Lost & Found

AN: I'm sorry this took so long. I went through a horrendous bout of writer's block with this particular story, on top of school and shit. Bet a bunch of you guys thought I'd abandoned it. Nope!




Jack sat cross-legged on his motel bed, chowing down on Chinese take-out and surfing the web on his laptop. It was Wednesday, nearly a week after he'd first returned to Myrtle and Ben's house. He'd just left for the night only an hour ago, Ben giving him the usual sullen send-off before greeting his grandmother warmly after coming home from his second shift.

Jack always felt like he was the family dog, being kicked outside to spend the night in the doghouse or something. Ben never even smiled at him.

Not that he needed it. After a week of verbal outbursts, constant bickering, and nothing but grief from the tempestuous teen, Jack was sick of him.

...Though maybe not entirely. He was still having the dreams. Where Ben was sweet and hot, and wrapped all around him.

Those were a nice change from relentless hate. Even if they were only fantasy.

And Jack still pitied the boy. His heart ached a little bit every time he saw him suffering. Saw that bleak look in those haunted green eyes, or heard that note of helpless surrender after one of their typical fights. Ben always fought like a demon, defending what he believed to be the right way of living his life, then he'd suddenly just give up. Seemingly unable to put any more effort into sparring with words, and sometimes hands, Ben would collapse into himself and turn into a docile doll. Agreeing with anything Jack suggested and his eyes blank and his voice weary.

Jack didn't like when Ben got like that. He'd rather have the fighting, the spirit, the anger, than no bite at all. It was a little bit thrilling, he could admit. Though, 'Sulking Ben' wasn't all bad. When he gave up like that, it made Jack want to cheer him up. Take that pouty mouth and kiss it all better.

Jack knew he was in trouble.

A perpetual ocean of conflicting arousal and bitterness had been warring inside his head all week, and it was getting on his nerves. Some nights he left the house unsure if he should punch something, or if he should jerk off.

But now something else was exciting him. Since he'd brought his laptop to the motel, he'd been going online to try and figure out what was wrong with Myrtle. Ben hadn't known her condition, and hadn't seemed to want to know, furrowing his brow and scowling, asking 'Why does it matter' then walking away.

But Jack was curious. Myrtle wasn't on any medications, Ben couldn't afford it. They had a small government supplement each week from Myrtle's Social Security checks, but other than that, Ben worked. Double-shifts and another job in a grocery store as a bagger, Ben worked a lot. The teen would leave every morning, around six or seven, Jack would already be there, then Ben would return around lunchtime bringing food, and leave right after for his second shift, or even the second job. After that, he'd be home by dinner, send Jack away like a reject, assist Myrtle with getting ready for bed, sleep himself, then wake and do the whole thing all over again.

Ben worked nearly eighty hours a week. Both minimum wage jobs, the teen had gotten them when he'd turned fifteen. Jack had also learned that it even though in the warmer months Ben was able to save up his money, come winter, the house would basically bleed heat and the bill would skyrocket. The teen worked all year just to save up for that.

In all of that, of course there wasn't money for medical coverage or pharmaceutical drugs. After spending whole days with the elderly woman, Jack was positive she would benefit from medicine. He didn't know what kind, or how well, but he knew it would help.

Hence why he was still fervently searching mental health sites every night he got back. Chopsticks in hand, he sat frozen. This just might be it. All of Myrtle's symptoms, the headaches, the strange flip between memory and no memory. Even the age group and gender. It matched. Perfectly.

Pushing his take-out carton aside, Jack settled closer to his laptop, pulling it up to his lap. It was called Bernhousen Syndrome, and it was a rare genetic disease affecting women over fifty of European descent. It involved some sort of misfire between numerous synapses in the brain, something Jack could only understand halfway. Medical jargon aside, anatomy and physiology were not Jack's strong suit. He could do math, and history well enough, but science was his weakness. He barely even understood what a synapse was, and skimmed quickly over the explanation. He'd already read the symptoms, so he skipped that too, scrolling all the way down to the bottom of the page, where it listed treatments and possible outcomes after treatment.

Jack got giddy again as he saw the endless list of medicines that offered help, varying from treating mild versions of the disease to severe. The only thing keeping Jack from bouncing off the bed in excitement was that for critical cases of Bernhousen Syndrome, the site didn't have any predictions for recovery.

Jack understood that a website, even if written by a medical team like this one was, couldn't offer any concrete promise of full recovery in case of litigation and shouldn't be taken as such, but he was still rather bummed about not even a hint of Myrtle's chances.

But even the slightest whisper of hope that Myrtle could regain some of her old self, a self Jack had never met, was enough for him to pull his cell phone out of his pocket and speed-dial his office. It was after nine, and the office was most likely empty excepting the few exceedingly hardworkers who stayed past to crunch numbers. But that didn't matter. He didn't need to speak to anyone, he just needed to get the directory. The monotone female automated voice echoed in the earpiece, listing various numbers, then at the end of the reel, it offered to redirect to other offices.

Jack got himself redirected to the company's medical office, where he and all his coworkers got excellent medical coverage and private doctors. Sometimes it paid to have a mindless job. As long as that mindless job had phenomenal benefits.

He left a message with the neurological office's voicemail, asking for an appointment either tomorrow or in the next few days, then he left his number and hung up. Now all he had to do was convince Ben to let him take Myrtle to the doctor's. As with everything, he expected some resistance, but he was sure that as soon as Ben realized he could be getting his grandmother back, the boy would most definitely concede.

Ah, but it was too late now to do anything. He had to be up at the house by seven tomorrow to get there before Ben left for his first shift. Actually, he had to be there earlier now, so he could talk to the other. Give him a heads-up and fill him in. Jack hadn't mentioned how he'd been researching Myrtle's condition in his spare time. After the less than enthusiastic response to Jack's curious questioning of her sickness, Jack figured he didn't think it something that could be changed. Something he didn't think would benefit from any extra thought on the matter.

But Jack had nothing to lose. The only outcomes, if Myrtle got better or stayed the same, wouldn't change his life at all. But Ben...Ben would either continue to suffer or get his beloved grandmother back.

From every angle, Jack could see no downside. And as with a little smile to himself that he shut down his computer and lay it gently on the bedside table, moving his leftover Chinese food to the minifridge and then crawling into bed.

Tomorrow was going to be wonderful.

He switched the alarm on, since it was already set to the needed time, and then relaxed back against the fluffy motel pillows. Sighing, he left his eyes slip shut, thinking fondly of all the possible scenarios his good news could bring.

