𝘽𝙀𝙉𝙉𝙔

Benny was just.. so used to a very different reaction to his presence, his jokes. Used to genuine eye rolls, harsh words and dismissal- he often leaned into the assumptions that he was just an annoying prick, if that was all people wanted to see. But talking to Eddie, who actually listened, who rolled his eyes but still kept a smile, who hadn't just told him to fuck off. God, he was really letting his guard down.

It had to be the alcohol. Totally.

And with that, he took Eddie's response completely the wrong way. 'Trying to'? 'As long as we both manage to last that long'? Despite the nonchalance in his tone, it sure sounded like a proposition, an honesty that caught Benny off guard.

His ears prickled with heat, the sensation bringing him back to Earth, realising he'd been staring- and no fucking way was he blushing.

"Hah-!" He hopped to his feet suddenly, like his body had decided on it's own that it couldn't sit still any longer, totally nothing to do with the fact that Eddie's unintentional charm was actually working on him.

"You think I'm lucky?" Benny asks suddenly, tilting his head with that same grin back in full force- only now there's something guarded about it. "I guess time will tell." He swirls what’s left in his glass again before downing it in one sharp motion. The burn feels good, but nothing compared to the warmth crawling under his skin from how close they'd just been.

But in the blink of an eye, the impish little smirk on Benny’s face that was practically permanent had faded into what looked like sheer surprise. He stared like a deer in the headlights: wholly out-of-character, from what Eddie had gleaned so far. And, had they not been sharing a drink, Eddie would’ve put more weight on the blooming red in those cheeks—rather, what it could possibly mean.

The saving grace for both of them in that moment (far from willing to exercise any other option) was the alcohol in their systems. It didn’t stop Eddie from finally uttering a blunt, “What?”

—that just as quickly went ignored when Benny abruptly bounced to his feet. (Was he evading something now . . . ?)

Eddie blinked back at him, maintaining himself in the present while simultaneously tucking away in his brain the weirdness of this current shift . . . something to explore personally later (even if some part of him determined lingering on it would do him no good in the long-run). He watched Benny down his drink, caught a certain air of dismissiveness, now—as if the guy had, in those few seconds, decided he was done with this . . . done with Eddie. But then, after a few well-placed remarks, he extended another invitation.

And it was all Eddie could do to not simply gawk at the whiplash.

“Uh— Yeah. Yeah, coming.” He got to his feet, finished his own drink, then exchanged a meaningful look with the bartender that silently expressed, I’m gonna need another one, thanks, before pivoting after Benny. He noted the staggering steps of the other, and despite realizing he probably didn’t have much of a right, Eddie rejoined his side in a proximity that would let him steady Benny if he needed it.

He had no idea what the hell he was acting like, other than a dumbass. God, he was a dumbass. A stupid, red-faced dumbass. He had to just play it off, to try and brush past that weird moment where he'd almost, almost felt something. No, it was just the alcohol. It had to be the alcohol. That, and Eddie's dumb cute face.

It was pretty childish, the way he'd practically fled the bar- but he needed a distraction, something to keep his hands busy, an excuse to move.

"I caaan handle it!" Benny argues back with a lazy wave of his hand as Eddie catches up to him, joining at his side once more with that same proximity- though he doesn't move away from it, not even close. If anything, he leans in just a fraction, like a drunk moth to a flame.

He pats Eddie's arm for no reason at all other than his usual over-familiarity and insistance that he's totally feeling normal. "I've still got balance! And speed! That's like.. half the stuff I need to not die!" He follows this with an accidental sway to the side before catching himself on Eddie's arm.

"....See? Reflexes." Grinning like he just won something.

..Fuck, it was so cute.

His actions had been somewhat deliberate, flirty but innocent- he wasn't expecting any sort of back and forth with his antics, not with Eds.. and yet, he'd willed an unexpected reaction out of him, like he'd thrown the ball into Eddie's court, and it'd bounced right back just to hit him in the face.

