for air eventually, they looked at each other for a moment before Harry took Ben’s hand in his own.
“That’s gay,” Ben commented, looking at their intertwined hands.
Harry looked at him in bafflement, rolling his eyes. “And kissing wasn’t?”
A smile made its way onto his face, “No, actually, that was the straightest-”
“I hate you.” There was no heat behind it, the banter was so fucking nice.
“So do you just kiss all of the people you hate?”