#minimitchell

“Well, seeing as you can’t just go smashin’ people’s heads in without being arrested again, why don’t I take you somewhere you can get your anger out without hurting anyone?” He swings the hammer above his head, like some sort of ridiculous imitation of the hot blonde god man from that movie Callum forced him to watch the other night. Ben smiles despite himself, though the anger stills simmers in the pit of his stomach. He sighs loudly, hiding his face in both hands.

“I can’t just go swannin’ off right now, I’ve got to fix this mess and-”

“The deal is over, Ben!” Callum says, with a strict tone of authority in his voice that rumbles through his chest. It stirs something hot (definitely not anger this time) between Ben’s thighs, but before Ben can comment on it Callum continues talking, “You’re just gonna have to accept it and move on to the next dodgy deal. There’s always something else on the horizon. You’re a Mitchell, after all.”

Ben hears what Callum’s saying, but it still doesn’t help his current mood.

“You’ll be a Mitchell yourself soon enough.”

Callum smiles shyly, like the reminder of their upcoming nuptials is making him hot under the collar. Ben likes the different sides of Callum. He’s always so reserved in public, playing into the nice guy act that’s been laid at his feet. But Ben knows there’s a switch inside his man that when flipped, can turn from kind and sweet, to forceful and authoritative. He doesn’t see that side often, prefers his goofy sop too much, but every now and again Ben loves it when Callum takes control. He needs that Callum now, so he indulges whatever plan Callum has in store for them.

“Come on then, lover boy. What’s this mad idea of yours then?”

 ***                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

They drive for about thirty minutes, give or take, out of town. Ben can’t tell where exactly Callum drives, but his man seems to know exactly where he’s going so he doesn’t question it.

Eventually they arrive, as the sun starts its descent for the evening making a pretty picture of gold and red in the sky. It distracts Ben enough that he doesn’t notice Callum has parked them up on the side of the road.

When they step out of the car Ben is still just as confused as ever before. He can’t see anything other than an old abandoned railway carriage and some scrap metal. There’s literally no one around for miles and barely even a streetlight in sight. He turns to look for Callum with a furrowed brow.

“Is this it?” He says, to which his man pops his head out from behind the boot of the car with a smirk and a double eyed wink and chucks him some safety goggles he must have nicked from the Arches. Ben is still none-the-wiser as he examines the goggles, like they’re about to sprout wings and take off.                      

Callum chuckles at him, and once he’s secured his own goggles onto his face he outstretches his hand for Ben to take. Ben follows suit with his own goggles and grips Callum’s hand in his.

“Come on.” Callum says pulling him along, still smiling his megawatt smile, which continually thaws away at the cracks in Ben’s ever diminishing anger.

Eventually they make it to the other side of the tracks where Ben spots a line of abandoned cars; some smashed to bits and others still intact, but mostly it’s all just junk that not even a mechanic as good as he is could salvage.

“Babe, are you gonna tell me why you’ve dragged me half an hour out of town to some abandoned railway track with cars you know full well ain’t worth anything?”

He watches Callum bend over (sneaking an eyeful of arse while he can) to see that he’s picked up what looks like a rusty crowbar, which he passes to Ben. He then takes out the hammer he’d stashed in his pocket from earlier, his weapon of choice apparently.

“Stuart and I used to come ‘ere when we was kids. Whenever things got rough at home he’d bring me here and we’d take our anger out on the cars instead. There’s loads more now, though. Not been in years.” Callum looks wistfully over at the cars for a minute, caught in a memory, before turning his full attentions to Ben. “If you want to smash something, take that,” He eyes the weapon now in Ben’s hand, “And smash some windows. It’s pretty therapeutic.”

It’s not the worst idea in the world, Ben thinks, but it’s not something he’d have chosen for himself. He’s willing to give it a go, though it does help when Kheerat’s smug voice rings through his ears, ‘oh, sorry- is this where I’m meant to be scared?’

Ben doesn’t know what comes over him after that, as the red mist descends. He can’t hold it in any more as he takes a deep swing at the nearest car. He screams into the force of it, taking pleasure in the way the window makes an almighty crack before shattering under the weight of the metal.

Ben takes a few more swings, getting more and more into it as he goes, not even realising that Callum is just standing by and watching his display of outrage.

After a few more swings, and some satisfying shatters he pulls back to catch his breath, glad for the quick reprieve. But as he does he senses Callum’s presence behind him, when suddenly he’s being spun, shoved and full body slammed into the framework of the car and Callum’s rough lips are crashing into his before he can even get a word in.

The adrenaline zapping through Ben’s veins forces him to push back into Callum’s body as he dexterously twists them so that Callum’s spine is now backed up into the car, crowbar long forgotten, as he paws at his fiancés clothes and attacks his neck with razor sharp teeth, latching on and creating a whopping great bruise just shy of his collar line, one Callum will be shyly explaining away for the next few days.

“Jesus, Cal-” Ben pants as he pulls back with a deep groan. “What’s gotten into you?”

Callum sinks further into the car and runs a shaky hand through his now floppy hair, panting against Ben as he persistently grinds against Ben’s thigh.

“You just looked so hot when you really got into it. I needed to get my hands on you.” He breathes out bashfully, a hint of pink lining his cheekbones and the tips of his ears.

“The bad boy thing really gets you all hot and bothered, dunnit?” Ben chokes out a dark chuckle, absolutely delighted, and not entirely surprised at the turn of events. “So this here, tonight, wasn’t really about me, was it? You just wanted to watch me unleash the beast, huh?”

Callum lets out a hot breath of laughter at the phrase, but he’s shaking his head in response.

“Bet you feel better now though, don’t ya?” Callum says, daring him to oppose.

And Ben lets that sink in. He really does feel better. The anger from earlier is completely wiped from his system. All he wants now is to take his horny fiancé home and show him how bad he can really be.

“Thanks, babe,” He says gratefully, “you always know what I need.” Ben kisses him softly before sneakily urging his thigh a little higher up Callum’s leg to emphasise the endgame in sight. He pulls back, “Now it’s my turn to give you what you need.”

They race each other back to the car and into the back seat.

All that can be seen in the lingering darkness of the evening, with not a streetlight in sight, is the silhouette of a bobbing head, and the not at all subtle rocking motion of a car.