A/N So I watched Pitch Perfect for like the zillionth time, and Benji's my favourite character, and I've actually shipped Benji/Jesse since like forever, so this happened. I might be persuaded to write a second chapter. c;
The stage lights on Benji's face were like the sun to Icarus; but hopefully without all the wing-melting stuff. As the crowd went wild, bawling Trebles! Trebles!, Benji turned to Jesse, a balloon of happiness growing within him. Jesse beamed back, eyes sparkling.
Throwing caution to the wind (weeks and weeks of watching Jesse pass by, too close but not enough; listening to Beca this and Beca that; memorizing the constellation of freckles on the side of Jesse's neck as they watched The Twilight Zone), Benji rushed at his best friend and folded into Jesse's chest like he was made to be there.
He could feel Jesse's chest beneath his rumble with incredulous laughter, and he joined in, giddy with their success, and adrenaline, and Jesse's body spray.
Feeling Jesse smile against his hair, Benji felt as if he could perform it all again.
With one hand curled around Benji's waist, they pulled apart, Jesse swinging around to thrust one hand into the air. Grinning fit to burst, they moved offstage with the other Trebles to raucous applause. Benji's heart was singing. Once in the wings, Jesse turned back to Benji and enveloped him in another hug.
"We totally nailed it, dude," Jesse breathed happily into his ear. "And you -" Pulling away just enough, Jesse sobered his expression, his eyes pinned to Benji's, "were awesome."
Laughing goofily (because he has no social skills), Benji flushed under Jesse's scrutiny. "I had a great teacher," he quipped.
Jesse held their gaze for a beat longer, his grin growing. Wrinkling his nose, Jesse ruffled Benji's hair, looping an arm around his shoulders and leading them off.
Benji can't remember being happier.
It's been a few weeks since the Bellas won, a few weeks since Jesse and Beca started dating officially. Benji hides his envious looks in comic books and his astronomy assignments. Jesse shows off his collection of hickeys ritually, and Benji has taken to calling Beca The Vacuum in his mind. He's half expecting it to fall apart – hopes for it, even. But Jesse and Beca keep going. One month passes; then two. They're still going strong.
Beca turns up one evening at the dorm, dressed in a beautiful black dress with her hair all pinned up. She gives Benji a breathless smile, her eyes sliding past to stop on Jesse. And Benji has to step back awkwardly after a moment of deliberation, watching them embrace with him hovering in the background as if he were a bit of furniture.
Three, four.
Benji glances up from his Nintendo DS as Jesse huffs in indignation. The other boy is squinting at the screen of his laptop, the dim lighting illuminating his noble features, the aristocratic slope of his nose. Benji has trouble swallowing.
"What's up?" he asks instead, because he is a good friend.
"This damn – it's our anniversary." Jesse looks up briefly, expression pained. It's more to do with the bowtie he's trying to tie rather than the prospect of Beca that's the cause of his expression, but Benji can't help but perk up for a moment.
Benji watches Jesse struggle for a few more minutes before frowning. "Are you using your webcam as a mirror?"
Jesse's responding guilty look makes him laugh.
"Here, let me." Benji closes the lid on the Elite Four and gets off his own bed, crossing the small space to stand beside Jesse. Sighing deeply, Jesse swings his legs off the bed, his legs either side of Benji.
If he's flustered (which he most certainly is), Benji doesn't show it. Rubbing his lips together in concentration, he focuses exclusively on the task of dressing his roommate (oh, what images that conjures up). His fingers brush the warmth of Jesse's neck, knuckles nudging his Adam's apple. The white dinner shirt is crisp against his tanned skin. Benji works quickly, acutely aware of their proximity. Jesse's breathing gently and evenly, looking up at Benji with platonic intent.
"There you go." Benji pulls once on the bowtie, smiling to himself despite the situation. "I'm a fair hand at those, gotta say. I used to give impromptu performances to our neighbours, and a tuxedo was most definitely -" He meets Jesse's eyes. It's a really fucking bad idea.
Desire hits him like a freight train; like he's been plunged into a vat of boiling water: Benji's breathing hitches. He snatches his hands away as if he's been burned. He can't determine Jesse's expression, the odd flicker of something...
They gaze at each other for a confused moment before Jesse clears his throat noisily and Benji burbles something about Pokemon.
"I'm gonna -"
"Yeah," Benji agrees hurriedly, stalking to his desk before turning back around, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.
