where the colors are too intense
((Scene following this conversation. Warning on both for homophobic language, and on this log for brief violence.))
* Emerson smokes while he walks, going to Ben's house in the middle of the night to leave him an envelope because he feels he is totally done, even if he knows he'll eventually end up right back at home. He's pissed off enough that walking around with all his important possessions stuffed in a bag makes sense, like he can escape. Emerson makes a face and stares at Ben's house from the street, cussing under his breath. "This is all your fucking fault. I hate you, Leoben Conoy." He glares at the house a while longer before starting up the walkway, manilla envelope clutched in his hand.
* BenC is down in the kitchen getting a glass of milk on the faint hope it'll help him calm down; Hilde followed him down, and is sitting (even though she's really too big to) in his lap as he sits in the kitchen and drinks it-- until she jumps down and goes scrambling towards the front door with a sharp bark. "Hilde," Ben hisses, automatically. "/Quiet--/" and follows a moment later, glass of milk still in hand, keeping an ear out in case the noise woke up his grandpa.
* Emerson makes a face at the sound of the dog but keeps heading up the walk until he's standing outside the door, a dark shadow. He bends down out of sight and starts fussing with the stupid envelope, trying to shove it under the door.
* BenC tenses at the shadow outside and the rustling noises under the door. If it's a burglar-- well, Ben is wearing pajama pants and nothing else, but he's got Hilde and a milk glass to defend him, and it also seems to be a pretty crappy burglar. So he feels pretty safe unlocking the door and cracking it open and-- "Em, what the hell."
* Emerson stops dead and then realizes it's Ben and cusses loudly. He /shoves/ the envelope at Ben, his name written on it in Emerson's terse print. "There."
* BenC takes the envelope automatically and stares at it a moment while Hilde, who is excellent at /not/ noticing what's wrong at all the wrong times, goes and sits between them on the front step and wags her tail cheerfully. "Just-- wait a minute, would you?" he mutters, with little faith Em actually will, and tears the envelope open and pulls out the bracelet and the note. There's a moment's blank stare before he actually gets to /reading/ the thing.
* Emerson crosses his arms, fidgeting more than usual. The note is medium in length, mostly angry ramblings and a whole lot of accusation though over what is anyone's guess. He smokes and crosses his arms. "Hurry up."
* BenC reads through, looking vaguely but increasingly bewildered, and fiddling absently with the bracelet. ". . . what," he concludes helpfully when he's done. "Seriously, are you sober? Because-- /trying/ to pass it on? You're not even making--" he looks down at the note, then back up at Em, and /stares./ ". . . oh."
* Emerson glares before turning away completely. "Don't give me that. Don't even." He shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette on the porch. "Anyway, chalk this up to number 2. I'm getting out of this town and it's your fault. Kiss of death."
[BenC] "He was my /boyfriend,/ okay?" It's the only thing Ben can think of to say, and it comes out all strangled, kind of tired and kind of angry and kind of like he's been punched in the gut. "We were dating for like six months, you don't even-- where are you even gonna /go?/" He's not even trying to be coherent any more.
[Emerson] "I don't care what he was. I'm not going to have everyone putting me with you. I'm not like that. And I don't need it. I definitely don't need /you/." Em shook his head, took a step down from the porch. He avoided Ben's question, hoped he wouldn't notice.
* BenC folds his arms across his bare chest, still holding Em's bracelet in one hand. "Where. Are you. Gonna go?"
* Emerson presses his lips together, making them a thin line. "You should go to bed."
* BenC doesn't budge. "You don't have anywhere, do you.'
* Emerson snorts. "Why would I tell you?"
* BenC shrugs a little. "No reason you should."
[Emerson] "Exactly." Em shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and takes another step off the porch. "...I /trusted/ you." He sighs.
* BenC watches him steadily-- as steadily as he can, under the circumstances. (Em kissed him, never mind where, and /meant/ it. Em kissed him. Em /likes/ him, God help them both.) "Well, I trusted you too. It's all fair."
[Emerson] "No it's not! You lied!" Em spins around as he speaks, advancing on Ben. "It wasn't fair at all! Tricking me...making...I...You tricked me."
[BenC] "I didn't," Ben objects immediately. Hilde whines again, softly, and looks up at him. "I didn't lie, I didn't trick you into anything, I said I wasn't looking to date anybody and I /meant/ it."
[Emerson] "You didn't tell me any of this, you didn't act upfront. /Omission/ is a sin too, Ben! The lies you tell, the truth you don't. It's all exactly the same." Em shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes. "You made me trust you. Made yourself into my...my best friend. And now...this?" Em gestured around, vague. "...Liar."
