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The harsh sting of a punch planting itself in his cheek briefly snapped Ben back to reality, before the intoxication from the alcohol continued skewing his thought process.
“GO FUCK YOURSELF, BENJAMIN BROOKES!” Someone, he couldn't quite tell, probably his girlfriend, maybe now ex-girlfriend, yelled as she stormed off into a large crowd of drunk and dancing teenagers, coated in layers of cheap perfume and cologne.
“Ouch, rude much??” Ben drunkenly slurred, rubbing his red and aching face. Lola was surprisingly strong, you wouldn’t guess just by looking at her. Tonight, her usually kind face, pretty blue eyes, and lovely smile were permanently etched into a look of rage and disappointment. Ben wondered who that nasty look was intended for, their previous interaction already hazy. He heard murmurs and saw some stares. What for guys? It’s not like there was a fight.
“Ugh, I spilled all my beer,” Ben grumbled, now noticing his once nice and dry brown suit was wet and covered in beer, his shoes also soaked. “What a party pooper.”
Shortly after this interaction, he started to feel the vomit crawling back up his throat, caused by his pre-prom shrimp extravaganza. He rushes to the bathroom, uncoordinatedly pushing through dancing crowds of people yelling things like “Asshole!” and “You’re cruising for a bruisin' buddy!” at him. He stumbles as he pushes the bathroom door open and rushes to the large stall in the empty bathroom. He hurls, most of the vomit successfully making its way into the toilet. This seemed to have cleared Ben’s mind, at least temporarily.
“God, what made me think drinking was a good idea?” Ben mutters to himself before an image of Ricky flashes into his mind.
Oh yes, Richard Collins, the boy who had started this all. Ever since they met, he had been on Ben’s mind, initially for the thought of punching him, but lately he’s been taking up the space in his mind where Lola should be, for a reason he couldn’t place. Well, I mean, he could, but he knew admitting it to himself would open too many new doors he wasn’t, and never wanted to be ready for.
He had tried to swallow his guilt by drowning it in alcohol, but instead only continued to drown the corpse of his already dead relationship.
“Oh god. Why couldn’t I just be what she needed–” Ben’s mumbling to himself is interrupted by another hurl into the toilet. “I just–I just need to be a boyfriend to her. I need to.. just be normal. I don’t know why this is so difficult,” he choked as tears started breaching the confines of his eyes.
“Maybe I should go apologize to her. Show her I can... love her, the way it should be..” Now, heaving sobs were leaving him as he threw up again. “Stop thinking about him, it doesn’t matter how I feel about him. I love Lola. Or I should.”
At least the feeling of vomiting left Ben, but the rest didn’t.
“No, it’s fine, if I apologize to Lola, it’ll all be fine..” he pauses, more tears streaming down his face, “Why can’t I have what I want?” he whispers to himself. Ben immediately freezes and tries to hold in his tears as he hears the doors open, the sound of the music streaming in, and footsteps enter the room.
Music blasted over the speakers as a hundred or so students drunkenly danced around the school gym that was lined with lanterns and lights. Somehow, no teacher had noticed the scent of alcohol that reeked through the room. Pairs of students, boys and girls, swayed and spun together, having the night of their lives as the multi-colored lights danced over them.
Ricky took a sip of the slightly revolting fruit punch the school had provided, talking with Skeeter. But he couldn’t help but look past her and stare at him. His brown hair swaying as he walked, his green eyes watching the ground, unable to meet his approaching girlfriend's eyes. Despite the problems he had described with eye contact, he always seemed to be good at it with Ricky. His light brown suit, red tie, and royal blue flower pinned to his suit perfectly complemented his features. His Benjamin Brookes. Though he knew he wasn’t really his, despite their relationship problems, he had Lola– his kind and pretty girlfriend who deeply loved him.
“Ricky!” a voice snaps him back into the present. It’s his prom date, Skeeter.
“What is it, Skeet Skeet?” he responds.