Jesse's gotten to his feet. He stands there for a beat, looking completely out of his depth. Which is weird, because Jesse is almost always in control; or he seems like he is, anyway. Benji knows Jesse gets angry, and jealous, and all sorts of emotions that should be a turn off but always has the opposite effect. But even those mood swings seem somehow orchestrated (Jesse pouting theatrically when a guy wolf whistles at Beca as they walk past; Beca's responding blush and splutter when Jesse makes a wry comment; that look of satisfaction when Beca presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, like the cat that got the cream).
There's a burst of the Harry Potter movie theme, and Jesse snatches up his phone from his bedstand, unlocking it. Benji makes a face and mouths What is wrong with me? at the wall. His roommate grabs his dinner jacket and shrugs it on, and when Benji looks at him properly, a low coil of lust twists in his belly.
Jesse manages to take about ten minutes to put his phone in his pocket. He's half-turned towards the door when he looks back, one hand on the door knob.
"I'm being weird, aren't I?" he says, brows furrowed, and grin threatening the corners of his mouth.
Benji snorts with laughter, relaxing. "Yeah, maybe," he replies easily, shrugging and making a silly face.
Jesse's eyes on his warms his chest. The other boy does grin then, the action slow and lazy. "First time I've ever out-weirded you," Jesse comments, tone light. He ducks his gaze for a moment before looking back up, fiddling with the door knob. "You're gonna have to turn the tide on this, y'know."
"Uh," Benji manages, because he doesn't know how to talk to humans.
Jesse laughs strangely and opens the door. "I'm joking! I'm joking." He's in the hallway when he shoves his head back into the room and teases, "Or am I?"
"Just get out!" Benji laughs. Jesse grins, and leaves, and Benji sinks onto his bed thinking What the hell just happened. He runs another hand through his hair. Having a one-sided crush is supposed to be easier than this, isn't it?
The end of freshman year comes way too quickly.
Benji's aced all of his exams – of course he has – and with extra tutoring from him, so has Jesse, to the latter's absolute delight. Benji's already thinking of next year's units – geology and astronomy two and physics – when they're packing up for the summer.
Benji takes down his Star Wars poster with a touch of nostalgia, taking a moment to look over the familiar characters before rolling it up. Jesse's clattering around behind him, tossing things into boxes haphazardly. Ever since he got one of the top scores on his stupid English unit, ("Literally, does anyone even care about Jane Eyre anymore?") Jesse's been swaggering around like a prince. He's already pinched Benji's cheeks (face, unfortunately), twice today. If those fingers come anywhere near him again, so help him Merlin, Benji's going to chop them off.
"What're your plans for the summer?" Jesse asks indistinctly. When Benji turns around to put his poster carefully in a box, he can see Jesse's halfway under the bed.
Eyes lingering on Jesse's ass, Benji's reply is vague: "Probably just staying home."
Hips wriggling, Jesse inches backwards and gets to his feet; Benji's eyes snap busily to reshuffling his deck of cards. Huffing, Jesse holds up a random textbook and gives Benji an I don't even know, dude, look before chucking it in the nearest box.
"We should do something this summer." Benji's speaking. He just spoke. That was him.
But Jesse's expression is neutral. "Sure," he agrees coolly, shooting Benji a smile. "That'd be really awesome. We live kinda close. Consider it a deal," he adds, leaning forward and holding out his hand solemnly.
Benji grins and shakes it, and can't stop the flare of excitement at the prospect of spending summer with his... best friend.
The after-exams party was a total blow-out. The administration turned a blind eye to the crazy antics of their charges, and each dorm is blasting music, laughter and conversation a buzz in the background.
Benji wore a flannel shirt over a worn band tee – one of his best "normal person" outfits, if he does say so himself. He drank two beers and had a tequila shot of a blonde girl's stomach. Head sloshing happily, Benji's body was on a high. The room was spinning slowly, and people loom in and out of his sight as if suspended on strings. He's made so many friends. People are awesome. Why doesn't he do this more often?
Beca and Jesse were lost early on in the night, and that was what prompted the tequila shot. Feeling thirsty suddenly, Benji had stumbled down the crowded hall and into the communal kitchen. It wasn't much: a tiny room ringed by counters and a single minibar, but people are perched on every available surface, drinking steadily. The heady bass reverberated through his skeleton as Benji made his way to the stash of alcohol on top of the fridge, grabbing a random mixed drink.
Popping the can and going back into the hall, Benji somehow made his way into the common room. The people here are thicker, grinding relentlessly to a drunken beat. Benji laughed in delight when two girls started making out on the dance floor, to the ecstatic cat-calls of onlookers. Whooping half-heartedly, Benji leaned back against the wall, one hand in the pocket of his jeans. He took a deep gulp of whatever it was when he saw The Boy.