God he wished something or someone would hit him in the face right now, he was certainly staring way too hard, smiling just a little too fondly.

The hand batting at his own finally broke the tension, and snapped him out of whatever dumb trance his acquaintance had enraptured him in, gracing him with some much needed alcohol- after stealing another swig of course, earning a laugh from Benny.

He leaned back once more, fingers lingering on that knee for a touch longer, before ultimately sliding off and returning to the bar, where they rested on the cold wood, warmth lingering in his fingertips.

When that hand slowly slid away from his knee, the spell officially broken for good on both ends, he was left believing he was losing his mind. Which didn’t bode well for the rest of his time here, if that was already happening.

For crying out loud . . . 

He ran a hand over his forehead, down the side of his face while wrestling that self-admonishing pattern of thinking. When Benny’s tone took on a questioning lilt, Eddie peered back over. Slowly, again, he processed what had been broached. “Trying to,” he admitted, mostly because he figured it would be easy to pretend he meant the literal game show and not . . . whatever the hell was going on here. “As long as we both manage to last that long.”

Benny was just.. so used to a very different reaction to his presence, his jokes. Used to genuine eye rolls, harsh words and dismissal- he often leaned into the assumptions that he was just an annoying prick, if that was all people wanted to see. But talking to Eddie, who actually listened, who rolled his eyes but still kept a smile, who hadn't just told him to fuck off. God, he was really letting his guard down.

It had to be the alcohol. Totally.

And with that, he took Eddie's response completely the wrong way. 'Trying to'? 'As long as we both manage to last that long'? Despite the nonchalance in his tone, it sure sounded like a proposition, an honesty that caught Benny off guard.

His ears prickled with heat, the sensation bringing him back to Earth, realising he'd been staring- and no fucking way was he blushing.

"Hah-!" He hopped to his feet suddenly, like his body had decided on it's own that it couldn't sit still any longer, totally nothing to do with the fact that Eddie's unintentional charm was actually working on him.

"You think I'm lucky?" Benny asks suddenly, tilting his head with that same grin back in full force- only now there's something guarded about it. "I guess time will tell." He swirls what’s left in his glass again before downing it in one sharp motion. The burn feels good, but nothing compared to the warmth crawling under his skin from how close they'd just been.

There was a looseness to his motions, he wasn't drunk yet of course, but he could practically feel the buzz of alcohol taking effect as his head slipped just slightly against his hand, he blinked a little slower, his mouth in a warm grin. No sharp edges.

And unfortunately for Eddie, he could see through that wall he put up. Not fully of course, he didn't know what the guy was really thinking, but he could tell at least that he was enjoying his company, as much as that made Benny question why. Maybe he wanted something? But if he had, he'd have called in the favour by now.

It was weird. This guy was weird.

Benny was fascinated.

"Well~ Thank you, Eds." He responded rather cheerfully, his ego sufficiently stroked at the compliment. "And what about you, hmm? Naturally that dark?" Benny pried, making small talk, but also lasering in on Eddie's features- now that their appearances had been called into question.

He's handsome, yeah. Duh. His skin slightly pale, probably from not getting out much, and his undereyes housed some dark circles that only added to his resting 'done with your bullshit' look- But Benny was so drawn in by the stoicism. "And the hairstyle too-" he pondered out loud, his curiosities taking over his instinct as he leaned in- far too close, far too familiar.

His head lifted from his hand, this hand coming to rest on Eddie's knee as nonchalantly as anything as Benny leaned forwards, his other hand swiftly raising to cup over the long bangs that covered half of Eddie's face. Of course he'd noticed it, the hidden part.. but he hadn't drawn it into question until now. "Got a reason to hide such a cute face? Or was this costume too?" he teased at moving the bangs, his fingers tracing the edge like an actor peering behind the red curtain. Would his expression still be so fond? Would Benny realise that maybe he'd interpreted every look, every micro expression, completely wrong?

