[Ey what's up this is fuCKIN LATE.

Sorry for taking so long to get another update out. Quarantine got me fucked up, know what I mean?? Ahaaaaaaa.

Anyway, now that I've finished my spring semester, hopefully I can focus on this a bit more.

Hope you all are staying healthy and safe in these tumultuous times. Especially if you live in America too. Man, MEGA OOF amirite???

I fuckin hate politics—BUT ANYWAY. Enjoy this somewhat lengthy chapter, and excuse any typos ahah.]

Stay Creepy~

Chapter 55

Ben's POV

A freezing night in the forest. Little to no moonlight was able to squeeze through the canopy of trees and branches. Middle of nowhere. Stranded and abandoned.

But wait...! A factory. An abandoned factory. Lose him there.

Rats crossed over old electrical wires and debris. Dark and musky with the horrible scent of mildew. Thick cobwebs got in the way but it was better than being caught. A hiding place! An old workers locker. Finally some safety.

Okay, hiding. Hiding, hiding, hiding—

Suddenly the killer, who is an Ice-Cream-Man-Clown appears in front of the slits in the locker and yanks the door open. The nearly butt-naked, dirt-covered girl leaps out just in time as the killer shoved his unrealistically sized buzz-saw—which has a cord attached to it meaning it couldn't actually turn on without an electrical outlet but that's besides the point—into the locker and cut into it with the squeal of grinding metal. The inappropriately dressed girl ran back out of the abandoned factory where there was a police officer—who totally knew to go to the location because the girl didn't have a cellphone so how could she call for help because I'm pretty sure the killer wouldn't snitch on himself and this is still besides the point—and the police officer caught her and attempted to calm her down, asking her what happened.

Before she could even utter a single word in her valley-girl accent that had me cringing the entire movie, the killer RANDOMLY appeared behind the cop without any one of them noticing, and barreled his really, unrealistically sized and impossibly powered buzz-saw into his back. The girl screamed in horror as she watched the buzz-saw slice up through his head, poorly splitting the cop's upper-body in half. It had really bad CGI to boot. It was like...jelly-blood...blood-jelly...?

Reese laughed out loud beside me. "Ha! Strawberry jam lookin' ass."

All of a sudden, for absolutely no reason, something I could've gone my whole undead life not hearing, the clown-man-ice-cream-man gave the one-liner, "How about a banana split?!"

"That's IT, I can't fucking do this anymore!" I exclaimed while Reese guffawed himself to the point of tears.

We both laughed and made fun of the god-awful horror movie, taking shots at jokes that shouldn't have been funny but it was way more entertaining than the actual film. Although it wasn't as if we watched the movie expecting it to be good. Oh, what a wonderful feeling it is to watch a shitty 'scary' film with your boyfriend at sunset, lounging on top of a sexy Chevelle parked at an area that can only be described as a make-out point, like in those old 90's films. Simply fantastic.

"God, I hate horror movies," I sighed.

Reese wiggled his fingers at me and teased, "Because they scare you?"

"Uh, no way," I giggled as I patted his hands away. "Because they suck most of the time."

"Hmm, can you do better than banana split?"

"First of all, don't ever mention that horrendous one-liner again or I will go feral. Second, dude, of course! After all the shit I've seen, I'd do soooo much better than these jumpscare fests," I replied, crossing my arms.

"Oh yeah? What would you do? Shoot me a pitch," he said with a cute smirk.

I might've jumped in my spot too excitedly as I started, "Okay, first of all, the trope of the geeky virgin being the one to survive in the end has gotta go! Killers and monsters don't give a shit. You didn't bang, you gotta go, fuckin' virgin loser."

"Jesus."

I clapped my hands aggressively. "A Jesus horror movie!"

"An exorcism horror?"

"NO. I'm talking straight up the Christ man himself, mowing down people because he has had enough! Crucifix knives and holy water acid! Damascus who? Damas-KISS this holy ass! BOOM. Box office hit."

Reese stared at me for a moment with that look on his face that I recognized as me doing something weird. Then, he sighed and said with a smile, "Thank god you're pretty."

"It's a good idea!"

"Damas-kiss this ass?"

"Uh, it's Damas-kiss this holy ass, my love."

"Really, Ben?"

"It'd be good on a t-shirt."

Reese went into a laughing fit and I got that warm feeling I usually get with him when he does literally anything. After he calmed down, he took a moment of silence and stared at his lap. Then he snickered and said, "N-Naza-rest in peace."

"YOOO." We were both back to squealing with laughter and nudging each other. Naza-rest in peace, fuckin' brilliant! I know how to choose my handsome and genius men.

"I think that's enough of that," Reese said as he turned off his phone, which we watched the movie on. He stretched his arms up as he reclined onto the Chevelle's hood, letting out a cute yawn. I laid next to him, and there we were, staring up at a dimming sky full of purples, pinks, and deep oranges. I could faintly catch the stars beginning to shine, awaiting another peaceful night.

The warm hug of Reese's hand against mine made my face flush and I couldn't suppress my smile. I made the mistake of looking at him and was awestruck by his sweet gaze. It was such a gorgeous look of adoration, a look I could never get enough of, yet it's almost too much to handle.