“Were you even listening to what I was saying?” she questioned, with a hint of exasperation.
“Sorry. I was a bit distracted.”
“Oh, I could tell,” she responds, teasing him. She glances over her shoulder, seeing Ben, speaking with Lola. “You’ve got to let him go, Ricks.”
He simply sighed in response. There was a loud thud against something, and the whole gym went quiet. He could hear Lola’s voice ringing through the gym,
“GO FUCK YOURSELF, BENJAMIN BROOKES!”
Ricky was stunned by the scene panning out before him. Skeeter spun on her heel, not wanting to miss a second of whatever was happening. Ben stood there, motionless, a red mark on his cheek as Lola stormed out, her fists clenched, clearly very pissed at whatever Ben had done to deserve this.
Voices started to chatter again, likely about whatever had just gone down.
“Uhhh….” Ricky started, still staring at Ben. He glanced at Donna, standing with her boyfriend, Brady, seething. She started to angrily approach Ben when he took off, hand over his mouth like he was about to hurl. “I’m gonna go check on him,” Ricky called to Skeeter as he quickly took off, concern filling his voice.
“Don’t do anything stupid!” Skeeter yelled at him, though he likely couldn’t hear her over the sound of kids in the gym.
Ricky pushed open the bathroom door, hearing a brief, sharp inhale, then silence besides the booming music from the next room over. He glanced at the floor and spotted someone crouching in a stall at the end of the room.
Ben sees the bottom of a blue suit poking out from under the stall.
“Brookie, is that you?” a familiar voice says.
No. no. no. nononononono. Not here, not now. Not when he was supposed to be apologizing to Lola. The footsteps continued further into the bathroom, nearing his stall. He sees Ricky’s head poke around the corner of his open stall, his face laced with concern. Ben’s tear-stained face, hunched over by the toilet, stares back at him. He rushes over to Ben, crouching down and putting his hands on his shoulders, forcing Ben to face him. “Brooks, are you okay?” his voice has an unusual sincerity to it, something Ben had seldom heard before. Ben paused. He stared into Ricky’s mesmerizing eyes just a second too long before looking away.
“It’s nothing, go enjoy your night with your date,” he grumbled, emphasizing the word date. Ricky flinched at the harsh scent of alcohol on Ben’s breath. He furrowed his brows,
“No, something’s up with you, it’s okay, you can tell me anything. Is it related to Lola?” he questioned, pretending as if he (or everybody) hadn’t seen their earlier showdown. Ben looked back at Ricky, his blue eyes that perfectly complemented his suit, his hair thick with hair spray, his sad and worried facial expression, his red l– no stop. He can’t go there. It was all too much. Ben leaned into Ricky, wrapping his arms around him and letting out heaving sobs as he melted into the warmth of Ricky’s arms. He couldn’t stop himself. Ricky didn’t know what to say; all he could do was hold him as he ran his hands through Ben’s silky brown hair. Eventually, he calmed down enough to be able to speak.
Ben pulled back, an empty expression filling his face as he said, “There’s… something seriously wrong with me, Ricky.”
“Brookie, you’re always saying th–”
“No, really. I’m gonna get sent to hell,” Ben cut him off bluntly. Ricky just stared back, an unreadable expression on his face. Many thoughts and considerations ran through Ricky’s head, some more hopeful than others. He then took Ben’s wrist and gripped it tightly in his hand, hoping to ground him in the current situation.
A sad look takes over Ben’s face again, “I can’t be a good enough boyfriend for Lola. I can’t even make eye contact with her. But it’s so easy with you. All of it is. I need to focus on Lola but all I can think about is..” he pauses, realizing what he’s about to say. He can’t stand to look Ricky in the eye at this point, but Ricky instead grabs his hand and squeezes it. Ben looks up and sees Ricky’s face. His concerned and genuine expression.
