"Wanna bite?" Thirteen year-old Ben Braeden offered the multicolored chocolate-candy to Alice Mason. Because yeah, that's how you showed affection in eighth grade. But it felt pretty great.
She smiled. "Sure, thanks." Taking the candy and popping the handful into her mouth, chewing it slowly and happily. She smiled again as she swallowed.
Ben grinned. Yep, you could say Alice was his latest passion. The dark haired cheerleader who shared his English class had caught his attention at the beginning of the year. And she had taken a liking to him, which pleased Ben to no end.
She sat down next to him on the hallway bench, leaning forward, so Ben couldn't help but notice her ample cleavage. It was mesmerizing, and he wondered somewhere in the recesses of his mind if it had been on purpose.
Probably.
Hell, if he had those things, he be flaunting it. Although it would also be worrying, come to think of it… And it was over for the young teen. The hallway was gone, the school was gone, and his own reason was gone, never to return to his hormone ridden self.
"I think I love you, Alice." He said slowly.
Alice smiled. "C'mere, I've gotta show you something. It's soo neat!" She grabbed his hand, dragging him from the bench as the two took off down the hallway. Well that went well… not, Ben thought.
As the reached the end of the hallway, Alice veered to the bathrooms and then the girl's bathroom. Soon enough, they were inside. Ben looked around. It honestly looked just like the boy's side, almost; it even had the same tiled floor and cream walls, the bland, publicly owned and paid for feel.
And lucky for them, they were alone.
Alice glanced at him before landing a quick kiss to his cheek. And this seemed much better than Ben was expecting. A hell of a lot better. So he leaned forward as well, pressing his lips against her's. And yeah, it was a bad idea, but at the same time, a really good one.
XXXXX
Not much later Mrs. Upchurch had walked into the girl's bathroom. And much to her shock, there they were, Ben Braeden and Alice Mason, kissing passionately and sitting against the wall. And Alice was topless.
"What in the world?!" She exclaimed.
Alice let out a high-pitched shriek and Ben's mouth remained wide open from the kiss as his partner extracted herself, gathering her dignity. The pair quickly stood, looking very much like a pair of deer in the headlights. Ben realized it really was a bad idea, and he honestly had no idea what to do about it.
From there, Alice had been made to dress and the two had been marched to the principal's office. Alice in tears, and Ben with his head to the ground in shame. Because yeah, it felt like Kindergarten again, only one-step better from being disciplined by a parent, since they couldn't whack your ass for it.
Good going, Ben.
Mr. Martin had been furious, lectured them, and their parents were called. Alice's parents came to get her, and they were furious, Ben just hoped his wouldn't be. But he knew different. He was in for it.
So the secretary, Ms. Fritz called his Mom and Ben sat on the wooden chair in the principal's office dreading her reaction.
XXXXX
Lisa Braeden stood at the Huston airport of the counter of the gate for her plane when her phone rang. She quickly pulled it from her purse, checking the caller ID. Ben's school.
She picked up, resting the phone between her shoulder and ear. "Hello?"
"Yes, Mrs. Braeden?" A distinctly nasally, female voice crackled through the phone microphone.
"This is she." Lisa stacked handed her ticket to the flight attendant to check in for her gate, leaning into her phone.
The woman on the other end grunted. "Ma'am, your son, Ben, is in Mr. Martin's office right now. Could you come to the school to meet?"
Lisa frowned, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Meet? What did he do?"
The man handed her the ticket, giving her a strained smile. She grabbed her bags, moving away from the station to stop. Airports had this urgent sense about them. Go, go, and wait. The pace was fast, the people were 'pissy' at best, but then the waiting would last.
But the pressure to not be a hazard or nuisance was always there. So you moved.
"Ben was found in the girl's bathroom, Mrs. Braeden, with a girl. We're not aware of the details just yet, but Miss Mason wasn't wearing a top."
Lisa's hand flew to her mouth, eyebrows raised and eyes checking to see if anyone else heard this. This was so unlike Ben, but she should have seen it. At thirteen he was asking questions, he was taking glances. And his Dad… Dean, well, Lisa would have smiled had her son not been in trouble.
