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Ben sat in the passenger’s seat of Kevin's car, shoes off and feet on the dashboard. It was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. Kevin had needed to meet up with some old contact of his, and Ben had tagged along, thinking that the outing would only take a couple hours and they’d be home by the time the sun went down. Just his luck, it was now 2:30 in the morning and they probably wouldn't be home until noon the next day. He sat, staring at the empty void of desert roads, listening to Kevin hum along with the radio. Kevin never took his eyes off the road when he drove, and he always went exactly the speed limit, which Ben would have found annoying if he hadn't been so damn tired. Ben sighed, checking the time on his phone and cursing. He fiddled with the air conditioning, Kevin smacking his hand away.
“It’s gotta be 64 degrees Fahrenheit exactly, dude. Do you know how much deep shit we’d be in if any of these parts got overheated?”
“I don't see how, like, two degrees will affect this.”
“Yeah, well you’re not a genius auto mechanic like yours truly, so shut up and keep your hands to yourself.”
“C’moooon, dude, I'm cold!”
“There's a reason I keep a blanket in the back seat, stupid. Maybe if you weren’t such a shrimp you wouldn't get cold so easily.”
“God, youre such a tightass.”
“S’why the ladies love me so much.”
Ben punched him in the shoulder.
“Hey, who’s the one chauffeuring you home, pukebag?” Kevin said, absentmindedly smacking the air in Ben's direction. “Show some respect.”
“Respect? Who’s paying for all the gas, huh?”
“You offered. I simply accepted.”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish.”
Ben refrained from punching him again, instead watching Kevin fiddle with his seatbelt and fast forward through a song he didn't like. He could always get away with staring when Kevin was driving, and Ben loved to stare. Kevin’s dark circles were more prominent than usual, and his eyeliner smudged onto his cheeks. He hadn't shaved the morning before, and dark stubble crusted his scarred chin. He’d pulled his hair back, the crest of his widow's peak easily visible. Ben had the sudden urge to kiss him right where it made a point. He immediately looked away.
Ben’s feelings on Kevin were complicated. Part of him just thought he was jealous of him, that the weird stirring in his gut whenever they were together was just an urge to be like him. Another part of him thought it was a phase. Ben liked to pay more attention to these parts than the big, ugly elephant in the room, that he really, really, really wanted to pull Kevin over to him right then and kiss him as hard as he could, screw it if they crashed the car. He’d rather actually crash the car then do that, though.
Ben had felt like this for months, years maybe, since he was a kid. Sadly, the urge to hold the other boy’s hand hasn't gone away after he had tried to kill him the first time, or the second, or the time he had to send him to Null Void, or at all really. Every touch between them made Ben's heart start rattling around in his chest, every tiny acknowledgement that yes, they were friends now no matter what, was precious to him. Every time he saw Gwen running her thumb across Kevin’s knuckles, he was filled with nausea. Sure, he loved that she was happy, she was everything to him. He wasn't even mad about them being together. And yet, every time he saw her lay her head on his shoulder, he wondered to himself why Kevin had chosen her over him. What made her different? Wasn’t he better?
He felt like shit for thinking this. Kevin and Gwen deserved to make each other happy, and Ben’s stupid (totally not gay) clingy best friend complex was irrational and would probably (totally) be fixed once he finally met the right girl. He was getting a little tired of waiting for that to happen, though.
Hewaited until Kevin wasn’t looking to take a swig from Kevin’s diet Dr Pepper. Kevin grunted negatively at him as he swallowed fast so the bubbles would erase all the shitty, uncomfortable feelings from his brain. He put the soda back in the cupholder, and noticed something.
“You smoke?”
The cupholder was full of cigarette butts squished into the plastic.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Really? Funny, never seen you with a cigarette before.”
“Yeah. You have asthma, right? Didn't want to give you an attack.”
“Oh.”
Kevin shifted in his seat.
“S’why I bring plastic bags with me everywhere too? ‘Cause you get motion sickness.”
“Oh.”
Ben didn’t know why this information made his chest feel so weird. Sure, it always seemed like Kevin had something he needed on hand, but Ben always thought that was because he was just the type of guy to prepare for every situation he could anticipate. It made him a little giddy.
“Thanks, dude.”
“No problem. You always pay for food, so it's the least I could do.”
“No, I'm serious. This means a lot.”
“Oh.”
Ben stared at Kevin. He’d never really thought about whether Kevin liked him. Not romantically, of course not, he had a girlfriend, but just whether Kevin enjoyed his company. Kevin did things for him all the time that ranged from small kindnesses to sacrifices so large he’d never been the same since he made them. Of course Ben had thought about whether Kevin had ever liked him as a person, but sometimes it felt like people liked Ben less for his personhood and more for his potential, small parts of him they tried to divorce from his being. Why would Kevin be any different?
Kevin was always different, though. Kevin had laughed at his jokes and done small things for him since before he had known what Ben was, before they were even friends. He forgave Ben for being a dick in an instant. He liked him. He genuinely liked him.
Ben tried to think back to things he had done for Kevin. Not much, really, nothing compared to what Kevin had done with no promise of reward. Could Ben ever give back to him in the way that Kevin had given to him? He would from now on, he thought. He'd make Kevin so happy he wouldn't be able to stand it. He didn't know why the cigarette butts in the cup holder had brought this on, but he was glad they had. He'd make sure Kevin was rewarded for all his sacrifice.
“Hey, do you want to go get breakfast? I'll pay.”
“We won't be near anywhere that sells food for another 2 hours, dude, keep it in your pants. Even when we do, I'll pay. I'm a big boy, I can handle it.”
“You pay for everything in rolls of quarters, it takes fucking eons for the waitress to count your change.”
