A/N: Next one!

After the sun had dipped low into the sky and bursts of purple and orange began to layer about the atmosphere, Benny finally signaled for the game to end by whistling with his fingers. Reluctantly, all the teenagers wearily packed up their belongings and began their trek across the Sandlot, their sneakers kicking up dirt and grass behind them.

Smalls stood up from his seat on the bench and stretched his limbs, chucking his left over Coke bottle in the trashcan beside him. He let out a yawn and a satisfied smile as a soft breeze brushed along his arms, causing the blond hairs there to stand on end. Dusting the back of his shorts off, Smalls stepped out into the field and began his route back home.

Not a single one of his friends remained on the field now, most of them already trudging along the streets to get to their respected houses. The Sandlot was bathed in an eerie light, not entirely dark, but not too luminous either, and Smalls had the sense to hurry along. Not even halfway across the Sandlot, Smalls spotted a lone figure leaning against the chain link fence in the distance. The blond's heart rate sped up as his fingers twitched nervously at his sides.

Remain cool, remain cool.

Benny had his arms crossed over his chest, the teen's back leaning against the fence as his jean-clad legs crossed one over the other. Smalls always like the way Benny looked in jeans, since the Latino usually wore straight-legged ones, which were almost always folded at the ends. The material always seemed to hug Benny's legs, something Smalls wish he could pull off—alas, Benny was the star of the Sandlot and was one hell of a runner, the kid had been given a gift.

"Hey, thought I'd wait up for you," Benny grinned, drawing away from the chain fence. He had a gritty baseball gripped in one hand and a bat lunged over his shoulder. His baseball jersey, which was untucked and hanging freely in front of him, was littered with dirt and grass stains, and the white wife beater underneath was worse-for-wear. "Sorry about your Coke, I'll buy ya' another one next time."

"Uh, no! It's okay," Smalls appeased, sticking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "It was a hot day."

"No kidding," Benny laughed, swiveling the bat on his shoulder. They both walked along the field, clouds of dust and clay kicking up around their feet, and a comfortable silence passed between them, neither of the teenagers saying a word. The wind was remarkably cooler than it was when the sun had been aloft, and Smalls smiled as a gust of wind caressed his face. He began to wonder if they'd continue the trek to their homes in the bubble of companionable silence they had erected, and he found that he really didn't mind it much. They had the whole summer to laugh and joke around.

They both crossed the street after waiting for a passing car to drive by, and once they set foot on the sidewalk, they mingled down the pavement side by side.

"We should all head downtown this summer, maybe head down to La Placita," Benny suddenly chimed, casting a glance at Smalls. The blond boy perked his head up, momentarily dazed at the loss of amiable silence, but quickly worked Benny's statement in his mind.

"O-oh, yeah! What's that again?" Smalls piped, fingering the ratty glove in his hands. He smiled at Benny—he tried to ignore the charming smile on the elder's lips.

"The market on Olvera?" Benny supplied, cocking a brow.

"Oh, that place! That'd be pretty cool. Would our parents drive us there?" the blond wondered. Benny snorted through his nose, a small laugh leaving from his mouth, and Smalls realized that he had said something particularly lame. The younger teen's face flushed—he was very grateful that it was fast turning dark.

"Nah, we'd just take the bus," Benny chided, lightly smacking the rim of Smalls' cap. Smalls didn't think it was possible for his face to turn any darker, but it had.

"B-but, we could get lost, or miss our stop, or…something," Smalls supplied, nervously picking at the loose tendrils of string sticking out his glove. "I can always have my mom drive us there if you- ."

"Seriously, Smalls," Benny laughed, turning his head. Smalls gulped and met the older teen's eyes. The blond realized that Benny looked just as alluring as he did after playing a round of ball. The older teen's face was no longer glistening with sweat, and his hair was not as mussed as it had been, instead framing his face with sporadic, dark ringlets. Benny smirked. "As long as you're with me, you'll be fine. Oh hey, we're here."

Smalls nearly let out a chaste gasp when he found they were already standing outside his house. He could see his mother through the window tinkering away on the stove, and the spicy aroma of flavored meat and other spices seeped from his doorway.

"Smells good, huh," Benny stated, skidding his shoe across the pavement. Smalls nodded along. "Well, see ya' Smalls. Sandlot at one tomorrow, 'kay?"

Smalls watched Benny wave and continue onward, and with a weary sigh, the blond turned and trekked down the concrete pathway leading to his front porch. Unbeknownst to Benny, Smalls halted at his porch step and gazed after the retreating form of his friend, his stomach seemingly doing somersaults as Benny's form continued to grow smaller and smaller.

Sometimes, he hated that feeling.