Benji rests the tips of his fingers against his lips, shocking himself on impact. It's as if they're glued into that position as he strolls down the sidewalk, the breeze ruffling his hair as the memory of Victor's face comes flooding back to him, the desire and affection blooming in his chest all at once as he remembers the heat of Victor's mouth, the weight of his body bearing down on him, the sensation of hard glass and metal holding him upright, for without it, he knows he would have collapsed, breathless.
He smiles a crooked smile, the world around him dropping away. Somehow, his legs carry him across campus, as if programmed by a GPS that needs no conscious input from his brain, and he arrives outside the familiar red brick building.
But the whole time, all he can do is relive that kiss, heart bursting in his chest like a water balloon exploding against the pavement and leaving a dark stain behind until the sun pulls it back up. There was something about it that caught him off guard, but the momentary vigor it imparted in him almost frightens him. He can feel the capillaries in his cheeks swell even as he enters the warmth of his dorm; it must be from that.
With a sigh, Benji shuts the door behind him, humming as he enters. He pauses when he sees Andrew lying on the bed on his phone.
"Hey, what's up?" Benji says, as he kicks his boots off.
"Oh, hey, man. Last night was fun. We should play Mafia more often, maybe it'll teach Fee how to be a better liar," Andrew says, sitting up and flashing a mischievous grin. "I'm guessing you slept over?"
With a chuckle, Benji plays with his hair. "Yeah, his mom is like… surprisingly cool about everything so she let me stay over and then Vic gave me his clothes, which is why I look like literally every straight boy at this school."
"Did you and Vic… you know…?"
"S-shut up," Benji stammers. "Why don't you just mind your business, man. You're literally the nosiest person I know."
"Relax, I'm just playin'. But you look… really happy, so I'm guessing you definitely did," Andrew teases.
Grabbing one of the pillows from his bed, Benji chucks it across the room, smacking Andrew directly in the face.
"Go to hell!"
"Fine, sorry," Andrew concedes, gently tossing the pillow back onto Benji's bed. "I deserved that."
Rolling his eyes, Benji unzips his jacket and drapes it over the chair at his desk.
"Anyway…" Benji says, falling backward onto his bed and staring up at the crinkled ceiling. "What are you up to today?"
"I was actually gonna go to practice for a bit and then meet up with Fee later for a 'sleepover' of our own," Andrew says, making air quotes and wiggling his eyebrows, before he unplugs his phone from the charger and slips it into his pocket.
"Gross," Benji says, wrinkling his nose. "Well, have fun with that. I'll probably head over to the library to get some essays done in a bit, not that you care."
"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Lake and Mia were looking for you. They said they had something important to talk about."
"Did they give like… a hint of what it was about?"
"They said it was top secret."
Benji glares at him.
"Okay, fine," Andrew concedes, "I didn't ask. Mia said she texted you but you didn't answer."
"Oh… hm," Benji says, looking down at his phone and at the notifications in the group chat. "I guess I'll deal with this," he mutters, tapping the message and opening a long text message; his eyes go wide. "Later," he says, shutting off his phone's screen and setting the device on his nightstand.
"Well, have fun, my guy."
"Since when do you call me that?"
"I'm trying something new."
"It's not working."
"No, shit… Anyway, I'm gonna go."
"Have fun playing with balls," Benji says with a grin.
"Oh, I will," Andrew says, throwing his jacket over him and heading out the door. "See ya!"
"Bye!"
Benji rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on his arm as he stares out the window for a moment before he grumbles, not feeling particularly motivated to do his work. His mind wanders back to the kiss with Victor, and then further back still to the previous night, to when they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms after a bout of lovemaking. He bites his lip, heart rate suddenly spiking as he imagines once again the intimacy of their naked flesh slipping against each other like unsteady steps across a frozen pond.
There's something about Victor's eyes, the way he peers into Benji as if he'd extracting something buried and hidden deep within him that he's trying to fuck out of him, and each time, it's as if he's worn away another layer of Benji's resolve. It's wearing thin, he realizes as the familiar tingling runs along his body, its destination in the tightening of his trousers. He swallows, glancing down at himself and seeing the ghost of Victor's hand disappearing inside.
Rising from his bed, Benji pads across the room and draws the curtains closed, the jingle of metal on metal putting him further into a trance. The smell of Victor's musk and spicy cologne engulfs him as he returns to bed. He clears his throat as his brain glimmers with static which turns to a haze that has his eyelids drooping, all his nerve endings on fire.