With a gentle smile, he spoke softly, "I love that you still get that look on your face when I hold your hand."

"What look?"

"Like a dork in headlights."

"Isn't it deer?"

"I said what I said."

I giggled and squeezed his hand tighter. "Well, you can call me a dork in the headlights of love...!"

He noticeably cringed at my words. "I retract my statement," he teased as he let go of my hand and rolled away from me.

"Ah, no you don't!" I chimed and reached for him. In my attempt to catch him, he leaped off the side of the car and I ended up slipping down after him onto the ground. The blonde boy sat on the Chevelle's hood again as he laughed at me.

With a slight frown, I stood up and wiped the dust off of my clothes. While Reese was still giggling to himself, I stepped forward and slammed my hands down onto the hood on either side of him, trapping him. He jolted from surprise and his eyes went wide upon noticing my glare. Before he could mutter anything, I leaned into him and firmly pressed my hands against his hips. All of a sudden, that look of surprise shifted to a mad blush on his caramel-toned face.

Dropping my frown, I smirked and purred to him, "Who looks like a dork in headlights now?"

Reese was rendered a stammering, blushing mess and I felt supremely accomplished. In one motion, I pushed forward and caught his lips into a kiss, cutting off his nervous giggling completely. It didn't take a second at all for him to relent and lose himself in my embrace. His arms rested on my shoulders and his legs hugged my sides, pleasantly wrapping me up against him more. Despite that we've done way worse than this, I could still feel the bashfulness in his hug and in the warmth of his lips.

"Y-You're such a dork...," he murmured in between kisses.

"Says the one who looks like a tomato," I quipped.

"You're a tomato too," he whined.

I chuckled against his lips. "C'mere, Reese 'tomate' Montemayor."

"Ugh, you're horrible," he grumbled, but didn't reject me pushing him down against the hood of the car as I straddled his hips.

After a few moments of solid making out—and I mean making out, like hell yeah—we stopped and giggled together. I couldn't help but caress his face, brushing my thumb against those memorable triplet scars. A random thought came to mind and, as customary, I had to voice it (at times, not always the best idea). Resting my head against his chest, I asked Reese, "Could I...take your last name...?"

He gave me a confused look. "My name? Really?"

"Just your mother's last name. I know you don't like your dad's."

The blonde boy chuckled a bit. "I mean, do you, as a ghost, even need a last name? The legal system doesn't even know you exist."

I pouted. "I don't want your name for legal purposes. I just think it's cute."

He pinched my cheek and joked, "You're such a schoolgirl."

"Meanie, you have to admit it's a cute idea," I groaned.

He pursed his lips as he looked off in thought. "Hmm...Ben Montemayor?"

"See? Benjamin 'sexy boy' Montemayor. It totally goes!"

Reese chuckled so sweet and sultry, I had to resist the urge to swoon right in front of him (or on top of him). His gaze softened and he replied, "I suppose it fits. What about you, though? Do you even have a last name?"

"Me?" I murmured and looked down, trying to think. I mean, ever since I could remember, I've always just been Ben. Aside from that dumb 'Ben Drowned' nickname, I'm just, well, Ben.

Gallagher.

What?

Benjamin Gallagher. You're Benjamin Gallagher.

No...no, I'm not.

"Ben?" Reese's voice snapped me out of my sudden trance. Frowning with concern, he asked, "Are you okay? You have this look in your eyes."

It took me a moment to process what had happened. Once I felt alright, I just stifled a chuckle and said, "Y-Yeah, I'm okay. I got a bit lost in thought, is all." Reese's expression didn't go away, but it did lighten some.

Gallagher.

Your name is Benjamin Gallagh—.

"Stop it...!"

Reese's eyes widened. "I didn't do anything..."

Crap...

With a harsh huff of frustration, I sat myself next to Reese and admitted, "Actually...I lied. I'm not okay, Reese."

He propped himself up to join my side and gently questioned, "What's wrong?"

Resting my elbows against my knees, I grabbed my head and muttered, "Something has been bugging me the past few months. I didn't want to talk about it here, or frankly, I didn't want to talk about it at all."

"What is it?"

With a great sigh, I dropped my hands onto my lap and reluctantly explained, "I'm not sure how else to call it, but...I keep getting these moments where I just....freeze? Like, I stop what I'm doing entirely and just freeze up out of nowhere, a-and go into some bizarre trance. You might've caught me doing that, I'm sure. It's been getting more and more frequent, to the point where it messes with my entire day. I don't say anything, don't move an inch, don't respond to anything at all...! Sometimes it ranges from a quick five minutes to nearly a damn hour of just being....stuck!"

Reese furrowed his brow and remarked, "It kind of sounds like you're experiencing catatonic episodes."

"There's more...," I murmured. "During these moments, I have...images that show up, flashbacks. I...I see this kid, not much older than you actually. But he's...so much smaller, and not very strong, and so...scared."

"Is he someone you knew?"

I grit my teeth and couldn't help hugging my knees to my chest. "I hate the thought of it, but...I think he's me. When I was human. When I was...alive."

