hate is a strong word (bxb)

29

Scar Washington had gotten into Ben's head. He had crawled his way in there with his stupid words and by no means would he leave.

Ben couldn't even blame Scar, either. After all, Scar hadn't meant to say anything to get Ben thinking, yet Ben still couldn't manage to stop thinking about everything that Scar had said. Scar was practically a complete outsider to the situation. He had knowledge of what was going on, but he didn't fully understand the nature of their relationship. Yet, somehow, Scar's words seemed to have a big impact on Ben. He was an outsider, yes, but he still thought that there was even the slightest chance that Braxton could feel something for Ben, and just the idea of that filled Ben's brain with confusion.

There was something seriously off about Braxton. He was no longer trying to annoy Ben, and it was really pissing off Ben. Of course, Ben didn't miss the (rather irritating) antics. No, he couldn't have. He just, well, he felt weird. The lack of attention was seriously getting under his skin.

It wasn't as if things had changed in a drastic way. He hadn't given him the full silent treatment—but he sure was quieter. It was like he had lost interest in trying to annoy Ben. Had he really lost interest, Ben wondered.

Throughout the course of the entire day, Braxton had just been too quiet. He joked around still, but that was only at lunch. He wasn't joking around with Ben, so he determined that Braxton had to have an issue with him.

He considered confronting him during first period, but he wanted to wait and give it some time. Then, he wanted to confront him in lunch but figured that it would be awkward to ask him what was going on in front of everyone. So, he decided that the best time to ask him would be at the very end of the day when they got off the bus—and that he did.

Right as the bus had pulled away and was out of sight, Ben felt an impulse that he couldn't really explain. Rarely was Ben ever someone to act on impulse, but something changed within him as he yelled out to Braxton. And in hindsight, Ben definitely could've been less harsh with his words, but he wasn't thinking as he called out to say, "what the fuck is your problem?"

Braxton didn't seem too offended by his words, if anything, he just seemed a little taken back. Certainly, he hadn't been expecting it. "What do you mean what's my problem?" he questioned, almost defensively.

Ben took a step closer to Braxton so that the entire neighborhood wouldn't have to hear what they were yelling about, "it's like you've been avoiding me. You don't pay any attention to me in school anymore."

Ben was letting himself speak without thinking, and he found himself almost shocked by his own words. Was he actually upset that Braxton of all people had stopped paying attention to him? He didn't even like receiving attention from most people to begin with, let alone Braxton?

"What do you mean?" Braxton questioned.

Even that very response seemed unnatural to Ben. Clearly, something was up. The normal Braxton would have responded with some kind of a joke.

"It's like you've been ignoring me," Ben elaborates.

"No I haven't," he claimed.

"Bullshit."

"I'm sorry, I just can't keep doing this with you," Braxton admitted, "you know, hooking up."

Ben felt his heart drop just a little bit. It was a weird response, really—and one that he couldn't figure out. It felt like he had just been broken up with; the only issue was that they weren't dating so this wasn't a break-up.

"If you don't want to have sex with me, you don't have to," Ben argued, "I just—I just thought that we were both on the same page."

There was something in Braxton that made him snap in that moment. A rage filled his eyes, and Ben had never seen anything like it before. It was as if his eyes had completely darkened with anger. "Clearly we weren't," his voice shook.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I like you," he admitted, "or liked you, or, I don't know. You confuse me."

Ben had so much adrenaline coursing through him that the words didn't even shock him, nor did they even fully set in. It was like all instincts had just kicked in and Ben was no longer thinking as he responded, "then don't be stupid; just ask me out."

"Will you—what? Will you go out with me?"

"Yes, you dummy idiot."

"Dummy idiot?" Braxton questioned.

"Shut up," Ben laughed a soft laugh—almost a giggle. He would have felt embarrassed by it, but he couldn't bother right now.

In fact, he almost felt invulnerable at that moment; he felt as if the world around him had ceased to exist and it was only him and Braxton. The normal Benjamin Adams cared about keeping things hidden but he decided that this was a moment where he would break the streak of caring too much. He didn't worry about the fact that he was outside his house, where his father might see him, and he didn't worry about whether or not his neighbors could see him, either. He simply reached out to Braxton's neck, pulling him in close for a kiss.

They kiss in a hungry way; it's in a way that they've never truly kissed before. In that moment, Benjamin realizes that this is what a kiss truly is: it's the kind with actual passion, rather than just plain lust. It's different, somehow. And Benjamin can't help but think about how insane it is that just a few words can change the meaning of a kiss.

They're both giddy—and it's cheesy, so cheesy that it almost disgusts Ben. It's like it's too happy for it to be them. Ben swears that he can even feel Braxton smiling into the kiss, and he can even feel his own mouth forming into a smile.

Ben pulls away, almost breathless, "you know, I never took you to be such a sensitive soft boy. It doesn't match your branding, I don't think. Ignoring me because you have a little crush on me?"

"Fuck you," Braxton responds, "I'm not sensitive."

"Yeah, ok," Ben smiles.

"Your mom didn't call me sensitive when we—"

"I take it back," Ben cuts him off, "let's break up. This was a horrible mistake."

"Too late," is his response, "no take-backs."

"We'll see about that," Ben fakes a grumble, "I have to go. I'll, uh, I'll see you later?" Saying goodbye felt weird and awkward after something as big as that happened, but he truly did have to get home.

"I'll see you," Braxton smiled.

Ben couldn't help it when he got inside; he did a stupid little "victory" dance. He just couldn't contain himself.

Feeling that he had to say this to someone, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Scar, saying, "we're dating now."

Almost immediately, he gets a text back that says, "I DON'T THINK WE ARE. AS MUCH AS I'M FLATTERED I'M NOT GAY."

"NOT YOU. NOT YOU. ME AND BRAXTON."

"OH," Scar responds, "rest in peace </3 jk I'm... happy for you? Also, uh, confused? Details?"

"I'll tell you the next time I see you."

Ben had almost forgotten where he was and had only snapped back to reality as his dad came around the corner. Mr. Adams looked at him, almost skeptically, before asking, "the hell you look so happy for?"

If only he knew, Ben thought.

Ben hated how serious his father always seemed. It was like he was always forcing himself to seem stoic. The only real emotion he ever saw come from his father was anger. Besides that, he always just seemed so serious. Ben figured that, upon many other things, that was the main reason that they had never formed a real relationship. 

The nature of their relationship was weird. It felt more like they were roommates than family. They didn't interact very much, and when they did, the interactions didn't seem very personal. It was usually things like "have you seen the remote?" Or, sometimes, the interactions would consist of Mr. Adams pretending that he cared about Ben by trying to boss him around. ("Be home by this time, do this, don't do that.") 

But right now, Ben wasn't going to let any of that bother him.

"Nothing," Ben answered before disappearing up to his room, still just as happy.