#bensonrandy

loves me like a dog - word count: 146,840 - rating: E

mirrors (at the bottom of the well) - word count: 109,227 - rating: E

pairing: Benson/Randy Bradley rating: E word count: 146,840 major tags: canon divergence, Benson lives, roadtrip, slow burn, canon-typical behaviour & violence, first kiss, first time, eventual romance

They don't make it to Miss Beard's place. Mr Sheppard lies in a pool of his own blood and Benson & Randy drive on, and on, and on, and on, and on.

(artworks created as commission by @dad-dumpster, please check out his stuff!)

chapter 1 - they don't even make it to Randy's teacher's house, summer bummer (artwork again by dad_dumpster) chapter 2 - their first stop at a motel, Benson's eyes brighten/dim chapter 3 - Randy's first cigarette, prayer helps chapter 4 - what kind of man doesn't know how to swim? chapter 5 - no need to drive me crazy, i'm close enough to walk! chapter 6 - another cigarette and one very dead bird chapter 7 - nobody puts baby in the corner (of a bar) chapter 8 - stigmata is so last year, Randy concurs chapter 9 - 'it's okay, you can fuck me' chapter 10 - until he decides he wants to stop driving chapter 11 - the old switcheroo chapter 12 - Randy can't go with him, that's just fact chapter 13 - letting a murderer shave your face chapter 14 - on sunday, we go to church chapter 15 - Benson loves Randy like a dog. (artwork AGAIN by dad_dumpster, & personally my fav iteration of it!!)

It had taken three months for Hardy to relent to their complaints that they needed another member of staff. Which was only after an additional two months of overworking themselves and barely scraping through the lunch and evening rushes that came with the steady flow of truckers and commuters stopping by after a day in the office in one of the larger cities out past the telephone lines. Hardy had bitched and moaned as well as he could, twirling a pencil around his fingers and giving them the soft line and then the hard line. But once Donnie had brought up the idea of a union, he crumbled like the small man that he was. 

The listing went out to the appropriate places and an interview was held for a measly four candidates, of which three did not turn up. So, that was that.

Randy's first impression of the new boy, because he was a boy, was the memory that he was the same young man that he’d seen stabbing the end of a penknife into his thumb outside of the lonesome gas station where he filled up his car after work. He’d made brief eye contact with him and then scurried off because the smile he’d gotten in return had made the ends of his hair frizz and his stomach turn. The car he drove was old, a manual transmission, and after he’d fumbled with his keys and got the car going, he had stalled the engine twice with the thought of the tip of the knife slicing through the boy’s thumb. 

“This is Benson—” Hardy said with a small wave of his hand towards the boy, the end of the sentence lingering as if he was waiting expectantly for Benson to fill in the blanks with his surname. 

“Just Benson. Don’t worry about it," Benson muttered instead and Hardy breezed by it and continued on, showing him about the restaurant with a bored resignation that would only be cured by him disappearing into his office and locking the door. Randy had passed by it enough times throughout the day when it was quiet to know that Hardy very rarely did what could be considered real work. The smell of murky, foetid unpleasantness seeped from underneath the doorway regularly, as did the muffled, tinny sound of women moaning. 

For the week, Benson was to be Randy’s “buddy”, following him around and learning the ropes so that he could feasibly be left alone by the end of the five days and Hardy would have yet another peon, someone else to suffer the wrath of his last-minute schedule changes, which he would never ask about prior to opening up the folder that housed the ratty bits of paper he scribbled them onto. Randy had missed at least three important life events in the last few years due to Hardy’s mismanagement and he looked at the back of Benson’s head and thought about the chance this kid might miss his own graduation due to that. 

Although that was quickly squashed when Benson, while assisting Randy moving boxes and boxes of plastic soda cups and utensils into the front from the back, answered Randy’s feeble question of, “So, how come you took this job?”

mirrors (at the bottom of the well) masterlist - 109,227 words - rating E

major tags: road trip, established relationship, RANDY SHAVES HIS HEAD!!!!, (faux) vegas wedding, breeding kink, ear piercings, recreational drug use, semi-public sex, lots of other sex, gender exploration, time skip (for the epilogue)

summary: Randy & Benson continue their journey, leaving Florida behind and heading West. Cresting between love and sheer irritation. The catalytic emotions towards Randy's final pit-stop, someone or something completely different to the young man that was bundled into the car on that last Saturday morning shift.

(once again, amazing wonderful fantastic cover art by @dad-dumpster !!!)

chapter 1: sheared down & hot as hell

chapter 2: conspiracy theories are cool

chapter 3: baby's first hardcore show (but not really)

chapter 4: drownin. not much.

chapter 5: vegas part 1

chapter 6: vegas part 2 - marriage and beyond

tags: age swap (Benson is 21 & Randy is 35), different first meeting, not canon compliant, D/s undertones, semi public sex, frottage

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Randy's first impression of the new boy, because he was a boy, was the memory that he was the same young man that he’d seen stabbing the end of a penknife into his thumb outside of the lonesome gas station where he filled up his car after work. He’d made brief eye contact with him and then scurried off because the smile he’d gotten in return had made the ends of his hair frizz and his stomach turn. The car he drove was old, a manual transmission, and after he’d fumbled with his keys and got the car going, he had stalled the engine twice with the thought of the tip of the knife slicing through the boy’s thumb. 

“This is Benson—” Hardy said with a small wave of his hand towards the boy, the end of the sentence lingering as if he was waiting expectantly for Benson to fill in the blanks with his surname.