Thief of Hearts, Ch. 16
Title: Hanging on the Telephone
Rating: R
Pairing: Benji/Joel
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: This is AU. Mechanic!Benji meets Schoolboy!Joel. with apologies to Blondie, and thanks to zyre for rocking the Beta Phi House. Also with many apologies for the long wait - my life got in the way.
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |
It's good to hear your voice, you know it's been so long
If I don't get your call then everything goes wrong
I want to tell you something you've known all along
Don't leave me hanging on the telephone
*
Two weeks later the buzz of the tattoo needle filled Benji's ears, the white noise washing over him as he zoned out. The pain was hitting that threshold where the red glaze swam behind his eyes and it almost turned into euphoria if you let it. Endorphin rush. Some guys got hard over it, but Benji wasn't one of them; he just zoned out, blissed out sometimes, hitting that plateau where his mind drifted outside his body. Asshole was filling in the design on his chest, going through the different colors and applying them section by section. His careful, even fill work was one of the hallmarks of his artistry. He wiped carefully at the excess fluids as he worked, and finally he sat back, swiping his arm over his forehead.
"It's done."
Benji looked down at his latest tattoo, resisting the urge to run his fingers over it.
"Perfect."
Asshole smiled at him, a rare sweet smile, not a smirk or a grin. Benji leaned in, wrapping his right arm around Asshole's shoulders, pressing their foreheads together, careful to keep his new tattoo out of range.
"Thank you."
Asshole squeezed him carefully and sat back a little to look Benji in the eye. "You know I would do anything. Anything for you. Right?"
"I know," Benji smiled.
"OK then." Asshole finished up and taped some plastic over the tattoo and Benji shrugged back into his shirt, buttoning it back up gingerly.
He stood up, looking around the shop briefly as he pulled on his coat, shoving his arms into the sleeves, and turned back to Asshole, pulling him into a tight hug. Asshole patted Benji's shoulder a little awkwardly.
"Benji?" he questioned softly.
"Yeah. It's nothing, man. It's all good. Thank you. For everything." Benji backed up, flashing a smile at Asshole's confused face and turning to exit the shop.
***
Joel and Mark lay perpendicular on Joel's bed, Joel resting his head on Mark's stomach as he read a magazine, one ankle crossed over his opposite knee. He reached out and flicked his fingers through Joel's shaggy black hair.
"You should cut this mop, Joel. You look so prep-school-boy-gone-bad."
Joel snorted.
Mark grinned. It was true. Joel's hair was getting so long it was starting to curl over his collar; it was thick and a little wavy. Mark carded his fingers through it loosely. Joel sighed and let the magazine drop to his chest, closing his eyes.
"You're still thinking about Benji," Mark said softly.
Joel nodded.
"This is... ok, this is retarded," Joel said, "But. He grew his hair out for me once." He grinned. "It was funny. He looked so hot with long hair. And he hated it too, he was always shoving out of his eyes."
"It didn't look that long when we saw him."
Joel sighed. "He shaved it off when he dumped me. He got a mohawk. I guess it must've been right before he came to see me, because it wasn't like that the day before."
"That's so girly."
"What?!"
"It IS! He cut off his hair so he could dump you?"
"Shut up."
"That's a total chick move, Joel."
"Whatever." Joel shrugged.
Mark hummed thoughtfully, playing a little with Joel's hair. "Ok, so. I don't know the guy or anything, but... you want my candid opinion? He didn't act like you were just a fuckbuddy, Joel."
"No... I don't know. I'm all confused. See ok, there's another thing."
Mark raised his eyebrows a little and prodded Joel in the shoulder.
"And?"
"Ok, so. At Thanksgiving?" Joel examined his fingernails. "At Thanksgiving, I ran into him in the 7-11 and wewentbacktohisplaceandhadsex."
"Ooooh!"
"And then you know, I was like kicking myself, because hello Lifetime movie, and I'm the dumbass. And so I left, and the next day like, his friend came over to my house... and he told me this story about him..."
"Talk, Joel. Don't make me hurt you."
"Shut up. His friend Tim - did you see him at the bar? He was the one who came in later and he was talking to Asshole when we left, with the plaid pants."