She shook her head slowly. "I-I'm sorry, I can't. I'm actually in Huston for a convention for my work. But, I assure you, Ben wasn't brought up that way."
"Of course." The woman on the other end replied flippantly. Lisa mentally kicked herself; any mediocre parent would say that to excuse their child. "Who has Ben been staying with?"
"Oh, one of his friends. I know his Mother."
"Mm." The woman voiced. "Well, would you like her to pick your son up and we talk to you at another time?"
Lisa sighed. "Oh no, I'm boarding my plane soon. I was planning to be back—"
The woman sighed again. She was probably rolling her eyes, wanting to get back to her solitaire or whatever she spent her mindless hours doing. "Yes, well we need someone now. The issue needs to be addressed."
Lisa sighed in frustration. "It can't wait? I'll be there by the end of school." She pushed her ticket back into her purse, adjusting the strap.
"I'm sure that'll be fine, Mrs. Braeden. Ben will be in the office until you pick him up."
Lisa nodded. "Okay, thank you very much." She listened to the line cut short and watched her phone.
Oh Ben.
A moment later a man's voice erupted from the speakers.
"Ladies and Gentleman, all flights departing from Huston are being held due to weather conditions." The man who had validated her ticket spoke. "We apologize for the inconvenience and ask you come to the main desk to seek new flight routes. Again: all departures are being held or cancelled for the afternoon. Thank you."
Lisa whirled around. "Excuse me, excuse me!"
The man turned his attention to her.
"That's my flight. I need to get to Indiana… my son is, well—"
The attendant nodded. "Yes, ma'am, I understand. But our airport is holding all airways for the weather."
"Weather?" Lisa frowned.
The man pointed in his slightly strained and pointy manner out the window, to the dark clouds and threatening lightening.
She nodded weakly, letting her bag drop as she leaned against the counter. And the line of angry airport goers began to build behind her grumbles and whines ensuing.
Lisa cleared her throat. "When will flights continue?"
The attendant reluctantly turned from his next complaining customer back to her, his annoyance plain. "They haven't told us. I assume we won't be back for a while; storm doesn't look like it's done. But until then, we'll all have to buckle down. Rest some, read, but no planes are leaving the airport."
The worker turned briskly to a man who embodied the American tourist. Floral shirt, khakis, and all.
Lisa picked up her bags, walking over to slump in a vinyl airport chair. There was no rest for the weary, or certainly not comfortable rest. She shifted on the hard seat, pulling out her phone for the hours ahead.
She dialed Dean's number, quickly pulling the phone up to her ear as she watched a small family pass with their luggage, hoping he would pick up.
"Hello?" Dean's voice sounded from the speaker. "Lisa?"
"Dean, hi." Lisa smiled.
"How're you? He asked in worry. Lisa smiled again, because Dean would ask that first.
"I'm alright. But I do have a favor, if you could—"
"Absolutely." He replied. "What's up?"
"Well, it's Ben." She began.
She could hear Dean pause. "What happened?"
"He got in trouble at school, something about a girl. They didn't tell me. Honestly, I'm worried, Dean. But all the flights are cancelled right now. Weather. Could you pick him up and take him home for tonight? I won't make it."
Dean nodded. "Of course. Yeah, will do."
Lisa smiled again. "Thank you. Truly."
"No problem." Dean replied with a small smirk. Damn kid…
XXXXX
"Ben?"
Ben looked up from his wooden seat in Mr. Martin's office. Ms. Fritz held the door open, leaning in, with her tight turtle neck looking like it was choking her, her features red as ever.
Mr. Martin looked up from his computer. "Oh, Ms. Fritz. Any news…?"
She nodded. "Actually, yes. His Mom will be coming near the end of school to pick him up, like usual. She's in Texas."
Mr. Martin raised his eyebrows, glancing at Ben. Ben shrugged. What was a kid to say? His Mom had work and he had school. Her work meant conventions, soothing music, and other things. His school meant girls, detention, and problems in general.
Ben really hated school. Funny how times like these really made you realize that.