[BenC] "Then you lied to me too." Ben straightens up a little. He's still shorter, but it makes him feel a little better anyway. "Ever since we started hanging out, you've been-- there's the licking and the biting and you /kissed/ me and never told me you meant it, so how much of a liar does that make /you/?"
* Emerson points, a little frantic there. "No! That was not my fault! That was all you." Em shook his head, in total denial. "I was just screwing around, it didn't /mean/ anything!"
[BenC] "My fault." Ben leans up from the doorframe. He's starting to get goosebumps; it's chilly out here, okay. "You pushed me down and kissed me and it's my fault, it didn't mean anything, so why are you leaving exactly?"
[Emerson] "I don't want to be around you. You're not going to make me something I'm /not/."
* BenC laughs shortly. "I'm not /making/ you anything. You're the way God made you to be."
* Emerson closes the distance between them and points none too gently into Ben's chest. "That is a /lie/. Stop /lying/!"
* BenC glares up at him, goes to swat the hand away, and on a whim just grabs Em's finger and holds on instead, like a petulant little kid. "Make up your mind," he says, more shakily than he'd like. "Either I /made/ you gay, or something, and that kiss meant something, or it didn't mean anything and you're not 'turning' into anything."
* Emerson stares at his finger, at Ben holding on, for a minute before he pulls back and drives his fist into Ben's stomach. "I'm. Not. Gay." He stays there, waiting to see what happens, ready to catch Ben, if he really has to.
* BenC isn't expecting that, and wouldn't've defended against it even if he had been. He lets out a choked grunt and doubles over-- probably into Em, yeah, considering how close they're standing-- and doesn't answer, just wheezes for breath for a minute.
* Emerson slides a arm around Ben's back, the other hand pressing against his shoulder to unfold him. Em looks so angry and confused, like he doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't want to know, maybe. "...Why?"
* BenC leans into Em's arm despite himself; he's pretty pissed at him still, but he needs the support-- and okay, he likes the contact, but that's a whole half of this situation he doesn't remotely dare consider right now. "Why what?"
* Emerson closes his eyes and shakes his head for the nth time of the evening. Emerson swallows hard. There's a whole lot of "why"s he could ask...but he's pretty sure he doesn't /really/ want to know. "...You just..." He looks at Ben, looking for something there in his face but not even Em knows what.
* BenC moves to sit down in the doorway, still breathless and increasingly sore, and quite possibly tugs Em down next to him in the process. "I'm sorry," he answers at last, voice cracking a little. "I didn't ask for this, I didn't /make/ any of this happen. But I'm sorry."
* Emerson sits down in front of him, still holding on to Ben's shoulder, fingers twitching. "...Ben." Em's lip is bitten, his eyes closed. "...I don't. I don't want to...to..." He sighs explosively. "Don't apologize when I just gut punched you, stupid."
* BenC chokes down a noise that's probably a laugh. "I don't know what else to do," he admits. "I don't-- I don't want this either," he blurts, not much surer of what he means than Em is.
* Emerson frowns, thoughtful, his hand still lingering on Ben's shoulder. He leans forward to press his forehead to Ben's and frowns some more. "I hate all of this. M'so confused..." He sighs, breath huffing warmly against Ben's face. "I just...I kind of want," he trails off, fingers shifting to touch Ben's neck, his pulse overloud in his ears.
[BenC] "Stop it," Ben says, senselessly, and closes his eyes. "Em, I--" he wants, he doesn't want, he doesn't want to want this, Em /punched/ him with that same hand that feels really nice and warm on his neck right now -- "This is the stupidest idea in the universe," he concludes, weakly, and discovers too late that his own hand is clenched in the front of Em's jacket.
[Emerson] "Pro...bably." Em doesn't move though, just stays there like his is, hand on Ben's neck, foreheads pressed together. "But...it's." He glanced sideways, biting his lip almost too hard. "...What if. I. Want to? I...like it?" He shuddered slightly, unsure.
* BenC isn't moving either; he feels like something will shatter if he moves at all, though he isn't sure what. ". . . what if I like it too?" He sounds, to his own ears, kind of terrified.
[Emerson] "I dunno, Ben." Em's hand shifts, fingers curling slightly around the back of his neck. "I don't...know." Awkwardly he presses his lips to Ben's, hesitant, pretty clearly not all that experienced.
* BenC makes a small surprised noise, even though he knew this was coming, and hesitates an instant before leaning a bit closer and kissing Em back, just as cautiously. He /has/ got some experience at that, but only with one person, and it's awfully hard to be reassuring when he's shaking all over. (And not from the cold; whatever he's feeling now, it's definitely not cold.)