Because he was more than simply in his space, now. Lacking all hesitation, shame, anything of the sort, a hand oh-so-nonchalantly found his knee as if it belonged there (and had staked a claim ages ago, at that). And maybe it was that inexplicable “belonging” that kept Eddie from reacting as he would (or should?) have: something about it didn’t feel offensive—didn’t feel unwanted. Quiet acceptance maintained that he wouldn’t shuffle away, but also wouldn’t yet encourage that advance with one of his own . . .

At least until another hand followed suit, and he was pretty sure this was what people meant about brains “short-circuiting.”

This time, he flinched merely out of surprise. A small, barely noticeable jerk in his shoulders, followed by rapid, dumb blinks as he straightened in his seat and stared equally dumbly at the face now taking up most of his vision. As fingers pranced impishly along the curtain of hair covering his eye, it was all Eddie could do to not totally balk. He hardly processed anything Benny said. How could he when he was this close? When Benny looked at him like that? Unapologetically enraptured. Or . . . dammit, no— 

Who was the enraptured one here? Eddie was positive Benny had to be over-the-moon by how utterly pathetic his expression must’ve seemed. (Would’ve sold the whole picture if his jaw was hanging, too . . . Thank God.)

..Fuck, it was so cute.

His actions had been somewhat deliberate, flirty but innocent- he wasn't expecting any sort of back and forth with his antics, not with Eds.. and yet, he'd willed an unexpected reaction out of him, like he'd thrown the ball into Eddie's court, and it'd bounced right back just to hit him in the face.

God he wished something or someone would hit him in the face right now, he was certainly staring way too hard, smiling just a little too fondly.

The hand batting at his own finally broke the tension, and snapped him out of whatever dumb trance his acquaintance had enraptured him in, gracing him with some much needed alcohol- after stealing another swig of course, earning a laugh from Benny.

He leaned back once more, fingers lingering on that knee for a touch longer, before ultimately sliding off and returning to the bar, where they rested on the cold wood, warmth lingering in his fingertips.

And yet here he is, and Benny's actually enjoying his company. The conditions of their meeting aren't exactly conventional, but he's determined to make the best of a shit situation. Which in Benny's case, unfortunately, often means getting hammered. He's not sure the last time he drank before he got caged, and not sure of the last time he was sober before that- so having a bar here is truly a shining beacon to him, despite the dusty bottles and scuffed up floors. Not the finest establishment, but it will do.

He knows that realistically in a situation like this it's probably best to keep your wits about you, but he got so lucky in that roulette game! And it's not like he's incapable of functioning while drunk, if anything it just makes him more agile; he can name more than a few instances of frenzied car chases where he's functioned perfectly fine, despite the excess of alcohol in his system.

The lack of response at his teasing does surprise him a little, he'd expect anyone to vehemently deny something like enjoying his company, so it throws him off a little when Eddie doesn't. Though he doesn't have time to dwell, as Eddie commits an atrocity against him- taking his drink. Telling him to slow down, of all things. If there's one thing Benny refuses to be, it's slow.

Still, he puts on his best kicked-puppy act when Eddie drags his drink away, slumping over the bar with an exaggerated whine, trying to follow that hand and grab at his drink, it slips further from his grasp. "Nooo, I can handle my liquor!" he argues, pouting childishly as he looks to Eddie, his head laid on his own arm that's outstretched along the bar toward the drink. He doesn't bother trying too hard to get it back, staying firmly seated in his stool for now. If he really wants more alcohol that bad, he'll get it when the time comes, one way or another.

But, then again, maybe it was Eddie who just needed to reignite (or just . . . ignite in general) something in his life that’d give him that. (What a ridiculous thing to say while on a death game show.)

“Bet you can,” he commented lazily at Benny’s defense, but he still didn’t budge with giving the drink back. It was a funny thing, really: since technically everyone else here was an opponent—a contestant against which Eddie had to win to survive—it’d make more sense to let the dummy screw himself over. Just like it’d make sense to not grow attached, to not care. To keep a safe distance and look out for himself first and foremost. And for a guy who kept his own company in general, Eddie thought it would’ve been easy.

