Bradley had just caught up with Colin and Ben, who were on their way home from college. Walking behind them was a group of college boys Bradley at first reckoned nothing of and therefore when he approached them, slowing down his running pace, he wrapped his arm around his boyfriend and pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
"Don't," Colin said, moving away a little.
"What's up?" Bradley asked, eyeing Ben shorly who too shook his head and moved his hands into his pockets.
"Those guys keep making annoying remarks. It's fine, just walk on." But that was easier said than done when something hit the back of Colin's head and a McDonalds milkshake cup hit the floor behind him.
Ben turned around to the boys, his hands first raising. "What was that for?" he asked, but the boys could only laugh.
"You want one too?"
"Guys," Colin first spoke, turning to Bradley almost hopelessly, before looking at Ben too.
"Ben, leave it," Bradley spoke, but Ben didn't step back when one of the boys neared him, nor did he back off when the boy held his own milkshake in front of his crotch, squeezing it and making the white liquid leak out of the straw, dripping onto Ben's pants. "That's enough," Bradley spoke, holding his hand on Colin's shoulder, to tell him to stay out of it and that it was okay.
"You want the same?"
"No thanks," Bradley replied. "I want you to just leave us alone. What's the problem anyway?" He knew the answer.
"You're all a bunch of fucking fags. That's our problem. The lot of you. All fags," Bradley nodded slowly.
"Yes, and we're not hurting anyone by being one, yet you're all douchebags, which per default hurts people and I'm not standing in front of you 'jerking' my milkshake like a thirteen year old to humiliate you. Anyway, Ben's not humiliated by it. Nice try, but it's done now."
"Who the fuck are you to tell us what we can and can't do?!" one of the guys stepped forward.
"I'm nobody. I'm just saying that it's not very awesome of you guys to touch and be rude to me or my friends, so I'd rather you didn't."
"Oooh..." the boys all spoke and Bradley just rolled his eyes. His heart was beating fast, nervous for what was going on. What if this all got out of hand.
Two of the boys stepped towards Bradley, while the guy holding the milkshake grabbed Ben by the hair and pulled him onto his knees. How could this happen in broad daylight?! Possibly some of the passing people could help out? But no. Nobody was feeling heroic today!
The guy knotted his hand in Ben's hair and forced his lips around the straw. "That's it... yer fucking faggot. Now suck."
"Get your fucking hands off him," Bradley spoke, jaw clenched and he shoved the guys before him out of the way, stepping towards the boy with the milkshake.
It didn't even take a second for his hand to ball into a fist and smack against the side of his face.
He'd never hit anyone before. But damn did that feel good. It even felt right.
"Grab him!" the boy shouted and Bradley saw Ben get up. It didn't even look as if he was that hurt by what the boy had made him do. It was more like he had been amused by it. Ready to embarrass the boy himself.
"You like the idea of me sucking your cock then?" Ben spoke and that proved Bradley's thoughts, but that didn't change the fact that two hands gripped around his arms that he thought were fat. His stupid arms that he now had to prove to be stronger than all of these people, because there was no way he was going to let Colin fight, nor Ben. This was his time to prove that he could stand up, not only for his best friends, but for himself.
"Take your bloody hands off me," Bradley struggled and pulled hard, stamping down on their toes repeatedly until they let go.
He stepped towards the guy he'd punched. There was blood on his cheek. -- He'd cut his face? Wow. -- He and Ben were staring at each other and the tension was thick, heavy.
The boy's hand was in his pocket and only when Bradley took one step closer, did he pull his hand out and reveal a pocketknife, the blade flipping out and pointing first at Ben, then at Bradley.
"Don't make this bigger," Bradley spoke, but Ben's hand rose up slowly.
"What do you have to say?" Ben asked and Bradley frowned.
"That you're all cock sucking losers--" Suddenly Colin was at Bradley's side, a firm hand around both of his arms, keeping him there. Bradley whispered a reassurance. "And that you all are going to hell. All of you," the boy continued, still holding out the knife. "It would be my pleasure to bring you all there sooner."
"I think you'll be pleased to know I don't have long, then," Colin suddenly spoke up. "Brain tumor, should already be dead. And these two people love me," Colin looked at Ben shortly, before looking back at the boy, "and they're going to lose me, so that's pain enough, I think. And then consider the fact that we'll all be hurting more in hell the longer we live, considering all the sins we will commit in our lives. We'll burn hotter, rot for longer."
Bradley had a lump in his throat, suddenly. He was scared and moved and upset and he knew those things were the motivation behind Colin's words that he spoke with such venom that Bradley couldn't bare to look at him.
"I've lived my whole life thinking I could die any day--"
"Alright," the boy flipped his knife in and looked at the boys behind both Bradley and Colin. Bradley felt hands around his arms too. "No killing then."
The boy laughed, then lunged forward and punched the wind out of Ben, making him bend over and gasp for air that for a moment didn't enter his lungs. Bradley knew the boy felt, somehow, bad. That he was embarrassed for picking them out like this, after learning what Colin said. Yet he didn't have the heart to own up to it, to let this all slip and before he knew it all three of them were bent over, gasping for air after having the wind smacked out of them.