Reese managed a soft smile and commented, "Well, isn't that good, in a way? You're figuring out your past life, getting closure."

"I don't want closure!" I raised my voice, but immediately covered my mouth and apologized. Reese didn't seem too fazed by my small outburst, thankfully, just more concerned.

Shaking my head, I continued, "Reese, every time I get these flashbacks, it's just nothing but...pain. I'm—he! He's so scared all of the time. That kid just makes me hurt...! So much pain, and fear, and stress, and despair, like nothing I've ever felt before. I...I hate it. I hate remembering him. I hate the thought that I used to be him; I don't even want to believe for a second that kid was me! I...I hate him!"

"Ben—."

"I hate him and I just wish he would stop haunting me! Everything was so much better without these flashbacks! I don't care about closure! I don't want to remember anymore!"

"Ben, please—."

"Why can't he just stay dead like he's supposed to?!"

"Hey, hey, hey...!" Reese was quick to get closer and hug me tight. With the sleeve of his jacket, he wiped at my eyes, and I caught a glimpse of a crimson stain on the cuff.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, "I'm doing that thing again."

"It's alright, just don't touch your face, okay?" I nodded in response and allowed Reese to clean my face up as best as he could.

"I'm sorry about your jacket," I murmured.

"It doesn't matter," the blonde boy replied. As he finished cleaning me up (he even licked his thumb and wiped it against my cheek to get the remaining blood off, what a dork), he said, "Listen, I won't make you go into detail about why this 'kid' makes you feel such negative emotions. It sounds like a great deal of pain. I'm not exactly the best at comforting people or giving grade-A advice, but I do want to help."

"How do I make it all stop? That's all I want," I lamented with a sniffle.

Reese rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, then took my hands in his, caressing his thumb over my knuckles. "Well, I think the only way to make these flashbacks go away is...to let yourself experience them."

I frowned. "That's not—."

"I know, I know," he quickly added. "It's the opposite of what you want, but hear me out."

Reese paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. He seemed reluctant to console me but whatever it may be, I wouldn't be mad. He's trying to help me and I should let him.

"So," he began quietly, "I can understand where your sadness and frustration comes from. It reminds me a lot of how I used to act when I was younger. After my dad was arrested and my family could finally live freely without him, I still found myself feeling hopeless and depressed. All of the night terrors, tantrums, breakdowns, and memories of abuse kept plaguing me. I thought something was wrong with me. I knew we were supposed to be happier and better off without my dad. At the time, I thought, why the hell is he still hurting us when he's not even here?"

Reese frowned a bit and went on, "Eventually I went to a children's therapist, and although I wasn't a very cooperative kid, the one thing I retained from years of bouncing from psychologist to psychologist was...to allow myself to feel hurt. I fought so hard to reject being angry and scared and that only made things worse for myself, like a lit firework trapped inside of a glass bottle, ready to just explode. I needed to accept all of the night terrors, and breakdowns and bouts of PTSD induced memories. I needed to hurt and realize it was okay. To this day, as much as I hate when I reminisce on my past, I know it's for the better for me to let my mind go through it. To come to terms with what happened to me and my family, how it affected us, and who it made me into today. It's closure."

He scratched the side of his head, obviously feeling awkward, and said, "Sorry to go on. I know my method can't apply to anyone, and I'm not telling you that you should definitely do it. All I'm saying is to consider the idea that maybe, in order to put these flashbacks to rest...you need to accept that scared kid trying to be heard."

A part of me didn't even want to entertain the idea of allowing myself to accept these horrible flashbacks. I had been too hurt and terrified by them countless times, the thought of it nearly made me nauseous. But as I looked into Reese's grey eyes and recognized the sincerity in them, I knew that deep down he was right. I am deliberately rejecting and running away from what is most certainly my past, much to my disappointment. I've gone on so long as a wraith with no origin, no history, no memory. Sure, I've made quite a life for myself with all of my friends, those I love and have lost, but...I guess it's time to face my previous life. How it went...and how it inevitably ended.

With a tired sigh, I said, "I'll see what I can do to manage it. Hopefully, your method works for me like it does for you."

Reese beamed at me, lightening the mood, and wrapped me into a tender hug. "Whatever happens, I'm here to help. You're going to be okay."

My eyes stung with the heat of tears, and thankfully it wasn't crimson this time. I nuzzled my face against his shoulder and allowed him to hold me. The sun on the horizon was almost completely set and I couldn't help but admire the way the warm light blurred and refracted in my teary vision.

"I love you so much, Reese," I told him with as clear of a voice as I could muster.

A gentle kiss to the top of my head. The light squeeze of his palms against my body that made me feel so absolutely secure and safe. He chuckled lightheartedly and whispered so lovingly, "I love you too, Ben 'Montemayor'."

As I pulled away, I managed a smile and chirped, "Aww, you do like the name!"

"Hush, you sentimental baby," he quipped, as he playfully pushed my face away. And then he was on top of me, giving me all the smooches that I could ever ask for. Feeling his lips against my skin, being in his arms, and hugging him so close to my chest, it all felt like an absolute paradise. Although I still felt the sting of pain and frustration over my dilemma, it gradually faded away with every gorgeous smirk and quirky little laugh.

