The Battle (Bentley/fish and chips=OTP)
It was one of those rare lazy afternoons where Connor was playing with his precious ADD, Cutter was sulking silently for a change, Lester was blissfully absent, the boys were being all manly doing manly… things, and random people could be found shagging in even more random places. One of those rare lazy afternoons where Maurice Bentley could find himself a quiet corner and after making sure no one would disturb him could completely shut out the outside world, immersed in his own heaven entirely dominated by one passion: fish and chips. The first bite always made his eyelids flutter closed in relish and from then on it was a simple yet exquisite ride of pure bliss.
But today, unbeknownst to him, there was a terrible danger lurking behind the half-closed door. His senses were so focused on the immediate pleasures of his tasting buds that he didn’t notice the door being pushed open slowly, the cautiously approaching footsteps didn’t alarm him to the peril until it was too late. Suddenly a hand reached out, fast like a bullet, and before Bentley could do anything two chips were viciously kidnapped and devoured by a greedy mouth.
“The Torquay seagull,” Stephen grinned. “No fish and chips complete without a fight.”
Stephen continued to grin as he swallowed his pirated food but Bentley just kept looking straight at him, without a flinch, without even blinking. His icy glare would have made Connor cry and almost froze even Stephen’s good mood - almost.
“Do that again,” Bentley said in a low, dangerous voice. “And you’ll find a thermometer shoved up that pretty arse of yours.”
He fixed Stephen with his hard look for a few more moments then for the fraction of a second pulled a not quite sincere grin and he turned his attention back to his beloved fish and chips, leaving Stephen utterly confused.
“Touchy, isn’t he?” Stephen whispered to Ryan, who was standing in the doorway, more than a little amused.
“Bentley and his fish and chips, a never ending love affair,” Ryan chuckled.
“About the thermometer…” Stephen asked nervously. “That was a joke, right?”
A mischievous glint appeared in Ryan’s eyes.
“Lyle claims he can still feel its presence on long winter nights.”