It wasn’t. It wouldn’t be, the longer he spent surrounded by all of these . . . criminals. (No, fuck that; they were people.) —the longer he spent around Benny.

Sure, Benny wasn’t his responsibility. He wasn’t a child; he could take care of himself, but even so . . .

There was a looseness to his motions, he wasn't drunk yet of course, but he could practically feel the buzz of alcohol taking effect as his head slipped just slightly against his hand, he blinked a little slower, his mouth in a warm grin. No sharp edges.

And unfortunately for Eddie, he could see through that wall he put up. Not fully of course, he didn't know what the guy was really thinking, but he could tell at least that he was enjoying his company, as much as that made Benny question why. Maybe he wanted something? But if he had, he'd have called in the favour by now.

It was weird. This guy was weird.

Benny was fascinated.

"Well~ Thank you, Eds." He responded rather cheerfully, his ego sufficiently stroked at the compliment. "And what about you, hmm? Naturally that dark?" Benny pried, making small talk, but also lasering in on Eddie's features- now that their appearances had been called into question.

He's handsome, yeah. Duh. His skin slightly pale, probably from not getting out much, and his undereyes housed some dark circles that only added to his resting 'done with your bullshit' look- But Benny was so drawn in by the stoicism. "And the hairstyle too-" he pondered out loud, his curiosities taking over his instinct as he leaned in- far too close, far too familiar.

His head lifted from his hand, this hand coming to rest on Eddie's knee as nonchalantly as anything as Benny leaned forwards, his other hand swiftly raising to cup over the long bangs that covered half of Eddie's face. Of course he'd noticed it, the hidden part.. but he hadn't drawn it into question until now. "Got a reason to hide such a cute face? Or was this costume too?" he teased at moving the bangs, his fingers tracing the edge like an actor peering behind the red curtain. Would his expression still be so fond? Would Benny realise that maybe he'd interpreted every look, every micro expression, completely wrong?

His grin doesn't falter however, if anything, it sharpens at Eddie's comeback. "And here I thought you were enjoying my stupidity." He takes a lazy sip of his awful drink, watching Eddie over the rim.

The alcohol is so damn strong it's (welcomed) already kicking in. His fingertips tingle- or maybe that’s just the absence of Eddie’s warmth still buzzing under his skin. Either way, the sensation makes him flex his hand, restless, before dragging his fingers through his already messy orange hair. His movements are still sharp, still deliberate, but there’s a looseness creeping in at the edges, the kind that makes his grin just a little too wide, his leans a little too far into Eddie’s space.

"Ohhh, Eds," he coos, leaning in just enough that his voice drops to something low, quiet. "You say that like stealing my time ain't exactly what you want." He's only teasing the guy, not realising how much he's actually reading him like a book.

It was just as innately encouraging it. Consciously or not, as the guy soaked up more of his space and made it theirs, Eddie ever so slightly shifted to join that effort.

He ignored that this was dumb. He ignored that nothing of what was happening between them could really actually mean a goddamn thing. He ignored where they were, what all of this meant, how real it was that either of them could be dead within the next 24 hours.

(Or maybe it was all of those reasons that had him acting bolder than usual. . . .)

Point was, as Benny crowded him and spoke in that low drawl, Eddie knew he didn’t stand a chance. And he wasn’t even mad about it. He just squared the mischievous glint in those eyes, noticed the growing flush of alcohol-induced heat in Benny’s cheeks, and hummed noncommittally. No answer. No denial. No confirmation. Eddie figured, despite having just called him stupid, Benny wouldn’t need any of that to draw conclusions.

He’d let him.