The Boy was across the room. He had blonde hair that fell into green, green, green (fuck, they were green) eyes. His smile reminded Benji of Jesse. And then his heart hurt, so Benji drained the can of drink, crushed it in his hand and went across the room. Nose to nose, The Boy was just as handsome, his eyes just as green.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," said Benji, before crushing their mouths together.
Benji had sex for the first time that night. Holding onto the headboard of a stranger's bed, the rhythmic banging in time to their gasping breaths. The air was saturated with sweat and semen and beer. Benji reached around and gripped the stranger's hip, guiding his thrusts in a lust-blurred haze. His head lolling forward, heart hammering a tattoo against his chest. The Boy had bit his shoulder as they came. The following morning Benji traced it in the mirror, feeling... complete.
Not weird.
Summer is stretching out luxuriously before him. Benji's days are soaked in sunshine. He's spent a lot of it at his parent's house, but for the past week or so he's been at Jesse's in Columbus.
The house is magnificent, but that's not really been on Benji's radar. The weather has called for major pool time, and the pair have spent every available minute loafing out back, lazily discussing video games or movies or Beca. Benji's not crazy on the last subject, but whatever, he's with Jesse. And Jesse is with him right now, not Beca, so there.
"All I'm saying," Jesse interrupts, waving one hand in the air for emphasis, "is that I'd rather have Tony rescue me than Captain America."
"Are you even -? How am I friends with you?" Benji glares at Jesse from his position in the pool, stuck in a rubber ring. He paddles laboriously over to the side. Leaning against the tiles, Benji points a finger at his best friend. "List here, padawan," he starts, "Captain America –"
"The fact he's from the past," Jesse finishes loudly and facetiously, grinning, "does not mean squat!"
"You're a terrible human being," Benji tells him, eyebrows raised in genuine concern.
Jesse makes a smug look and drinks from his coke can. Benji throws him the finger and pushes back into the middle of the pool. Tilting his head back to soak in the sun, he can't stop the bubble of happiness within him, and smiles. He stirs the water with his hands, lazily moving in circles.
Call it premonition, but Benji knows what's going to happen absolutely before it does.
"No -!" His hurried cry is cut off by a wild whoop, and then he's swamped by a wave of water.
Spluttering, Benji scoops his now very wet hair away from his face. Jesse's bobbing a few feet away, laughing cruelly.
"I reiterate my earlier statement," Benji gripes, though there's no heat to his words.
He swipes at Jesse, who ducks the pathetic amount of water headed his way. Resurfacing, Jesse gulps down some air, then disappears back underwater. Benji watches with apprehension as Jesse's figure splinters and shivers beneath the dappled water's surface. It's only when a pair of strong arms have wrapped around his legs does he cotton on and yelp in surprise as he's pulled downwards through the rubber tube.
The water is cool on his heated skin. Benji is buoyant for a moment in this dark, deaf world, letting the air escape his lungs in silverly bubbles. Finding the bottom of the pool, he pushes off and breaks the surface. Gasping, Benji shakes his head, sluicing the water off his face.
"You're so dead!" Grinning, he opens his eyes.
Jesse's really kind of close to him. The other boy is treading water effortlessly, shoulders only just above the tide of turquoise water. His eyelashes are damp and smudged together, eyes intent on Benji's.
It's as if the air's stolen out of his lungs all over again. A rush of heat overcomes him, and Benji can't stop his gaze ducking down to trace Jesse's lips, the motion so quick he half believes he imagined it himself. But when he looks back at Jesse properly and notices the liquid black of his pupils, Benji's gone.
He's spent on the boy in front of him, and he can't help it for the life of him.
It's nearing the end of summer, and Benji and Jesse are inseparable. They've trooped along to open-air cinemas ("These things exist?", and Jesse's soft responding look, the punch on Benji's shoulder: "You're such an idiot."), taken impromptu road trips ("Jesse, I swear on – on the Starfleet alliance that if you play that Journey song one more time -"), and once, bizarrely, done the grocery shopping together on an emergency mission for Benji's mother (a sidelong glance as they contemplated the row of cereals; startled to see Jesse already looking at him; a genuine, warm smile that's somehow content with this image of domesticity). It's been, really, amazing. Every day is an adventure when with Jesse, and Benji can feel himself changing, evolving. Jesse makes him feel so good about things. It's not like before college, when life was dark, and his parents took him to the psychiatrist for the first time.
They're sitting in Jesse's beat up old car – which is something Benji learned about only recently: Jesse had bought the car himself, turning away his parents offers of a Lexus to prove to everyone that he could do things independent of them. It was during that story that Benji fell in love with Jesse, watching the other boy speak over their burgers, words tripping up and expression guarded. Benji had wanted nothing more than to reach over and grip Jesse's hand.