“I…” Ben starts, he leans forward, almost involuntarily. He quickly glances down at Ricky’s lips, then back up to his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice, though he knew he would. He expected Ricky to move, but he didn’t. He stays there, waiting, not breaking eye contact with Ben. He thinks he’ll run, push him away, something, but he stays firmly planted in his spot. Ricky moves his hands and puts one on Ben’s back, and the other brushing his cheek with his thumb. Ben places his arms around Ricky and moves forward, still expecting him to move, instead, their lips meet.
He wasn’t aware of how much he needed this until all of his emotions poured out all at once, into this one singular moment. When Ricky kissed him back, he couldn’t help but melt further into Ricky’s arms, pushing harder against his lips. It didn’t feel real; it was too perfect. This was nothing like the previous kisses he shared with Lola, devoid of warmth or love. It felt so right, he knew it was so wrong, but in the moment, all of those thoughts disappeared. It was just him and Ricky, desperately holding each other even closer, trying to stop this fleeting moment from leaving them.
Ben pulled back, out of breath. There’s a stunned silence between the two. He looked at Ricky. Bits and pieces of his hair fell around the sides of his face, beginning to leave its tightly cemented position it had been in previously. His blue eyes, a desperate plea for more. His face flushed, with an expression he couldn’t define. A mixture of love, desperation, shock, and fear.
After a moment of thought, Ricky’s lip tightened as he frowned, avoiding Ben’s eyes, “No– you’re drunk, I shouldn’t have let you do that,”he hesitated, “you don’t know what you want,”
And then, it hit Ben like a ton of bricks. He had just kissed Ricky. He had just kissed a man. There was no forgiveness for this. He wasn’t like this. He wasn’t. He wasn’t.
“No. No, I’m-” Ben quickly scrambles up, putting his hands up to keep Ricky away as he backs up against the wall, his breath shallow and rapid, like no air was entering his lungs. Ricky stands up, concerned, closing the stall door in case anyone else entered.
“Brookie, it’s okay, calm down,” he tried to reassure him.
“No. No, I didn’t just– I’m not–” Ricky places his hands on Ben’s shoulders, holding him in place and grounding him.
“Breathe. Brookie, breathe.” He wraps his arms around Ben.
Ben’s heart rate begins to slow, and he takes a few deep breaths. They stood there, silently, in each other's warm embrace. It felt like everything he had ever been missing– had ever needed in his life. But, they weren’t meant to– they couldn’t be together. But he wanted that more than anything in the world right now. He ached to just be close to Ricky, to melt into his arms, to press himself into his lips, just to be with him, so he didn’t stop himself again when he leaned forward.
But Ricky pulled away. They had to stop. Ben didn’t know what he was doing, he couldn’t kiss someone so drunk they thought Kenny would be a good lawyer. As they both stood there, once again, the weight of the situation once again fell onto Ben like a ton of bricks. He couldn’t be around Ricky anymore. He couldn’t be around someone who made him feel like this. He had to avoid him at all costs.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he slipped out from Ricky’s arms, quickly unlocking the stall and running out of the room.
“Brookie, wait!” Ricky called out behind him with desperation, but Ben had already disappeared.
Ricky reentered the loud room full of drunk teenagers and cheap alcohol. He scanned the room for Ben, but he was nowhere to be seen, so eventually he headed for Skeeter. He took one more glance back and finally met Brookie’s gaze, but Ben looked away so quickly it was like their eyes never met at all. Ricky felt a twinge of pain in his heart but decided to respect his wishes for now.
He met Skeeter by the Sushi bar, where she looked at Ricky with a concerned look in her eyes before continuing to shove a piece of sushi down her gullet.
“What happened?” she inquired.
“He kissed me. Then ran away.”
Skeeter visibly cringed in response to that before rubbing Ricky’s shoulder to comfort him. “I’m sure he’ll come around eventually. Maybe he just hasn’t fully accepted it yet.”
“But how can he look at me and pretend I’m someone he’s never met?” Ricky says more desperately than he should, and all Skeeter could do was give him a sympathetic look.