"Okay." Mr. Martin turned to Ben, stomach squeezed against the edge of his desk. "You can go get your backpack—"
Ben's eyes lit up. Mr. Martin noticed, raising his hand. "With Ms. Fritz escorting you. Then you'll come back to work on your homework. Sound good?"
Ben mentally groaned. No, nothing was good about this situation. No one sat down with Socrates, handed him the hemlock, and asked if it sounded good.
Stupid question, but Ben nodded. Because yeah, adults seem to like that.
So Ben followed a slightly frustrated Ms. Fritz. She desperately hated leaving the office, her small space of ultimate power as secretary. Ben wasn't sure what she actually did, other than talk constantly in her high-pitched, nasally voice, but she got paid, so clearly something of worth was shoved in that small brain of hers.
Some of the kids around school called her small face. For someone a six foot-Amazonian-type woman, she had a little head. Like, super little. Kids also called her Charlie Brown's teacher, because yeah, her voice was like that.
Come to think of it, she probably had more nicknames than any of the staff. But she didn't seem to care, or know about it. Ben wasn't sure there was a difference.
They marched down the hall, past the rows of metal lockers and Ben looked longingly at his best friend, Zach, and his peers. It was even more of a validation of his sentence. He was done for, really. He couldn't even be with his friends, the lowest minds in the intelligence hierarchy.
Damn if he wasn't sounding like Sam. Yup, the threat of death could change a person.
But Ben still held that eighth grade sucked, and God, Ben really just hated school.
With his backpack in hand, he returned to the office, slumping back in his chair. It was his, really, with it's wood. He'd probably sat, un-sat, and re-sat in it more than most. Ben kicked at the carpet.
Mr. Martin looked up. "Get to work, I'm sure you have plenty of homework." He returned to his computer, shuffling papers around.
Regular Renaissance man, that Mr. Martin. Ben snorted.
"Problem?" His principal watched Ben with beady eyes.
Ben shrugged. "It's just busy work. Doesn't help anything. And for real, Mr. Martin? You think I can do it in here?"
Something inside Ben knew it was a bad idea. Something screamed, 'don't do it, Ben!' It was reasonable to think it was bad, that there'd be consequences, that Mr. Martin wouldn't like it. But to Hell with reason, who needed it anyway?
Mr. Martin leaned forward. "It is important for your education. But Ben, you are in considerable trouble already, I would suggest you don't push it."
Ben rolled his eyes and leaned further into the wall behind his wooden seat. No homework was being done. And no fucks were being given. Bad move.
Mr. Martin sat back as well, short arms swiftly removing a notebook of loose paper. Grabbing a pen, he scribbled a note, tearing it off and briskly whipping it upwards towards Ben.
"Alright, Ben, since we clearly don't care about authority, this a note for you. You have detention for the next two weeks, everyday after school. For the bathroom incident and your disrespectful manner just now. You're parents will also know."
Ben's eyebrows flew upwards, all sense of self-righteousness gone. Gone with the wind. Not his, but someone's for sure. "T-two weeks, but Mr. Martin—"
"Every action has a consequence, Ben." His principal replied, eyes condescending.
Ben glared at the floor. Mr. Martin was a dickwad. His Mom was going to kill him. No, actually, she was going to bury him alive and dance on his grave. Shit.
Ben quickly began pulling out his Civil War history texts, notebooks, and broken pencils. They all came out in a heap of paper and scribbles. He really needed to clean it out, never know what treasures could be hiding. Then the phone rang and Ms. Fritz answered.
Ben was listening, intently.
XXXXX
"Hello?" The same nasally voice came through.
"Yes, hello. This is Lisa Braden, Ben Braden's Mom." Lisa began, glancing out into the storm and at the cancellations in neon orange on the boards.
"Yes, Ma'am?"
"I was calling to let you know, I won't be able to make it today. All the flights out of Huston are cancelled because of the weather. I don't know when I'll be back. But, I'm having Dean Winchester pick him up."
"Is Mr. Winchester any relation?"
Lisa sighed. "No. I know it's not ideal, but I completely trust him. He'll talk with you."