....

Earlier, before I met up with Reese at that cheesy, 90s make-out peak, he had gone to visit Hunter. Good news is that he's been transferred out of the hospital and is now at a physical rehabilitation center to treat his legs. The unfortunate thing about it is that Hunter can't go home for a while, especially because despite getting physically better, his mental state has become worrisome as the days go on. Reese told me doctors aren't quite sure when he can be released. He also told me that they might have to restrict visiting if things keep up the way they are. From all of this news, I can't help but feel awful, like I want to do something to help but can't—a reoccurring theme in my life.

Despite this, Reese and his mother keep strong. At times though, I feel that Reese is trying to hide his worry and pain behind our hangouts. I understand I help him unwind and get his mind off of all of these problems, but I end up worrying that maybe he'll end up bottling everything in too much one of these days. But I try my best to make him happy, to give him all the love and support that I can.

Reese brought me back to his apartment for the night. His mom and his boss Artem are together taking their turn visiting Hunter at the moment, so it was just the two of us for now. Reese lent me some of his clothes to sleep in (probably the billionth time already, might as well consider his closet our closet). A loose shirt and a pair of shorts. While Reese changed into his sleepwear, I messed with the big ol' teddy bear that still sat at the foot of his bed. I guess I must've pulled a face as I trailed off because Reese suddenly piped up and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Mmm? Oh, nothing."

The blonde boy tilted his head at me before finally slipping into his shirt. As he climbed onto his bed with me, he asked, "Is it really okay for you to sleepover tonight?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I can't recall you ever going back to your home for a single night," he commented with a light smirk. I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck, a little embarrassed.

"I'm okay with it, Reese," I replied.

"Of course you'd be okay with it," he said. "I am too. Although I just don't want to be keeping you from everyone you know there."

"You're not keeping me."

He stifled a wry laugh and then placed his hand on my thigh, squeezing gingerly. "When's the last time you went back?"

"Earlier today. I told you before!" I answered with a slight whine.

"For?"

"Work, what else?"

He scrunched up his lips, contorting that baby scar of his. "It's not exactly your home if all you do there is 'work', is it?"

I was taken off guard by his statement and couldn't help but feel some guilt. Unable to hide my feelings, I turned my face away and frowned down at the bedsheets. Reese leaned forward so I was in his sights again and said, "It makes me really happy being able to lie in bed with you every night, it does. But...you still have your friends over there. I don't know a single one, but I'm sure it doesn't feel good to them not having you around anymore. Don't you think?"

Despite my best efforts, I was growing mad. I was mad because he was absolutely right. But...I just can't bear to be at the mansion anymore, not even to play my games or mess with my projects. Things have just become so...different, since...since he left...

I know I should be there, helping Ao go find Jeff. Apparently she's planning a big mission to finally see him and Ellie, but she hasn't asked for my help, or frankly anyone's help for that matter. Although It would be nicer to offer that help instead. But I just...I can't. I can't be there, and it makes me feel like an asshole.

With a harrumph, I inched away from Reese and muttered, "I didn't come to be lectured."

Bad idea, Ben.

Behind me, I could feel the intense scowl radiating off of Reese, but he didn't respond right away. Instead, he only sighed aloud and came closer. I retaliated by scooting away and clinging on to the big teddy bear in front of me. His reaction was to get right on my back and completely envelop me in his embrace. So I sat there with my back against his warm chest, feeling him stare me down so intensely I thought I might squeal. I felt so small in this position, so feeble and submissive. Why...

Why is it turning me on?!

"Ben..." Reese grumbled right at the back of my head and I grit my teeth. Taking a deep breath, I finally said, "Oh, fine...!"

I shifted in my spot so I could face him and went on, "Things have just gotten tense over there so...I don't want to go. I know it's such a bratty thing to say but I feel so suffocated, ya know? There's just too many negative feelings and I don't want to be reminded of everything that's been going wrong. Everything..."

My voice trailed off and I couldn't bear to finish my sentence. I raised my knees up so I could rest my elbows on top and added glumly, "Such a confession...makes me feel like a shitty friend. No...I am a shitty friend. I can't bear to face my mistakes."

Reese didn't say anything at first. He could only give me that sympathetic look of his using those dashing gray eyes. Then, he gently placed his hands on my ankles, pressing with a tender force. All of a sudden, he clutched hard and yanked me forward from my spot. It was so out of nowhere that I couldn't even react. All I did was just lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling wide-eyed.

And then Reese smacked a pillow onto my face, and then more pillows, until I finally moved and wiggled out of the small pile. Before I could question just what the hell he was doing, Reese took me into his arms and we laid together. The blonde boy muttered next to my ear with a frown, "You're such a dumbass."

"I-Is that really something to say with the subject we were just discussing?"

"Yes," he growled immediately and I shut up. He propped himself up to look down at me and said, "Again, I don't know your friends, but I do know that you're not a shitty friend. You're scared. You're confused and don't know how to fix everything, but that's normal. No one in this world can fix absolutely everything at once. Whatever it is that's going on, you can make amends. No matter what troubles, anyone can appreciate honesty. So, be honest to your friends. Okay?"