An hour passed, and then another, with no word from Ben, not even a glance, just glimpses Ricky caught of him as they moved around the room.
“Okay, I’m tired of this. He can’t avoid me the rest of the night.” Ricky lamented.
“I’m not sure I’d go over there right now..” Skeeter says, but it’s already too late as she sees Ricky stalking over to him.
Ben quickly tucks away something he had been holding and looks up to see Ricky.
“That’s it, you’re coming with me,” and before Ben had time to protest, Ricky’s hands were wrapped around his wrist, dragging him toward the exit.
Stumbling around, Ben was trying to find a good place to go. He didn’t wanna be berated by Donna, but no way was he going anywhere near Ricky. He was attempting to make his way toward a nice corner when, as he passed by Donna and Brady (trying to avoid their attention), he tripped, the alcohol finally catching up to him. He let out a little yelp as he hit the floor, catching the attention of a couple of surrounding people. Something clattered as it hit the floor, and he saw the ring Ricky had gifted him. Unfortunately, Donna also saw it.
“Oh my god. Was that for Lola!!? Now you have to apologize, you asshole!”
“No00,” a slightly winded, but drunk Ben said, slurring his speech, “It’ss from Rishy duhh”
An alarmed expression spread across Donna’s face, meanwhile, Ben picked himself and the ring back up, tucking it in his pocket as he made his way towards that corner.
Heather, standing nearby, had overheard this exchange, and gears started turning in her head.
Ben tried to avoid Ricky the rest of the night, succeeding by standing in the same corner for two hours. He stood there, fidgeting with the ring, but as a shadow approached him, he quickly tucked it away. He looked up to see who was casting the shadow looming over him, and before he knew it he was halfway across the room being dragged by the wrist by Ricky.
Ricky slams the storage closet door behind them. It’s mostly dark, except for the little bit of light creeping in from the cracks in the door.
“Okay, Brookie, you really have to tell me what’s going on with you.”
Ben stares blankly off to the side, leaning against the door. Eventually, he opens his mouth to say something,
“It’s-, I can’t- we can’t- I’m not-, I love-” he pauses, his lips trembling.
Ricky frowns, “But why not?”
Ben meets his eyes before glancing away again, “It’s just wrong…” and he adds in a whisper, “but it feels so right.”
Ricky grabs his cheek and makes Ben look at him.
“It’s not wrong, it’s just different from what others want. What makes it so wrong just to love someone if love is meant to be a gift?” he says to Ben with a warm look in his eyes, trying to reassure him of something he wasn’t even quite sure of himself.
Ben reluctantly smiles. They hold each other close, taking in the other’s presence, when the door handle jiggles from side to side. They quickly scramble away from each other in horror, staring at the source of the noise. Someone had tried to open the closet door. Someone was out there. Someone had been listening. But they had no idea who.
After waiting what felt like hours, they finally decided to return to the dance; they figured whoever was out there was long gone. Ricky reached for the door handle when Ben said,
"Just.. leave me here for a bit. I want to think about some things a little more.."
Ricky paused, "Are you sure? You'll be alright? I don't want to leave you alone like that if you won't be." He said, looking back at Ben with a worried look in his eyes
"No, really, please, I just need to be alone to think a little more, then I'll head back out there,"
Ricky reluctantly agreed and exited the closet, leaving Ben to contemplate.
As he stepped through the gym doors again, he was greeted by the scent of cheap perfume and loud music. He spotted Donna and Brady on one side of the gym and Skeeter on the other. He made his way toward Skeeter, and as she opened her mouth to ask him what happened, there was a tapping on the microphone on the stage. The room went quiet as they looked to see what was happening.
Ricky turned toward the stage, and holding the microphone with a sinister look in her eyes, was Heather. His heart dropped to his stomach, pounding, waiting for what would come out of her mouth next. He silently prayed it wasn’t what he thought it was. Skeeter sent him a very concerned look as she took hold of his arm.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen! I have a very important announcement for you all today." She looked around the gym, but specifically met Ricky's eyes. His heart was racing, its rate increasing every second.