"Mm." The woman sounded skeptical, even disdainful and Lisa realized how very much she wanted to yell at the secretary. "Well, that sounds like a plan. Thank you for calling."
"Of course." Lisa replied. And the line went dead. Of course, she reiterated, glad we had this talk. Honestly, it was like pulling teeth with that woman.
Lisa shook his head, leaning back in her seat. Oh Ben…
XXXXX
Ben stared down at his shoes as he listened to the principal's voice drone on about how Hamilton Heights upheld a certain code of decorum and other crap. He'd stopped listening a while ago, and honestly, it wasn't hurting anything. Maybe even preserving brain cells. Blah, blah, blah… goody-two-shoes, rules.
The whole package, the reason Ben was there. Mostly.
"Taking off Miss Mason's… clothing is not appropriate behavior. And further, disrespect is not tolerated." Mr. Martin said in a low voice.
Ben dropped his head, still abashed at having a half naked Alice and himself marched to the principal's office. He just been trying to cop a feel of her breasts, he wasn't going to have sex with her! But even that was the end of the world, apparently.
Figured.
Ben let out a breath of surprise as Dean cuffed him upside the head. He looked up quickly, rubbing his head. It hadn't really hurt that bad, but the message was clear: pay attention.
Dean looked disapprovingly down at Ben. Angry even, but an anger being held in until later. Yeah, so he could give Ben a tongue lashing of epic proportions, on top of the ass whipping. Yeah, don't piss off Dean Winchester, asses will pay.
Just great.
"So," Mr. Martin continued, fixing Ben with a reproving look. "Ben has been given two weeks worth of detention, and hour each day after his last class. He has also been suspended for tomorrow to think about his actions."
Dean nodded, giving Ben a final look, before turning to the principal. "It won't happen again. Mr. Martin. I'll make sure. Ben and I'll have a talk today."
Mr. Martin nodded. "I'm glad." He walked around his desk to shake Dean's hand. "Ben's a good kid, it's good to see parents who care about their children."
Dean nodded, thanking him. He gave Ben a slight nudge, looking stern as ever.
Ben glanced at his principal. "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have disobeyed school rules, it won't happen again."
Mr. Martin smiled. "Alright then, see that it doesn't." He ushered them to the door.
Dean dropped a heavy hand on the back of Ben's neck, guiding him out the door and out of the office in silence.
XXXXX
As the Impala roared down the road towards the Braeden home, Dean glanced at his shotgun rider. Ben slumped against the seat of his Baby, staring blankly out onto the road.
"So, uh," Dean struggled for a moment before clearing his throat. "Tell me about it from the beginning. And I mean everything." He pointed at the young teen.
Ben rolled his eyes. It was the same thing over and over again. Painful and boring. And yeah, it was stupid; he had that figured out already. "This is fucking stupid." Ben mumbled.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Ben replied insolently.
"Yeah, I did. That's why I'm giving you chance a to redeem yourself, because believe me, kid, I'm pretty close to pulling off and smacking your ass and then smacking it again when we get home."
Ben glared ahead sullenly. Dean just shrugged, veering off towards the extra strip of pavement by the side of the road.
Ben gasped. "No wait! I'm sorry. Really, I am. Dean, please don't…"
Dean looked over at the kid and the wide, brown eyes looking pleading at him.
He sighed. "You're damn lucky." He mumbled, pulling back onto the road. Ben let himself relax in his seat, because yeah, he was still pissed. Pissed at Dean, the school, at everyone really. But his ass was intact, so that was a plus.
A big one.
XXXXX
"Well I dunno, she's just great. Alice, you know, pretty hot and her smile is, uh, nice…"
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "At school, kiddo?"
Ben perked up, feet planting solidly in the ground. "So anywhere else is fine?"
"No!" Dean exclaimed. "The birds and the bees? Hell, Ben, you aren't old enough for it yet."
"Oh come on, I already know about—"
Dean shook his head. "Don't care if you know. Knowing and doing are different. And thirteen is not a time to be doing. Ever."
"But you were doing it at my age!" Ben cried.
