benji watches happily as the beautiful vanilla boy blushes furiously under his gaze. somehow, his blush painted so frequently over his cheeks gives him hope that somehow he feels the butterflies too.
benji scratches the back of his head, slightly off-put. he wasn't expecting to rub into the boy, and just the soft touch of his head against his chest is enough to make him implode.
he doesn't know what he's feeling, but he knows that he's more than okay with it.
jey clears his throat, jolting benji from his thoughts.
"so- a-about l-lunch? s-sorry, i didn't mean to r-run into y-"
benji smiles and shakes his head, cutting him off. "it's okay, j. c'mon"
he grins and waves his hand in a gesturing motion as he sprints forward, silently daring jey to follow. he willingly accepts the challenge and laughs as he chases him down the hall, hands reaching out. benji laughs aswell.
by the time they reach the cafe, they're almost wheezing. by the time they make it through the food line, trays in hand, the laughter has barely subsided.
"c'mere," benji says, smiling, "i sit with the football guys."
jey's laughter hitches in a way he prays benji doesn't notice. he can't help but fear what is to come. the football boys, in the short time he's been there, have managed to jeer at him more than anyone did in the last 12 years at his old school. but he supresses his thoughts. benji can't know he's so sensitive.
luckily, benji seems oblivious to his fear as he sits down at a large table, patting the seat next to him. it seems as if everyone is already here, and they take no time getting to know him. they glare at jey, looking him up and down, hungry to leer at him. jey gulps, trying to push out a smile.
benji remains oblivious to the glares for about the first two minutes. but after the moments of menacing silence, benji can't help but look up from his carton of fries as the boy (who appears to be the leader of the pack) blurts "what are you doing here, fag??"
jey gulps as benji's eyes narrow. he stands up, cowering over the still-sitting boy. "i invited him, josh. he's my friend. i would say get over it, but i don't think you'll have to. we're leaving. c'mon, jorge."
he gives benji a weak look as he follows him away from the table, not bothering to look back at the jock table.