"Um. Maybe. He wore plaid pants? In public? Anyway, not important - what did he tell you?"
Joel sighed. "He told me this story about Benji. Apparently his sister like, she was supposed to go to UVA on scholarship, but she turned it down to stay home and take care of Benji. She went to community college and then later she dropped out of school and got involved with this jerk and that guy like, killed her."
"Oh, shit."
"Yeah, it was like, it was all this heavy shit, you know? Like I can kind of understand a little why Benji went ballistic when he found out I wanted to stay home and go to community college. That's what Tim was saying, like that Benji... he would never let someone not go to school for him again."
"Wait. You were going to bail on NYU and stay home? Are you crazy? And you told Benji? You told him that you weren't going to go away to school and he was upset?"
"Well, I didn't... I didn't exactly tell him." Joel's voice trailed off. "He tore my room apart till he found my college acceptance letters."
Mark sat up, pushing Joel's head onto the bed. He looked down at Joel. "So let me get this straight - you told Benji you were staying home, and he freaked out and looked for your college acceptance letters, and then when he found them... he dumped you?"
"Yeah. Pretty much."
"Joel. That boy's in love with you."
Joel scrambled backwards on the bed, pulling himself into a sitting position.
"What?"
"He loves you. Idiot. If he didn't care about you, why would he care what you did with your future?"
"Mark, no. You don't... what he said to me, Mark. You don't say that."
"Well, maybe he didn't handle it very well, or something, but yeah. I think he loves you, and he was trying to... do the right thing for you. Admit it, that's pretty fucked up about his sister."
"If that was the reason, why didn't he just tell me that?"
Mark looked over at Joel's face, the naked pain written on his features. Joel was so... open. He had this innocent quality to him that was one of his best things, one of Mark's favorite things about him. He didn't ever want to see Joel lose that. But it was hard to see the pain that openness was causing him right now.
"Joel, how often do you think Benji talks about his feelings?" Mark asked. "I don't think his crowd is big on self-actualization."
Joel looked down at his knees. "Maybe you're right. But. I don't understand why... why he didn't just tell me the truth."
"I don't know either. But... I still think he's in love with you. You should talk to him."
"I... I can't."
"Joel, if you're going to be a goth, we need to get you a new wardrobe."
"Huh?" Joel looked up at Mark, confused.
"You've been moping around ever since we came back to school, and by the way, it's really unattractive. If you're going to be this depressing, you should at least accessorize properly."
Joel scowled at Mark and looked back down at his magazine. He was not moping. OK, maybe a little.
"Why didn't you go see him before you left?" Mark continued relentlessly.
"Shut up."
"No, seriously, you had a week, you should have called him up, why didn't you try to talk to him?"
"I DON'T KNOW." Joel moaned, scooting down on his bed so that he was lying down. "Leave me alone, Mark." Joel said, covering his face with the magazine.
"You're impossible. Also, we're going out tonight. I won't take no for an answer!"
Joel groaned into the pages of GQ.
***
Joel and Mark went bar-hopping in the East Village; Mark dragged him into all the little dives he knew and they stayed for a couple drinks and then wandered on. Mark was searching for "atmosphere" but apparently not finding what he wanted. Joel drank enough to get a little buzz going, but not so much that he got drunk. He'd been thinking about Mark's words all night, about trying to talk to Benji. Maybe... maybe he was being too stubborn, or... whatever he was. If he was really honest with himself, he was just truly, desperately afraid that Benji would say he didn't really want to be with him after all. But maybe Mark was right. He should just call Benji, just see what he had to say. Maybe they could see each other over spring break.
Joel left Mark at Starlight, where he'd found a cute boy ("Joel, meet Frank - isn't he luscious?") to mack on, and made his way back to the dorms. He walked the fifteen blocks with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down against the icy wind. He'd been drinking up some courage in all those dive bars and when he got back to his room, Joel sat down on his bed and picked up the phone. He stared at the number pad for a few minutes and then he dialed, pushing the numbers in slowly.
It rang once and Joel hung up quickly, taking a deep breath. What if Benji wasn't home? What if he was? No. No. He could do this. He was going to do this. Right now. He hit redial.