Ben would undoubtedly be completely enamored to learn all the tireless research Jack had been doing in his free time. Maybe he'd cry. But not like the usual crying, the kind Ben only ever did when he thought Jack wasn't around. But real crying, real heartfelt tears of gratitude and joy, those pretty jewel-like eyes lifted up to Jack's (even though they were the same height) and shining with unspoken adoration. Then maybe Ben would throw himself into Jack's arms, holding him tight and whispering how much he needed him. Whispering how much he wanted him. Jack would hold him back. Would fit the palm of his hands to the warm sides of Ben's soft, supple throat and run his thumbs along Ben's parted lips. Then he'd lean down and kiss him.

Jack murmured to himself, burrowing deeper into the thick sheets and fighting the giddy heat in his stomach. He was too tired to do anything, having spent the day cleaning the living room and trying to fix the leaky pipes in Myrtle's basement, and he let himself go to sleep with that warmth inside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was steadily raining as Jack pulled up the driveway, the grin from last night still plastered on his face. He pulled into his usual spot on the side of the truck, then turned the car off and got out, the smile only slightly dampened by the onslaught of rain. He rushed up to the porch, wishing he'd brought an umbrella and glad he only had to be out in the spray for a few seconds.

Up under the protection of the porch, Jack shook himself off, knocking on the door briefly for courtesy's sake, then opening it. Ben had told him to just come in, if he was going to be so determined to 'barge in on their lives' as Ben had phrased it, but Jack couldn't without some sort of preemptive warning. The house was dark, though he wasn't surprised. He'd come a half hour earlier than usual, and the sun hadn't even broken the horizon. Not that he could really tell since it was so overcast, but he knew what time the sun rose usually.

Flipping on the hallway light, he was annoyed to see it flickering. Well, he'd be changing the bulb today, no doubt. Or maybe rewiring it even. His handbook lay on the hallway table, the 'Handyman's Guide to Home Repair'. He'd bought it after leaving the first day, knowing he had nowhere near enough skill to fix anything on his own. It was written in easy steps, and once the initial confusion had passed in regards to tools, Jack discovered that he had a hidden inner skill for handiwork. And he loved it.

Working with his hands, giving something his all, aching at the end of the day, and being able to stand back to observe his success. It was a heady feeling, and Jack looked forward to each new day he'd get to spend with Myrtle and repair something else. His old job never gave him this feeling. At the end of each day at the office, each time he'd finish the paperwork accrued over the hours, he'd leave knowing there'd only be a brand new stack for him in the morning.

But here he was, doing something. For once. He was helping. Even though Ben didn't appreciate it, and seemed like he hated Jack, Jack knew what he was doing was helping. Picking up his book, he flipped to the page dealing with electrical issues, and he skimmed through it briefly.

The sound of a door slowly opening, and lurching steps upstairs drew his attention away though, and Jack glanced up from the book to see Ben standing up at the top of the staircase, in nothing but underwear and rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

“Grammy?” Came his soft sleep-filled query, hand coming away and hazy green orbs blinking down the steps to land on Jack. All at once, Ben's stance changed, hardening and straightening up. “Oh. It's you.” He muttered, sighing and moving to step forward.

But then he seemed to realize how little he was wearing, and Ben's face tensed, eyes growing huge as he jerked his hands down to cover his scantily-clad groin, before bounding back to the darkness of the hallway and his room.

Jack shook his head, sighing to himself. For a moment, Ben had looked so vulnerable, and he knew for a brief second, the other had been just tired enough to not realize what was going on. Ben's voice had been young and innocent, as if a kid again, before all this happened to him, and it only made Jack's heart ache more. He'd caught a glimpse of Ben unguarded, and it had ruffled him. Made him yearn for more of it.

But then the upstairs was creaking again, and Ben came back into view, now dressed in his work clothes. His hair was still a mess. Thoroughly mussed with bits sticking up in the back. Jack had to struggle not to laugh at him, knowing it would incite another fight.

Ben stomped down the stairs, scowling the whole time, then he pushed past Jack and went into the kitchen. “Why are you early?” He asked when Jack followed behind him, getting himself a drink of water from the faucet.

Jack smiled in smug-satisfaction when the pipes didn't squeal as the teen filled his glass. He'd done his job then. And he'd done it well. The feeling made him itch to fix something else.

If Ben noticed the silent pipes, he didn't acknowledge it, and he drank his water in one gulp. “Well?” He demanded, setting his glass on the counter. “I was sleeping, and you woke me up. You know I don't leave til seven.” Turning, he stared at the wall behind Jack's head.

Jack was used to the passive rejection. Ben only looked him in the eyes when he was screaming. When he was upset. When he was searching for a target for his anger. That target was usually Jack, or if Jack had already left the house, he could hear the angry cries ringing out from inside.

But just like that first morning he'd come back, after seeing Ben's tirade and destruction of the kitchen, there were never any remains of a blowout. Ben would always clean up whatever he'd broken or spilled, and Jack would return to a scene almost identical to the one he'd left the night before. Except now the kitchen table only had three chairs instead of four. Jack never asked about the missing chair.

“I needed to talk to you before you left and I didn't want to make you late.”

Ben made a noncommittal noise and set about preparing something for Myrtle's breakfast. Toast and eggs. From the bread and eggs Jack had purchased and brought over. They'd been among the few groceries that had survived that night. And Ben didn't speak about it. He also didn't verbalize that he was using Jack's gift when before he'd been so vehement about refusing them.

Jack didn't know what type of reasoning was going on in that sullen little head, but he didn't question it. As long as someone was benefiting from his gift, he was happy. Though...Ben never ate any of the food. He only made it for his grandmother. Maybe the teen thought as long as he didn't eat it, he wasn't really accepting it.

Whatever. Myrtle was getting appropriate nutrition now, instead of burgers and fries everyday. That was all he cared about.

“About what?” Ben asked dully, not sounding interested at all as he broke two eggs into the frying pan.

“About...” Jack wasn't quite sure how to bring this up. Could he ease into it? Sorta bring it up bit by bit? But then Ben had to leave for work at seven, and it was now quarter past six, so instead should he just plow ahead? Yes, definitely plow ahead. “Myrtle, uh...your grandmother.”

Heaving a sigh, Ben took the now-toasted bread and layered some butter on it. “Yeah? What about her?”

Jack gripped the table, surprised to find himself shaking slightly. “I think I can fix her.”

The words hovered out in the air in front of them. Dangerous.

Ben scraped the cooked eggs out onto a plate, putting the toast beside it, then he turned to Jack with one brow raised in contempt. “Fix her? What is she, a toy train?” He scoffed and faced the other way, getting a glass for Myrtle's juice. “She's not broken, idiot.”

Shaking off the insults, Jack came over to the counter, leaning his hip on it and trying to catch Ben's line of sight. “I'm talking about her condition.”