"I know you all really value your community and knowing the people around you, so I thought I should help you get to know some of your beloved classmates even better"
Students started murmuring, wondering what was about to be said and about whom. Ricky's mind was racing. There was no getting out of this now. The optimistic part of him was saying this was unrelated to the earlier incident, but his logical side knew what was about to happen.
The rest of the greaser goon gang was gathered near a door to a hallway, presumably where most other students had acquired the alcohol that he could smell reeking from them. Everyone else seemed unaware of what this was for, but Bobbie had a glare of anger in his eyes, directed strictly towards Heather and whatever she was about to do.
"So, we all know our lovely students, Benjamin Brooks and Ricky Collins,"
There was a slight pause, enough time for Ricky to quickly glance over to an anxious Donna, who quickly began to search the area with her eyes, looking for her brother. She wanted to be with him, as whatever Heather had to say next couldn’t be good.
"Well, maybe lovely isn’t the word. I think calling them faggots is more acceptable, considering the conversation I just overheard a little while ago,”
A silence washed over the crowd, except for a few gasps. Instantly, it was like a 4 foot barrier was formed around Ricky, besides Skeeter, who was practically using his arm as a stress ball. She was seething, staring daggers into Heather.
The moment she spoke, all of the color drained from his face. To Ricky, it was like the entire world paused for a minute. It was over. His secret was out. Everyone knew. His entire world had just been turned upside down and shaken violently, and all he could do was stand there, petrified and welded to the gym floor where he stood. It was like he wasn’t in control of his body anymore; he was just able to watch as his life fell down around him.
Everyone was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, even the music had been silenced. The entire school was staring at him, their faces a mixture of shock and disgust.
Then, he heard it. The tap tap tap of shoes coming down the hallway, toward the dance.
After sitting in that dark closet, thinking about what he should do when he eventually rejoined the dance, Ben was finally ready to return to the unbearable bright lights and staggeringly large crowd of people. He found it a bit odd that he could hardly hear anybody anymore, but regardless he got up and exited the storage closet. At least he'd be less overwhelmed by the sounds when he came back, he thought to himself before turning the corner of the hallway.
Now, he could see the open gym doors. There wasn’t any movement, it was dead silent. What the hell's going on? Yet, he continued approaching the gym, he at least needed to see that Ricky was alright. He had decided that for the rest of the dance, he'd linger near Donna and Brady. He was too much of a wreck to be near that blue eyed bastard, especially in his intoxicated state. As he neared, his footsteps steps louder to those in the gym, heads started to turn.
What the fuck was happening? He steps through the doors, and those near the entrance instantly backed up several feet. What?
Then, he looked up, Heather Monette was stood tall on the stage, gripping a microphone, with a smug expression on her face. She locked eyes with Ben, a proud glimmer in her eye.
No.
This couldn't be what was happening.
He looked around. First, he saw Donna and Brady. Donna had an unreadable expression and was just staring blankly at him. Probably the most friendly look from the sea of those glaring at him with contempt. Then, he saw him. Ricky. Everyone had backed away from him, giving him the same stares Ben was receiving now.
Ricky, hearing his footsteps, was finally able to get himself to move enough to see Ben.
They locked eyes, Ricky's destroyed and mortified face giving Ben enough he needed to know about the situation. He quickly spun around and booked it out of there, he couldn't be in there any longer. Not with all those people staring at him. Not the looks of pity from Brady and Skeeter. Not seeing the horrified face of Ricky. And certainly not anywhere near Heather. He heard footsteps behind him,
Donna's voice yelling, "BEN! WAIT!"
But he didn't listen, he ran. He ran past a clueless Stuart down the hallway. He ran through the streets, the lights lining them a blur. He kept running until he couldn't anymore. He stopped, collapsing near a tree. He had exhausted himself. He glanced back in the direction he had come from, seeing Donna staggering behind him, seemingly holding her heels in her hands. He was too tired to continue running from her.
