Benji

I couldn’t sleep.

All I could think about was Benji and why he’d felt the need to get drunk, where he’d gotten the alcohol and what had made him so upset. It was tearing me apart.

Everything that had happened recently, well, everything that had happened that had to do with Benji, was so confusing. I really just had no idea what to do.

I wanted to comfort him, so badly. I just wanted to go down the hall to where he was asleep in Kyle’s room, sit next to him and wrap my arms around him, even just hold his hand if that would make anything any better. But I didn’t know how to.

I was still so scared, so completely terrified. I know it’s cowardly of me, but I was so scared that he’d tell me to go away. That he’d reject me like he had less than an hour earlier. I’d only been trying to help him out of the car but he’d shaken me off, and I had to admit that it had hurt.

And at the same time, I was still so angry. I tried not to let it show, but I was completely infuriated about the entire situation.

I exhaled forcefully, pushing my hair out of my face. There was so much going on in my head, so many emotions that I was feeling, that I didn’t even notice that there was someone at my bedroom door until he came in.

“Benji?” I sat up quickly, peering through the darkness, although there was no mistaking his small figure.

All I heard was a loud sniff in reply.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, because it sounded like he was crying again. “Come here.”

Slowly, he ambled towards my bed, perching himself on the very edge of it, facing away from me. His head hung low and his voice shook as he spoke. “Kyle’s asleep.”

Frowning, I leaned forward and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Come here,” I whispered, and helped him to shuffle back so he was leaning against the headboard.

As soon as he was settled, he pulled his knees up and buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

My heart clenched; he was crying. His body shook as he tried to suppress his sobs, as he tried to make it so I wouldn’t know that he was crying again, but every few breaths he’d make a small noise, almost like a whimper, and immediately my anger dissipated.

I put my arms around him, pulling him against me, cradling him as he mumbled his apologies over and over again. I could smell his shampoo, feel his bones through his thin shirt, almost taste his distress, but I was only focused on ceasing his sobs.

When he finally began to quieten, I pulled away, gently tugging at his hands to try and see his face. But he just shook his head, clamping his arms harder around his head.

“I’m so stupid,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry. I’m just stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“No,” I whispered, “no, shh, hey. You’re not stupid.”

He sniffed a couple of times and then looked up at me, his blue eyes peeking above his arms. I tried to smile at him for reassurance.

“You’re not stupid,” I repeated. “What you did was stupid, but you’re not stupid.”

Benji just shrugged and rubbed at his uninjured eye.

“Why’d you do it?” I asked him after a moment.

He shrugged again, looking down at his bare knees. “I… I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I was confused. Really confused, and I couldn’t find Kyle. And this girl offered me a drink, and she looked so nice, and I just wanted to have some fun and relax, and then she gave me another and another and another. And… and then everything happened so fast and everything hit me and I just started crying and I couldn’t stop and then Kyle found me and called you and… I’m sorry, Reid.”

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. “Don’t be sorry,” I told him. My fingers itched to reach over and dry the tears from his cheeks but I didn’t know if he would let me; less than an hour before he wouldn’t let me help him out of the car. So instead I just reached out and placed my hand on his forearm, offering a little support. “It was just a silly mistake. And you’re here now, and you’re okay, you’re not hurt, so… It’s fine.”

Benji nodded almost reluctantly, his hair falling into his face. He turned around and crawled under the blankets, settling himself comfortably next to me, his small body barely taking up any space in my bed.

Exhaling shakily, I lay down properly. I was vaguely aware of how close he was and how suggestive it was that he was in my bed. Yet that didn’t even bother me; I was focused on trying to make him smile again.

“Reid?” Benji whispered, rolling to face me, his face only inches from mine. “Do you ever get scared?”

“All the time,” I told him. His eyes were shining even in the dark, swimming with emotion and traces of alcohol. It was then that I remembered that he was drunk, or at least tipsy, and therefore might not remember everything that happened right now. The thought gave me confidence. “I’m scared right now.”

His eyes widened. “Why?”

