A/N: Against my better judgement, I've decided to update. This actually turned out longer than I wanted it but .:shrugs:. I don't mind. Reviews are definitely appreciated.
Disclaimer: Man, I hate it when people put it into their disclaimers that they own their OC. It makes me a million times more uninterested in their story. But, alas, there are three OCs in this chappie. They have really small roles though. Don't mind them! Everything else I don't own.
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"Gah, Benjamin!" John yelled from the downstairs of their new home, rubbing furiously at his socked foot. The new "family," if that's what you wanted to call it, had recently purchased the high-end, Columbian style home a few weeks earlier after sorting out the messy adoption business. The house was nicely furnished-thanks be to John's insistence they hire an interior designer ("I'm sorry, but you should have seen these curtains she bought one time.") and everything else was coming together nicely. Well, almost everything, a certain young man had the knack of procrastinating and letting his untidiness be known to everyone. "Unpack your stuff now! Don't make me tell you again!"
John examined the box his foot had roughly collided with in his attempt to climb upstairs to bed with Jane. It read in the familiar messy scrawl "GAME STATIONS." You mean there's more than one in here? The man sighed, knowing full well Benjamin would probably never get the cumbersome container up to his room before daybreak. He hoisted the box under one arm with a grunt while picking up his glass of water with his free hand before climbing the stairs to his charge's room.
Ben was standing atop his bed, taping a poster of his favorite indie rock band on the light green roof overhead. John surveyed the rest of the work done to his room. So far there were five posters plastered onto the walls of what used to be a quaint, little bedroom. The young man had gotten around to cluttering his mahogany wooden desk with an array of tools and electronics including a radio that was currently flooding the room with the loud crooning of a supposedly ill singer.
John set down his glass of water on a dresser and turned the radio down, instantly setting the room into welcoming silence-At least to John's ears. Ben turned from his taping only to have the immense poster fall from the roof to the floor in two quick flaps.
"Not again," Ben groaned tiredly, flopping down onto his black and grey floral comforter (don't ask him; he certainly didn't pick it.). "I've already tried to get that poster up their five times. It stuck just fine at the detention's roof."
"That's probably because it was covered in the gum and soda of bored teenagers." John said, finally setting the weighty package on Ben's bed. "Had a nice little run in with this one." John said with a small smile, patting the box.
Ben offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry, didn't notice it was late. I started looking at these pictures and I guess I kind of got lost in them…"
John looked at where Ben's downcast eyes fell and plucked the square shaped, navy photo album from the floor. Ben made an attempt to grab for it but John just sat on the bed, not noticing. He opened the album, disregarding the barrage of protests and grabbing being given so freely by the black-haired boy behind him.
"This your mom?" John asked, turning to the younger man who, after several futile efforts, had finally resigned to sit beside the older man in his examination.
"Yeah, she didn't like me much. I get that a lot from people though -Sorta antisocial. Although, that's one of the reasons I joined the agency in the first place: You don't have to build relationships. You just do the work and get the praise." Ben said casually, toying with the corner of one of his record cases.
"She's pretty," John commented, staring down at the picture of the curly red head with big dark eyes who had a wide grin as she laughed at the camera. "She looks like you."
"Calling me pretty?" Ben asked, turning to look mock-offended at the accuser. In actuality, he was slightly flattered by the remark. While his mom may not have understood or liked him very much, he positively adored her. Ever since he was little he thought she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet, and, in a sense, he still did.
"What if I am…?" John dared, looking up from the album with a sly smile. "Prettyboy?"
Ben smiled before tackling the other man flat on his back onto the bed. The photo album fell to the floor but Ben decided to reach for a pillow to smother the other man with instead. He had just grasped a cushion in his hand before he found himself being pushed off the man beneath him and on his back. Ben yelled in protest as John began tickling him mercilessly. Curse last week when he had thrown the cat clear across the room off of him due to its tickling fur! He knew-he knew John would never let him live that down!
"John-please-please-stop!" Ben gasped through his laughing. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as John continued to wiggle his fingers over every ticklish spot on his body.
Over the past few weeks, John had begun to learn just how much fun Benjamin was to tease and torment. He could always count on getting a sarcastic retort or a loud and flailing reaction. Either were too good to pass up to him.
