hate is a strong word (bxb)

22

That same night, Ben finds it hard to fall asleep. He can't get the thought of his father out of his head. He was so close to busting them, that night. Had Benjamin not heard the door quietly creaking open, he would've walked right into the kitchen to see the two boys together in such an intimate way. The thought of that made him recoil. It would've been a whole world of awkward, and though Ben was in no danger of being kicked out of the house, he could just imagine how disappointed his father would be in him. 

He thinks of his mother. Most of his memories of her were from when he was somewhere around eleven years old or younger, but they were all so vivid. She was somewhat of a kind woman—certainly, she was kinder than his father was. He missed the closeness of having someone like her in the family. When she was around, things were normal. He had his mother and his father, and they were a family. But once she passed, his father became awfully distant.

She was diagnosed with cancer when Ben was only ten, and they knew from the beginning that it was unlikely that she was going to survive it. It was hard living with her when Ben knew all she was doing was dying.

Ben knew that his father was disappointed in him. His father always seemed disappointed, whether it was because he found out about something that legitimately should've disappointed him or whether he was just disappointed in the fact that Ben was just himself. It didn't matter as much to Ben that his father was disappointed in him, because at least he knew that. What bothered him most was not knowing what his mother would think of him.

He thought, surely, that she wouldn't be proud of him for what he was.

Unsettled at the thought of his late mother, Ben calls Scar, knowing that his best friend was the only person who was able to console him on such a topic. "You know it's almost midnight, right?" Scar questioned as he picked up the phone.

"Well, you're up," Ben drew out.

"You woke me up," Scar pointed out, "I was fast asleep before this, so this better be good."

"Scar, you remember my mother, right?" he cut right to the chase.

"Yes?" he questioned, "why?"

"Do you think that, well, uh... ok, from an outsider perspective, do you think that she would hate me if she were still alive?"

"Um..."

"Sorry, this is so stupid."

"A little bit, yeah," Scar confirmed, "she's your mother, and she would love you if she were still alive. Why shouldn't she?"

The topic of his mother was not one that his brain crossed often. He thought that it was a waste of time to think of the dead, even if the person in question was his own mother. His philosophy was that the dead are dead, and there's nothing that anyone can do about that. He found peace and serenity in this thought process, but the issue with deciding not to think about it at all was the fact that it was completely unrealistic. His brain would have to cross this topic at points in his life, and when it did, he was forced to let everything that built up out. So, here he was, up at midnight, on the phone with his best friend, holding back tears.

"It's just—you know, the whole thing with me being queer? I don't know if she was ok with that kind of thing. I know my father isn't fond of gay people, and I think that people tend to marry people who have similar beliefs to them."

"Why're you thinking about this now?"

"Something happened today," Ben told him, "I don't want to say what happened because it's fucking stupid but something happened and my father almost found out that I'm gay," when the other side goes silent, Ben continues to monologue, "how did you feel when I told you that I was gay? I mean, you knew me for so long and then—"

"Ben, you know I didn't care, right?" he interrupted Ben's babbling, "you're so much more than just gay. That doesn't define who you are, and I don't think that your mother could possibly be disappointed in you."

"Do you really think that?"

"Ben, please go to bed. You sound as uncertain as I always sound—and you're not supposed to sound like that. Please, just go to bed," Scar begged, "you turn into a bitch when you don't sleep."

"I can't fall asleep."

"Just close your eyes," Scar said.

"I think I know how to sleep," Ben rolled his eyes, despite knowing that Scar certainly wouldn't be able to tell.

"Then please do it," Scar audibly yawned, "I really have to sleep."

"I'll try," Ben said, "goodnight."

"G'night," Scar mumbled sleepily before Ben hung up the phone.

A/N i guess lmao: i keep wanting to edit my previous chapters to put them in the third person but instead of editing old ones i just keep writing new ones and i'm kinda mad at myself for it oops. someone force me to edit them LMFAO