Shades Of Blue

39. Photographs

*WARNING FOR DRUGS, ALCOHOL, AND S & M*

Benjie

February

Age 17

Months went by with Benjie on edge that something would go wrong. To his astonishment things only seemed to get better. Benjie and Neel were a couple, together longer than most teens their age. Neel didn't stray, Benjie didn't implode with self-hatred, and they were somehow able to keep Mr. Archer from finding out. No one seemed to care at school. If they did, they kept their opinions to themselves. Moira hated them, but that was to be expected. Benjie wasn't sure he could trust the pleasantness, so he readied himself for the rug to be pulled from beneath him

"Found it!" Benjie proclaimed as he pulled a heavy box from the stack lining the wall. He set it down on the concrete basement floor and pulled open the cardboard flaps. "There it is," he said as he stood up with a framed photograph taken from a box of old trophies.

Letting out a small chortle, Benjie grinned at Neel. "I think it's hitting me now."

Judging by the blissful smile on his face, the pills they had taken were beginning to hit Neel as well.

Benjie glanced around the storage room in the basement. The room across the hall was the wine cellar. Sitting on a box by the door was an old Polaroid camera. He snatched it up and wiped the dust away with his fingers. Walking back over with both the photograph and the camera, he gave Neel a hug from behind. He placed sloppy kisses onto his boyfriend's neck before holding up the camera. "Smile." He kissed Neel's cheek and pressed the button, squinting against the flash.

"Take another one, I blinked," Neel requested.

Benjie pressed his lips to Neel's cheek and took another photo. When the camera spit out the picture, Neel grabbed it and began to wave it in the air until it was developed.

"I'm keeping this," he declared.

Resting his chin on Neel's shoulder, Benjie held up the framed team photo he had taken from the box of trophies. He gave Neel the camera so he could point at the photo. "Look how short you were," he teased as his finger rested on Neel adorned in his baseball uniform and his arm in a sling.

Neel's index finger rested on an 11-year-old Benjie's bright face. "I don't remember you ever looking that happy."

"I was," Benjie told him. "Best summer of my life."

"So far," Neel added.

Benjie kissed his neck. "Yeah, so far."

Neel held up the camera and took a few more shots until Benjie grabbed it and set it, along with the framed team photo onto one of the boxes. He wrapped his arms around Neel's midsection then, without warning, began to tickle his sides. Neel quickly spun around for retaliation and tickled Benjie's stomach.

Benjie squirmed and giggled until he'd had enough. Gripping his lover's wrists, Benjie brought their mouths together. When his tongue met with Neel's, Benjie let go of his wrists and slipped his rough hands under Neel's shirt to run his stubby nails down his back, always guaranteed to make Neel excited.

His fingers gripped Benjie's wild hair before he hurriedly pulled Benjie's grey t-shirt off and removed his own sweater.

Neel's skin tasted of salt as Benjie kissed and gently bit his neck.

"Harder," Neel requested in a whisper.

In response, Benjie slammed Neel against the boxes. His teeth dug into Neel's neck, while his nails scratched as deep into the flesh of his back. When he pulled away to kiss his lips, Neel took Benjie's hand and put it to his throat. Hesitantly, Benjie kissed him while gently holding his neck. Don't hurt him, he thought.

"Harder," Neel said over and over in between kisses. "I told you it's okay. I like it."

Unsure of himself, Benjie removed his hand from his partner's throat and opted to bite him again instead. He wasn't quite ready for consensual choking. Neel let out a sharp breath when Benjie pressed his teeth into his neck. His mouth quickly tasted of pennies, so he pulled away to assess the damage. "I broke the skin."

Neel touched the teeth marks, then examined the weak smear of blood on his fingers. "Feels like a cat scratch."

"You're gonna have bruises again," Benjie pointed out. "Your parents are gonna think I beat you." What the Jones' thought was especially important to Benjie. They had reacted to his and Neel's relationship in the best way, claiming they had always hoped Neel would find someone he loved as much as Benjie. They treated him like a son-in-law. Family.

Benjie, on the other hand, hadn't come out to either of his parents. He didn't see why he needed to. It was none of their business and it would only make them hate him more. Best to leave it and let them figure it out for themselves as he got older. He had, however, told his sister, and was openly bisexual if anyone asked.

Neel shrugged, not caring about any cuts or bruises. He kind of liked when Benjie left his mark. "Can I show you what I want?"

Benjie was still hesitant but nodded his head anyway. Taking in a deep breath, he let Neel turn them and push him against the boxes. Neel gripped his boyfriend's neck and began to squeeze and kiss his lips.

"I just want it a little rough sometimes," he tried to explain.

As Neel's hand tightened around his neck, Benjie's breathing grew rapid, his heart pounding at an alarming rate. He grabbed Neel's wrist, his hand trembling. "Don't," was all he could force out before he stepped around Neel and distanced himself. It must have been the pills. Benjie paced the room, spiraling into horrible thoughts and memories.

"What happened?"

Benjie grabbed the photo and tossed it into the trophy box. "Let's go," he said as he gathered the scattered photographs from the floor and fetched the old camera.

"Benj?"

"I'm having a bad trip," Benjie snapped at him, swallowing at a lump in his throat as his chest grew more constricted. "I'm going back upstairs." Going ahead as Neel stood confused by the boxes, Benjie ascended the staircase.

A minute later, Neel found Benjie at the round kitchen table. Next to him was an open beer while he rolled a fat joint.

"We need more papers," Benjie said more to himself than Neel. "I have a bong upstairs, but the bowl's cracked."

"What just happened in the basement?"

"I guess we could pick some up from the corner store."

Neel furrowed his heavy brow. "Can you stop thinking about weed for a minute?"

Benjie glanced at him, then focused back on the joint he was rolling with what must have been the last rolling paper.

Neel took a seat across the table from him, resting his elbows on the table's surface. He was transfixed on Benjie, his dark eyes spilling over with concern.

Benjie ran his fat tongue along the glue strip of the rolling paper then spun it all into a neat joint. His facial expression was full of warmth as he passed the joint to Neel so he could light it. "I'm fine."

"If you're uncomfortable, we don't have to do that kind of stuff," Neel claimed.

"You want it, though," Benjie replied, unwilling to share the memories that had flashed into his mind when Neel was choking him. Neel didn't need to know how bad things had gotten in this house. The black eyes and cuts were enough. Benjie could already see the pity that tainted Neel's view of him. There was no need to make it worse.