The phone rang once again, and then went to a recorded message.
We're sorry. The number you have dialed has been temporarily disconnected or is out of service. Please check the number and dial again. We're sorry. The number you have dialed..."
Joel looked down at the phone. Disconnected? He hung up and dialed the number again, checking each number carefully.
We're sorry. The number you have dialed --
Joel ended the call, frustrated. He finally worked up the courage to call Benji and the fucking phone was broken.
***
The next night Joel tried calling Benji again, after 9 o'clock when he should definitely be home. He got the same disconnected message. Joel felt like throwing the phone out the window. Maybe this was a sign. He lay back on his bed and sighed. He had a Biology test tomorrow that he hadn't studied for. He rolled over and picked his book up off the floor, and tried to concentrate on chapter 18.
Joel tried calling Benji a couple more times over the course of the following week, with no success. He was sitting at his desk, staring at his phone in frustration when he had a sudden brainwave. Joel stood up, nearly tipping his chair over and raced to his closet, pulling out his old cords. Which pants had he been wearing? He started frantically checking the pockets on all of his clothes.
"You okay there, buddy?" Brad asked uncertainly. As a roommate, Joel wasn't given to sudden fits of closet emptying, but that's what he was doing right now, literally throwing the clothes out of his closet in his haste.
"Yeah, I'm just looking for someth--A-HA!"
Joel backed out of his closet, smiling triumphantly, holding a scrap of paper.
"You just remembered that you got someone's phone number?"
"Um, sort of." Joel flashed him a grin.
Brad shook his head and went back to his macroeconomics text.
Joel quickly dialed the number and prayed that someone would answer. After three long, agonizing rings, his prayers were answered.
"Hello?"
"Tim!"
"Yeah?"
"Hi, um." Joel's breath caught in his throat suddenly.
"Hello?"
"It's Joel. Combs." he blurted out.
"Oh, hey Joel. S'up, man?"
Joel could hear loud raucous music in the background and Tim sounded a little distracted.
"Hey, how are you. Is this a bad time?"
"No man, it's cool."
Joel hemmed and hawed for a few seconds, trying to figure out what he was trying to say and then finally settled on just being straightforward.
"Listen, I hate to bother you, but um, I'm trying to get in touch with Benji. And his phone's been disconnected for a week. Do you.. Is everything ok?"
"Oh! Oh yeah, everything's cool man. That number isn't working anymore."
"Do you have a new one for him?"
Tim's voice was apologetic, "Sorry man, I don't have a number for him right now. But I can tell him you're looking for him, next time I talk to him, if you want."
"Oh." Joel was suddenly deflated. "Um, sure. I guess. No, y'know what, nevermind. Thank you anyway though."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Joel sat silently for a few minutes, rubbing his finger over one corner of his abandoned textbook. Another dead end. He had been so sure that calling Tim would solve all his problems. A soft throat-clearing interrupted his thoughts.
"Well, it was good talking to you," Tim said.
"Oh! Yeah, I'm so sorry. Thanks man, I appreciate it. Take care, ok?" Joel said his goodbyes and hung up, blushing faintly.
He placed the telephone carefully back on the cradle and slumped down over his desk, staring blankly at the title of his book. BIOLOGY. Not very creative, really. Somehow man had made it to the top of the food chain but hadn't managed to work out the kinks in communication.
***
"He's fine, you know."
"No, I don't know. And neither do you."
Asshole scowled at Tim and sat down on the ugly plaid couch that was shoved up against the wall in Tim's living room.
Tim was chain-smoking and drinking orange juice out of a coffee mug. Asshole used the edge of the coffee table to remove his beer cap and took a swig. Tim paced back and forth through the room a couple more times before throwing himself down on the couch next to Asshole.
"OK, so I'm maybe worrying a little too much."
"Oh, maybe? You think, possibly?"
"Shut up."
Asshole chuckled a little and draped his arm over the back of the couch, resting it lightly on Tim's shoulders.
"Relax. Why don't you play me in Crazy Eights? You still sore over how I whupped your ass last time?"
"Oh, it's on."