Suddenly, his clothes feel like a cage, and the gentle brushing of his nipples against the interior of his shirt drives him mad. He peels it away, casting it to the floor and rolling onto his stomach, rubbing himself against the mattress, thinking of how good Victor's taut chest would feel pressing him down right now. The thought makes his pants feel even tighter, and so he sloughs those off, too, lying there in only his boxer briefs.
He reaches out to his nightstand, snatching his phone impatiently and bringing it to his face, unlocking it and opening his photo album. Licking his lips, he finds the folder labeled "?" and taps it; in the gallery, are an obscene amount of pictures of the body he'd become so familiar with over the course of the last few months.
Grinning, Benji opens up one of his favorites: the one Victor had sent him from the library before the end of term. Something about how ballsy Victor had been turned Benji on; and it's generally a gorgeous photo of his dick, anyway, the lighting doing wonders for it and making Benji's mouth salivate. His own cock protests and he grinds down against the bed, before giving into his urges and grasping himself through the fabric.
"Mmm… fuck…." he groans, taking his already rigid erection in his fist and stroking himself, smearing precum across its length. "God, Victor, you and your beautiful fucking dick…" he mutters.
He knows he should be able to withstand a few hours apart, but as he rolls onto his back and slips his underwear off, discarding it with the rest of his clothes, he finds that's becoming more difficult with each passing moment. Gasping softly, Benji speeds up the movement of his hand and thrusts into it as he stares at the picture of Victor's dick on his phone.
But it's not satisfying enough; he wants Victor inside him, even if he can't be there with him physically. He lets his own erection flop out of his hand and he drops his phone beside him as he scrambles across the sheets to his nightstand, swiping his hand across his leg before he opens the drawer and pulls out a bottle of lube, his bag of toys, and a condom, setting everything down beside him.
Humming, he rummages around inside until he finds the toy he wants—a blue silicone dildo almost the length of his forearm—and places it on the bed before he returns the bag to its place. He then rips the condom wrapper open with his teeth and rolls it down the dildo as he lies down once more.
"There you go, Victor. You're all dressed up," Benji says, patting the dildo and chuckling to himself.
Benji takes a pillow and shoves it under his lower back as he brings his knees to his chest, then strokes his cock a few more times. He then takes the bottle of lube and cracks it open, dribbling it on his fingers, the coolness shocking his skin; he shivers, reaching between his own legs and sliding one finger inside his hole as the other squeezes his balls. Moaning, he crooks his digit as he slides it in and out a few times before adding another finger and stretching himself.
Head dropping onto the pillow behind him, Benji's mouth falls open in tandem as he presses against his own prostate, before he picks up his phone again and returns his gaze to the screen, where Victor's cock seems to beckon him.
Inserting a third finger with a groan, Benji swipes right to another photo, this one an amazing shot of Victor's torso as he holds his dick in one of his huge, strong hands. Benji's eyebrows furrow together and his face contorts as he curls his fingers inside his hole, imagining Victor sitting between his legs again, leaning over him and overwhelming him with his presence.
Soon, Benji knows he can't take it anymore and so he removes his fingers from his hole and takes his fake blue cock in his hand, slathering it with the sticky, clear liquid and shoving it inside himself all the way to the base in one go, emitting the most wanton moan he could manage as he hits that spot inside himself full-on.
"God, Victor you're huge," Benji groans, pulling it out and thrusting the dildo back inside, toes curling at the sensation that jolts through his entire sweat-slicked body. It feels almost like Victor, but not quite.
Through slits in his eyelids, Benji stares up at the image of Victor as he fucks himself, his hand-held dick filling him up just the way Victor does but without the sensation of Victor over him. Benji can feel his legs getting tired from the way he's lying, but he doesn't care; he thrusts faster, the ghost of Victor pinning him down, whispers of flesh against the backs of his thighs.
He wishes he could dig his nails into Victor's back as he takes him in, wishes he could tug at his hair and bite his ear and kiss him as Victor fucks him almost like he hates him, but not quite. No, even when Victor's choking him and pressing his face into the mattress or the wall, it's never like that.
With a gasp, Benji drops his phone, eyes falling closed as he loses himself in the moment because pictures will never do Victor justice, body spasming with each thrust until he's over the edge, Victor's lips on his, kissing him until he can't breathe or move as the whiteness explodes in the backs of his eyelids and all he sees is Victor, Victor, Victor and he cums, untouched, all over his stomach.