It's a Monday afternoon, about two o'clock, and they're driving into the car wash. Jesse, because he's a major car nerd at heart, has spent way too long choosing all the different options.
("Hot wax? This isn't a surfboard."
"Don't question, just accept.")
Benji's got his feet up on the dashboard, rounding off an energetic drum solo by the Temper Trap, because apparently alternative music is like, Jesse's thing since Beca. Jesse guides the car into the gloom of the wash with the solemnity of a priest. Inching forwards, he hisses at the car almost runs into the wall; wincing and grimacing until finally they're in place. Benji loves the car wash. It's like being in a cocoon. Or underwater.
He tells Jesse this, who makes a noise of assent and shoots him a wide-eyed look. "Right? I always think it must be what space must be like."
Benji drops his feet onto the floor of the car and half twists around to peer behind them, watching the hot, soapy water fall onto the back bonnet.
"I can totally see Kirk and Spock giving the USS Enterprise a wash," he murmurs absently.
When Jesse doesn't reply, Benji looks at him.
It's this. All over again. Benji looks at Jesse, and something inside him breaks. Jesse doesn't even have to do anything, and it's like Benji's seeing him for the first time.
The pattering sound of water on the roof of the car intensifies their isolation. Jesse's eyes are steady as the ocean. The odd dappled light casts a bluish hue over Jesse's features, and Benji can't help but think If only you could see yourself.
"So I feel like this happens to us a lot."
Benji honestly wants to stab himself in the face. He's like Aubrey, but worse, because his word vomit is all over someone he actually cares about.
A ghost of a smile flickers over Jesse's mouth. He frowns slowly, thinking. "It does, doesn't it?" he says, as if Benji was commenting on the weather.
Benji can't do much else except give an odd half-nod, half-shrug, too startled to speak, lest he break... whatever this is. This has happened to Jesse and Benji a lot, more than it probably should for a guy who has a girlfriend and his best friend, but this time it's different. The machines whir noisily above their heads. Jesse's really close. Benji wants to trace one of his eyebrows, to smooth his thumb along his temple and along Jesse's cheekbone.
Jesse's gaze stutters downwards, and Benji's finding it hard to breathe. His mouth parts a little; so does Jesse's. Benji's pulse is loud in his ears. His entire body pounds with anticipation.
Then, Jesse's moving forwards, and they're kissing.
They're kissing.
Benji closes his eyes, swamped in the overwhelming sense of Jesse. The other boy's mouth is chapped and gentle on his own. It's the smell of car wax and aftershave. Benji cups Jesse's strong jaw and melts into the kiss, moving his lips experimentally against Jesse's. The other boy makes a high sound in the back of his throat and responds in kind, slotting their mouths together with dizzying loveliness. Jesse reaches up to hold Benji's hand to his jaw, and Benji's pretty sure he might do something like pin his best friend to the backseat if he's not careful.
They kiss again and again. Jesse's tongue brushes against Benji's bottom lip and he opens his mouth automatically, and then – fuck – their tongues are sliding against one another. Benji's breathing is shallow. Jesse's stubble is soft under his fingers. He moves up his other hand to clench the front of Jesse's t-shirt helplessly, as if he needs to be anchored. Benji moves from sucking on Jesse's tongue to biting his lip; Jesse moans breathily, sending a bolt of something white hot towards Benji's groin.
Moving deliberately, Benji shifts up so he's got one leg beneath him, the slightly higher angle meaning he can tilt back Jesse's face. He slips his hand up Jesse's chest to grip the side of his neck, fingers tangling in the short strands of hair at the back of Jesse's neck. The other boy shudders suddenly, and when Benji brushes the spot beneath his ear, he does it again.
It's something that shouldn't be as much of a turn on as it actually is.
Benji pushes forwards, kissing with intent. Their mouths slide against one another, lips kiss-bruised and spit-slick. Benji's body is filled with electricity. This can't be happening. Jesse's hand reaches out and lands on his chest, one finger brushing Benji's stiffening right nipple. Okay, yeah, it definitely is.
The car behind them honks. Springing away, Benji snaps up to look behind them, then turns back to Jesse with wide eyes.
The other boy looks equally as startled. A little dazed, eyes slowly refocusing, Jesse sucks in a deep, shaky breath and slumps back against his car seat. Benji hovers for a moment before sitting back normally. They click their seatbelts on. Jesse starts the engine.
When they're a block away from Jesse's house, Benji draws up every ounce of courage he has and touches his fingers to Jesse's ribcage; he starts so badly the car almost runs off the road. Benji pulls away his hand. They don't speak the rest of the way home.