She slowly approached him as she dropped her heels on the ground and sat down next to Ben. They sat in silence for a bit, until Donna broke it,
"About uh... what happened in there.." She turns and looks to Ben. He doesn't move. "Is it true?.."
Ben didn't respond, but tears began to well up in his eyes. Donna leaned over and hugged him, holding him tight. "It's okay.." she reassures him.
After a moment of silence he pleads "Please... don't tell mom,"
His mind was racing. There was nothing he could do. Ricky was still frozen in place, unable to move and have the spotlight redirected elsewhere. He felt a light tugging on his arm, Skeeter encouraging him to move.
He observed the familiar faces around the room. He looked through the crowd and towards the greasers. Kenny and Nancy, sharing an ‘Oh boy’ look (like the face Ben made when Kenny said he was deep into those drugs), were still posted by the entrance to the hallway. In contrast, Bobbie's face was full of contempt and disgust, but not towards Ricky or Ben. Instead, that look was directed toward Heather as he stalked toward her. Stuart was seemingly worried and confused as he entered the room. He had been in the bathroom as this whole thing went down, perfect timing from Heather, of course.
Skeeter eventually grabs hard onto Ricky and rushes him out of there, avoiding eye contact with everyone around them.
They sat silently on a grass patch, a little ways away from the school, each smoking a cigarette. Ricky blows out the smoke from his,
"Just go back and enjoy the dance Skeet Skeet, I'll be alright. I don't wanna ruin the night for you,"
She seemed taken aback, "No way, the only reason I came is because I went with you, and there's no way I could leave you alone after that." She paused, thinking about what she should say next, "I just... I don't want you to end up like Emily."
Ricky had nothing to say. He didn't want to talk about anything, well, he hardly wanted to exist at this moment. But he listened to Skeeter talk. She talked about Emily, she talked about the times they spent together, and what eventually ended up happening.
"It destroyed her and it destroyed me. I can't have that happening to you so please, promise me," Skeeter pleaded, her voice cracking a little at the end, "I can't lose you too"
Ricky almost smiled a little "I promise Skeetboard,"
She smiled, and teasingly punched him in the shoulder "Okay, what the hell is a Skeetboard,"
They sat there for a little while. Ricky heard a little bit of noise and looked behind him. The dance was letting out at about this time, he saw the rush of students exiting the building.
"Okay, I'm going home. I just want this night to end," As he stands up, Skeeter grabs his sleeve,
"Are you sure you'll be okay? Your dad won't do anything?"
"I'll be fine. See you,"
As he walks, not knowing where he was headed, he thinks. There's no way he could go back to Ben's place, not after tonight, even if he was concerned about hm. Instead, his feet carry him back to that familiar bench where Ben found him for the first time. He lies awake for a while in that uncomfortable suit, but eventually, a restless sleep finds him
Ben jolted awake. He was safe in the confines of his room, it was still dark out. He peered over at his clock, which was lit by the moonlight, it read 3:21 AM. God, it was late. He tried to recall what had happened and then was hit with the memories of what had occurred mere hours ago. Memories he wished were just a bad dream. But the raging headache and pit in his stomach told him otherwise.
Ricky wasn't there. He was one of the last people Ben wanted to see right now, but he still couldn't stop himself from worrying endlessly. Where was he, did he go to his dad’s? Did his dad do something to him? Was he out there in the cold? God knows what happened to him after he abandoned him. He knew she shouldn't have, but it was the only thing he knew how to do. Run. Just like he did from his relationship with Lola. Just like he was planning to from this life when Heather had that photo. This time, he wasn't gonna run. Not from his feelings for Ricky.
Ben got out of bed, quickly realizing he was still in his suit, but didn't bother to change out now. He quickly and quietly snuck out through his window, with much more grace than Ricky ever had. He went to the first place he thought he might be, that park bench.