Dean opened his mouth to retort, then clamping it shut. Well damn. He sighed. "Doesn't mean you can. I said no, your Mom said no. That's final."
"You're such a hypocrite." Ben mumbled, head downcast.
"Excuse me?" Dean crossed his hands over his chest, facing the young teen. Ben glanced up, anger building.
He glanced up, pushing himself forward on the bed. "Well, you want all this, this abistence—"
"Abstinence."
Ben shook his head, waving it away. "Whatever. But you did. Your Dad said no, but you did!"
"Yeah." Dean replied. "I did. My old man laid down the laws, I did what I wanted, and you know what I got for it? A blistered ass. So I'm making it simple: don't do it."
Ben groaned. "I can't believe you."
"You can't believe me?" Dean asked in surprise, clearly frustrated. "Listen, kiddo, this isn't about me. And you need to cool it with the attitude. It's not gonna fly from now on. You did wrong, and it's not happening again. End of story."
And then the reason in Ben's brain shorted out again, or at least that was a fair excuse, because Ben lost it. And it was his final bad move of the day. "Whatever." He replied insolently.
And Dean was at his side as fast as anything. He grabbed Ben's arm, spun him around and landed half a dozen hefty swats to the boy's jean clad backside. And they stung like the Dickens.
"Last chance, buddy boy. I'm not done talking, but if you really want to push me, I'll tan your ass first and talk after. What's it gonna be?" He crossed his arms, standing back from Ben.
Ben collected his breath, trying to ignore the sting in his backside. "The second one."
"Good." Dean nodded. "So, why did you do it with Alice?"
Ben groaned. "Oh man, we weren't having sex, we were just, you know…." He finished lamely.
"Like you weren't thinking about it." Damn kid, Dean thought, just like him at that age. Thinking he knows everything and run by hormones.
"When'd you first do it?" Ben asked slowly.
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Do it?" Color rose in his face. "That's not the point. You on the other hand—"
"Yeah, I get it." Ben sighed.
"Do you? 'Cause I'll keep going. You can't do whatever you want. Touching and kissing leads to sex." Dean cringed, not his ideal father-son talk. "That happens, you could get the girl pregnant. STD's. The lot. You don't want that, trust me."
Ben rolled his eyes. "Dean, I know." He groaned.
Dean nodded, hands going to his pockets in search of something. Then he pulled out a condom and it was over for Ben. The blush previously on his face was probably crimson, he figured. This was terrible. He was never going to have sex if he had to keeping talking to Dean about it.
Probably.
Dean tossed it to him. "Use every time."
Ben nodded his head quickly, shoving it in his pocket. "Okay, I got it." He let an embarrassed smile play across his face.
Dean laughed, the color returning. "Yeah, kiddo. But Ben?" Ben looked into Dean's eyes again. "Think with your upstairs brain, it'll save you some trouble."
Ben blushed, nodding slowly. Dean sure knew how to make it awkward. "Yeah, okay."
Dean nodded. "Good. So, we still gotta talk about punishment."
"Do we have to?" Ben asked.
"Yeah. Your school took it pretty serious and honestly, kiddo, your track record isn't great."
Ben shifted on his bed. "What happened to 'forgive and forget'?"
"Same place 'I won't do it again' went." Dean said knowingly.
"Okay, fine." Ben conceded. "But this system sucks."
Dean smiled, face turning serious. "But talking back to your principal? Being in the girl's bathroom? Your attitude—"
"I didn't have an attitude!" Ben insisted.
"What do you call our talk in the car?" Dean demanded, his hands on his hips.
Ben shrunk back, letting himself sink into the comforter of his bed. "I was just mad, I guess."
"Doesn't make it right, dude." Dean replied. "And it's gonna stop. So, you've got detention and you've been suspended for tomorrow. I only see one more thing left to do."
Ben sighed resignedly. The inevitable was upon him. Too bad it wasn't like saving the world or something cool and less, well, painful.
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Problem?"
"No, sir." Ben replied. "I just, well, I'm just really hoping it's not what I think it is." He glanced up at Dean.