I managed a shy smile and retorted, "I feel like your inner-mom just came out."

"Do you understand, Ben?" he grumbled in my face and I nodded quickly.

And then, his grimace turned into an upbeat smile as he chimed, "Good." What kind of mood swing is this?!

With a soft air, he trailed his fingers against my cheek and murmured, "I'm your freedom away from a world of crazy. But, promise me you'll work things out with your friends, your family. Nothing is more important than that."

I felt a blush reach my face and replied, "Yes, I promise." Reese scolds me with such a mix of intensity and love, it's hard not to listen to him.

He gave me a sweet smile just as he tugged on my ear so hard, I actually yelped. Keeping that smile, he said, "Who says I can't lecture you? With you coming around so often and practically living here, I think I can lecture you as much as I please."

"Y-Your strict Latino is showing...," I whined nervously.

"Strict, huh?" The blonde boy maneuvered to sit himself between my legs and my body tensed up considerably. Placing his hands on my hips, he muttered, "Seems like you enjoy when I get 'strict', don't you?"

OOOOOOOOOO.

"I-I-I...!"

"Hmm? Where did that attitude you had go? 'I didn't come here to be lectured'?"

Oh no, he's getting scary-sexy! Shit!

"B-B-Ba...I, um, I-I...!"

"Ha, you can't even manage a sentence," he teased me as he hooked his fingers on the hem of the shorts he gave me. "Well then, go ahead and try to give me attitude again, looking like you do now. Then you can see how strict I can get."

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod—

With an evil smirk, I finally responded, "I'd like to see you try, if you can even do that...!"

Reese's eyes flared with both mischief and challenge as he yanked off my shorts faster than I could blink; it was almost inhuman speed. And then, as I bit my lip and watched him reach for my boxer-briefs, the both of us witnessed the whole mood go to shit.

"Reese, mijo, are you wearing your earphones or what? I'm calling you—."

Out of the corner of my eye, Reese's mom had just shoved open the door and was now standing in shock. I managed the courage to shift my gaze and saw her with the wildest blush on her motherly face. Meanwhile, Reese, bearing the same mad blush, couldn't even bring himself to look at her, and was absolutely frozen in place, stuck midway into pulling off my underwear.

Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, Artem came up behind his mom. "Mari, what's wro—moy gospodin—YIKES." He immediately left as soon as he came. Seconds later, Reese's mom also closed the door with the most soul-shaken expression ever, and that was that. After all that, I couldn't help but be relieved I had put on my cloaking chip getting here.

I sucked in my lips and slowly turned to look at Reese, who was equally as soul-shaken as his poor mother. I don't think he even blinked once since she barged in.

Shifting my gaze, I cleared my throat and mumbled, "Maybe, uh...maybe I should put my shorts back on—."

"Good idea."

After I was back to being dressed, we both kinda just sat on his bed, still in that intensely awkward silence. Reese covered his face and began muttering something I couldn't quite hear at first. Taking a couple more seconds to focus, I realized he was speaking Spanish.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Praying."

"I thought you weren't religious."

He steeled his gaze. "I gotta whip out anything than can save my stupid ass."

Finally, with a few more Spanish Hail Marys, Reese had gathered up the fortitude to leave the room and confront his mom. Obviously, I couldn't leave the poor kid to face her by himself, mainly because I knew this would be entertaining as hell, but also out of my love and concern for him.

And also this would be entertaining as hell.

So there we were, sitting at the kitchen table side by side, waiting for Reese's mom to speak. All she's done so far is pace back and forth, deep in thought, still blushing. Some moments she would stop and open her mouth to finally speak, but then she'd go right back to pacing around. Artem was leaning against the kitchen counter behind her, arms crossed, watching her muddle with us.

There was no emotion in Artem's face when he suddenly deadpanned, "So, soplyak, you are gay."

"ARTEM," both Reese and his mom cried out in embarrassment.

"Why are you two getting mad? I am right."

"First of all," Reese piped up as he stood, "I am not gay!"

"Yes, yes, you just happen to have been one moment away from taking malen'kiy here to a happy ending."

"Ay, cállanse!" Mari squeaked. She took a breather to calm her nerves and let the air settle while she wafted her face. Then, with a deep inhale, she came up to the table and said softly, "Reese, mi corazón? You...are...um...te gustan los chicos?"

"Mamá."

"I don't have an issue with it!" she added fervently. "I-I just want to make things clear!"

The blonde boy beside me plopped back down into his seat and covered his face. "I mean...I don't know, mamá. I just...I really like Ben. Me encanta... I love him..."

It took every bit of energy I had not to swoon and scoop him into a hug.

Mari nodded and replied, "Bueno, mi niño. Here I thought you two were just really, really good friends. Actually...a lot of things make sense now."

Reese frowned a bit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing—so, for how long have you been together?"

Reese tilted his head. "A few weeks now."

His mother went right back to blushing as she questioned, "A-And you two...in the room...?"

Much to his dislike, Reese sighed and replied, "Y-Yes, it's exactly what it looked like."

"And, you've already, ahem..."

