An Invisable Disaster

When his headphones were in, and his feet were tapping, Benvolio lost the world. It happened frequently, mostly when he was walking the streets of Verona, seemingly on his own. 

Today’s poison was Celine Dion. He had no shame in faux belting her lyrics, his hands swinging dramatically as he reached the pinnacle point in It’s All Coming Back To Me Now,and given that he had no perception that someone might be walking right behind them- he accidentally punched them in the face. 

I literally have no idea what you’re talking about- dogs can’t talk, can they?

A small sob forced its way out of Ben’s mouth and he moved eagerly towards Hamlet, trying earnestly not to jostle him too much as he settled in beside him. For a moment Benvolio felt that in some wya they were normal, though perhaps was the least normal thing they’d ever done. “I am so sorry I let this happen to you.”

He could feel his breath stop in his throat, and he brought his eyes up to meet Hamlet’s again, surprised and pleased by the warmth he found there. “You were scared.” His voice came out as almost a whisper. “We don’t live in a world that is forgiving, and you were absolutely terrified.” Ben turned his hand over, his fingers lacing with Hamlets as he gave no thought to overwhelming the boy now. “You came back, and I never thought you would...” He faltered. “But now you’re gone again.”

Benvolio shifted on the bed twoards Hamlet, his hand resting between them, though he fought the urge with evey breath to grab Hamlet’s hand. “Well- we started out as enemies.” Benvolio smiled, thinking of Hamlet’s pigheadedness. “Then as-” Lovers? Definitely not the right word. “Well- we kissed. And if kind of freaked both of us out, a lot. And you got so scared that you ran off for a few months, and when you got back I was so mad at you that we didn’t talk for a couple of weeks. But then we started talking and uh- you told me you loved me.” Ben flushed, breaking eye contact with Hamlet for a moment. “ And ever since then we’ve just been....taking it slow.”

By the second he was losing his own battle of keeping Hamlet in the dark- it was hard when the brooding, insufferable, delusional jackass he was so used to was replaced by this doe eyed boy he just seemed to want to know who he was and what had happened. Just friends- what was he supposed to say to that? “I- er” He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly fascinated by the color of his shoes. “I don’t think there’s a word for what we are.” 

“…Maybe. You’ll just have to try and find out what happens.”

From what?

“Don’t try and butter me up when I’m mad, Ben. It won’t work.”

How mad are you? Too mad for me to hug you?

Any of those have anything to do with you?

Hamlet’s words were thorns in Ben’s heart. and all he could do was manage a slight watery smile before nodding. “Yeah... we- uh... We’re good friends.” Ben walked over slowly and sat gingerly at the foot of his bed. “Some might even say geat friends.” His fingers grazed the blanket and suddeny he couldn’t even meet Hamlet’s eyes. “Fairly certain that we’d do anything for each other.”

“I...well... I suppose you could use that term.”

“So you have absolutely no memory of who I am to you?”

No.... I, er- I’ve never met your mom, actually. Do you know who you are? What happened to you?