“Hey, quarters rule. None of the hassle of a credit card, plus if you get a big enough bag of them and give someone a good smack then they'll be out for at least 5 hours.”
“Is that why your hands always smell like pennies?”
“What, you go around smelling my hands? Gross, dude.”
“I wouldn't if you didn't shove them in my face all the time. I know you don't wash ‘em after you piss.”
“I totally do.”
“Yeah, and that's why you smell like pee and mothballs all the time.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“I don't!!”
“Tell that to anyone with a nose.”
“Well Gwen says I smell like freshly mown clover.”
“Gwen’s a dirty liar.”
Kevin laughed raspily, turning onto a nearby road.
Ben was now looking at Kevin's hands intently. His fingernails were covered in black polish, chipping away. The veins on his hands moved as he loosened his grip on the steering wheel. Purplish scars crusted his knuckles and fingers, and Ben wanted to ask where every single one had come from. He wanted to press his lips on the raised scar tissue. He wanted to get out of this car as soon as possible, to get away from these thoughts.
“What, something on my hands?”
They were at a red light, and Kevin was staring straight at Ben.
“Oh, um, no, I was just looking at the, um, scars on your hands. Pretty tough looking. Cool.”
Kevin looked at his hands, a slightly sad look on his face. “Yeah. Pretty tough.”
“I remember,” Ben said, rambling to make Kevin feel better, “I remember, when we were kids, and friends, we held hands one time. Crossing the street. You made fun of me for it.”
Kevin laughed softly. ‘Yeah, you insisted. Said you always needed to hold someone's hand when you crossed the street. That your mom told you to.”
“You called me a pussy. First time I ever heard that word.”
“You totally were.”
Ben laughed nervously. “Was not.”
“Your hands were so sweaty. I remember.” Kevin said as the light turned green and he looked back at the road.
“It was the middle of June, of course I was sweaty.”
“I remember that day like the back of my hand. It was 78 degrees. You're just a pussy.”
“Ok, fine, I was nervous.” Ben took another swig of Kevin’s drink.”You were so cool, and… your hand was soft.”
“You thought I was cool?”
“Duh.”
Kevin remained deadpan. Ben sweated harder.
“Um.” Kevin tried to say something, fell silent, then cleared his throat. “My hands aren't soft. Not anymore.”
Ben stared at him, his face getting hot. “I don't care.”
Kevin’s hand rested on his thigh, then lifted. Ben slowly reached over and grabbed his hand.
Kevin's hands were rough as sandpaper, and impossibly warm, completely dwarfing Ben's average sized hand. Ben hesitantly curled his fingers around the other boy’s palm. He was shaking with nervousness. Kevin softly squeezed Ben’s hand.
“Your hands are so clammy.” he said, playing with Ben’s slim fingers.
“Well yours feel like you shut them in a car door repeatedly.”
“It’s my manly charm.”
“I could use them to sand the rust off your hubcaps. Invest in some lotion.”
“Geez, if you didn't want to hold my hand, just say that.”
“No, no, that's not what I mean! “ Ben sighed. “I thought we were doing some good natured bro-ribbing, it’s not like I don't- ugh.”
Kevin snorted.
“Shut up. But I- I like your hands.” Ben looked down at their hands clasped and blushed. “They feel safe.”
“Oh. Really?”
Kevin didn't take his eyes off the road, but Ben saw his lips curl up at the ends and his cheeks flush. Ben tentatively squeezed his hand, and Kevin inhaled sharply.
They sat there, Kevin running his thumb up and down Ben’s calloused knuckles, Ben focusing very intently on a spot on the floor. He shouldn't be this crazy about this. Sure, the last person he’d actually touched was his mom when she gave him a hug 2 weeks ago, but he’d held hands with girlfriends before and felt passive about it. What was different about Kevin? Everything, usually. He couldn't stop smiling. He couldn't stop looking over at Kevin and thinking about how beautiful he was.
“You're very pretty.”
“What?”
“Oh- um, nothing.”
He’d accidentally blurted it out. Kevin momentarily let go of Ben’s hand to turn on his turn signal. He gulped.
“I mean, I know, heh, I just- I just never thought you’d say that. To me.” Kevin's cheeks were a lovely shade of maroon.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up in the moment. Sorry. I don’t know why I’m being so fucking weird.”
“No it's- it’s welcome. People don't really say that to me a lot.” Kevin was trying to return to his normal deadpan expression, but was doing a horrible job. Ben thought to himself that he needed to compliment Kevin more often.
“Well you are. Just so you know. Very. “
“Is there a gas leak in here or something? You're acting crazy.”
“What, I can't admire you? You’re one of those Greek statues to me.”
“Did you take your meds this morning? This is the nicest you’ve been to me, like, ever.”
“That you’ve heard. I'm your number one fan.” Ben winked, trying to be funny to hide the fact that he felt like he was going to throw up. In a good way, of course.
Kevin laughed, then finally turned to Ben, bringing their intertwined fingers up to his lips and kissing Ben’s knuckles. “There's something wrong with you.”
God, he was so right. Ben couldn't stop smiling.
The sun was rising now, and Kevin's hair sparkled in the morning light. He leaned close to him, putting his head on Kevin's shoulder, an extremely uncomfortable position, but as the sun hit his face, he found that he didn't really care. He could die now and be completely happy.
They pulled into a nearby truck stop parking lot. Kevin got out and opened Ben's car door for him, making a sweeping motion with his hand. Ben laughed. “Fuck off, dude.”
“You wish.”
“Not really.”
Kevin had a beautiful smile on his face. Ben got out of the car and took Kevin's hand.
“Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’ll pay.”
Kevin squeezed his hand. “Not if I do first.”