Ben sneered. “Her condition?” Moving away, he opened the fridge and pulled out the carton of orange juice, opening it to fill Myrtle's cup. “You're not making sense. You know that, right?” He didn't wait for an answer as he lifted the plate and glass and relocated them to the table. “You done? Cause I need to go get my Grandma, and she doesn't need crap like this so early. It'll upset her stomach.”

Jack knew avoidance when he saw it, and this was textbook avoidance. 'Ignore it and it will go away', so to speak. But Jack would just tread lightly, ease into it some more, and try to get Ben used to the idea that it was okay to hope. Jack folded his arms in front of his chest, thinking how best to word this. “No, I'm not done.” He said gently. “I'm trying to tell you something. I've researching her behavior and symptoms online when I leave at night. I have my laptop back at my hotel room, and before I go to sleep, I just search for what her disease might be.”

Ben's whole body was tense, though his face impassive as he turned and stared at Jack. “Disease?” The word was said distastefully, like he wanted to spit after speaking it. “She doesn't have a disease. It's called getting old. I'm sorry you can't deal with that.”

Jack regarded the other boy for a moment. Despite Ben's seemingly calm words, he was beginning to tremble almost imperceptibly. Jack had to force himself not to offer comfort. Ben would reject him outright, Jack knew, as he'd done several times before. It was as if allowing himself to be coddled in any way were a sign of weakness. Which was preposterous. Everyone needed to give in sometimes.

“It's more than aging.” Jack persisted, grimacing inwardly at Ben's obstinance. “The way her memory suddenly started to go, the way it fluctuates so much, her headaches, I mean seriously, it all points to something other than just Dementia or Alzheimer's Disease. It's more than that. I think it's something called 'Bernhousen Syndrome', which affects women Myrtle's age who have her background. From your family name, I'm assuming she's of French descent? Which also makes sense. And there was a whole section of medications that could help her-”

“Stop.” Ben whispered, and Jack could see his fists were curled into tight balls.

Jack had prepared himself for some tears and disbelief. Steeling himself further, he stood and approached the other, keeping his voice gentle. “I know this might be hard, going for so long thinking there was no way to help her, but I think if she gets some medical assistance, it could greatly improve her daily living-”

“I said stop!” Ben screeched, slamming one of his fists down on the counter and making it rattle. He turned with blazing eyes. “Don't you ever listen?! Someone says stop, and you never do!”

“Because you need to hear what I've got to say!” Jack retaliated swiftly, stepping closer. Ben needed to understand. This was too important for one of his damned tantrums. “Myrtle needs to see a doctor! She might be able to be normal again!”

“She is normal!” Ben shrieked, turning away and attempting to escape the room.

But Jack did something he had yet to do before. His fingers found themselves wrapped around Ben's arm, gripping a scrawny bicep, and he physically restrained the teen from leaving the room. Furious green eyes whipped back around to meet his own, but Jack hurried on to prevent a blowout. “She's not.” He pleaded. “And you know it. She needs help.” Ben struggled, attempting to pull himself away, but Jack tightened his grip. He could easily overpower the younger teen, but he really didn't want to. Ben just needed to listen. For a moment. “She needs to go to a doctor, and I can take her.”

Almost growling now, Ben sneered at him. “And how exactly would I even pay for that? Huh? She wouldn't want me wasting my money on some stupid hopeless doctor. He'd probably just jerk us around, telling us she needs tests and some other bullshit like that. All they want is money. My money. And you think that will help?” Ben scoffed, jerking his arm once more, which Jack released. “No, I know it wouldn't. Get it out of your thick skull that she can be,” Ben held up his hands and pantomimed air-quotes. “-cured.”

Jack regarded the teen with raised eyebrows. “A doctor is a doctor, they're job is to help people. And Myrtle needs help. Besides, you don't have to pay. I know you work hard for your money and you're on a tight budget. I can pay for it.”

“You're not paying for anything! For the last time, we don't need your money!” He dashed out into the hallway, yanking open the front door and standing there with his narrow chest heaving angrily. Jack followed warily. “Get out!” He snapped, pointing outside where the sun was just rising. “We don't need anything from you! Everything was fine until you showed up! You just appeared, forced your way into our lives, and decided to turn yourself into my father!”

Jack flinched, fighting the internal shudder those words gave him, knowing he hadn't had one fatherly thought about Ben since he'd met him. No, his mind had been far from anything a parent should have. “I'm not trying to be your...father. I'm just trying to help.”

“It's not help when people don't want it!” Ben screeched, grabbing his shirt by the shoulder and yanking him towards the open door.

Jack could have resisted, he was easily stronger than the other, but he didn't. “Ben, please-”

“No! You please! You please, get out!” Shaking fingers clutched tighter to his shirt and shoved him outside onto the porch. “And don't come back!” Then the door was slammed in his face.

Jack let out a long, suffering sigh, sliding his hands into his pockets and hunching over as he made the miserable journey to his car. That had not gone as planned. But...

Tomorrow was another day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jack showed up at the usual time, head down and voice apologetic. He looked up at the other in the doorway, peering ruefully into virulent green eyes. “I'm sorry about yesterday.” He murmured, looking down again. “I didn't mean to fight you, and I'm not trying to run your life. But I genuinely care about your grandmother now, and you too, though I know you don't believe it. I just want...” He rolled the words around in his mouth, thinking of the best way to say them. “I want to help you until you won't need it anymore. I know you don't want my help at all, but like it or not, I'm in your life now. And I can't just walk away, Ben. I don't want you to suffer, and I want Myrtle to be happy.” He paused, gaging the other's expression. It was neutral, Ben staring at him blankly. “So...I can stay today, and I'll keep coming, just to...give you some peace of mind. While your at work, you won't have to worry about her being alone. Is that...okay?”

The teen didn't answer right away, but Jack let out a breath of relief when Ben looked away and pulled open the door completely so he could come inside. “It's fine.” He said softly, still not meeting Jack's eyes. “But I've got to go, so I already put Gram in her room. You know where the key is, so you can just go up.” Ben slowly put his jacket on, staring at his feet. “I'll be back at one for lunch, so...See you then.”

Then he was off, pulling the door shut behind him and walking slowly to his car in the early morning light.

Wow, Jack thought with a brief smile. That was the closest thing they'd had to a polite conservation since they met.

Too bad Jack was about to blow it all to hell.

He waited until Ben's taillights were receding down the driveway and out onto the road, then pulled out the note he'd written the night before and placed it on the hallway table, propping it up so it could be easily seen.

He turned and walked quickly up the stairs. They were on a deadline.
Ben,
I'm sorry for this, but please don't be mad.

On the top floor, he took the key off it's hook and unlocked Myrtle's bedroom door.

I've taken your Grandmother to the doctor's, and I'll bring her back
once we're through. I'm only doing this because I really believe it will help her.

“Myrtle?” He called, opening the door slowly. “Is it alright if I come in?”