Asshole laughed, a deep belly laugh that shook his chest and filled the room with noise.
***
Joel got on the crosstown bus going west and made his way to the back. At mid-morning, the bus was only about half full. He sat down in one of the two-seaters and slid over to the window seat, staring moodily out at the cool grey sky. It was February, the middle of February already, and he hadn't been able to get in touch with Benji at all. He'd called Tim again after a week, but he'd only gotten the answering machine, and he'd been too embarrassed to leave a message. How pathetic was he now, stalking his ex-boyfriend? He was trying to concentrate on his schoolwork, trying to make the grade, but it was hard. Mid-terms would be coming up soon and Joel sighed, staring out at the cold rain splattering against the windows.
The bus stopped again, and someone sat down next to him. He smelled like Benji's cologne and Joel closed his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly so he wouldn't start crying on the city bus and humiliate himself. How could it still affect him like this? The guy was sitting right up in his space too, not leaving that standard one inch of space that everyone knows you're supposed to leave. Joel leaned his head against the window, the cool glass on his forehead calming him slightly.
He felt an arm move to rest across the back of the seat and now Joel was really irritated. Did this jerk think it was his living room? Jesus. He couldn't believe such an asshole was wearing Benji's cologne. It was like a sacrilege. Joel sat up a little straighter, edging away.
"The bus isn't bad, but I'd rather drive your car."
Joel's eyes flew open and he looked over.
Sitting next to him, wearing a leather jacket and a wolfish grin, was Benji.
Joel stared at him for a few moments, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Benji reached out and curled his hand around Joel's cheek, his fingers cold and a little rough.
"Hi, kid."
Joel blinked and snapping back into life, he broke into a wide smile and threw his arms around Benji's neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest, beating against the bones of his ribcage like a trapped bird as the rush of adrenaline surged over him. Benji was there, sitting next to him on the bus.
"Hi," he whispered.
"I missed you."
"Oh Benji." Joel pulled back a little to look into his eyes and then leaned in to press his lips against Benji's, "I missed you too." He closed his eyes and Benji sucked lightly on his lower lip, drawing him into a long, sweet kiss.
Rating: R
Pairing: Benji/Joel
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: This is AU. Mechanic!Benji meets Schoolboy!Joel. with apologies to Blondie, and thanks to zyre for rocking the Beta Phi House. Also with many apologies for the long wait - my life got in the way.
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |
It's good to hear your voice, you know it's been so long
If I don't get your call then everything goes wrong
I want to tell you something you've known all along
Don't leave me hanging on the telephone
*
Two weeks later the buzz of the tattoo needle filled Benji's ears, the white noise washing over him as he zoned out. The pain was hitting that threshold where the red glaze swam behind his eyes and it almost turned into euphoria if you let it. Endorphin rush. Some guys got hard over it, but Benji wasn't one of them; he just zoned out, blissed out sometimes, hitting that plateau where his mind drifted outside his body. Asshole was filling in the design on his chest, going through the different colors and applying them section by section. His careful, even fill work was one of the hallmarks of his artistry. He wiped carefully at the excess fluids as he worked, and finally he sat back, swiping his arm over his forehead.
"It's done."
Benji looked down at his latest tattoo, resisting the urge to run his fingers over it.
"Perfect."
Asshole smiled at him, a rare sweet smile, not a smirk or a grin. Benji leaned in, wrapping his right arm around Asshole's shoulders, pressing their foreheads together, careful to keep his new tattoo out of range.
"Thank you."
Asshole squeezed him carefully and sat back a little to look Benji in the eye. "You know I would do anything. Anything for you. Right?"
"I know," Benji smiled.
"OK then." Asshole finished up and taped some plastic over the tattoo and Benji shrugged back into his shirt, buttoning it back up gingerly.
He stood up, looking around the shop briefly as he pulled on his coat, shoving his arms into the sleeves, and turned back to Asshole, pulling him into a tight hug. Asshole patted Benji's shoulder a little awkwardly.
"Benji?" he questioned softly.
"Yeah. It's nothing, man. It's all good. Thank you. For everything." Benji backed up, flashing a smile at Asshole's confused face and turning to exit the shop.