Reese was practically sweating buckets. "...Y...Yes, mamá."

Artem suddenly let out a restrained snicker and he held his mouth. As quick as he had smirked, he dropped it and muttered, "My apologies, continue."

"I hate this," Reese remarked.

Mari held the bridge of her nose. "Dios mio—okay! This is all a lot for one night. We will discuss these, ahem, 'adult things' another time, Reese."

"Dammit."

Sheepishly, I asked, "Do I have to leave?"

Mari shook her head vigorously. "No, no, it's okay, Benito! Please, sleep here tonight. I don't mind it." And then her baffled demeanor from earlier shifted drastically as she leaned in toward her son and hissed, "You just better not do anything." Reese nodded quickly. Oh, this looks familiar.

"Well then," she beamed afterward. "I'm going to see Artem out. I'll be back."

As the two of them walked toward the front door, Artem shot Reese a condescending smirk, to which the blonde boy sneered back at him for. Then, once they were walking out the door, I heard a smack as Mari's voice piped up, "Tonto! You're just as much of a boy...!"

And then it was just Reese and I once again. Stretching my arms up, I said, "Welp, that was interesting...!"

Suddenly, Reese roughly tugged on my ear again and grumbled, "Jerk, you didn't back me up one bit!"

"How was I supposed to back you up against your own mom and a scary Russian dude?!"

"Ben."

"You give me too much credit. I ain't messing with that."

Despite the annoyed furrow of his brow, he still managed a smile. With a giddy grin, I grabbed onto his hand and drawled, "So, you loooove me?"

"Don't tease me after all that," he grumbled, but didn't protest much once I started kissing the triplet scars on his cheek. A blush tinted his caramel skin and he muttered, "Of course I do, pervert..."

"Ohoh, haven't heard that ol' pet name in a while," I giggled.

Reese grumbled some more. "Hey, stop kissing, that tickles. You're gonna get us in trouble again."

"Me? I'm not the one that almost took my little malen'kiy to funky town."

"You're so stupid!" Reese cackled while I kept giving him tiny kisses on his sweet face.

"Okay, okay," he said, "enough. Let's go to bed. For real this time."

I pouted. "Aw, but I don't like leaving things unfinished. Are you sure you don't want to continue from earlier...?"

Suddenly, Reese picked me up and draped me over his shoulder with ease (my strong man!). As he walked down the hall to his room, he replied, "You really have a death wish, don't you?"

"Only if it's you who's going to murder my a—OW!" While he turned into his room, my head hit the doorframe.

"Oops."

"Meanie...," I whined, rubbing the side of my head.

Despite my deepest desires, we actually did lay down to sleep for the night. It was just us in his dark room, the city lights seeping in from behind his curtains, casting a line across our blanketed bodies. Before, I could never get used to the sounds of the city outside. Apparently it helps Reese sleep better, surprisingly. I guess I've never realized how quiet the mansion could really be. Now I'm a bit more tolerant of the background noise and have found comfort in the sound of a world still awake beyond this little apartment. I've especially found comfort in Reese's peaceful snoozing. Knowing he can rest so soundly helps me follow after him.

While Reese held me close and cradled me in his arms, he removed my cloaking chip and put it on his nightstand. Looking at him, I was brought to such a soft look in his eyes, it nearly shook me. God, I don't think I'll ever get used to that loving gaze of his. It makes my heart pang as if I was falling in love with him for the first time. So absolutely perfect.

Gently, I reached up and cupped his face in one hand, holding him still as I leaned forward to kiss his lips once more. I felt him smile and I couldn't help but do the same. He pulled me closer to him with such a firm yet tender grip. I felt the need in his palms, in the warmth of his chest, in the pang of his heartbeat, in the taste of his lips. How sweet and wild. And it was all for me.

"Beautiful best boy," he whispered against my hair. That was the last thing I heard before he drifted off into sleep, and I followed him into tranquil unconsciousness not long after.

At least, I had hoped for tranquility.

He came back.

That weak, scared boy. He came back.

...But, this time, I'm listening.

...

Everything was packed up and ready to go. Despite going over my things over and over again, I couldn't help but worry that maybe I was missing just one little thing. I've never been on a trip like this before, or any trip actually...

This is good though! My first ever trip, my first ever concert with one of my favorite bands in the whole world, and I get to experience this all with my best friend! Wait, is it too soon and too much to consider Adam my best friend? It's been a few months at this point, and we've done quite a lot in that span of time. I don't know, maybe I'm overstepping. How do I even know if I'm overstepping? I've never had a friend like Adam...or any friends, frankly. Wait...what are friends?

Stop it, Ben, you're stressing yourself out. Point is, Adam will be by your side and that's already fantastic...!

"Ey, what's that look on your face for?" the British boy suddenly piped up, stirring me from my excessive muddling.

"Wh-What look?"

"Like you're having a proper shit."

I couldn't help but blush. "F-First of all, ew, second, I'm just thinking about the trip."

Adam pulled that signature grin of his, something I've come to look forward to seeing any chance I can get. "Excited, huh? Me too!"