“Come in dear, I'm knitting you a sweater.”

Jack smiled to himself as he entered, seeing her in her rocking chair. “It's not Ben. It's Jack.”

As usual, she turned to him with a frown. “Are you a friend of my grandson's?”

“Yes, even though he wouldn't agree.” He joked weakly. “Are you ready?”

Please don't be angry at me, I'm only doing what I think is best.

“Ready?” Myrtle asked, pausing in her needlework and giving him a puzzled frown. “For what, Dear?”

“Your doctor's appointment, of course. Did you forget?” Jack felt a little unclean for asking such a thing.

But she only blinked at him, slowly moving to stand up. “Why yes I did! Oh goodness, how silly of me.”

“Don't worry, Myrtle,” Jack said a little sadly. “Hopefully the doctor will be able to help with that.”

We'll be back as soon as the appointment is over,
so please, don't worry. I'll take good care of her.
Jack

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dr. Hanson confirmed Jack's guess, that Myrtle had Bernhousen Syndrome. After a cat scan, blood work, and numerous other tests which Myrtle tolerated with a smile throughout, the diagnosis had come with mixed reactions. Jack had been informed that yes, medicine could vastly improve her condition and perhaps return her to normal, but also that the chance of that happening in her specific case was slim. But, they'd gotten the initial dose of medicines, then gone to the pharmacy to pick up the rest, and not a single change in Myrtle since then.

She was silent on the way back, and Jack's stomach knotted more and more. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, thinking the meds would be working so soon, but he couldn't help it. Somewhere in his heart, he knew she was going to get better and it was killing him that he couldn't see any improvement yet.

Or at least, he hoped she was going to get better.

He knew that the medicine wasn't going to do anything so quickly, that Myrtle would continue to have memory problems for quite some time. And that was only if they worked. But god, Jack hated using that word. If.

What a horribly depressing word. Shaking his head at his thoughts, he glanced over to the elderly woman, watching as she frowned and pressed her hand to the cool glass. It was raining again. An unusually chilly rain for this time of year, and not at all like yesterday's. She seemed confused by it.

Then she turned to him, her eyes troubled. “Are you...” She hesitated, blinking and squinting at him, before continuing. “...a friend of my grandson's?”

Jack sighed, rubbing his face with one hand then placing it back on the steering wheel along with the other. Aside from that slight pause, her question was identical to all the others she'd asked before, and that had Jack slumping in the driver's seat. He was hoping there'd be some change, even just the barest improvement after seeing the doctor. If there had been improvement, then maybe he wouldn't be so worried about returning her to Ben.

The impetuous youth would be absolutely livid at Jack for defying him and carting his grandmother off to a Doctor's office. Jack even debated going back yet. Though, it was nearly four o'clock, and Ben should be in the back half of his second job, and the house empty. Of course, he'd still have to see the teen when he returned at seven.

Sighing, Jack turned onto the road Myrtle's house was on. He'd been stupid to take her to the doctor's. What was the rush? Even with medicine and proper treatment now, Myrtle still wouldn't get better immediately. Who even knew how long it'd take? Weeks? Months?

...Years, even?

Dr. Hanson hadn't been able to give them a specific time frame either. If, and there was that word again, if the drugs worked, then Myrtle could start to improve almost immediately, or it could take several long months for them to start reversing the disease.

At the sight of that hidden driveway, Jack slowed the car, turning the wheel and driving up it. His stomach dropped though, when he saw that beaten-up red truck parked near the house.

Shit. Ben was home early. And probably pissed already.

Jack pulled alongside the truck, turning off the engine and sighing nervously. He glanced at Myrtle again. “You wait here and I'll go inside and get an umbrella for you, okay? It's raining a bit too much and I don't want you getting sick.”

After a moment's pause, she nodded at him, distractedly turning back to look out her window.

“Kay, I'll be right back.” He popped open his door, quickly climbing out of the car and shutting the door behind him as he raced up to the house, trying not to shiver. It really was unbearably chilly.

Up at the porch, he stopped and shook his jacket, sending drops flying off him, then he knelt down in front of the door to get the key from beneath the welcome mat.

Before he could lift the mat though, the door whipped open, revealing a very indignant Ben.

“You!” He snarled, reaching down to grasp at Jack's collar and hoist him up to his feet in an impressive feat of strength. Jack yelped as he was slammed into the wall by the door, enraged eyes boring into his own. “How dare you?!” Ben shouted, baring his teeth and his fists tangled in Jack's shirt, trembling with suppressed wrath.

Jack was actually stunned, and slightly frightened by the teen's anger.

“You come here and you act all nice and considerate and compassionate, but then as soon as I leave, you steal my grandmother, my grandmother, not yours, and you take her away from this house?! You take her to some crackpot doctor even though I ordered you not to! Who gave you the right to decide what's best for my family, huh?! We were fine before you! I don't care what you think, we were fine!” Ben eyes were nearly red, and the pupils so shrunken, they looked like pinpricks. His voice cracked as he screamed. “Did you even stop to think how fucking worried I would be when I came home for lunch to a fucking empty house?! Huh?! Did you?! No! Of course not! Because you're just some fucking loser who doesn't have a life of his own, and to make yourself feel better, you cram yourself into someone else's life, thinking it will make you a better person! What a fucking joke!”

“Benjamin Alastair Montgomery!”

Both Ben and Jack froze, their attention immediately jerking to the sound of the shocked and furious voice. There was Myrtle, standing tall on the porch, eyes wide and disappointed and staring straight at Ben, who jumped away from Jack and approached his grandmother.

“G-Gram-!”

But he was silenced when she raised one wrinkled hand and swiftly slapped him across the face. “Young man, how dare you use such horrid language in the presence of a guest?! And to put your hands on him! I swear by the Holy Mother that I raised you better than that! Now you apologize and get inside.” She huffed angrily, shaking her head, extending her hand more cordially to Jack. “On behalf of my grandson, I apologize, though he'll be doing it shortly himself. Thank you, Jack, for your help. I'm feeling mighty dizzy, and a bit woozy, but Lord Almighty if I'm not more clear-headed than I've been for ages. I'd be honored if you could stay for dinner. Let me treat you to a meal. It's the least I can do to show you my gratitude.”

The only thing Jack could do was nod, and he did, staring open-mouthed at Myrtle, who looked nearly ten years younger. Her eyes shone with a clarity Jack had never seen before, and he knew, without a doubt, that the medicine had worked, and Myrtle was swiftly growing closer to being back to normal.

“Great. You two sort this out, and I'll be in the kitchen.” Then she stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

Oh dear god, Jack let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding, blinking and trying to come to grips with what he just witnessed. Ben beside him was stock-still, one hand on his reddened cheek and that dark hair falling over his downcast eyes.