***
Joel and Mark lay perpendicular on Joel's bed, Joel resting his head on Mark's stomach as he read a magazine, one ankle crossed over his opposite knee. He reached out and flicked his fingers through Joel's shaggy black hair.
"You should cut this mop, Joel. You look so prep-school-boy-gone-bad."
Joel snorted.
Mark grinned. It was true. Joel's hair was getting so long it was starting to curl over his collar; it was thick and a little wavy. Mark carded his fingers through it loosely. Joel sighed and let the magazine drop to his chest, closing his eyes.
"You're still thinking about Benji," Mark said softly.
Joel nodded.
"This is... ok, this is retarded," Joel said, "But. He grew his hair out for me once." He grinned. "It was funny. He looked so hot with long hair. And he hated it too, he was always shoving out of his eyes."
"It didn't look that long when we saw him."
Joel sighed. "He shaved it off when he dumped me. He got a mohawk. I guess it must've been right before he came to see me, because it wasn't like that the day before."
"That's so girly."
"What?!"
"It IS! He cut off his hair so he could dump you?"
"Shut up."
"That's a total chick move, Joel."
"Whatever." Joel shrugged.
Mark hummed thoughtfully, playing a little with Joel's hair. "Ok, so. I don't know the guy or anything, but... you want my candid opinion? He didn't act like you were just a fuckbuddy, Joel."
"No... I don't know. I'm all confused. See ok, there's another thing."
Mark raised his eyebrows a little and prodded Joel in the shoulder.
"And?"
"Ok, so. At Thanksgiving?" Joel examined his fingernails. "At Thanksgiving, I ran into him in the 7-11 and wewentbacktohisplaceandhadsex."
"Ooooh!"
"And then you know, I was like kicking myself, because hello Lifetime movie, and I'm the dumbass. And so I left, and the next day like, his friend came over to my house... and he told me this story about him..."
"Talk, Joel. Don't make me hurt you."
"Shut up. His friend Tim - did you see him at the bar? He was the one who came in later and he was talking to Asshole when we left, with the plaid pants."
"Um. Maybe. He wore plaid pants? In public? Anyway, not important - what did he tell you?"
Joel sighed. "He told me this story about Benji. Apparently his sister like, she was supposed to go to UVA on scholarship, but she turned it down to stay home and take care of Benji. She went to community college and then later she dropped out of school and got involved with this jerk and that guy like, killed her."
"Oh, shit."
"Yeah, it was like, it was all this heavy shit, you know? Like I can kind of understand a little why Benji went ballistic when he found out I wanted to stay home and go to community college. That's what Tim was saying, like that Benji... he would never let someone not go to school for him again."
"Wait. You were going to bail on NYU and stay home? Are you crazy? And you told Benji? You told him that you weren't going to go away to school and he was upset?"
"Well, I didn't... I didn't exactly tell him." Joel's voice trailed off. "He tore my room apart till he found my college acceptance letters."
Mark sat up, pushing Joel's head onto the bed. He looked down at Joel. "So let me get this straight - you told Benji you were staying home, and he freaked out and looked for your college acceptance letters, and then when he found them... he dumped you?"
"Yeah. Pretty much."
"Joel. That boy's in love with you."
Joel scrambled backwards on the bed, pulling himself into a sitting position.
"What?"
"He loves you. Idiot. If he didn't care about you, why would he care what you did with your future?"
"Mark, no. You don't... what he said to me, Mark. You don't say that."
"Well, maybe he didn't handle it very well, or something, but yeah. I think he loves you, and he was trying to... do the right thing for you. Admit it, that's pretty fucked up about his sister."
"If that was the reason, why didn't he just tell me that?"
Mark looked over at Joel's face, the naked pain written on his features. Joel was so... open. He had this innocent quality to him that was one of his best things, one of Mark's favorite things about him. He didn't ever want to see Joel lose that. But it was hard to see the pain that openness was causing him right now.
"Joel, how often do you think Benji talks about his feelings?" Mark asked. "I don't think his crowd is big on self-actualization."
Joel looked down at his knees. "Maybe you're right. But. I don't understand why... why he didn't just tell me the truth."