With a peppy energy, Adam took hold of his backpack of stuff and started walking out of his room. I quickly grabbed my backpack too and followed him out. We walked out the front door together to his car, which we'd use to drive to the Guns N' Roses concert. Adam took the courtesy of picking me up early so that he could make us a breakfast before we set off. At first I was kind of nervous of how the food would come out since he hasn't had the best of luck in the kitchen, from what he's told me. But, he said he was practicing a special breakfast just for me, and it was a pretty special breakfast indeed. Granted, the poor guy spilled pancake flour on himself somehow in the process, but he still happily served me and Hopper with that stupid smile of his, powdery face and all.

After setting everything in the trunk, we took this chance to give our goodbyes to Hopper. The floofy canine kept wagging her tail and sticking out that big ol' tongue with glee, and seeing her made me wish we could bring her along. Unfortunately, we cannot, but Adam said his mom will take care of her. Although the woman works a lot of hours, she still comes home with enough time to spend; its his dad that's constantly away on business (I can never meet the man properly).

After leaving Hopper inside his house, Adam came up and asked, "You have everything together?"

"I'm pretty certain at this point that I'm not missing a thing," I responded as I opened the passenger door and sat down in the seat.

He came up to the side and leaned on the door. "Are you sure?"

I shot him a look. "What are you grilling me for? I should be the one asking you. You're the one who even forgets his deodorant for gym."

"Oi, it was one time."

"It was more than a few," I corrected.

"Complainer."

"I'm the one that had to deal with your stench, so I think I have every right to complain. Not even world-class colognes could mask you up," I quipped.

"Maybe I should toss my deodorant out on the highway just to spite you," he smirked mischievously as he poked at my head.

With a laugh, I waved his hands away and remarked, "You're obnoxious. You're lucky I like you."

Then, Adam placed one hand on the head of my seat and the other on the dashboard as he leaned forward and drawled in a bad Southern accent, "You like little ol' me? Why, you'll make me blush."

His sudden closeness to me nearly had me blushing instead and I grumbled, "Quit fucking around and get in the car already."

The wanton British teen laughed and remarked, "How feisty you are today, Benjamin. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to allure me. You know how I like attitude."

"I will steal your own car."

"Aye, with what keys?"

"These." I raised up his set of car keys and jingled them loudly.

His snarky expression fell and he exclaimed, "H-Hey, how'd you even do that?!"

"Maybe if you let all that hot air out of your head, you would've caught me," I said.

Despite the stunned look on his face, he still smiled and replied, "You get sassier and sassier by the day, Benny boy. I like it."

"Shut up and drive already," I chuckled and tossed his keys at him.

Finally, after all of his shenanigans for the morning, we set off down the street, out of his neighborhood and onward. "Seriously, though," Adam started over the music from his radio, "how'd you swipe my keys? Where did you even learn that from? Can you teach me?!"

...

It was some hours drive to the next city over. We still had more to go until we reached San Diego, but we made a quick pitstop at a convenience store. After Adam had filled up the gas tank, he went ahead and visited the store to buy us snacks. Hope he doesn't splurge on food; we still have to save up to buy some cool merchandise from the concert.

While sitting in the car, I took out my cellphone to text dad where we were in the trip. Of course he didn't respond, and I don't think he will. Regardless, I think he'd want me to update him. If not he'll just get mad at me for not messaging. Or he might get mad at me for constantly texting. I guess there's no real winning situation...

Just as I pocketed my phone. Adam had come back to the car. As soon as he opened the driver's side door, he threw a bag of chips right at my face with glee.

"Got your favorite!" he chimed.

"Thanks," I chuckled softly.

Upon starting the car again, he remarked, "I got more crisps if you're hungry later on."

I rolled my eyes. "I hate that you call them crisps."

"That's what they are!"

"It's chips," I retorted.

"Oh, stuff it, they're crisps...!"

"Chips."

"Crisps!"

"Chips...!"

"Crisssssps!

"Chips!!!"

We glared at each other the more we bantered, until Adam pulled a sly grin and commented, "Aren't you adorable when you're annoyed?"

I was taken aback and couldn't help but turn away to hide my blush. "Sh-Shut up...!"

The British teen laughed as he steered us back onto the road. "Alright then, I'll stop. Relax and enjoy those crisps."

"Agh!!!"

...

The concert wasn't until 8pm. We had set off at 10am, and had been on the road for over 6 hours now. I took naps in my seat here and there to rest up as much as I could, especially because I was too excited about today that I couldn't sleep last night (either way, I'm sure dad's drunken laughter late into the night would've kept me up anyway).

We finally made it to San Diego, and it was quite the bustling place. Fairly tall buildings and cool looking stores. So many people out and about, so many cars driving through winding freeways. I couldn't help but glue myself to the window as we drove. Ah, I think I can see the bay from here!

"You're not hard to impress," Adam joked.

A tinge of embarrassment washed over me and I said, "Well, I don't get out of the city much. My family doesn't, erm, travel."

He flashed me a quick smile and replied, "This place is a shanty compared to some places back at home. Someday, I'll take you to see all the coolest cities. That's a promise."

With wide eyes, I murmured to him, "Really?"