From inside, the suddenly heard something fall, then, “Good gracious! What in the good Lord's name happened to my kitchen?!”

Then Ben was falling towards him and Jack caught the teen without thinking, feeling how the other began to tremble, then weep, hard and heartbreakingly loud, into Jack's shoulder. All he could do was wrap his arms around the other's back and let his palms make small circles over that shaking back, holding Ben close as the other realized with shock what had just happened.

“Thank you!” He cried, clutching at Jack's neck. “Thank you!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jack sat at the kitchen table, shelling pea pods for Myrtle. “Am I doing this right?” He asked, laughing at himself. There was a pile of destroyed peas at his side, and then a smaller pile of acceptable peas on his other side. “I feel like I'm breaking more than I'm shelling.”

Myrtle came over from the stew she was cooking and eyed his work, chuckling at him. “Now, Jack, you're doing a fine job, but try to be a little gentler. These are peas, dear, not bear traps. Here, like this.” She plucked up a pod to demonstrate, snapping open the ends and splitting the pod open, then pushing her thumb down the sides and letting the perfect peas roll off into the bowl. “Gentle, see?”

Jack laughed again, trying to copy her but only crushing more peas in the process. “I'm no good, Myrtle. I'm ruining dinner!”

She laughed along with him, patting him on the head in that grandmotherly way and shooing him from the kitchen. “Why don't you go find my grandson instead? I'll finish the peas and call you both when supper's nearly done.”

Jack gave her a grin, then walked out into the hall, inhaling deeply as he went. God, that stew smelled wonderful. Just like his Grandma used to make, and his stomach rumbled desperately. But he could wait. His heart was happy enough to keep him distracted. The house had seemed to come alive with Myrtle's presence once more bubbling through it. Like a long lost pair of friends reunited. He smiled to himself, looking in the rooms off the hall for Ben.

After the teen had calmed down outside, he'd shoved himself away from Jack, face and eyes red from crying. Unable to meet Jack's eyes, he'd raced inside the house without a word, nearly sprinting up the stairs and then shut himself away in his room.

Jack had been left with empty arms and slightly tighter pants, shivering from the sudden lack of the boy's warm body pressed to his own. Trying not to feel too guilty from perving on her grandson, Jack went inside to find Myrtle. She'd been in the kitchen, of course, wiping down counters and wondering aloud to herself how things had gotten so dirty.

Seating himself at the table, Jack had asked her if she realized why things were so dirty, and Myrtle had paused, turning to him with muted eyes. Apparently, she couldn't remember much of the past year, but she realized that the reason she couldn't was the issue at hand. That she'd somehow gotten ill and started to forget. And she'd listened with surprising ease to Jack's explanation, accepting all he'd told her.

Almost dismissively, she'd asked him to help her make dinner and that was how he'd gotten roped into shelling those peas.

He was glad to be done with it though. He'd much rather go see how Ben was doing. The youth must still be in his room, and Jack went upstairs to get him, knocking lightly on his shut door. “Ben? You okay?”

No answer from inside.

Jack knocked again, a little louder, to the same effect. Then he tried the doorknob, and found it to be unlocked. He twisted it, opening it only a crack. “Ben, you sleeping?” But at more silence, Jack pushed it open, seeing nothing but a dark, empty room. The window was open though, and crossing over to it, Jack saw the roof of the porch outside. Had the teen eloped into the night?

For a moment he considered climbing out after him, but with a chuckle he brushed that thought away. At 28, he wasn't as spry as he used to be. For him, it'd be the stairs.

The room he left as he'd found it, and returned back downstairs, opening the front door and stepping out into the star-lit air. The rain had stopped an hour ago, and left the ground covered in shining wetness, reflecting the full moon high in the sky. It had even warmed up a bit, and the chill was gone.

“Ben?” Jack called softly, scanning the yard.

“Yeah.”

Jack whirled to see Ben sitting on the bench over at the end of the porch, head leaning up against the house. He had his knees drawn up and his arms resting on them. His face was placid.

Jack blinked at the unusual passivity, a little unnerved. Did he break the boy? “You okay out here? I checked your room, but couldn't find you.”

“Why do I need to be found?” Came the teen's soft reply, eyes staring up beneath the overhanging roof at the moon. “It's not like I'm useful.”

“Hey now, don't say that.” Jack chastised, stepping closer to the bench. “That's not true at all.”

Ben merely shrugged in silent answer, looking away. “So...Gram's going to be like she used to be? The..medicine you got her is helping her?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. As long as she keeps taking her medicine, she'll be fine. Almost exactly like she was before.”

Ben nodded back, distantly. They were silent after that, but Jack didn't want to leave yet, so he sat instead, his hip barely touching the other's. He could feel the heat though, and it had his skin prickling.

“I've always hated heroes...” Ben suddenly muttered, breaking the quiet with his flat voice.

“Huh?”

“So called 'heroes' coming in to fix everybody's problems. But who even asked for help in the first place, anyways? And they're always so grateful when someone comes in and saves the day. But if those people figured out how to fix their own problems, would they be considered heroes?” He sighed, tilting his head forward to rest his chin on one knee. “No. They'd just be doing what they had to do to survive, and no one would think them any better for it.” He drifted off into silence again, his mouth a hard line.

Jack didn't quite know what to say. There wasn't any bitterness in that voice. Or sadness. Just...defeat. “I think you're a hero, Ben.” He murmured, trying to get the other to look at him.

But Ben closed his eyes, sighing again, though this time it was shaky. “No...I'm not...” Then, with the softest hitch of his breath, Ben broke down, face falling in on itself and Ben lifting one hand to cover it. “Fuck.” He said with a rickety laugh. “I don't usually cry so damn much. But ever since you came, it's all I've been doing.”

Jack took a chance and let his arm rest on the other's shoulders, pulling the boy close and letting him lean into him. “There's nothing wrong with crying.”

That only had Ben sobbing harder, turning his face to press against Jack's chest. But just as quick as it began, Ben suddenly stopped, leaning back rather abruptly and wiping at his nose with his sleeve. “Sorry...” He sniffed wetly, swallowing.

“S'okay.” Jack smiled, moving his arms back to his side.

Ben laughed again, just as unstable as before. “It's weird,” He began, shaking his head and staring out into the darkness. “I won't have to work anymore once Gram starts her business again.”

“What did she do before?” Jack asked, curious.

“She made quilts. Huge, beautiful quilts that she would sell at the tourist shop over in town. They always sold like crazy. Not just because they were so gorgeous, but because tourists always go nuts over 'locally made' stuff. She also made a pretty decent amount selling her homemade jams and preserves. They get shipped all over the state. It was rough trying to tell the vendors that she wasn't going to do it anymore.” Ben groaned. “I tried making them myself at first, but I'm not good at cooking. I always burned it, or made it too sweet. Like I said, I'm useless.”