“Noted,” he said within a shrug. “Try my best not to disappoint you too much. Until then . . . ” His hand reached out to Benny’s glass before he could go for another drink, planting his palm over the top of it as an effective block. “Slow down a bit.” He dragged the cocktail across the counter, farther away from the other’s reach. “We don’t really know what to expect here, but being totally shit-faced doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

Though, with the way Benny acted thus far, Eddie figured he wasn’t really the type to settle for being just buzzed. He redirected the topic in a feeble effort to distract:

And yet here he is, and Benny's actually enjoying his company. The conditions of their meeting aren't exactly conventional, but he's determined to make the best of a shit situation. Which in Benny's case, unfortunately, often means getting hammered. He's not sure the last time he drank before he got caged, and not sure of the last time he was sober before that- so having a bar here is truly a shining beacon to him, despite the dusty bottles and scuffed up floors. Not the finest establishment, but it will do.

He knows that realistically in a situation like this it's probably best to keep your wits about you, but he got so lucky in that roulette game! And it's not like he's incapable of functioning while drunk, if anything it just makes him more agile; he can name more than a few instances of frenzied car chases where he's functioned perfectly fine, despite the excess of alcohol in his system.

The lack of response at his teasing does surprise him a little, he'd expect anyone to vehemently deny something like enjoying his company, so it throws him off a little when Eddie doesn't. Though he doesn't have time to dwell, as Eddie commits an atrocity against him- taking his drink. Telling him to slow down, of all things. If there's one thing Benny refuses to be, it's slow.

Still, he puts on his best kicked-puppy act when Eddie drags his drink away, slumping over the bar with an exaggerated whine, trying to follow that hand and grab at his drink, it slips further from his grasp. "Nooo, I can handle my liquor!" he argues, pouting childishly as he looks to Eddie, his head laid on his own arm that's outstretched along the bar toward the drink. He doesn't bother trying too hard to get it back, staying firmly seated in his stool for now. If he really wants more alcohol that bad, he'll get it when the time comes, one way or another.

you wouldn’t have thought that they’d keep this place open when the staff weren’t there to pay attention. So noticing that everyone was gone for the night, Benny decided to use this opportunity to see if there was any loose chips that he could take.

He peeked behind all of the stalls, the food booths, and had just started to hit on the slot machines before an annoying voice called out to him.

“What are you doing here?”

Vega had been standing infront of the food booth to see what it had to offer, even though the food looked disgusting and there was no one there to order it from. Which could’ve been seen as just as weird as what Benny was trying to do

Benny freezes, hands half-shoved under the slot machine and slowly lifts his head to meet Vega's gaze, like a wild animal caught digging through trash. Vega stands not far from him with a puzzled, almost judgy expression.

"Uh." He grins, totally innocent. "Just taking in the ambiance, obviously." Benny gestures grandly at the deserted casino floor, his other hand still casually wedged between the garish carpet and the underside of the machine.

× 、: ☆・" well I was going to get something that I… left here. But I can just get it later if you’re going to do whatever you’re doing. "

Vega was never a great liar. It was one thing to hesitate just as you’re about to make up an excuse, but it was another thing to know that there was nothing left in this place anyway. What could she possibly leave in there that wasn’t noticeable to Benny anyway? It’s not like she carried things around all of the time.

× 、: ☆・" I was looking for a… handkerchief. I don’t actually know if I dropped it here or not though. "

Of all the random things she could think to be looking for, a handkerchief? Amazing. Benny also doesn't expect Vega to take him up on the half-joking offer, but hey--he did offer (sort of). And he's got nothing else going on, so whatever. He'll play along. Plus, there's something almost fun about watching Vega scramble for an excuse.

“You!!! You’re the one the orca flogged live for the world to see!! And then you disappeared! You weren’t hurt were ye, matey?”

Benny had been loitering in the gambling hall of the studio, rolling a chip with his fingers as he leaned up against a wall. He'd been eager to win some chips back after his joint loss with Eddie, so he'd missed out on most of the events that had unfolded since, only spotting people now and then as he zipped around the place.

He did, however, vaguely recognise that voice as it permeated the music of the hall, blinking in surprise behind tinted shades as he saw the teen running over to him, a little thrown off by his eagerness. (Orca..? ohhhh, Eddie).