Ben, sensing the man was enjoying his utter humiliation and misery way too much, made an endeavor to leap off the bed and run out of the room. When the tiny moment came that John began to laugh harder at Ben's boisterous and noisy reaction, the young man mustered up the small amount of strength he had to escape from the bed. He made it halfway off before toppling to the floor and smartly bumping his head on the leg of his desk chair.
"Ah!" Ben gasped, clutching his injured forehead, his face contorted into one of pain.
"What is going on here?" Jane said sharply through clenched teeth, entering Ben's room with a distraught look on her face. Ben and John looked up surprised and Jane's expression turned into one of concern at the sight of Ben grasping his wounded head. She turned her newly accusatory look towards John. "What did I tell you about being too rough with him?"
Everyone in the room, especially Ben, knew that the true victim of being "too rough with him" was Jane but, nobody was about to point that out to the radiantly angry woman standing in the doorway of the small room, hand on hips with an crossly expectant look on her face.
"Whoa, he did that to himself." John said, looking innocent. Sure, he had some involvement in it… "You okay, buddy?" John asked more to relieve his conscious then to give moral support to the young man rubbing tenderly at what was to be a rather large bump.
"Yeah, I think so. Not as bad as last time." Ben said, recounting two weeks ago when Jane had "accidentally" banged his head against the car door. He was out cold for four hours after that. Jane apologized but mumbled something about "enjoying the quiet."
"I'll go get some ice, but once I come back, you're going to bed. I mean, pygmies, it's one am." Jane sighed as an afterthought. She exited the room and Ben and John stared at each other before snorting quietly.
"You're really starting to cramp my style," John said, getting up from the bed to help Ben up.
"Meh, being the stone-cold serious type doesn't get as many ladies as it used to anyway," Ben said with a shrug, picking the game stations box off the foot of his bed and putting it down with a heavy thump. "It's all about the funny, charming guys. So don't get too shocked by all the chicks I bring home, okay?"
"All right, I'll try not to have a heart attack over the neighbor girls you'll be babysitting, don't worry." John said with ruffle to Ben's already disheveled hair. Ben just scowled in response and was about to pick another fight with the man but thought better of it when he saw Jane making her way back up the stairs with a dishrag with a few cubes of ice in it. Upon returning to the room, she placed the pack to Ben's growing bump, ignoring the hands that tried to do it themselves.
"This should make it look okay by morning." Jane muttered. Ah morning, the time when Ben would start his first day at the local high school. He was dreading every hour leading to its coming. As if school hadn't been hard enough, now he would have to start the whole grueling process all over again. John was forcing him to participate in at least one sport, pft, like that was going to happen. The boy was the most uncoordinated person he knew. This second school experience was sure to be loads worse with the addition of a sports embarrassment, Ben was sure of it.
The young man yawned tiredly and Jane let up, instructing Ben to hold the makeshift pack while he slept. Ben reluctantly did as he was told and lied down in his new bed with the rag pressed against his forehead.
John turned out the light on Ben's nightstand and studied the boy in the faint hallway light before exiting the room. He was happy that his style was being cramped by him.
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"Ben, get up." Jane said at 6am as she distractedly passed the slumbering young man's room.
Thirty minutes later, John passed the room as he went to get some coffee and repeated the demand before heading down the stairs.
Both were not used to the slight change in their morning routine and both were ignorant of just how little effect their words had on the snoozing boy. John was casually reading the paper in his usual business attire and Jane was preparing breakfast in her silky night robe.
"I'm off to work," John finally said after finishing his eggs and orange juice. He gave his wife a kiss and grabbed his briefcase off to his new job at an actual engineering company (go figure).
"Oh," Jane said, looking up from her cooking. "Don't forget to take Ben to school."
"Oh yeah," John said, feeling slightly guilty he had forgotten about the young man. "Ben, you ready?!" he yelled from the downstairs. No reply met his ears though.
"I woke him up." The couple said in exasperated unison. The two glanced at each other in confusion and John made his way upstairs. The time was now 7:45 and Ben's school started at 8. With each step up the stairs, John's impatience grew so to find the boy dead to the world lying in bed would appear to be John's breaking point as he clenched his jaw and roughly picked Ben up by his arm and onto the floor. Ben toppled to the floor with a groan and a pained:
"Ooow… Wha' didja to that for?" Ben slurred groggily. John ignored it and grabbed the boy up again by his tricep. "Ah, arm, arm!"