* Emerson is very deliberate, kissing more carefully than he probably needs to before pulling away. His hand lingers on Ben's neck. "Y-you," he stops, clears his throat, and tries again, "You should go inside. You're..uhm. Gonna. Get sick." His cheeks are red, warm, and he knows it, so he ducks his head forward, hair falling into his eyes.
* BenC reaches up, automatically, to brush the hair back out of Em's eyes with his free hand. "I'm not cold." The sun's coming up, and they're both supposed to be at school in like three hours, and he just kissed his best friend right out here on the porch. But he's not cold.
* Emerson mumbles softly, and ducks his head again out of sheer habit, some hair falling back into his eyes. "...I-I should get home. And. You should sleep." He looks at Ben, a little afraid, a little sick to his stomach.
[BenC] "Yeah, I guess." Ben brushes his fingers over Em's cheek a moment longer before withdrawing his hand; his gut is all clenched up and he can't figure out if it's fear or nerves or just being punched. "I, uh. We'll talk about this later, okay, we'll figure it out. Just please don't /go./" He pats around on the porch without looking away, finds the bracelet he dropped, and offers it back quietly.
* Emerson takes the bracelet and Ben's hand both, squeezing. "Later. Yeah. We uhm. We'll talk later." He nodded, more to himself than Ben before slowly getting to his feet. He offers his hands to Ben, to help him up.
* BenC smiles, quick and faint, at the squeeze to his hand, and returns it as he pushes himself to his feet with Em's help. On impulse he hugs the other boy, tightly, pressing his face momentarily against Em's shoulder. "It'll be okay." It's as much a reassurance for himself, though.
[Emerson] "S'okay," he agrees quietly. He holds Ben in the hug before letting go, cheeks coloring all over again. "Go inside and get some sleep. I uh. I'll...see you later."
* BenC has no particular intention of going to school, at this point, but in the interests of Setting a Good Example or something he keeps that to himself. "Later," he echoes, and just /looks/ at Em uncertainly for a minute before vanishing inside.
* Emerson turns right around and heads home after that because doing anything else would require /thinking/. So he just crashes out for a little while, vowing to take some caffeine pills so as not to fall asleep in class and definitely not thinking of kissing Ben.
* Emerson smokes while he walks, going to Ben's house in the middle of the night to leave him an envelope because he feels he is totally done, even if he knows he'll eventually end up right back at home. He's pissed off enough that walking around with all his important possessions stuffed in a bag makes sense, like he can escape. Emerson makes a face and stares at Ben's house from the street, cussing under his breath. "This is all your fucking fault. I hate you, Leoben Conoy." He glares at the house a while longer before starting up the walkway, manilla envelope clutched in his hand.
* BenC is down in the kitchen getting a glass of milk on the faint hope it'll help him calm down; Hilde followed him down, and is sitting (even though she's really too big to) in his lap as he sits in the kitchen and drinks it-- until she jumps down and goes scrambling towards the front door with a sharp bark. "Hilde," Ben hisses, automatically. "/Quiet--/" and follows a moment later, glass of milk still in hand, keeping an ear out in case the noise woke up his grandpa.
* Emerson makes a face at the sound of the dog but keeps heading up the walk until he's standing outside the door, a dark shadow. He bends down out of sight and starts fussing with the stupid envelope, trying to shove it under the door.
* BenC tenses at the shadow outside and the rustling noises under the door. If it's a burglar-- well, Ben is wearing pajama pants and nothing else, but he's got Hilde and a milk glass to defend him, and it also seems to be a pretty crappy burglar. So he feels pretty safe unlocking the door and cracking it open and-- "Em, what the hell."
* Emerson stops dead and then realizes it's Ben and cusses loudly. He /shoves/ the envelope at Ben, his name written on it in Emerson's terse print. "There."
* BenC takes the envelope automatically and stares at it a moment while Hilde, who is excellent at /not/ noticing what's wrong at all the wrong times, goes and sits between them on the front step and wags her tail cheerfully. "Just-- wait a minute, would you?" he mutters, with little faith Em actually will, and tears the envelope open and pulls out the bracelet and the note. There's a moment's blank stare before he actually gets to /reading/ the thing.
* Emerson crosses his arms, fidgeting more than usual. The note is medium in length, mostly angry ramblings and a whole lot of accusation though over what is anyone's guess. He smokes and crosses his arms. "Hurry up."