Shuddering for what seems like hours, Benji simply lay there like a corpse, blissed out and completely boneless as he comes down from his high, a wave of exhaustion knocking him down swiftly, along with the stickiness that seems to invade every crevice and orifice. He feels disgusting, but he doesn't want to move, even though he knows he should.
"Hey, Victor, we should probably—" Benji says, head lolling to the side as he opens his eyes before he stops himself. "Oh. Right."
Glancing down at his hands, Benji exhales, before he slowly rises to clean up after himself. He doesn't know what compelled him to do any of this, but the emptiness panging in the cavity of his chest where his heart continues to blossom against his will feels out of place now. The lack of a warm presence beside him, the silence instead of a pulse under his ear, no embrace to bury himself into and find solace in… it's too much for him to handle.
He ends up curled up on the floor in the shower, arms wrapped around his legs, simply letting the water cascade over him before swirling down the drain as he watches. Swallowing the lump in his throat with a frown, he brushes his hair out of his face before resting his cheek against his knee. In the slate of his mind, he sees Victor lying beside him in his bed, giving him that soft, gentle smile as he presses their lips together like little wisps of air. Something in his chest clenches and a hand cups his face for a split second; it must be the water.
Benji rises and shuts off the water before stepping out and wrapping himself in a towel. He shuffles out of the bathroom to his bed, sitting down on the edge and picking up his phone. Despite the thunderous palpitating radiating in his ears, he sends two messages.
—
Victor sits in front of the computer in his dorm, leg tapping incessantly. He waves his pen around between his fingers and stares at the space between the words on the PDF of his physics textbook. In that very space, it's as if God is playing a cruel joke on him, the image of Benji's serene sleeping visage bombarding him.
He can't stop thinking about last night.
It's as if something within him had activated, bright and glowing and protective all at once as he recalls the way Benji's fingers curled into his hands and his forehead relaxed as he drifted off to sleep in Victor's arms. He wants more of it, the pull of Benji to him on that invisible string wrapping around him and binding his limbs to his side. Holding it inside, keeping the words tucked away in the trove of his brain, had been easier before; but now the box rattles dangerously, and Victor knows it will burst at any moment.
His thoughts drift back to before, the reins of memory snatched from his hands as he replays how Benji kissed him, clutching at him while Victor was still inside him, engulfing and intoxicating him all at once. Swallowing thickly, Victor shakes his head to clear it, but no amount of willpower will erase it from his brain; he doesn't really want to, anyway.
Sighing as the wildfire slowly engulfs him, Victor slides his hand into his sweatpants, hissing as his cool fingers make contact with the hot flesh of his erection. Even though he's gotten over his Catholic guilt for the most part and theoretically he shouldn't be ashamed of himself, his hand feels foreign on him somehow, like an ill-fitting pair of boxer briefs. And in the times when he wasn't having sex with Benji, he would always be too tired and overcome with tension to take care of himself.
Groaning softly and letting his head fall back, Victor's eyelids drift shut. Even though it feels good, he'll never be able to beat the sensation of being inside Benji, and he doesn't know if he prefers when Benji draws him into his throat or when he lets him sheathe his cock inside Benji's hole all the way to the hilt. As he thinks about the way Benji looks at him coyly through his eyelashes when he slides into him, the way he clings to him and scratches at his back when he urges him to fuck him harder, faster, Victor cums all over his own hand before he can catch himself, moaning Benji's name and not caring who hears it.
In that moment, when the tears leak down his cheeks and traverse his neck, marking the collar of his shirt as their final destination, he realizes it's him. It's always been him, ever since Victor laid eyes on the photo of Benji on his Grindr profile, it was as if his subconscious knew right away. But it had taken his conscious brain too long to catch up.
Still shaking a bit, Victor removes his hand from his pants, wrinkling his nose at the sensation of cum all over his palm. He sighs, crossing the hall to the bathroom and washing his hands.
For a long time, he stares at his own flushed, tear-stained reflection in the mirror, nostrils flaring as droplets rain from the tips of his fingers. He leans against the edge of the sink, shifting the weight of his body forward as his shoulders meet his ears. His gaze flits away to his hands, the deep bronze contrasting against the porcelain white, before he stands up straight again and passes his arm over his eyes; he can't even look at himself right now.