"You were supposed to wake up an hour ago. Didn't you hear Jane and me?" John asked, forcing Ben to look at his stern and irritated expression.
"Uh, no. I'm sorry I don't have bionic ears, I'll have to get a pair if this is what you're going to resort to every morning." Ben said sarcastically, struggling to pull his arm away from John's death hold. John's grasp held firm and he clenched his jaw in frustration again. Don't hurt him, don't hurt him.
"Hurry and get dressed, Benjamin; you've already made both of us late." John said, relinquishing his grip on the scrawny arm. Ben rubbed it tenderly and scowled after the man who exited the room. "Now!" Ben got to work.
Ten minutes later, the young man was dressed in his regular attire of a simple T-Shirt, jeans, and converse. He had brushed his teeth but John was sure he had barely glanced at his hair for the tousled mess on his head looked as messy as ever.
"It's the 'look.'" Ben pointed out after meeting John's gaze as he entered the sleek, black car.
"Whatever." John said with a sigh as he peeled out of the driveway of their residence.
Upon arrival at the drop off of the school, Ben was feeling quite queasy. The drive there had seemed like a race to the death. John had defied more laws than one in his effort to get to the school on time and that left Ben screaming bloody murder frequently.
"Get out of my car, Benjamin; you've broken my ear drums." John said, handing Ben his backpack from the back seat.
"People do that when they're about to die, John!" Ben said, opening the door. He was about to exit when John grabbed him by his shirt. "Geh!" Ben gasped as he was pulled back.
"Hey, here it's 'dad,' all right?" John said, referring to his name.
"Fine, but then it's 'Ben' from now on." Ben said while rubbing his sore neck.
"Here's your lunch money, Benjamin," John said, handing Ben a ten dollar bill. Ben frowned as he took the money. "This isn't a negotiation; it's an order. Get out of my car."
Ben did as he was told and climbed out the car with his backpack and money grasped in one hand. He resisted from flipping the car off as it drove away not only because it was royally immature but also because John would probably catch the gesture with his "hawk eyes."
The bell rang behind Ben and he turned his head to see the students milling in. Wow, John had gotten him here on time. Well, it can only be expected when you drive that crazy.
The young man slung his back pack on his shoulder, steadying himself from the nausea that he was still feeling from his latest car ride before heading for the entrance of the school, praying to God that this school year would go differently from the rest.
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Ben stepped out of his last class for the day with a heavy sigh of relief. He read a clock that was mounted on a brown brick wall to see that it was only 11am-God, it rocked to be a senior.
He had managed to make it out of the school day with only two embarrassing situations. The first time happened in his first period, during which he was introduced to the entire class of forty students by his overly-cheery psychology teacher. Although the situation was embarrassing, Ben played it to his advantage and smooth-talked his way out of it, leaving the class in fits of laughter.
The second time he wasn't quite as fortunate. A girl had approached him after the class with a gaggle of other girls talking in hushed tones a few feet behind her, obviously watching the show from afar. She bit her lip and swept her curly blonde hair behind her shoulder.
"Hi," she said nervously. "I'm Terren. I thought it was really cool what you did in there and I was wondering if you wanted to-"
All of a sudden she was interrupted by Ben emitting a loud cry.
"Ah!" he shouted, clasping his front jean pocket. His thigh suddenly felt like it was on fire! There was something hard in his pocket but Ben was more preoccupied with the girl trying to talk then removing it.
"Fine! If you didn't want to go out with me you should've just said. Pretending to be hurt just because you can't say no is totally childish." She huffed angrily and stomped angrily back to her clique, muttering something about the funny guys always being the most immature.
Ben wanted to yell "Wait!" but the pain in his thigh was radiating an intense amount of heat. He finally extricated the device from his pocket and held it in his shirt due to its burning temperature. It was the key that Jane had given him to the house! Why was it trying to scorch his skin?! Ben also noticed it was starting to blacken his shirt and threw it into the flooded water fountain where it sparked and fizzled to its death.
"Bad key!" Ben reprimanded, removing the object from the water and placing it in his backpack. He was definitely going to have a talk with a certain agent…
So, overall, his school day wasn't all bad. His little performance in psychology had gained him some popularity but his "juvenile stunt" with Terren had quickly taken a big piece of that away… Mostly with the girls. Ben sighed disdainfully at the contemplation. And here he thought since he was three or four year older than everyone here he would get the girls based on his "manly personality." But maybe he was finally acting like a teenager…
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Ben sat on the bench of the school grounds, waiting for some one to pick him up. He had assumed John or Jane knew about the senior rule but now he was thinking differently. They didn't even bother to wake you up. Do you really think they'll bother to get in their cars and pick you up?