* BenC reads through, looking vaguely but increasingly bewildered, and fiddling absently with the bracelet. ". . . what," he concludes helpfully when he's done. "Seriously, are you sober? Because-- /trying/ to pass it on? You're not even making--" he looks down at the note, then back up at Em, and /stares./ ". . . oh."
* Emerson glares before turning away completely. "Don't give me that. Don't even." He shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette on the porch. "Anyway, chalk this up to number 2. I'm getting out of this town and it's your fault. Kiss of death."
[BenC] "He was my /boyfriend,/ okay?" It's the only thing Ben can think of to say, and it comes out all strangled, kind of tired and kind of angry and kind of like he's been punched in the gut. "We were dating for like six months, you don't even-- where are you even gonna /go?/" He's not even trying to be coherent any more.
[Emerson] "I don't care what he was. I'm not going to have everyone putting me with you. I'm not like that. And I don't need it. I definitely don't need /you/." Em shook his head, took a step down from the porch. He avoided Ben's question, hoped he wouldn't notice.
* BenC folds his arms across his bare chest, still holding Em's bracelet in one hand. "Where. Are you. Gonna go?"
* Emerson presses his lips together, making them a thin line. "You should go to bed."
* BenC doesn't budge. "You don't have anywhere, do you.'
* Emerson snorts. "Why would I tell you?"
* BenC shrugs a little. "No reason you should."
[Emerson] "Exactly." Em shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and takes another step off the porch. "...I /trusted/ you." He sighs.
* BenC watches him steadily-- as steadily as he can, under the circumstances. (Em kissed him, never mind where, and /meant/ it. Em kissed him. Em /likes/ him, God help them both.) "Well, I trusted you too. It's all fair."
[Emerson] "No it's not! You lied!" Em spins around as he speaks, advancing on Ben. "It wasn't fair at all! Tricking me...making...I...You tricked me."
[BenC] "I didn't," Ben objects immediately. Hilde whines again, softly, and looks up at him. "I didn't lie, I didn't trick you into anything, I said I wasn't looking to date anybody and I /meant/ it."
[Emerson] "You didn't tell me any of this, you didn't act upfront. /Omission/ is a sin too, Ben! The lies you tell, the truth you don't. It's all exactly the same." Em shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes. "You made me trust you. Made yourself into my...my best friend. And now...this?" Em gestured around, vague. "...Liar."
[BenC] "Then you lied to me too." Ben straightens up a little. He's still shorter, but it makes him feel a little better anyway. "Ever since we started hanging out, you've been-- there's the licking and the biting and you /kissed/ me and never told me you meant it, so how much of a liar does that make /you/?"
* Emerson points, a little frantic there. "No! That was not my fault! That was all you." Em shook his head, in total denial. "I was just screwing around, it didn't /mean/ anything!"
[BenC] "My fault." Ben leans up from the doorframe. He's starting to get goosebumps; it's chilly out here, okay. "You pushed me down and kissed me and it's my fault, it didn't mean anything, so why are you leaving exactly?"
[Emerson] "I don't want to be around you. You're not going to make me something I'm /not/."
* BenC laughs shortly. "I'm not /making/ you anything. You're the way God made you to be."
* Emerson closes the distance between them and points none too gently into Ben's chest. "That is a /lie/. Stop /lying/!"
* BenC glares up at him, goes to swat the hand away, and on a whim just grabs Em's finger and holds on instead, like a petulant little kid. "Make up your mind," he says, more shakily than he'd like. "Either I /made/ you gay, or something, and that kiss meant something, or it didn't mean anything and you're not 'turning' into anything."
* Emerson stares at his finger, at Ben holding on, for a minute before he pulls back and drives his fist into Ben's stomach. "I'm. Not. Gay." He stays there, waiting to see what happens, ready to catch Ben, if he really has to.
* BenC isn't expecting that, and wouldn't've defended against it even if he had been. He lets out a choked grunt and doubles over-- probably into Em, yeah, considering how close they're standing-- and doesn't answer, just wheezes for breath for a minute.
* Emerson slides a arm around Ben's back, the other hand pressing against his shoulder to unfold him. Em looks so angry and confused, like he doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't want to know, maybe. "...Why?"
* BenC leans into Em's arm despite himself; he's pretty pissed at him still, but he needs the support-- and okay, he likes the contact, but that's a whole half of this situation he doesn't remotely dare consider right now. "Why what?"
* Emerson closes his eyes and shakes his head for the nth time of the evening. Emerson swallows hard. There's a whole lot of "why"s he could ask...but he's pretty sure he doesn't /really/ want to know. "...You just..." He looks at Ben, looking for something there in his face but not even Em knows what.