After he cleans himself up, he collects his laptop and books into his backpack and slides his arms through the sleeves of his jacket before he slings his bag over his shoulder. He makes his way through the chilly air to the library, mind still aflame and fuzzy as he makes his best effort to suppress the thoughts of Benji that drift in and out of his mind, taunting him as he glances down at the front of his pants every so often and thanks God that they're loose enough to hide the evidence of his mind pushing him further to the brink.
He enters the library and runs up the stairs to the last floor, using the physical exertion as a welcome distraction from the sea storming within his belly as he climbs. Perhaps being out of his room and with his friends will provide a sanctuary from his thoughts.
Mia, Lake, and Fee greet him as he unloads his things and opens his computer before getting straight to work once more. For a short time, his mind is clear, focused, as he reads and scribbles noted furiously on his notebook.
But soon, the images start flooding back. And he finds his brain wandering and starts tapping his fingers against the table in a chaotic rhythm. His phone vibrates next to him, but it doesn't register. Across from him, where Lake and Mia sit, two more vibrations erupt into the space.
Lake looks up from her book, picking up her phone and gasping quietly as she types something and nudges Mia with her elbow before motioning to her phone, pupils flirting to Victor and then away again.
"Hey, can you stop that?" Lake snaps at Victor, reaching out to grab his hand and halt his fidgeting. "You're being extra distracting today, and that's saying something."
"Yeah, you've been looking all… frazzled ever since you came in here," Mia says, eyebrows drawn together in concern.
By now, Fee has also snapped out of their trance beside Victor, and cranes their head toward Lake.
"Uh… You should probably let him stim, Lake. He has ADHD," Fee says, before turning to Victor. "You okay, buddy? What's up? There's still time before midterms, you know. No need to stress."
With a loud sigh, Victor drops his pen on the table and takes his glasses off, then presses his hands into his face. Glancing around the half-full room, he leans across the table, and the trio lean in, too.
"It's about Benji," Victor says quietly.
"Tell us something we don't know," Lake snaps.
"I appreciate your perception," Victor says, voice laced with sarcasm. "As I was saying, I've been thinking about this a lot and… IthinkIwantBenjitobemyboyfriend."
"What's that?" Fee asks, holding their hand up to their ear. "Didn't catch any of that, slow down."
"I want Benji to be my boyfriend," Victor whispers almost inaudibly.
"I swear to God if you don't speak up I'm gonna end you," Lake snaps, grabbing Victor by the front of his sweatshirt.
"Fine! I said, I think I want him to be my boyfriend. I'm ready," he says, enunciating each word, shoulders slumping from the Herculean effort of the admission. "Even though I know he said he doesn't want to be tied down, I just… I can't not at least try, you know? It's gonna eat me alive."
"Wait, you're telling me you haven't been boyfriends this whole time?" Fee asks, incredulous.
"Um, no?" Victor says slowly, face reddening as he raises an eyebrow. "We've literally just been hooking up. Where have you been?"
Mia and Lake share a look, and Mia covers his hand with her mouth as she clears her throat.
"Wow… um, that's really big! I'm happy for you," Mia says with a tight smile. "But, uh… I don't know where you're getting that 'he doesn't want to be tied down' crap from, because he absolutely does want to be tied down, both physically and metaphorically. He told me. Well, not in those words, of course. But trust me," she says, chuckling.
"Yeah, you two might as well just be a couple as it stands. You're already all over each other constantly so it's an obvious next step," Lake says as-a-matter-of-fairly, fixing her hair and flashing a peace sign before she takes a selfie.
"Oh," Victor says.
"It's about time one of you bozos made a move," Lake says, clicking her tongue as she gives him a pointed look over the top of her phone.
"All of us, except Fee, apparently, have been waiting for y'all to finally get together. So do it!" Mia almost shouts.
"Thanks, y'all. Maybe I should do something for Valentine's Day, I've had a few ideas sorta bouncing around my head and I wanted to see if maybe I could plan a date or something," Victor says, picking up his own phone from the table and flipping it over.
"I was thinking—" he stops as he looks down at the screen, where a "wyd?" from Chase bores into his gaze. "I um—shit, hold on. I need to take this."
"What's wrong?" Fee asks, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Well… you know how I was hooking up with Chase and Kayden like, a while back?"
"You mean the guys from your hoetation you spoke about fucking like… three times max before you completely forgot about them and then everything became Benji 24/7? Vaguely," Lake says.
"Are you still seeing them?" Mia asks.
"Uhh… let me put it this way. We took an extended accidental hiatus, and now Chase wants to hook up," Victor says, scratching the back of his head.