"I don't know either. But... I still think he's in love with you. You should talk to him."
"I... I can't."
"Joel, if you're going to be a goth, we need to get you a new wardrobe."
"Huh?" Joel looked up at Mark, confused.
"You've been moping around ever since we came back to school, and by the way, it's really unattractive. If you're going to be this depressing, you should at least accessorize properly."
Joel scowled at Mark and looked back down at his magazine. He was not moping. OK, maybe a little.
"Why didn't you go see him before you left?" Mark continued relentlessly.
"Shut up."
"No, seriously, you had a week, you should have called him up, why didn't you try to talk to him?"
"I DON'T KNOW." Joel moaned, scooting down on his bed so that he was lying down. "Leave me alone, Mark." Joel said, covering his face with the magazine.
"You're impossible. Also, we're going out tonight. I won't take no for an answer!"
Joel groaned into the pages of GQ.
***
Joel and Mark went bar-hopping in the East Village; Mark dragged him into all the little dives he knew and they stayed for a couple drinks and then wandered on. Mark was searching for "atmosphere" but apparently not finding what he wanted. Joel drank enough to get a little buzz going, but not so much that he got drunk. He'd been thinking about Mark's words all night, about trying to talk to Benji. Maybe... maybe he was being too stubborn, or... whatever he was. If he was really honest with himself, he was just truly, desperately afraid that Benji would say he didn't really want to be with him after all. But maybe Mark was right. He should just call Benji, just see what he had to say. Maybe they could see each other over spring break.
Joel left Mark at Starlight, where he'd found a cute boy ("Joel, meet Frank - isn't he luscious?") to mack on, and made his way back to the dorms. He walked the fifteen blocks with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down against the icy wind. He'd been drinking up some courage in all those dive bars and when he got back to his room, Joel sat down on his bed and picked up the phone. He stared at the number pad for a few minutes and then he dialed, pushing the numbers in slowly.
It rang once and Joel hung up quickly, taking a deep breath. What if Benji wasn't home? What if he was? No. No. He could do this. He was going to do this. Right now. He hit redial.
The phone rang once again, and then went to a recorded message.
We're sorry. The number you have dialed has been temporarily disconnected or is out of service. Please check the number and dial again. We're sorry. The number you have dialed..."
Joel looked down at the phone. Disconnected? He hung up and dialed the number again, checking each number carefully.
We're sorry. The number you have dialed --
Joel ended the call, frustrated. He finally worked up the courage to call Benji and the fucking phone was broken.
***
The next night Joel tried calling Benji again, after 9 o'clock when he should definitely be home. He got the same disconnected message. Joel felt like throwing the phone out the window. Maybe this was a sign. He lay back on his bed and sighed. He had a Biology test tomorrow that he hadn't studied for. He rolled over and picked his book up off the floor, and tried to concentrate on chapter 18.
Joel tried calling Benji a couple more times over the course of the following week, with no success. He was sitting at his desk, staring at his phone in frustration when he had a sudden brainwave. Joel stood up, nearly tipping his chair over and raced to his closet, pulling out his old cords. Which pants had he been wearing? He started frantically checking the pockets on all of his clothes.
"You okay there, buddy?" Brad asked uncertainly. As a roommate, Joel wasn't given to sudden fits of closet emptying, but that's what he was doing right now, literally throwing the clothes out of his closet in his haste.
"Yeah, I'm just looking for someth--A-HA!"
Joel backed out of his closet, smiling triumphantly, holding a scrap of paper.
"You just remembered that you got someone's phone number?"
"Um, sort of." Joel flashed him a grin.
Brad shook his head and went back to his macroeconomics text.
Joel quickly dialed the number and prayed that someone would answer. After three long, agonizing rings, his prayers were answered.
"Hello?"
"Tim!"
"Yeah?"
"Hi, um." Joel's breath caught in his throat suddenly.
"Hello?"
"It's Joel. Combs." he blurted out.
"Oh, hey Joel. S'up, man?"
Joel could hear loud raucous music in the background and Tim sounded a little distracted.
"Hey, how are you. Is this a bad time?"
"No man, it's cool."
