“Come on Ben,” he complained, “we have to go!”
The door opened and the tall man turned towards him with a wink. He looked amazing with his dark, messy hair and manic smile as he stepped around him with a kiss on the cheek. All he could do was stare as Ben opened the front door and walked outside, shutting the door carefully. After a few seconds the door opened again and he walked in with a laugh, immediately going back to their shared bedroom. When he came back out he was wearing a tank top and pulling a hoodie over his nicely toned, tan arms.
“Shit, Knox, you couldn’t have reminded me to put on some clothes?” he asked with a smile and a soft kiss.
”Why would I, Flores? You look so nice without them.”
“Shut up shut up shut up shut upppp! Don’t call me that, Seb.”
”Fine Benedict, but only if you call me Sebastian.”
”It’s a deal Sebastian!” he exclaimed with an enthusiastic hand shake, “Can we go now?”
The shorter man pulled him out the door and locked it behind them. They walked down the street laughing and joking around. Out of nowhere Ben stopped and bent down with a gasp, he came back up a second later with an ant in his hands. He inspected the small bug for a minute then put it back down with a laugh explaining to the other one that he thought he had stepped on it. Sebastian smiled and thought about that for the rest of the walk.
At first he had thought it was so kind, he loved it. But then he thought about the look on Bens face, he looked unhinged. He had looked fearful and joyful and angry and so utterly empty all at the same time. Seb was used to Ben looking like that but this time was different, he was red. There was a rage hidden inside his deep blue eyes.
Sebastian always loved those eyes. His own eyes were easily five different shades of green and he was quite handsome himself with his dark hair and pale skin. He was thin but not too skinny and had a scar on his face going over his cheekbone, through his lips, and under his chin, stopping at his Adam’s apple. Ben often liked to guess how he got it as Seb would never give him the real answer, he told Ben stories of dragons protecting treasures and wizards trying out magical swords.
Now as he really thought about it, Benedict’s eyes were wrong. He didn’t know what it was or how to really explain it but there was something terribly not right about them. It was the look that serial killers get when they are denying killing so much as a fly. A look of pure, bloodthirsty hatred but with petrifying terror mixed in. Oh god what was he thinking? He’s just taking his boyfriend to get another tattoo as a birthday gift. He was turning 20 and he’d promised he would after Ben got him one for his 20th birthday last year.
There is nothing wrong with my boyfriend, he tried to convince himself, we’re just going to get a tattoo.