"Well, for starters, you need to end things with the both of them if you're serious about pursuing things with Benji for real this time," Mia warns.
"I know, I know. Actually…" Victor says, opening the message and composing a reply. "I wanna do this properly, so I'll just invite them each out to have coffee and break things off."
"You don't need to do all that, you can just text them," Lake says, making a face.
"Yeah, I know, but I just feel bad doing that," Victor says with a shrug. He sends a message with "Are you free for coffee at the lib in like an hour?" to Chase.
"I think that's actually really sweet," Mia says.
"It's always better to just talk it out, because then you don't have misunderstandings," Fee says. "Like, how do you even get your tone across through text? What, you just say 'nice knowing ya' and block them? Seems kinda unfair."
"Mhm. I would rather just tell them that they were nice and I had fun and maybe we can be friends," Victor says.
His phone vibrates again, with a "Sure see you then ?" flashing on the screen.
"Okay, well that was quick," Victor says with a nervous giggle as he wipes his hands against his trousers. "Um… god maybe this is a bad idea after all, a text probably would have been better…"
"Hey, relax, man. It'll be fine. You're just having second thoughts," Fee reassures him, pulling Victor into a hug.
"Thanks," Victor says, voice shaky as he claps Fee on the back.
"Yeah, just rip the gay bandaid off and then you and Benji can go ride unicorns into the sunset and all that," Lake says with a dreamy grin, resting her chin in her hands and staring off into the distance.
He studies a bit longer, his thoughts diverted for a moment to the buzzing apprehension between his ears as he watches the seconds count down. Chewing on his nails, he rehearses his lines in his head, rotating them and committing them to memory, until the clock strikes 2 and he descends the stairs, leaving his things behind.
When he arrives in the cafe downstairs, he spots a cute, pale, blond guy waving him over from the sparse queue where customers await their orders wearing a small smile painted on his lips. Victor waves to him with a wavering smile as he orders himself a mocha and goes to wait.
"Hey, long time no see," Chase says as he takes his drink from the counter and stands beside Victor, his voice smooth and cool.
"Yeah, I've been pretty busy," Victor says with a nervous laugh, his voice going higher than he wants it to.
Chase raises an eyebrow at him and gives him a bemused smirk. "I never pegged you for a coffee date hookup guy," he says.
Victor can only chuckle again as he takes his drink and leads them both over to one of the tables. He pulls out one of the chairs and motions for Chase to sit before he takes his own seat across the table. They're sitting right by the entrance, the light from outside casting a pleasant glow on them through the uncovered window, the students hurrying across the sidewalk and laughing with their friends are all oblivious to the roiling inside of Victor's belly.
Victor clears his throat as he reaches across the table, taking Chase's hand in his own.
"So, about that…"
—-
Benji puts on a fresh outfit, one a bit more suited of his own style—a loose white knit sweater that hangs off one shoulder, paired with a cute pair of ripped skinny jeans. He tucks the front of his sweater into his pants and examines himself in the mirror before he pulls on his leather jacket.
Jamming his earbuds into his ears and putting his music on shuffle, Benji hums as "Kyoto" by Phoebe Bridgers floats gently to his eardrums. He suddenly remembers the message he'd gotten from Mia; he opens it up as he exits his building and reads as he walks.
"Hope you're having a nice time canoodling w Vic! Vday❤️ is coming up soon and tbh it would be a perfect chance for you to finally cuff him once and for all. You guys are like an old married couple it's kinda disgusting but in a really cute and endearing sort of way. Maybe we can do a triple date or something? That might be cute?￢ﾀﾝ
Benji pauses, snorting. "That most certainly would not be cute…" he mutters to himself, before he continues reading.
"Anyways we're gonna be in the library in the usual spot tomorrow so feel free to drop by and we can all hang out maybe talk plans. But istg you and Vic don't admit your feelings for each other and get together Lake and I will literally lock you two in a closet with no food or water until you finally get together! That's a promise? ﾟﾔﾪ? ﾟﾔﾪ"
Rolling his eyes, Benji sighs, closing the chat. He opens his banking application, shimmying his shoulders along to the rhythm of the song as he waits for it to load.
$12.37.
Gasping, Benji stops short in the middle of the sidewalk; a thud as a force collides with his back, and throws him off balance as another student crashes into him.
"Hey watch where you're fucking going!" they yell, flipping him off. He barely notices.
"Shit…" Benji mutters, tugging at his hair. "What did I even buy?"