However, soon enough he's smiling in amusement, instinctively bringing his gloved hand up to rub at his cheek, which still admittedly ached a bit. "Heh- nah, I can take a hell of a lot worse than a slap from little ol' Eds." He joked confidently, unaware that Eddie had definitely gone easy on him, since he'd come out relatively unharmed.

“We have!!! That’s Sharkbag! I’m his captain now, hi!”

"Captain, huh? Fancy." He grins, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair and eyeing Sailor with curiosity. "So what's your deal then? Gonna recruit every poor bastard who gets zapped or somethin'?"

At being asked about his ‘deal’, Sailor seems to try and collect and amass a good way to put things, while that steady unstoppable grin stretches back into place.

“Not all of em! Just me crew, and the people willing to stick out a hand for others. I’m a good judge if character, y’know? If you’re not a crew member, we can still offer a helping hand or two as fellow contestants too! Especially since you seem cool!”

"Good judge of character is a decent skill to have in a place like this." He comments, wondering who else Sailor might have deemed to be a 'good' person, yet seeing him as a little naïve for choosing to trust any of them. Although, he does win his favour back just a touch when he compliments Benny, the 'cool' comment feeding his ego.

“And it’s a good place to have people that watch your back! Even if just a little.”

Sailor copies Benny’s rocking with a light in his eyes, like a genuine curiosity about the man. As a person, not an opponent or a criminal. He seems thrilled to just be meeting him more properly.

The mention of Sailor's crew almost flogging Cupid makes his eyebrows shoot up- an approval in his smirk. "Okay, now I see why Eds hangs around you guys." Admittedly, he previously thought their group seemed a lost cause, but Sailor is selling them pretty well.

“Best not let appearances fool ye! I’ve got a good crew of misfits, but the team’s not two dimensional. I think we’re pretty fleshed out actually when the Orca’s with us.”

Sailor’s hand sways at his side, excited and not knowing what to do with himself. In his mind this was very blatantly a friendship.

"Yeah yeah, Appreciate the offer." He shrugs with a lazy roll of his shoulders at Sailor's enthusiastic offer, as if he'd need any help. Though the trouble part still sounded fun. Still, trust isn't exactly cheap in a place like this, and Benny’s not dumb enough to think favors come free. "Doubt I’ll need it," he adds, flashing a grin. He tells himself he won't take him up on the offer- though, who knows?

Benny inspects Sailor's movements some more as he ponders the kinds of trouble they could possibly get into in this place without getting zapped by those damn shock.. cuffs? Bracelets?

1984 (1949) - jorjor wel

ok bro

you wouldn’t have thought that they’d keep this place open when the staff weren’t there to pay attention. So noticing that everyone was gone for the night, Benny decided to use this opportunity to see if there was any loose chips that he could take.

He peeked behind all of the stalls, the food booths, and had just started to hit on the slot machines before an annoying voice called out to him.

“What are you doing here?”

Vega had been standing infront of the food booth to see what it had to offer, even though the food looked disgusting and there was no one there to order it from. Which could’ve been seen as just as weird as what Benny was trying to do

Benny freezes, hands half-shoved under the slot machine and slowly lifts his head to meet Vega's gaze, like a wild animal caught digging through trash. Vega stands not far from him with a puzzled, almost judgy expression.

"Uh." He grins, totally innocent. "Just taking in the ambiance, obviously." Benny gestures grandly at the deserted casino floor, his other hand still casually wedged between the garish carpet and the underside of the machine.

× 、: ☆・" well I was going to get something that I… left here. But I can just get it later if you’re going to do whatever you’re doing. "

Vega was never a great liar. It was one thing to hesitate just as you’re about to make up an excuse, but it was another thing to know that there was nothing left in this place anyway. What could she possibly leave in there that wasn’t noticeable to Benny anyway? It’s not like she carried things around all of the time.