Joel hemmed and hawed for a few seconds, trying to figure out what he was trying to say and then finally settled on just being straightforward.
"Listen, I hate to bother you, but um, I'm trying to get in touch with Benji. And his phone's been disconnected for a week. Do you.. Is everything ok?"
"Oh! Oh yeah, everything's cool man. That number isn't working anymore."
"Do you have a new one for him?"
Tim's voice was apologetic, "Sorry man, I don't have a number for him right now. But I can tell him you're looking for him, next time I talk to him, if you want."
"Oh." Joel was suddenly deflated. "Um, sure. I guess. No, y'know what, nevermind. Thank you anyway though."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Joel sat silently for a few minutes, rubbing his finger over one corner of his abandoned textbook. Another dead end. He had been so sure that calling Tim would solve all his problems. A soft throat-clearing interrupted his thoughts.
"Well, it was good talking to you," Tim said.
"Oh! Yeah, I'm so sorry. Thanks man, I appreciate it. Take care, ok?" Joel said his goodbyes and hung up, blushing faintly.
He placed the telephone carefully back on the cradle and slumped down over his desk, staring blankly at the title of his book. BIOLOGY. Not very creative, really. Somehow man had made it to the top of the food chain but hadn't managed to work out the kinks in communication.
***
"He's fine, you know."
"No, I don't know. And neither do you."
Asshole scowled at Tim and sat down on the ugly plaid couch that was shoved up against the wall in Tim's living room.
Tim was chain-smoking and drinking orange juice out of a coffee mug. Asshole used the edge of the coffee table to remove his beer cap and took a swig. Tim paced back and forth through the room a couple more times before throwing himself down on the couch next to Asshole.
"OK, so I'm maybe worrying a little too much."
"Oh, maybe? You think, possibly?"
"Shut up."
Asshole chuckled a little and draped his arm over the back of the couch, resting it lightly on Tim's shoulders.
"Relax. Why don't you play me in Crazy Eights? You still sore over how I whupped your ass last time?"
"Oh, it's on."
Asshole laughed, a deep belly laugh that shook his chest and filled the room with noise.
***
Joel got on the crosstown bus going west and made his way to the back. At mid-morning, the bus was only about half full. He sat down in one of the two-seaters and slid over to the window seat, staring moodily out at the cool grey sky. It was February, the middle of February already, and he hadn't been able to get in touch with Benji at all. He'd called Tim again after a week, but he'd only gotten the answering machine, and he'd been too embarrassed to leave a message. How pathetic was he now, stalking his ex-boyfriend? He was trying to concentrate on his schoolwork, trying to make the grade, but it was hard. Mid-terms would be coming up soon and Joel sighed, staring out at the cold rain splattering against the windows.
The bus stopped again, and someone sat down next to him. He smelled like Benji's cologne and Joel closed his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly so he wouldn't start crying on the city bus and humiliate himself. How could it still affect him like this? The guy was sitting right up in his space too, not leaving that standard one inch of space that everyone knows you're supposed to leave. Joel leaned his head against the window, the cool glass on his forehead calming him slightly.
He felt an arm move to rest across the back of the seat and now Joel was really irritated. Did this jerk think it was his living room? Jesus. He couldn't believe such an asshole was wearing Benji's cologne. It was like a sacrilege. Joel sat up a little straighter, edging away.
"The bus isn't bad, but I'd rather drive your car."
Joel's eyes flew open and he looked over.
Sitting next to him, wearing a leather jacket and a wolfish grin, was Benji.
Joel stared at him for a few moments, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Benji reached out and curled his hand around Joel's cheek, his fingers cold and a little rough.
"Hi, kid."
Joel blinked and snapping back into life, he broke into a wide smile and threw his arms around Benji's neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest, beating against the bones of his ribcage like a trapped bird as the rush of adrenaline surged over him. Benji was there, sitting next to him on the bus.
"Hi," he whispered.
"I missed you."
"Oh Benji." Joel pulled back a little to look into his eyes and then leaned in to press his lips against Benji's, "I missed you too." He closed his eyes and Benji sucked lightly on his lower lip, drawing him into a long, sweet kiss.