Scrolling through his transactions, his stomach drops: repairs for his car, mostly. And he may have bought takeout a few times for the nights when he was working late in the art building. But at least he'd stopped buying clothes.
He groans, stomping his foot as he pockets his phone again. Just when this day couldn't get any worse.
"People have gone weeks without eating and have survived, I'll be fine," Benji sighs, as he continues walking, his mood soured for the rest of the day.
As he approaches the library, he sees a sign outside and squints, trying to read it.
"Now hiring baristas—inquire within cafe"
"Perfect…" he says, lips curling up as he pushes the door open and enters.
Benji removes his earbuds and sticks them into his pocket as he shuffles across the dark brown hardwood floor of the library entrance, turning toward the entrance to the cafe.
And it's there in the middle of the walkway that Benji freezes in place once more, an arrow piercing his chest as he sees Victor, hand in hand with another man, lips pressed together as they lean across the table.
Victor withdraws, making a face, and his head snaps to the side.
"Benji! Wait!" he cries.
But Benji's body is on autopilot. He dashes back through the doors, smacking into another student but not even able to stop himself from running. His lungs catch fire as his feet hit the cement. The ground punches him back but he doesn't care. His eyes sting and all he wants is for the earth to swallow him up so he can just curl up and die.
"Please! I can explain!" Victor calls.
A vice on his arm tugging him backward interrupts him and he whips around against his will. He's out of breath.
"Benji… Please," Victor says, inhaling deeply. "Please let me explain. It's not what it looks like, I swear."
"Fuck off," Benji snaps through tears as he tries to shrug Victor off, breathless. "Get off me, asshole."
When Victor lets him go, Benji can't even look at him, but something keeps him rooted in place. He doesn't even bother to wipe his tears, instead letting them trail down his cheeks pathetically as the occasional passerby stops and stares, before whispering to their companions and marching on.
"I'm sorry you saw that…" Victor says, staying a respectful distance away from Benji. "But I didn't kiss him, he kissed me."
"Why should I believe you? It just looks like you were on a date with someone else," Benji says, still staring at the ground, arms crossed over his chest.
"Look… it wasn't a date…" Victor says, almost spitting when he says the word. "I don't want him. I was just meeting him so I could break things off with him."
Benji uncrosses his arms, glancing to the bench a few feet away and sitting down. He pats the spot beside him. "Go on."
Victor sighs as he sits down, leaving a space between them as he does.
"I'm sorry. I should have told you about this before because I care too much about you, and I was so scared to fuck this up that I ended up doing it anyway. But I never wanna put you in a position where you feel like you can't trust me ever again."
A flock of sparrows flutters inside Benji's chest and he can feel his lip curling up; he holds it down. "It's okay. That was your business…"
"No, it's not," Victor says, shaking his head, voice cracking as a tear makes a path down his face. "I had two friends I was hooking up with aside from you and I forgot about them until literally today when one of them texted me. But I realized…" he says, fidgeting with his hands as Benji watches with bated breath. "I realized I didn't want to be with either of them. I'm done hooking up for good. So I invited them here so I could end it. And clearly Chase had other plans but I promise you, I did not want to kiss him."
For a long moment, Benji says nothing, picking at his cuticles as he listens and wipes his eyes in the back of his hands. He slides closer to Victor on the bench so their legs are touching now. But at the same time, he can feel something in his chest cracking painfully; he doesn't know if it will hurt even more to say what he's about to say, but he has to know.
"Why?" Benji whispers.
Victor rises from the bench and kneels on the pavement in front of him, taking Benji's hand in his own.
"Wait, Victor, what are you doing?" Benji asks hurriedly, glancing around, voice wavering as his body goes rigid and more tears distort his vision. "Victor, get up. People are staring."
"Let them stare."
"Victor—"
"Hey, look at me. This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. Ever since you kissed me before we went away for break. Actually, even before that."
Benji swallows the lump in his throat as he stares down at Victor with wide eyes, pulse racing to the moon at the speed of light. His hand goes limp.
"You're scaring me."
"Look at me," Victor says again, determined this time, cupping Benji's face and smiling up at him through his own wet irises.
And Benji does, staring down at Victor's earnest, puppy-dog-like expression and exhaling as his heart stutters in his chest. Something about the way Victor's looking at him right now floods him with a sense of calm. His tears stop.
"Okay."
Victor clears his throat and takes a deep breath.
"Benjamin Oliver Campbell, will you be my boyfriend?"