"I know we’ve been broken up for a while but i still have those concert tickets and you’re the only person i want to share this with."
(Can I do Ben/Kira? I’ve always wanted to do @lilithsaur ‘s TrashTriplets)
Kira genuinely thinks she’s misheard, or maybe gotten heatstroke. Or thinks that Ben definitely has.
She’s got mud -and it’s that point towards the end of Glastonbury where she just hopes it’s mud- caked from top to toe of her wellies, but Ben motions for her to climb on anyway.
She has to put her hands on his shoulders to not slide in muck when she leans close to respond.
“It’s our song,” he yells over the throng of people, sort of forced to be loud about things he would usually be quiet about. It is a good activity for them, post-relationship; not needing to talk, but as concert goers they need proximity, security, familiarity, camaraderie. Especially in the wake of their break-up, with siblings quietly begging for them to try and be friends for everyone’s sanity.
But it would also be the utmost betrayal if Ben did not take Kira to this show, or if Kira took the tickets he had gotten her and gone with someone else.
Here they can drink and stand next to each other and the noise and distraction staves off the more obvious question; what the fuck happened to us?
Because it does feel good being near him. Not having to miss him. Having thundering noise keep those questions far away. Thundering noise and his presence; his hand on her lower back when they move through the crowds closer to the main stage, keeping people from hitting on her, guarding her from mosh-pit fuckery. It keeps him busy from the activities that ended their tumultuous relationship. All seven times.
She had anticipated him pulling out his phone or even retreating to get a beer when the opening notes of their song sounded; but here he is, tucking a knee down towards the filthy ground to try and wedge one shoulder between her legs for the other to lift up so he could twist her to sit comfortably up above the crowd.
Ben’s a big guy, but she’s not a 90-pound instagram model, and it’s been a long weekend-
“This is for you,” he rises up slightly, still hinged forward to make the gesture of offering the lift, “this is why we’re here.”
His smile is sardonic if not a little sad.
It is their song. There is a weird feeling; in the post-ness of their coupling, that it will always be their song.
So she nods. Even though this is madness. She’s been wiggling on her tiptoes the whole show, and Ben, if not always the best boyfriend, could sometimes be so chivalrous it took her breath away. He fell in a weird place amongst his brothers. Kylo; ordered, disciplined, serious. Matt: tender, private, thoughtful.
Rebellious. Charming. Perceptive.
She holds her breath when he hooks a leg over his dipped shoulder and then rotates so her lifted knee follows, raising her up in a way that proved he could still basically bench-press her like he could when they were together. She digs her fingers in his hair, laughing from the shock of the elevation, and because…
That hair still felt the same in between her fingers.
Between her thighs, but she is trying not to think about that.
His hands settle comfortably above her knees, stroking her bare skin, and she almost wants to guide them higher, up her thighs because she’s got shorts on that make her legs a prominent physical feature. And she wants them to be, in her own vain way.
His thumb does stroke a slightly higher-than-chaste, absent circle, reassuring, as the first chorus hits.
They’d wanted to feel this live. They’ve spent hours dissecting this song without it even playing; more hours listening to it in silence. Daisy has begged them hundreds to times to give it a rest; there is a household ban of it playing during certain days of the week and hours of the day.
It is a soft moment, for both of them, maybe a reverie or a moment of quiet hope, that they are touching like this when it plays. Him holding her above his head so she can see, can be elevated so the sound waves that travel to the back of the crowd physically wash over her.
Like his place in his siblings, she scrambled to place herself amongst her sisters. Prodigy, amiable Rey and introverted, focused Daisy. Just as those pairings slotted well with Ben’s brothers; Kira always felt she fit with Ben.
He could have brought someone else here. The Ben she broke up with would have; a power move, a player move, to make her seethe with rage to punctuate things were over and he’d moved on. It would be his smug power trip. Yet he, underneath her, literally accepting all of her weight, is now turning his head to kiss the inside of her thigh instead. Thumbs still stroking her bare skin, and he uses his teeth on her for a quick and mean bite. Then presses his lips so she can feel the reverberation of him singing their song.
She cups a hand under his chin as her torso folds down, her lips finding the top of his head. She hums as she kisses the crown of his skull, nuzzling his hair.
“We’re fucked up, didn’t we?”
She feels the shake of his shoulders under her thighs; laughter. His head tilts back to be heard, his face peering up so close to where she’s leaning down.
“You figure this all out when I’m only halfway finished winning you back. At least wait until the song is over.”
She punches him, which may not be the smartest move, but even she knows he’s not going to let her fall.
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