Not Joking
A fill I did for the kink meme prompt of Benzaie/Phelous based on that rap video where Phelous said he loved Benzaie at the end! Yay, someone finally requested my other OTP for a fill! While I love writing Phelous/Snob, sometimes I'm a bit sad that people aren't as into Phelous/Benzaie. Oh well, at least someone else is now besides me and njdoodler112, so hurray!
Benzaie paced nervously back and force across the floor or his hotel room. His palms were slick with sweat, his heart was pounding out a rumba in his ears, and he couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds. No, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one thought that could echo through his mind for days, weeks, even months.
Phelous loved him.
Benzaie’s breathing stuttered and he reached out to grip the back of a chair for support. How could this be happening? How could his simple world of making Internet videos and goofing off with his fellow producers have been flipped topsy-turvy?
The fateful conversation repeated in Benzaie’s mind in an endless loop. It had started so innocently, when the producers had gathered for breakfast that morning before leaving for the day’s shoot.
Benzaie set his plates of food down before sliding into a booth and smiling brightly at the tall man sitting opposite him.
“I’m so glad the weather’s gotten better,” he told Phelous before taking a bite of his bagel. “Everyone was so worried that this fucking cold patch would slow down the production.”
“I know,” Phelous agreed with a nod. “It’s a shame we can’t film all indoor scenes, like we do with our regular videos and crossovers.” Benzaie forked a piece of sausage and grinned.
“Oh yeah, squeezing over 20 people into a hotel room would be no fucking problem,” he joked before taking a satisfying bite. “Just make sure we can snag ourselves a bed, and we’re sure to be comfortable.” Phelous chuckled.
“Yeah, like we did in our ‘Humains’ crossover. I was certainly comfortable when we filmed that.” Benzaie waggled his eyebrows suggestively at him.
“I will never forget that day: the warmth of your body as we lay side by side under the cover, the feeling of your strong, masculine arms embracing me, or your soft, huge hands on my neck,” he said in all seriousness before bursting out into laughter. Benzaie glanced down then to grab his other bagel half, and missed the way Phelous’s face started to burn crimson.
“Maybe we should… do another crossover this year,” he suggested softly. If Benzaie had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed the hint of uncertainty mingled with longing in the taller man’s tone. Unfortunately, his struggle with the margarine packet had his full attention.
“What? Oh, yeah, that could be fun. I don’t really have any new movies or games with me to review though.”
“I could look through what I brought,” Phelous said, a little too quickly. Benzaie glanced up at him, somewhat surprised, but smiled reassuringly.
“Hey, man, don’t put yourself through too much trouble for me. I can come up with some shit for a video no problem. Hell, if I have to, I can just do another special ‘Benzaie’ rap and have you as my back-up dancer.” Benzaie chuckled at the image, while Phelous’s face grew redder. He quickly looked down into his cereal bowl.
“I wouldn’t mind doing that,” he mumbled at an almost inaudible level.
“Oh yeah, and I’m sure the fans would really fucking enjoy that,” Benzaie continued, still laughing even though his mouth was full of egg. “We’ll just have to come up with a joke for you that tops you saying you loved me from that last song.”
It was quiet for a moment, aside from the sound of Benzaie chewing.
“That wasn’t a joke.”
Benzaie, who had been reaching for his glass of orange juice, froze.
“W-what?” He must have misheard Phelous; it was terribly noisy in that café after all. There was no way he could have meant what he said… right? Benzaie slowly moved his gaze up to Phelous’s face and his breath caught in his throat when he realized how embarrassed the taller man looked.
“I-I mean, of course it was a joke,” he said, much too quickly and in a voice much too high to be believable. Benzaie’s lips moved for a moment, but no words came out at first.
“Phelous, I-I,” he finally managed to say, but it was too late by then. Phelous had already slid out of the booth before Benzaie even realized he was moving.
“I’m sorry, that was a really stupid fucking joke,” Phelous said, refusing to look at the other man. “Just forget I said it.” By the time Benzaie could even begin to think of a response, Phelous was on the other side of the room and heading out the door.
Now, eight hours later, after an awkward day of shooting where Phelous had avoided being near Benzaie at all cost, the Frenchman found himself just as confused as he’d been that morning.
“Phelous couldn’t really have meant what he said, right? He was joking, he must have been. There’s no way he could… I mean, I’ve always joked about it… I never thought seriously… although there were a few fantasies, I admit but… he couldn’t really be interested in… could I ever be interested in… I’ve always said love is love, no matter what… his hands really did feel nice...”
Benzaie’s nonsensical rambling was halted by a hesitant knock on his door. He hurried over to check the peephole and felt his throat go dry when he saw Phelous standing in the hallway. Without thinking about it, Benzaie unlocked his door and flung it open.
“Oh,” Phelous said, looking startled by the sudden appearance of the shorter man. He was slouching just a bit, and grasping his left hand tightly in his right. The faintest hint of a blush still colored his cheeks. “I just wanted to apologize again… about earlier. It was a stupid fucking joke, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it-”
Phelous broke off when he felt Benzaie’s hands land upon his shoulders and gently urged him to bend down so the shorter man could lean in for a kiss. It was quick and a little dry, but Phelous still felt his breath taken away.
“What was that?” he asked, truly confused when Benzaie pulled back. Now it was the Frenchman’s turn to look embarrassed.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, still gripping Phelous’s shoulders rather tightly. “I don’t know about what it’s like to date a guy, but I wouldn’t mind trying it with you. If you really weren’t joking about that,” he added quickly, suddenly terrified that he had misinterpreted the whole event.
