TouchTasteKiss-5

Hello again! I just wanted to inform you to the fact that this chapter is based off a song.

Gwen was pissed.

No, that was an understatement.

She was pissed like a full bladder.

All she wanted was a nice day out with her cousin and her boyfriend.

But it seemed even that was an impossibility.

Ben had been all silent and distant the entire time. As if he was mulling something over endlessly in his head. He was hesitant at seemingly everything, as if he was a clumsy child in a china shop. She didn't know why, but the absence of her cousins moxie agitated the hell out if her.

And then there was Kevin. He had been a tad edgy lately. And not in the good let's-fuck-in-the-kitchen kind of edgy, he was crackhead grade edgy.

Everyone was all distant and silent and Gwen's vision of her perfect little world was falling apart at her feet.

Meanwhile, glances were being stolen left and right.

Stolen.

What a funny word.

The only thing that had been stolen in the past month was Ben's innocence. It haunted him, regardless of the fact that he craved it so.

He was used.

He thought about it every night and day. He was addicted, and just couldn't get enough.

And the bad thing about it was, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Kevin drummed his fingers on the desk. Random automotive parts decorated the surface, along with blueprints of random widgets and add-ons for his beloved Camaro. Lately, he suffered from what he dubbed as 'mechanic's block' or more commonly known as 'WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I BUILD ANYTHING?'

He pushed away from his desk and walked to the kitchen. He toyed with the switch a few times knowing full well it didn't work.

Shitty wiring.

Kevin's fingers strafed along the wood of the cabinets, grinning through the darkness as he found the cabinet full of alcohol.

He quickly downed the bottle, belching loudly. The aftertaste hinted that it was the bottle of cheap Cognac he'd swiped from the Superbowl party. Oddly enough, the taste reminded him of Ben. Its undertones reminded him of the rich taste of his skin. Or that pained-pleasure look he had in his eye when the man was inside of him.

He took a minute to think about going over to the Tennyson house and giving the green eyed boy a good workout.

That sounded good.

It was most likely that the pills and the alcohol were working themselves through his bloodstream, or it could be the humidity. God it was hot.

Everything was hot.

This room.

The wood floor.

His body.

God his body was on fire, hot enough to set the streets ablaze. His hips swung to and fro, while his hands cascaded down his bare torso. Pink lips were parted seductively, and come hither eyes beckoned for more.

The song changed to "Stupid Ho" by Nicki Minaj.

Oh the irony. Ben felt like a stupid ho'. Hell, he was a stupid ho'. He was Kevin's stupid ho', and right about now, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Almost ceremoniously, the door swung open, a rather disheveled Kevin following after.

The song changed again.

-"Boy I think about it every night, and day,"-

Eyes met, and a wave of passion followed.

"I'm addicted wanna jump inside your love."

Their bodies seemingly magnetized, hands sloped up shirts, and down into green underwear. Lips met, and they were granted a reprieve of the heated sweetness they both had the pleasure of instigating.

"I wouldn't wanna have it any other way."

They were grinding on one another, as if the closeness of their bodies were their lifeline, their anchor to this earth.

"I'm addicted and I just can't get enough,"

"I just can't get enough."

The bell for third period rang, and Ben began to pack up his books for gym. He managed to make it to the locker room first, and changed into his blue and white basketball shorts and faded "Led Zeppelin" tee with ease.

Coach Gibson crept from his office fifteen minutes later and made them do warm-ups. After that, they were tossed a few balls and left to fend for themselves.

The American public school system at its best.

The squalor on the court was high as the stereotypical 'jocks' hailed up and down the court rudely, having Ben stop his shot so they could miss another basket. Ben jumped for the free throw, but the gaggle of boys came from the opposite side, and accidentally shoulder checked Ben, who slid into the bleachers, and roughly banged his shoulder.

He howled in pain, and not a second later, Coach Gibson, ran from his office, ((which rumor has it, is the shower room, and he's back there with Bellwood's fullback Clayton Simmons doing the nasty.)) with a pass, demanding that he go see Nurse Lilah Harrow immediately.

When he got there, Lilah did some examining, and concluded that it was sprained, then sauntered over to her old file cabinet that had been there since the school was built in 1959, pulled out Ben's folder, wrote him a classroom excuse, and called his guardian.

Ben thought the school policy "get hurt get out" was stupid as hell, but if it let him sleep, he didn't care. His eyes skittered to a pink sheet with phone numbers written on it.

The first was the home number. His parents were probably off doing some hippie shit, and weren't around to take the call.

The second he recognized as Max's, but he was all the way across the galaxy in Alternia for a plumber reunion.

And the third-

His stomach did somersaults.

Kevin's.

Nurse Harrow gave him some ice and promptly kick him the fuck out of her clinic. He went to the front of the building, to find Kevin lounging in his car with his pants unbuttoned.

"Kevin I'm not in the mood, my arm hurts and I have a headache." He lied, his head was full Kevin. That body. Holy fuck that body.

"Well, prep your hole, cuz you're stating the weekend at my place."

Ben turned to look at the male like he'd just done crack of the hood of his car. "The hell you say."

"Parents called and told me you needed to get out the house, so I kinda..." he grinned mischievously.

Ben sighed. "Did you at least get my pills?" He slumped back in the chair."

"All I got were your pills, your toothbrush, and some lotion you had hidden under your bed."

"But what-" An already flustered Ben was cut off by a hot tongue making contact with his jaw.

"Because you won't be wearing much clothes."

That feeling was back, and wasn't sure if he wanted to slap the living shit out of Kevin, or fuck the living shit out if Kevin.

Stupid Fucking Godamn Hormones.

Sorry, but this could be a filler chapter, I needed something to Bridge this and the next few chapters together. In case you didnt know, the song was "Just cant get Enough" by the Black Eyed Peas. There's only a few chapters left, and from here, Things are about to take a turn for the worst.