Aug 01, 2008 13:29
“Daddy...”
Ken rubbed sleepily at his eyes. He thought he heard some-
“...Daddy...”
There it was again, but louder. The boy leaned over the side of his bunk and looked blearily at Devlin. His half-brother was talking in his sleep...Calling for Kevin. Before Ken could jump down to go fetch his own father, there was a quiet tap from the other side of their bedroom door.
Devlin jolted awake in time to see Ben slip through the door. He padded over to the bunk bed silently and sat down next to his adopted son. They were all quiet for a moment, the tension in the room not broken in the least by Ken hanging comically from his own bed.
Finally, Ben spoke, “You wanna talk about it?”
Devlin shook his head quietly. A blush of shame dusted his cheeks. He pined for the man that had tried to kill his new father and brother. The boy looked up when he felt Ben’s hand on his shoulder, the only warning before he was drawn into a big, scruffy bear hug. The awkward, scratchy hug lasted only a few moments before Devlin was released. Ben gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, glanced purposefully at Ken, then stood and bid them both good night before leaving the room.
Wordlessly, Ken righted himself and slipped down the ladder. Ignoring Devlin’s confused protests, he climbed into the bottom bunk and curled up against the dark-haired boy. Knowing how stubborn Ken could be, Devlin gave up before he even started and reluctantly cuddled back.
Devlin dropped back into a dreamless sleep and stayed that way, comforted by Ken’s steady warmth.
Sleep, however, evaded one Ben Tennyson. The hero found himself wandering down flights and flights of stairs to the solitude of the null void chamber. Here, all of the tiny grenade-shaped prisons housed the most vile criminals.
Here, one of the tiny grenade-shaped prisons housed Kevin.
Stepping up to null void egg in particular, set apart by the deep scratches left from its rough contact with the ground, Ben stopped. He reached out slowly and traced the scratches marring its pale yellow paint, then jerked his hand back as if burned. He was, in fact, burned by the hot metal shell.
Inspecting the holding cell closely, Ben noticed nothing other than the scratches. Still...It wasn’t normal for the cells to be so hot on the outside. He would have to keep an eye on Kevin’s cell for a while. Ben turned and walked to the door, giving the null void egg a lingering stare before switching off the light and walking out.
Only moments after Ben left, the egg rattled in its holder. From somewhere inside, a strangled voice cried, “Let me OUT!”
Being the rabid drama student that I am, I have an irrational love for all things theater-related. The only rational conclusion was to combine that love with Ben 10, SO I DID AND IT WAS GLORIOUS. This has a lot more light-hearted humor in it and INTENTIONAL MORNINGSTAR BASHING because it's funny. Also, Charmcaster is here because I adore her. I had to make up a name for her, which was kinda fun. My personal challenge for this was to see how FLAMING GAY I could make Ben and still keep him a little in character. (If you're not very familiar with theater productions, that's just fine. Most of what I'll be mentioning has a movie adaptation, and you can just ask me if you're confused about anything that doesn't. Or use wiki. Wiki is just fine too.)
“...Yes, I'll know when my love comes along. I'll know when my love comes along...”
A clear voice rang out from the middle of the theater, and Kevin briefly turned his attention away from the old woman speaking to him. The singer, a slender brunet wearing a green jacket, leaned against the back of a seat as the pretty redhead sitting next to him sang the final few bars of the song. When she finished, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a showy stage kiss, causing the lithe woman with white-blonde hair sitting in the next seat to burst out laughing. The redhead squawked in surprise and shoved the man off, wiping slobber from the corner of her mouth.
“-Well, sonny?” The old woman (Verity? Vivian? Some V-name), tapped Kevin on the shoulder, “Do we have a deal?”
“Er, yeah.” Kevin mumbled distractedly, glancing back at the brunet. He now had an arm wrapped around each of the girls he was sitting with, and they were all whispering and glancing at a tall young man practicing lines by himself near the exit. The white-blonde woman cleared her throat and launched into a nasally tune about feeling ill and unloved. Her companions cracked up, the brunet releasing both girls to wipe tears from his eyes. When his chuckles subsided and the tall man stormed off in a whirl of fluttering scarf and sparkly blond hair, the brunet looked up. His green eyes met Kevin’s and he flashed the surly man a mischievous grin. Catching the attention of the two girls he stood with, the man took a deep breath and bellowed in a voice that echoed across the hall.
“FRESH MEAT!”