"Swear on my nan's grave," he boasted, and suddenly took my hand in his without a single glance. It was so quick that I didn't have time to pull away, although...I don't think I want to.

Adam's hand is so warm and nice, also a bit bigger compared to mine. Then again, I am pretty small in general. I always hated that I never grew very tall or had a lot of muscle. Back in middle school, boys always called me a girl, always said I was so weak and starved (because I was), and had fun tossing me around the courtyard because it was so easy to. I always have felt so small and I hated it. But with Adam it isn't like that. I don't mind being small around him. He's always jumping into me for hugs or carrying me around after school, enveloping me in his arms like a cozy blanket. I always feel so safe with him; he'd never hurt me. So no matter what, I'll always enjoy him holding onto me for whatever reason. I'd never let go.

Suddenly, as Adam was passing an intersection, a bicyclist nearly smacked into the side of the car. With fast reflexes, Adam grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and managed to veer out of the way and back onto the correct lane. After my heart was done pounding from the shock, I realized how cold my hand felt all of a sudden.

"Fuckin' nob!" Adam barked as he gripped the steering wheel so hard I could see his knuckles turning white. A couple deep breaths later and he asked, "Are you okay?"

I nodded and answered, "I was just startled."

Adam huffed and remarked, "What a fuckin' idiot. Should've ran the bastard over if he wanted to be in my way so much."

"Adam..."

The British boy dropped his scowl and he sighed. "Right, I'm sorry. Just a bit of road rage."

"Don't go getting yourself thrown in jail before tonight's concert," I joked.

"Afterwards is okay then?"

"I'm not bailing you out."

He pouted playfully. "Won't you at least join me? I'll be so lonely in my little cell."

"I'm sure the other arrested dudes will cuddle up to you just fine."

He groaned. "Ugh, bet they'd smell."

"You're one to talk," I muttered.

"Goodness," he gasped, "again with the attitude! You're getting me all hot and bothered, Benjamin..."

"Please stop talking."

Once again, Adam laughed (music to my ears) and we continued on our way through San Diego.

...

We had a lot of time to kill before the concert, so we got some food to eat and went walking around visiting stores and sightseeing. Makes me wish I had bought a Kodak or something. If only my phone could take pictures like those cooler ones in the market, but that's wishful thinking.

By the time the concert was going to start, the both of us were well-fed and ready to go. We changed into more fitting clothes at a shop restroom. Adam had recommended that I wear something that would keep me cool because it'll get fairly warm at the venue with all the people around. I wanted to, but then I realized that my wardrobe only consisted of sweaters and long-sleeved shirts. To cover my body.

I came out of the restroom stall wearing a blue sweater, my black jeans, and my usual sneakers. Nothing crazy, ya know? But then Adam came out too and it was hard not to stare at him. He always dresses pretty cool but this time was something else. He had on a loose, white muscle shirt with black trousers and his everyday black boots. It wasn't even an elaborate look but I still couldn't take my eyes off of him. His chest was nearly out and he got to show off his arms. He looks really...cool. As he tucked in his shirt and adjusted his belt, he looked at me and chortled, "You look ready for Sunday mass."

Sheepishly, I tugged on the hem of my sweater and said, "Do I look that lame?"

He laughed and came up to me by the sinks. "Relax, I'm only joshing. You look fine, Benny-boy. Although..."

Without any warning, Adam grabbed at the waist of my pants and unbuttoned them.

"What are you doing?!" I yelped.

"Hold still."

"Yes of course, that makes me feel better—as if!" Having Adam's hands near my waist like this made me squirm. I was also afraid he might lift my sweater and find some old bruises. I didn't want to have any conversation about that, not tonight.

While Adam tucked in my sweater, I had to turn away so he wouldn't see my embarrassing expression. In doing so, I looked at our reflected figures in the wide mirror and found myself staring at him mostly. Now that he's wearing such a loose muscle shirt I can see his side and...was he always that fit? Maybe he's been working out? Wait, Adam Churchill working out? The guy who'd rather stay in bed than even get up to eat when he's hungry? The guy who's been training his poor dog to fetch him "crisps" on command? Yeah right! But still, he looks really...

"There," he piped up, and I turned my attention to him instead of his reflection. The British teen patted my side as he chirped, "Try showing off those hips to the ladies, ey?"

Something about the way he touched my side made my body shiver and I hoped he didn't notice.

"Ah, one more thing," he added, then proceeded to ruffle my hair ecstatically. With a big smile, he said, "Maybe that'll help make you look less like a good little Christian lad who got himself lost at the concert."

"Oh yeah? What does that make you?" I muttered and blew a lock of brown hair out of my vision.

Adam wrapped an arm around my shoulders as he purred, "The sly incubus waiting eagerly to taint your soul, muahaha!"

"You know, you can be pretty uncool sometimes."

"Aw, you love me, Ben! As anyone with a lovely mind like yours would. Now, enough lagging about—we have a concert to attend! Come on!"

With that, Adam dragged me along back to the car, and we were off to our event. Finally, the night is here. I almost couldn't believe it. I'll get to see Guns N' Roses for the first time, at my first concert ever, with Adam by my side. I wouldn't want it any other way. This is going to be the best night ever...!