His doubts were swept away when Phelous pulled him against his chest and kissed him so strongly his lips were still sore the next day. Then they were obliterated when Phelous pushed him onto the bed and started kissing all over his body.
Benzaie would definitely have to write a new rap.
Benzaie paced nervously back and force across the floor or his hotel room. His palms were slick with sweat, his heart was pounding out a rumba in his ears, and he couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds. No, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one thought that could echo through his mind for days, weeks, even months.
Phelous loved him.
Benzaie’s breathing stuttered and he reached out to grip the back of a chair for support. How could this be happening? How could his simple world of making Internet videos and goofing off with his fellow producers have been flipped topsy-turvy?
The fateful conversation repeated in Benzaie’s mind in an endless loop. It had started so innocently, when the producers had gathered for breakfast that morning before leaving for the day’s shoot.
Benzaie set his plates of food down before sliding into a booth and smiling brightly at the tall man sitting opposite him.
“I’m so glad the weather’s gotten better,” he told Phelous before taking a bite of his bagel. “Everyone was so worried that this fucking cold patch would slow down the production.”
“I know,” Phelous agreed with a nod. “It’s a shame we can’t film all indoor scenes, like we do with our regular videos and crossovers.” Benzaie forked a piece of sausage and grinned.
“Oh yeah, squeezing over 20 people into a hotel room would be no fucking problem,” he joked before taking a satisfying bite. “Just make sure we can snag ourselves a bed, and we’re sure to be comfortable.” Phelous chuckled.
“Yeah, like we did in our ‘Humains’ crossover. I was certainly comfortable when we filmed that.” Benzaie waggled his eyebrows suggestively at him.
“I will never forget that day: the warmth of your body as we lay side by side under the cover, the feeling of your strong, masculine arms embracing me, or your soft, huge hands on my neck,” he said in all seriousness before bursting out into laughter. Benzaie glanced down then to grab his other bagel half, and missed the way Phelous’s face started to burn crimson.
“Maybe we should… do another crossover this year,” he suggested softly. If Benzaie had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed the hint of uncertainty mingled with longing in the taller man’s tone. Unfortunately, his struggle with the margarine packet had his full attention.
“What? Oh, yeah, that could be fun. I don’t really have any new movies or games with me to review though.”
“I could look through what I brought,” Phelous said, a little too quickly. Benzaie glanced up at him, somewhat surprised, but smiled reassuringly.
“Hey, man, don’t put yourself through too much trouble for me. I can come up with some shit for a video no problem. Hell, if I have to, I can just do another special ‘Benzaie’ rap and have you as my back-up dancer.” Benzaie chuckled at the image, while Phelous’s face grew redder. He quickly looked down into his cereal bowl.
“I wouldn’t mind doing that,” he mumbled at an almost inaudible level.
“Oh yeah, and I’m sure the fans would really fucking enjoy that,” Benzaie continued, still laughing even though his mouth was full of egg. “We’ll just have to come up with a joke for you that tops you saying you loved me from that last song.”
It was quiet for a moment, aside from the sound of Benzaie chewing.
“That wasn’t a joke.”
Benzaie, who had been reaching for his glass of orange juice, froze.
“W-what?” He must have misheard Phelous; it was terribly noisy in that café after all. There was no way he could have meant what he said… right? Benzaie slowly moved his gaze up to Phelous’s face and his breath caught in his throat when he realized how embarrassed the taller man looked.
“I-I mean, of course it was a joke,” he said, much too quickly and in a voice much too high to be believable. Benzaie’s lips moved for a moment, but no words came out at first.
“Phelous, I-I,” he finally managed to say, but it was too late by then. Phelous had already slid out of the booth before Benzaie even realized he was moving.
“I’m sorry, that was a really stupid fucking joke,” Phelous said, refusing to look at the other man. “Just forget I said it.” By the time Benzaie could even begin to think of a response, Phelous was on the other side of the room and heading out the door.
Now, eight hours later, after an awkward day of shooting where Phelous had avoided being near Benzaie at all cost, the Frenchman found himself just as confused as he’d been that morning.
“Phelous couldn’t really have meant what he said, right? He was joking, he must have been. There’s no way he could… I mean, I’ve always joked about it… I never thought seriously… although there were a few fantasies, I admit but… he couldn’t really be interested in… could I ever be interested in… I’ve always said love is love, no matter what… his hands really did feel nice...”
Benzaie’s nonsensical rambling was halted by a hesitant knock on his door. He hurried over to check the peephole and felt his throat go dry when he saw Phelous standing in the hallway. Without thinking about it, Benzaie unlocked his door and flung it open.
“Oh,” Phelous said, looking startled by the sudden appearance of the shorter man. He was slouching just a bit, and grasping his left hand tightly in his right. The faintest hint of a blush still colored his cheeks. “I just wanted to apologize again… about earlier. It was a stupid fucking joke, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it-”
Phelous broke off when he felt Benzaie’s hands land upon his shoulders and gently urged him to bend down so the shorter man could lean in for a kiss. It was quick and a little dry, but Phelous still felt his breath taken away.
“What was that?” he asked, truly confused when Benzaie pulled back. Now it was the Frenchman’s turn to look embarrassed.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, still gripping Phelous’s shoulders rather tightly. “I don’t know about what it’s like to date a guy, but I wouldn’t mind trying it with you. If you really weren’t joking about that,” he added quickly, suddenly terrified that he had misinterpreted the whole event.
His doubts were swept away when Phelous pulled him against his chest and kissed him so strongly his lips were still sore the next day. Then they were obliterated when Phelous pushed him onto the bed and started kissing all over his body.
Benzaie would definitely have to write a new rap.