A few stage hands, busy at work constructing scenery, glanced up with interest and there was a startled yelp from up on the catwalk. Embarrassed, Kevin looked around wildly, a flush creeping up on his pale cheeks. The attention focused on him was soon diverted to more important tasks such as climbing safely back onto the rickety catwalk or painting backgrounds. The dark-haired man glared at the brunet, who smiled cheerfully and waved.
“I see you’ve met our little star, Ben.” The elderly woman smirked and crossed her arms, “He’s been with us for a long time, so he seems to think that he rules the theater.”
Kevin huffed irately, “Well, I’ll knock him down a peg or two...” He grumbled evil plots darkly under his breath.
The woman’s smirk widened, “Will you now?”
“There’s nothing special about him,” Kevin scowled, “I know how to handle divas.” He crossed his arms sullenly.
The woman only shook her head and chuckled as she turned to walk away, “I certainly hope so.” She flashed him a grin over her shoulder, “Ben’s my grandson.”
---
“You know...Yelling ‘Fresh meat’ isn’t exactly the way to get on a guy’s good side.” The blonde sat cross-legged on the piano bench next to Ben, “You better have a good strategy if you want this one.”
Ben smirked and began picking out a careful tune on the grand piano, “Fatin, Fatin, Fatin...Have a little faith, my love.” He continued playing, “See how he blushed? He wants me.”
Fatin arched an eyebrow, “Or he was embarrassed. Sometimes, the new guy doesn’t want to be acknowledged.” She hummed quietly along to the slow tune Ben was playing, letting her purple eyes slide shut peacefully. A second later, she was jarred back to awareness as Ben hit a sour note.
“All part of my plan.”
Fatin frowned coolly, “What plan? You never plan things.” She ignored Ben’s affronted whine, “You seduce as you go!”
The brunet began playing again, “Okay, so I don’t have a plan. But I do have a vague idea!” He hit the same sour note again, but continued playing.
Fatin glared at her friend, debating whether or not it was worth asking. In the end, curiosity won out and she mumbled, “Go on...”
“Well, once that fruit, Morningstar-”
Fatin scoffed, “Big words coming from you, cupcake.”
“-Figures out that I’m interested in the new guy, he’ll swoop in to try and steal my new man.”
Fatin turned in the seat and began playing the same notes at the higher end of the keyboard, “History repeats itself.” She affirmed calmly.
Ben sped up his tempo in a challenge, “Right. So I fight off Morningstar and tall, pale, and handsome falls for me.”
Speeding up as well, Fatin chuckled, “There’s a few flaws with your plan.” At Ben’s inquiring hum, she continued, “What if he’s straight?”
“Did you see his boots?” Ben slowed down his playing by a fraction.
Fatin matched her pace accordingly, “Yeah, big black combat boots, probably steel-toed.” She summed them up in a single word, “Manly.”
“Yeah, black combat boots. But they were clean. Guys don’t keep clean boots unless they’re in the army...” He grinned impishly, “...Or gay.”
“Perhaps...” Fatin sped up the tempo this time, “But you have to admit that they weren’t typical gay footwear.” She was determined to win this piano contest...
“Fine. We’ll settle for bi-curious,” Ben matched her speed, “Next ‘flaw,’ please.”
“What if he has a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” She added hastily, seeing Ben’s fingers hover purposefully over the wrong key.
Ben laughed, stumbling over the next few notes, “C’mon, Fatin! If he was attached, there would have been no way he could have shown up alone! He’s applying for work at a theater, for chrissake!” Giving up, he leaned back on his hands, “Chicks dig the actors and the make-up, and, honestly...Gay men and theaters. You make the connection.”
Fatin slowed her playing considerably, “Okay, good point. Next problem: what if he wants to beat you up, not beat you o-”
“Simple,” Ben cut her off sharply, then began singing to the piano’s tune, “...I’m irresistible, you fool...”
Fatin’s fingers twitched awkwardly, hitting several off notes at once. Opening her mouth to snap at Ben, she was cut off by another voice.
“You really are full of yourself, Benjamin Tennyson.”
Ben grinned at the redhead, “How long have you been standing there, Gwen?” He scooted towards the middle of the bench, making a little room for his cousin.
Gwen sat on the edge of the bench, leaning against her cousin to squish him up against Fatin, “Since the bi-curious footwear.”
technical difficulties,
~sympathies go round and round,
fanfiction,
poster: the_tonberry,
flaming gay theater au