“So many reasons.” I brought my shaking hand up to push some strands of hair away from his face. Gently, I traced my finger over the fading bruise around his eye, being careful not to apply any pressure. “I’m scared for you,” I whispered softly. “I’m scared that you’re hurting. I’m scared that you’re going to get hurt again.”

He started to shake his head, opening his mouth to protest. His warm breath hit my lips, the sweet scent of alcohol reaching my nose. But I stopped him before he could speak.

“No, I am. I’m so scared for you, Benji. Absolutely terrified.” My hand was shaking as I stroked his cheek, and maybe he noticed this, or maybe he just wanted the comfort, but he reached up and clasped my hand in his, lacing our fingers together.

“And I’m scared of rejection,” I continued, looking away from his face and towards our hands. I couldn’t help but notice how perfect his looked in mine, how my hand engulfed his smaller one almost protectively. “I’m scared of loneliness, of abandonment. And of being unable to fix things, of feeling useless when someone I care about is hurting.”

After a silent moment, I finally looked away from our clasped hands, looking up to study his face. He didn’t look like he was going to laugh at me or like he was going to walk away. He was frowning, but not because he didn’t understand what I was saying. It was as though he was frowning because he couldn’t understand how I could be afraid of so many things, or maybe he was frowning because he could understand. Maybe he was frowning because he understood too well.

He shuffled closer to me, forcefully nuzzling his head under my chin. My heart was pounding extremely loud and I was certain he’d be able to feel it, but I let him do it anyway, keeping his hand in my grasp.

“I’m scared, too,” he sighed, his breath warming my neck.

I didn’t know what to say, so I settled for silence, just enjoying the closeness. Despite the circumstances and despite the fact that he might not even remember this in the morning, I couldn’t help but be glad that he was here. When he’d shaken me off earlier, I’d thought he was angry at me and that he didn’t want to be anywhere near me. Yet here he was, cuddled up next to me.

I closed my eyes, breathing in deep. I wanted to savour everything about this moment, wanted to somehow capture it and keep it with me forever. There was nothing better. It was just so simple and tender and intimate and peaceful; one of the most beautiful feelings.

Benji moved, rolling backwards, and I opened my eyes to see him looking up at me. He pulled his hand from my grasp and I froze when he placed it on my jaw. His fingers were almost burning my skin, but it was a welcome burn, a burn I’d gladly suffer from if it meant feeling like this. Slowly, achingly slowly, he dragged his thumb across my lower lip.

And then he leant up and kissed me.

I think my mind exploded. So many things started racing through my head, and my heart was thumping against my ribcage, and my lips were tingling where they touched his, and Benji was kissing me. Ignoring everything but him, I wrapped my arm around his body and kissed back, applying pressure to his oh-so-soft lips.

It was so gentle; just his hand on my jaw, my arm around him, pulling him closer. His lips on mine, his lips on mine, he was kissing me.

He pulled away for a split second, before returning, pressing almost desperately against me. In that split second as his breath fanned across my face once again, I smelt the sweet scent of alcohol.

He was drunk.

Briefly, the thought crossed my mind that he had initiated it so some part of him must want this. It occurred to me that it would be so simple to continue to kiss him, to take advantage of his inebriated state. It would be easy to pry his lips open with my tongue, to make him moan and melt into my touch.

But it wouldn’t be right.

I pulled away, watching as hurt and confusion settled across his features. He frowned, the corners of his mouth slipping down, and his hand fell from my face.

A sigh left my lips, confusion clouding my thoughts. He’d just kissed me. Benji had kissed me. But he was drunk, so I really had no way of knowing if he’d meant it or not.

I pressed a small kiss to his forehead, willing it to smooth out the creases there. It was possible that our pseudo-friendship had just been ruined, and yet I couldn’t convince myself to regret it.

A whimper left his mouth as he tried to push away from me, as he shoved pathetically at my chest. But I wrapped both arms around him, holding him as close as possible, refusing to let him leave me. I was being selfish; I didn’t care that it seemed as though he regretted kissing me, didn’t care that he wanted to be as far away from me as possible. I just wanted him close to me. I just wanted to hold onto the beautiful feeling I got when he was in my arms.

“Go to sleep, love,” I whispered softly, when he finally relaxed, hiding his face in the pillow. “Go to sleep.”