Dean held back a small smile. "Yup, c'mere." He beckoned, pulling out Ben's desk chair and sitting heavily into it.
Ben nodded slowly, rising and shuffling over to Dean's side, watching the hunter. Dean gave the young teen a once over before guiding him over his lap. Ben squirmed to get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as anyone could be lying on someone else's knees, pre-spanking.
Meaning not at all.
"Why are we here Ben?" Dean asked.
Ben turned over his shoulder to see Dean. And come to think of it, Dean looked a heckuva a lot bigger like that. "Because you like hitting kids." Ben grumbled.
He didn't mean it, not really. But still, this sucked.
Dean slowly pulled him up, looking deep into the thirteen year-old's eyes. "No, I don't. Not at all. In fact, I'd rather not do it ever."
"Then why do it, it we both don't like it?" Ben pointed out.
Dean sighed. "Because clearly detention and telling you off is helping."
Okay, maybe, Ben thought to himself, but still…
"And honestly, kiddo," Dean continued. "Name one time I spanked you when you didn't deserve it."
Ben pondered this for a moment, and honestly, well, nope. Nothing came to mind.
"Never."
Dean nodded. "I'd never do it just to hurt you. I'm here to help you learn. What you did today? Not cool."
Ben nodded. "Okay. I am sorry though. For everything." He smiled sheepishly at Dean.
Dean nodded. "Okay. Let's get this over with."
Ben nodded in confirmation, letting himself be guided over Dean's lap a second time. And
this was gonna suck, sure, but Ben knew he deserved it. It was funny though; how so much of what you should happen you didn't want to happen. Like an ass kicking, not high on Ben's top ten list of fun stuff to do. Or any list, really. Maybe a burn list?
Then the first swat hit in a fell swoop, catching Ben on the dead center of his behind. He bit his lip. He knew Dean had a hard hand, but man, the thing was like a freakin' metal paddle or something. And Dean kept swatting, concentrating on raising a burning pain in Ben's ass.
And it sucked, like Ben knew it would.
As Dean continued, Ben began to shift, his leg twitching and involuntarily kicking as the tenderness of his backside grew. Then Dean tipped him forward and a soft moan escaped him. "Did I mention this is messed up?" He whined, scrunching his face in pain.
"Frequently." Dean replied dryly, keeping a smile a bay the best he could and laying down more swats. The kid was so much like him at that age… Dean shook his head.
Soon, Ben was gasping, clenching his fist as Dean laid into him. Then the tears came, the sobbing, the promises, because yeah, whatever to get it to stop. It worked didn't it? And when Ben was sure he couldn't take it anymore, with his ass burning and him choking out promises, Dean stopped.
Not that Ben could tell, because he could have sworn his ass had a pulse, it was throbbing so badly, but still. So Ben lay over Dean's lap, crying quietly as Dean rubbed circles into the kid's back. "It's okay, kiddo."
Then Ben pushed himself up slowly, wiping roughly at the snot from his nose and the tears falling down his face, because only bitches cried from a little spanking.
Except, it wasn't that. It wasn't manly, sure, but maybe he wasn't either, he realized. And not in a bad way, just not a grown up way. He was just thirteen. He glanced at Dean, who quirked a smile at him, and practically dove into Dean's arms.
Because yeah, he wasn't too old for that either. Yet.
Soon Ben pulled away slightly. "Sorry, Dean. I shouldna broken those rules and everything." He said.
Dean smiled. "Forgiven. Just let's not do it again, huh?"
Ben chuckles, rubbing his backside ruefully. "Yeah, I don't think I want to."
Dean grinned as well. "And the, uh, birds and the bees?"
Ben groaned, his face reddening. "I got you loud and clear, seriously." He shook his head at Dean's widening smile. He wasn't sure which was worse, the spanking or the sex talk, because man, uncomfortable much? And Dean was thinking the same thing.
"How about sandwiches?" Ben suggested.
Dean nodded. "Sounds good to me."
Yeah, definitely his kid.
End.
Hope you all liked it! I alluded to this in my other Ben story, so hopefully it met your expectations.