Jack held back the protest on his tongue, knowing Ben wouldn't even really hear him.

“But now, once everything gets settled, I...I'll get to be a kid again.” Ben made a nervous, awkward sound and turned to Jack once more. “...Thank you. I'm so sorry I was so horrible to you all this time, but...I just want you to know that I'm so so grateful for your help. You've...You've given me my Gram back, and my life back, and...God, just thank you. My Gram, she...she's all I have left in the world, so...”

Jack couldn't stop himself. “You have me.” He whispered, lifting Ben's head with one finger on the boy's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

Ben stared in surprise, mouth open slightly and face oh so close to his own. Jack really couldn't stop himself. He dipped down and kissed him, pleased at the soft sound brushing past his lips.

It was light, but warmer than Jack expected, and he settled in, pressing harder against that cherry-tinged pout and sighing happily. Ben was kissing back, hesitantly and a bit inexperienced, but he was kissing back. Never in a million years did Jack think this venomous boy would ever kiss him back. And so sweetly, too.

Moaning softly, Jack tilted his head, his tongue drifting out to lightly brush against the other's lips in question.

Ben shuddered in his arms, a light sound coming from his throat, then Jack was allowed entry, and he swept his tongue in, tenderly tapping against Ben's and nearly purring from the way Ben made soft, shy touches back, shivering in Jack's arms.

Jack reached up and threaded his fingers into Ben's hair, shifting closer on the bench and looming over the teen, sucking gently on the other's tongue and lips, curling his own tongue in Ben's hot mouth.

“Nnngh...” The lowest, neediest moan spilled past the boy's lips, his trembling hands coming up to timidly wrap around Jack's neck.

Jack groaned in reply, letting one of his hands trail down Ben's neck and down his side, stopping at the other's ass and cupping it through his jeans.

“Jack!” Ben whispered fiercely, muscles flexing nervously against Jack's palm.

Jack answered by moving in again and latching onto that thin column of pale flesh that was Ben's neck. He suckled over that tumultuous pulse, letting his lips form a vacuum as he laved his tongue over that soft surface, moving from one piece of willing skin to the next, leaving wet kiss marks as he went.

Craving closer contact, he hefted one of Ben's thigh over his lap, twisting so their chests pressed tight together, and Ben's groin was forced against his hip. His reward was the sweetest of flossy moans from Ben's throat, vibrating against his tongue.

“Boys! Dinner's ready!”

They sprung apart at the sound of Myrtle's too-close voice from the back door around the side of the house, both panting and flushed and suddenly clumsy. Heated green eyes met his own for only a second before whipping away.

Jack didn't know what to do right away. They'd obviously gotten carried away, but neither seemed to be regretting it. At a loss, Jack simply stood, stretching his back and trying to ignore the heat in his gut. “Uh, you coming?”

Ben face turned red, and the teen cleared his throat quietly, crossing his legs and shifting slowly. “...In a minute...” He whispered, not looking up.

Oh god. Ben had an erection. Ben had an erection because of Jack. Because of Jack, Ben had an erection.

He whirled around and quickly went inside the house, struggling to get that thought out of his head. If Ben had an erection because of him, that meant Ben was sexually attracted to him. If Ben was sexually attracted to him, then maybe he liked him. If he liked him, then maybe...

He was in the kitchen before he realized it, and at the sight of Myrtle's smiling face, he blushed in shame. He'd basically just been dry-humping with her grandson out on the front lawn, and he was embarrassed by his weakness. Here he was, a responsible adult, turned to a horny teenager in a matter of seconds by a simple kiss.

He took a seat at the table, smiling at Myrtle as she handed him a large bowl of steaming chicken and dumpling stew. “Wow, this smells great!” He praised, spooning himself some and blowing on it to cool before tasting it. “Oh god.” He moaned, dropping his hand to the table in amazement. “It's delicious. Best thing I've ever eaten.”

Myrtle beamed at him. “Well, thank you, dear. I'm glad you like it.” She glanced at the doorway. “Where's Benji? Didn't you find him?”

Jack blushed again. “Oh, uh, yeah. He's outside on the porch. Said he'd be in, in a minute.”

As if he knew they were talking about him, Ben was suddenly entering the kitchen, cheeks still slightly red, and he avoided Jack's eyes as he sat down. Myrtle handed him a bowl too, and Ben also moaned happily, eating his stew a little too quickly.

Jack was excited to eat such good food because he'd been eating nothing but take-out and sandwiches for the last week. But Ben had been eating crappy food for years, and Jack smiled at how happy the teen seemed to be eating real food again.

They both reached for the ladle in the stew pot at the same time, brushing fingers. Ben withdrew his hand like lightning, cheeks getting red again, and Jack trying to hide his grin.

Ben liked him.

A giddiness like helium spread through his chest, and he wanted to get up and pull the other back into a kiss. But not at the table, and of course, not in front of Myrtle.

Jack focused on having a normal, non-suspicious, pleasant conversation with Myrtle for the remainder of the meal, catching every single fleeting look that Ben shot him. When they'd all finished eating, Jack offered to help clean up, and Myrtle accepted.

“Thank you, dear, that's very nice of you. Benji will help out.”

Both swallowed, slanting nervous looks to each other.

Myrtle gave a happy sigh. “I think I'm going to go and start a new quilt. My fingers are just itching to do some patchwork.”

Left alone in the kitchen, Jack and Ben were like strangers. Jack cleared his throat, beginning to clear the dishes off the table, and Ben followed his example, wiping up the cleared surface with a moist, soapy sponge.

Jack wanted to say something. Something like 'I sorta really like you and can't get the taste of your lips or the image of you kneeling between my legs with my cock in your mouth out of my head', but he thought that'd be too forward, so he bit his tongue. He really wanted to when Ben came up to rinse the sponge under the faucet, brushing Jack's side as he rinsed the dishes for the dishwasher in front of the sink.

But they stayed silent and the awkwardness grew more tangible.

Finally, the kitchen was clean, and the small dishwasher loaded and running. They stood on opposite sides of the room, Jack staring out of his peripheral at Ben, who was standing at a tilt with one hand crossing over his chest to grip his other arm.

Thankfully, Myrtle chose that moment to come back in. “Oh, thank you boys. The kitchen looks great.” Then she turned to Jack. “Will you be coming again tomorrow, Jack?”

Jack saw Ben stiffen and slanted him a swift, piercing look.

“Well...” He began, thinking if there was any real reason he even had to come back. “I don't really know if I should...I mean...”

“Oh nonsense, Jack! You've got every right to come here if you wish. Any time you like. I certainly don't mind, and I'm sure Benji doesn't. Right, Benji?”