* BenC moves to sit down in the doorway, still breathless and increasingly sore, and quite possibly tugs Em down next to him in the process. "I'm sorry," he answers at last, voice cracking a little. "I didn't ask for this, I didn't /make/ any of this happen. But I'm sorry."
* Emerson sits down in front of him, still holding on to Ben's shoulder, fingers twitching. "...Ben." Em's lip is bitten, his eyes closed. "...I don't. I don't want to...to..." He sighs explosively. "Don't apologize when I just gut punched you, stupid."
* BenC chokes down a noise that's probably a laugh. "I don't know what else to do," he admits. "I don't-- I don't want this either," he blurts, not much surer of what he means than Em is.
* Emerson frowns, thoughtful, his hand still lingering on Ben's shoulder. He leans forward to press his forehead to Ben's and frowns some more. "I hate all of this. M'so confused..." He sighs, breath huffing warmly against Ben's face. "I just...I kind of want," he trails off, fingers shifting to touch Ben's neck, his pulse overloud in his ears.
[BenC] "Stop it," Ben says, senselessly, and closes his eyes. "Em, I--" he wants, he doesn't want, he doesn't want to want this, Em /punched/ him with that same hand that feels really nice and warm on his neck right now -- "This is the stupidest idea in the universe," he concludes, weakly, and discovers too late that his own hand is clenched in the front of Em's jacket.
[Emerson] "Pro...bably." Em doesn't move though, just stays there like his is, hand on Ben's neck, foreheads pressed together. "But...it's." He glanced sideways, biting his lip almost too hard. "...What if. I. Want to? I...like it?" He shuddered slightly, unsure.
* BenC isn't moving either; he feels like something will shatter if he moves at all, though he isn't sure what. ". . . what if I like it too?" He sounds, to his own ears, kind of terrified.
[Emerson] "I dunno, Ben." Em's hand shifts, fingers curling slightly around the back of his neck. "I don't...know." Awkwardly he presses his lips to Ben's, hesitant, pretty clearly not all that experienced.
* BenC makes a small surprised noise, even though he knew this was coming, and hesitates an instant before leaning a bit closer and kissing Em back, just as cautiously. He /has/ got some experience at that, but only with one person, and it's awfully hard to be reassuring when he's shaking all over. (And not from the cold; whatever he's feeling now, it's definitely not cold.)
* Emerson is very deliberate, kissing more carefully than he probably needs to before pulling away. His hand lingers on Ben's neck. "Y-you," he stops, clears his throat, and tries again, "You should go inside. You're..uhm. Gonna. Get sick." His cheeks are red, warm, and he knows it, so he ducks his head forward, hair falling into his eyes.
* BenC reaches up, automatically, to brush the hair back out of Em's eyes with his free hand. "I'm not cold." The sun's coming up, and they're both supposed to be at school in like three hours, and he just kissed his best friend right out here on the porch. But he's not cold.
* Emerson mumbles softly, and ducks his head again out of sheer habit, some hair falling back into his eyes. "...I-I should get home. And. You should sleep." He looks at Ben, a little afraid, a little sick to his stomach.
[BenC] "Yeah, I guess." Ben brushes his fingers over Em's cheek a moment longer before withdrawing his hand; his gut is all clenched up and he can't figure out if it's fear or nerves or just being punched. "I, uh. We'll talk about this later, okay, we'll figure it out. Just please don't /go./" He pats around on the porch without looking away, finds the bracelet he dropped, and offers it back quietly.
* Emerson takes the bracelet and Ben's hand both, squeezing. "Later. Yeah. We uhm. We'll talk later." He nodded, more to himself than Ben before slowly getting to his feet. He offers his hands to Ben, to help him up.
* BenC smiles, quick and faint, at the squeeze to his hand, and returns it as he pushes himself to his feet with Em's help. On impulse he hugs the other boy, tightly, pressing his face momentarily against Em's shoulder. "It'll be okay." It's as much a reassurance for himself, though.
[Emerson] "S'okay," he agrees quietly. He holds Ben in the hug before letting go, cheeks coloring all over again. "Go inside and get some sleep. I uh. I'll...see you later."
* BenC has no particular intention of going to school, at this point, but in the interests of Setting a Good Example or something he keeps that to himself. "Later," he echoes, and just /looks/ at Em uncertainly for a minute before vanishing inside.
* Emerson turns right around and heads home after that because doing anything else would require /thinking/. So he just crashes out for a little while, vowing to take some caffeine pills so as not to fall asleep in class and definitely not thinking of kissing Ben.