Two guys about his "age" walked up from behind him and sat on both sides of him on the wooden bench.
"What're you reading?" the boy on his right asked. Ben glanced at him. He was wearing a red and white striped shirt with a black logo of one of Ben's favorite bands on them. He had shaggy black hair with pink clumps in it and big hazel eyes.
"Uh, nothing… Just some extra reading materials on Napoleon." Ben said, feeling slightly embarrassed when he actually said it.
"Pft, nerd." The boy on his said. Ben looked at the smiling young man to find that he was actually quite handsome. He had a straight white smile, windswept short brown hair, and shining green eyes. He was wearing relatively the same thing Ben was- comfortable and casual apparel with a hint of personality.
"So the fact that you're sitting next to is because…?" Ben asked pointedly.
"Meh, beats me." The guy on his right said offhandedly, shrugging. "Dominic's the one who wanted to talk to you but here he goes calling you a nerd. What's up with that, Dommy?"
"I said I'd beat you the next time you called me that, remember?" the guy known as Dominic said with narrowed eyes. The young man on Ben's right yelped with mock fear and bolted off the bench and down the street. Dominic laughed. "Yeah, that's Harry. He's hyperactive and a big mouth. What do they call you?"
"Oh, Ben… Smith." Ben still wasn't used to saying it.
Dominic made it a point to look disbelieving at the announcement of his last name but Ben acted as if he didn't notice.
"Just move here?" he asked, lounging back into the bench, digging his sneakers into the grass beneath them.
"Yeah, from Red Wing, Minnesota." Ben said, struggling to remember the whole history Jane had told him to memorize.
"That's cool. My cousins live up there. How do you like the school?" Dominic asked.
"It's cool. It's a lot nicer up here than my last one." Ben said truthfully. His last school was in the ghetto of California. Not a pretty place.
"See any girls you might be interested in?"
"If I am, I'm sure I've already blown it with them…" Ben admitted with an air of sadness.
"What? What do you- Wait a second, you're Ben? The guy who started acting like he had a seizure to get away from Terren?!"
"What?" Ben said incredulously, looking at him. "I didn't act like I had a seizure! I just got a… really bad cramp."
"A cramp?" Dominic laughed at the notion. "Heck, I don't care if I was stabbed right then and there. Terren's hot. I would've held it in."
"Easy for you to say…" Ben mumbled as Harry finally came back to reclaim his seat beside Ben.
"Hey, Harry, this is Ben. You know the guy Terren was ragging on in trig." Harry's mouth dropped and he stared at Ben.
"Why would you do that? Terren's hot!" Harry said, pushing Ben lightly. "I mean, you're okay looking but you really shouldn't be so egotistical as to turn down a date with the Terren Samuels."
"I didn't do it because I thought I was better I did it because-"
"He got a bad leg pain," Dominic laughed. This had Harry rolling and Ben found himself blushing heatedly from the ridiculing of the two strangers. A familiar looking pearl blue car pulled up and the window rolled down to reveal Jane talking on her cell phone. She motioned Ben to get in while continuing to talk on the phone.
"Is that your mom?!" Harry said, getting up from the floor and staring glassy-eyes at the gorgeous woman in the driver's seat.
"Now she is hot." Dominic agreed.
"Thaaanks…" Ben said uncomfortably as he placed his book in his bag. "It was nice talking to you."
"Anytime, dude. We'll see you tomorrow. Maybe Dominic here could show you a thing or two about girls. The ladies are all over him." Harry said, laying a hand on his taller friend's shoulder. Dominic rolled his eyes.
"Or we can just catch up on our reading," Dominic said, taking from his pocket the same paperback that Ben was reading. Ben laughed.
"Nerd." He said with a teasing grin. "Sure, I'll catch you to tomorrow."
Harry and Dominic waved to Ben more to keep gazing at the beautiful woman beside him then to exchange pleasantries.
"He was definitely adopted." Harry said bluntly as the duo walked home.
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A/N: One review, please. It's all I'm asking. .