Jack watched Ben nod his head quickly, still not meeting his eyes.

Well, that was better than the screaming and telling him to get out that he'd been subjected to these past several days. Encouraged, Jack scratched the back of his neck, smiling faintly. “Thanks.” He said warmly. “I'll admit, I don't really like the look of that water stain upstairs. I've been wanting to get up on the roof and maybe patch it up. So, yeah, I guess I will come back tomorrow.”

“Oh wonderful!” Myrtle exclaimed, coming forward to grasp Jack's hand. “You're just too sweet, my dear.” She yawned. “Ah goodness, I'm exhausted. I think I'll be heading to bed, Benji. Don't stay up too late. Goodnight, Jack. See you tomorrow.”

After she left, Jack was left alone with Ben again. And once again, he reverted to a shy teenager. “Uh...” Shuffling his feet, he tried not to remember too vividly how hot Ben's tongue was. “So, I guess I'll be going.”

Ben nodded once. “Yeah.”

“Will you, uh...be working tomorrow?”

Ben shook his head. “...No. I think I'll take a day off.” Then his cheeks flushed. “I mean, because, you know, Gram is better, so...there's no need to...”

“That's good.” Jack smiled, charmed by the teen's behavior. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then. Probably not as early as usual, though. Maybe closer to noon. Well, goodnight, Ben.”

Ben finally looked at him, green orbs surprisingly vulnerable. “You're really coming back tomorrow?”

Jack blinked. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I?”

But Ben only shook his head. “It's nothing. Um, goodnight, I guess. Want me to walk you to the door?”

Jack waved his hand. “Nah, that's okay. I'm fine. Goodnight.” Jack left the kitchen, feeling like Ben was boring holes into his back as he went, but managing to not stumble. He left the house and locked the door as he did so, walking slowly to his car. A huge smile split his lips and he felt like jumping up into the air.

Ben really liked him!

Oh, tomorrow was going to be such a nice day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jack climbed out of his car with a grin, covertly peering up to see if Ben was waiting in any of the windows. Not that he could see, but it was sunny out today, so he couldn't really see inside. Ah well, he'd see the teen soon enough.

Walking up to the house, he rehearsed inside his head appropriate conversation topics. Today would not be another awkward day. Not if he could help it. He wanted Ben to be comfortable around him.

Now in front of the door, he knocked once, stepping back in surprise when it opened almost immediately.

“Hi.” Ben smiled at him from the inside, a tentative smile gracing those pretty lips.

Jack smiled back, a little surprised by the other's outfit. Ben was wearing a skintight t-shirt that clung to his narrow torso, and equally tight jeans that rode somewhat low on his hips. From this angle, Jack caught a glimpse of black underwear peeking out from the waist. And glancing up, he saw that Ben had styled his short, dark hair, using gel to spike it up in soft tufts.

Ben had dressed up for him. How adorable. He smirked, feeling suddenly playful. “You didn't have to dress up for me, you know.” He murmured, delighting in the way Ben coyly ducked his head. “I've seen you in nothing but your skin. Or have you forgotten?”

Ben's eyebrows disappeared into his hair and his cheeks turned a vivid shade of maroon. His mouth opened and shut repeatedly.

Chuckling, Jack stepped a little closer. “I remember.”

“Benji!” Sounded Myrtle's gasp from the hallway, surprising the both of them. “What on earth happened to your shirt?! Why is it so small?”

Ben stepped back and blushed, tugging on the bottom of his t-shirt. “...It shrunk in the wash, Gram.”

“Well, goodness, go change it! No one wants to see your stomach all day.” She chastised, shaking her head. “Kids these days...”

Jack wanted to disagree, he very much wanted to see Ben's slender stomach, but he kept silent, winking at Ben as the boy walked by, heading to the stairs.

“Hello, Jack, it's good to see you. Would you like some lunch? Benji and I already ate, but I could heat you up a plate if you'd like.”

“No thank you, I grabbed something on the way over. I'm kind of excited to get to work on that roof. Maybe even Ben could help me?”

“Oh, he'd be delighted! That boy always did like to work with his hands.”

A hot rush sparked in Jack's groin, the words making him remember just how good Ben was with his hands. Outwardly, he just nodded and smiled. “I'm sure he does.”

He wandered out into the main hallway, looking up at the sound of rapidly descending footsteps to see Ben in a different, slightly longer shirt, though this one was still rather tight. Ben halted halfway down with a blush, biting his lip before continuing at a slower pace. “Hi.” He said shyly.

“Hi.” Jack said back, feeling a little silly that he was acting like a teenager in love around this kid. “Wanna come and help me with the roof today?”

Ben nodded emphatically. “Yeah.”

They went outside to the side of the house together, where there was an old rickety ladder leaning against the wall, and they used it to get up onto the roof. Jack had stopped at a hardware store before arriving and brought a better toolkit and several batches of tiles for this project, so they were well stocked. He perched carefully on the roof and turned to Ben. “You ever used a hammer before.”

“Stupid.” Ben spat, frowning at him, showing some of his old temper. “Of course I have.”

But Jack just grinned. Regardless of how Ben acted, Jack knew now how the teen felt. “Good.” He murmured softly, watching the other's face get red the longer he stared and smiled.

“Are we gonna fix the roof or not?” Ben muttered, looking away.

Jack watched him fidget and nodded, chuckling as he handed over the spare hammer. “Here. Let me show you what we have to do.” Then he grabbed a tile and placed it at his side, using the teeth of the hammer to pry up a broken, sagging tile and then replace it with the new one.

Ben caught on quick and they began to repair the roof, hands brushing clumsily every so often when they reached for new tiles.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dinner was slightly awkward and silent again, with Ben saying nothing and Jack forced to speak only with Myrtle. Not that he minded. He recounted the day's events, regaling her with the horrors of fixing a hundred year old roof; how he'd hit his hand with the hammer, but thankfully not too hard, and how Ben had slipped near the edge for just a moment, though he left out the part where he'd pulled the other close after they got their bearings, terrified at how close he'd come to losing someone he'd just started cherishing. He finished dinner telling her how pleased he was with their work, and that hopefully, it should last her a long time.

“Mm, that was delicious, Myrtle.” Jack groaned, stretching back in his chair and arching his back with a pop. Then he slumped forward with a tired, but happy, sigh. “Let me clean up for you.” He started, standing to reach for everyone's plates.

But Myrtle lightly slapped the back of his hand. “Nonsense, dear!” She chided, standing herself and collecting all the dishes. “You've spent all day working hard out in the hot sun. What you need now is a shower and a good night's sleep. You're welcome to stay here, if you'd like.”