He walked aways before seeing the bench from a distance, Ricky. All of his feelings came flooding back to him. He rushed over to the bench, boy, Ricky was OUT. Ben lightly tapped him, then a little harder, by the time he was shaking him, Ricky started to stir. Why does he have to sleep so hard??
"Huh..." Ricky blinked a couple of times, his eyes adjusting to the light. He saw a blurry figure, "Brookie? Is that you?" And he opened his eyes fully, realizing it was in fact him. "BROOKIE!!" he shouted, jolting upright and quickly scrambling away.
Ben shushes him, "Shitbird, do you wanna wake the whole city?" he teases. Ricky relaxes a little bit at the sight of Ben’s smile. "C’mon, shitbird, you're coming back to my house."
Ricky hesitates, "Are you sure you actually want me there? Won't that be a little.. Weird?"
"I'm more worried about you than this being a little uncomfortable. Come on, you're gonna catch a cold out here." Plus, if he were being honest, he wouldn’t mind his company.
Ben grabbed Ricky's wrist and pulled him up, Ricky's face flushing a little bit. As they walked, Ben slowly slipped his hand down Ricky's wrist and held his hand. They were both bright red, though both were unaware due to being too stuck in their own thoughts. They clamber in through Ben's window and land (ungracefully) on his floor.
They lie in bed, back to back, just taking in each other's presence in silence. Ricky flips over and stares at Ben's back. Admiring his silky, chestnut hair and the way his shoulders rose and fell as he breathed in and out. Ben glanced over his shoulder, half asleep, and saw Ricky staring at him. He turned to face him. After staring into Ben's eyes for probably too long, Ricky began to climb out of bed. Ben, confused, broke the silence for the first time since they climbed into bed.
"Where are you going?".. "Please don't leave– I can go–"
Ricky rustled through a pile in the corner of Ben's room and pulled something out. "Don't worry, Brookie cookie, I'm not going anywhere."
He walks over to Ben's side of the bed and hands him a piece of paper. Ben grabs it, and as he reads it and the gears start to turn in his head. It's a love poem, the same writing style as the ones he had found on his locker.
"Did you write this?" he questioned,
Ricky regained his regular shit eating grin, "Of course, Brookie,"
Before he knew it he was grabbing the collar of Ricky's shirt and pulling him onto himself.
This time, it wasn’t gentle; it was a desperate cling to what they’ve both realized they could have. Ben dug his fingers into the fabric on Ricky’s back, trying to hold him close forever. Their bodies pressing against each other, the racing of their hearts, the heat in both of their cheeks, painting them red, was like a forbidden, yet long-awaited release.
He felt Ricky’s hand run through his hair, the other holding his waist close. This time, he noticed the faint taste of cigarettes on Ricky’s breath, but he didn’t care; it was enough to be there with him. Like this. He didn’t have to pretend. This time it felt natural.
Ricky had already been awake for a little bit before Ben woke up, his head on Ricky’s chest and his arms wrapped around him. Ricky, noticing Ben was finally awake, hesitated for a moment before asking,
“Ben,” he looked at Ricky, “I just wanted to check, uh.. Did you mean everything you said yesterday? I know you were drunk and it was late and everything, it’s okay if you’re…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Ben looked at him for a minute, just admiring the sharp features of Ricky’s face,
“I...” he paused, Ricky’s whole body tensed, “I did.” Ben smiled as they continued to hold each other close for what felt like an eternity.
Then, Ben’s door suddenly opens as Donna steps in, “C’mon Ben, it’s so late in the day–” she stops in her tracks, seeing Ben and Ricky lying there together. They immediately pull apart, a wave of fear coursing through them. She takes a deep breath, “Just.. get up soon, it’s pretty late, even for a Saturday,” she finishes her sentence while closing the door behind her.
Once Donna was gone, Ricky pulled Ben in close again. If even just for a second more, he wanted Ben to be close to him. If it were even just a second more, it’d make all the difference in the world.