Her offer was generous, and Jack was almost tempted to take it, but the thought of sleeping in this house again, with the memory of what happened the last time he'd done it, well...he wouldn't be able to just sleep at all. Regretfully, he declined, shaking his head. “Thank you for the offer, Myrtle, but I think I'm just going to head back to my motel. I sleep better in beds that I've used before, and by now, I'm used to that mattress.” A lie, of course, but he couldn't actually admit the truth.

Ben suddenly jumped up from the table. “I'll walk him out to his car, Gram!”

Jack hid his initial blush, biting his tongue to keep from grinning at the boy's breathless tone. He exchanged a brief embrace with Myrtle and then bid her goodnight, glancing at Ben out the corner of his eye, and then grabbed his jacket by the door.

Ben followed quietly. All the way out to Jack's car.

Then, when Jack was at his door, Ben just stood silently, head down and hands stuffed in his pockets. Jack had never seen the teen looking so withdrawn. And awkward. It was endearing as hell, and Jack smiled to himself. “So...” He began, tilting down his head to try and catch the other's gaze. “I guess this is goodnight, Ben.”

“Hn.” The teen grunts, averting his face.

“You're not going to say goodnight to me?” Jack teased, smirking a little bit.

“...I will.” Ben grunted again, clearly avoiding doing just that.

Jack couldn't help himself. He chuckled and stepped forward, reaching up to trace his fingers along the other's jaw, prompting him to look up. When he did, Jack smiled again. “Are you waiting for something?”

The look of Ben's face was priceless. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes wide, and his mouth parted ever so slightly, small, soft breaths puffing out. Jack wanted to get even closer, but he didn't want the game to end yet. “Are you waiting for me...to kiss you?”

Ben's expression switched instantly, one of his hands coming up to swat at Jack's hands, and he snarled. “I'm not some stupid girl!” He snapped, glaring at Jack. “If I wanted a damn kiss, then I'd take it! I wouldn't ask for it!”

“Then by all means,” Jack whispered, leaning casually back against his car. “Take it.”

Ben shivered in front of him, face loosing a bit of its anger, but none of its redness. If anything, that lovely face grew even more red, cheeks blossoming with it. They were between his car and Ben's truck, and it was dark, so there was no fear of being seen. And Jack was nervous too, but the sight of Ben's own reluctance only made him bolder. If Ben was going to reciprocate his feelings, whatever they may be at this stage of their early relationship, then Jack was all to eager to help them along.

“I w-will then.” Came Ben's soft stutter, as the boy stepped forward resolutely and rose shaking hands to lightly land on Jack's chest. “I will...” He repeated, lids lowering and lips parting as he closed the remaining distance between them, that decadent mouth coming to land on Jack's.

Soft and chaste and full of clumsy restraint.

It had Jack's lips tingling and he let his eyes slip shut, his arms automatically lifting to wrap around the other's back and pull him closer, stomach flipping at the soft moan Ben suddenly made into his mouth. Without thinking, he spun them around, pressing forward with his hips and crushing that perfect body back into the car. Thank god Myrtle couldn't see them out here.

Ben moaned again when Jack rolled his hips forward, and it made his head spin. He quickened the light kiss, hands roving over Ben's back and down to cup his ass again. Oh, the teen made the sweetest sound when Jack did that. A soft, breathless, needy sound. Jack took advantage of the other's open lips to slip his tongue inside, sliding it around real slow and dirty, probing the furthest corners of Ben's impatient mouth.

His pants were growing tighter, and Jack regretted wearing jeans today. Sure, they'd been comfortable for roof work, but the swell of his impending erection was loudly protesting their confinement. He rocked forward again, trying to relieve the pressure, his breath leaving him at the welcome heat of the teen's groin. He kept one hand on Ben's ass, but moved the other to lift one of the other's legs by the knee, wrapping it around his hip. Ben moaned into his mouth again and tightened his leg, winding it around Jack's back, and Jack let his hand fall away and come up instead to cup the back of Ben's head.

When his fingers started to inadvertently press into the cleft of Ben's ass, he knew he had to stop. This was going too fast, and Ben was too young, and he was too unprepared. So he did, ending their kiss with a smaller kiss and turning his head away to catch his breath. While Ben slowly realized that they were done, Jack took the moment to shift his hands and hips to respectable places.

“Jack...” Ben murmured huskily, the sound going straight to Jack's cock. “Do you really have to go?”

Oh god. With a heavy swallow, Jack looked up to see Ben looking like he'd already been fucked, and he shivered, wanting to make the inside match the outside. It took great effort to smile nonchalantly. “Are you...saying you want me to stay the night?”

But Ben's face remained serious, and he only nodded, arching his hips against Jack's like a little devil and grinding his obvious erection into Jack's.

Jack inched away, managing by some small miracle to keep his face impassive. “Now now, I can't do that.” His voice was more hoarse than he realized, and he coughed to clear it. “Because if I do, I won't get a single wink of sleep, knowing your cute face is only a few rooms away.”

Ben blushed, and nimble fingers tried to pull Jack back to that warm body. “That's fine...we don't need to...sleep...” Whispered that soft voice, simply sinful.

But Jack shook his head, planting his arms on either side of Ben's body against the car to give himself leverage. “So that's how it is, hm?” The pounding of his heart threatened to overtake him, but he remained calm. “Well, we can't have that either. Because I won't do what you're hinting at me to do under your grandmother's roof, while she's in the next room.”

“But-”

“And don't try to guilt me into it by saying that we've already done stuff before, because that was different, and Myrtle might hear. No. She'd definitely hear.”

Ben trembled, staring at him with wide eyes. “Then...Then take me to your motel room.”

“Oh? Just go up to your grandmother and say 'Hey, don't worry, I'm just taking your underage grandson back to my empty motel room with only one bed, and I'll bring him back in the morning'? Sure, she won't think that's strange at all.” He scoffed sarcastically.

Thankfully, Ben seemed to get the message this time, because he suddenly wilted, looking down to the ground and pouting.

“Hey.” Jack murmured, dipping down to kiss him quickly. “Don't worry. I'll be back tomorrow. It's not like I'm going to just disappear on you.” He said tenderly, kissing Ben again, a little longer this time before his lips pulled away. “Don't you remember? I'm invested in this.”

His teasing got a smile in return, and Ben stopped pouting. Jack pushed himself off the car and away from Ben with effort, since there was no other place he'd rather stay. “I really need to get going now. You'll be home again tomorrow?” He asked hopefully.

Ben nodded immediately. “Yeah. You coming over again?”

Jack smiled. “Yeah. Around noon?”

Another nod.

Jack kissed Ben one more time before climbing into his car. He watched as the teen hugged himself, watching him back as he drove down the driveway and out onto the main road, every part of him buzzing.

TO BE CONTINUED

AN: Hope you guys liked this! There'll be one more chapter with the inevitable sex. Don't worry.