The boys had all moved on, but that didn't mean that they would leave them alone next time.
"You alright?" Ben gasped. He had been the first one to get hit.
"Yeah..." Bradley asked, his arm already around Colin. Ben moved to Colin's other side and slowly helped him upright. Slowly they all regained their breaths. "Maybe a good idea to have Chris with us next time."
There was a cold look on Ewan's face all day. He was looking forward to the little event he had planned that night, yet he felt cold in the longing for it. He was going to take someone more than he had ever taken anyone before.
In the many months of loving and claiming Jude, he had never done what he was about to do to Benedict.
When the both of them entered Ewan's empty flat, Jude being at his parents', he was unprepared, yet fully prepared mentally for what he was about to do. He could offer Ben wine, but that might numb the sensations he was going to bring upon him and that was the last thing he wanted. So instead Ewan moved his hand up to touch Ben's cheekbone, slowly moving up along it, his fingers sliding over the edge of his ear and suddenly digging into his hair, fingernails pushing hard against his scalp while his fingers knotted around his curls.
"I'm going to punch you in the face, my love, like your mum and dad," he spoke, his eyes going wide and his jaw clenching. The look he was giving Ben was a look of pure fury, disappointment, as a father would look at a worthless 'son'. Ha. Ben wasn't even their real son.
His hand clenched into a fist and he raised it, hitting Ben right beside his eye, causing his face to snap hard to the side.
Chris had had an incredibly nice weekend with Tom, having had the house all to themselves. It was quiet and lovely and they'd had a lot of fun, but a weekend couldn't last forever and soon Monday morning arrived and he was watching Tom leave for university. Luckily Chris didn't have to go in today and he was left lingering around the house. He was glad he could stay for a bit and even more glad about the fact that Colin was doing well without him there. Apparently he'd got up to quite some things himself...
He was in the kitchen when he saw Ben walk up the path, uncomfortably holding his bag as his other arm was pressed against his chest. Chris heard the door open and slam shut. "Hello!" Chris announced so he wouldn't end up startling Ben.
"Tom's gone to university," Chris spoke, stepping towards the hallway. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
By the time they arrived on the scene police cars were already there, their lights flashing. It was clear they had only just arrived.
Bradley's heart was racing, it had been since he'd talked to Ben, it had been since he'd learned what was going on and the moment he could, he left the car and ran onto the scene, being met by a police officer's hand. He had already forgotten he had felt bad at all over the past days. "Tell me what's going on, please."
"There's a problem regarding a gang, sir, better stay back," he spoke and as Bradley looked up he could see that police officers were still fighting to get the 'gang' cuffed and into the cars. Searching around more, his eyes suddenly fell on Ben, who was lying on the ground, officers kneeling beside him. What was happening? His heart sunk--
Tom joined him and Bradley pointed at Ben. "That's my friend, I need to get to him," and with that he pushed through and ran into the scene.
Ewan had Jude where he wanted him, at his side at all times. Jude obeyed him, he listened to his every word because Ewan was a God to him. He was the boss over Jude in every single meaning of the word. Jude did nothing without knowing Ewan would allow it... and so it was about time to move on to his next target. Yes, he'd watched the raped virgin day in day out from the very first day back at college. He never really left Tom's side... Tom... the one who hadn't hurt Jude as badly as he told Jude he had. In fact, Ewan knew Tom had never meant harm, but what a better opportunity to get what he wanted? And so Tom was the one losing all he had and Jude was the one laughing about it because he had brainwashed him into thinking Tom deserved nothing... he was good at that.
Ben, the hopeless, abused child that roamed this world as a damaged soul in a damaged body. He was helpless and all he did was endure the days that flew past him, smiling at the only friend he had in the hope that their friendship would last until he would no longer find the will to stand anymore and would take that final blade to slice open his wrists-- Ewan saw right into the depth of the young man's vulnerability and in an almost kind manner wanted to aid him.
And so he had been sending him instant messages, forcing him to meet him late at night. How had he made the genius think it was a good idea? Because he had told him, promised him that further abuse would stop his feeling of uselessness. And so Ewan waited around the corner for Ben to appear, with that very promise in mind.
A house. It was a house that was his, theirs. A house he would have shared with two of the best people and now only with one.
A small family house that now held his bedroom, his living room, his kitchen and soon also that of a stranger.
The van stood outside with both his and Ben's boxes of things as he stepped into their new house, Ben behind him. "It's a shame we didn't get 221," he stated, looking at Ben before letting out a laugh.
The family house stood in a neighbourhood very close to campus, quite a large one even. Their house was 212, close enough. "Would be inspiring for your... work, no?" Tom asked, looking around the scarcely furnished living room. "Just as lovely as last time. So, do you want to get our things inside?" he asked, smiling excitedly.
⌘ <—- Leave this in my ask if you want to see an AU where our characters are treasure hunters
It had been rumoured that the treasure was six hundred and seventy two steps north into the desert and eight hundred and five steps west from the painted Joshua Tree on the southern edge of the desert, near to one of the camps a group of famous explorers had put up.
Tom set off, a large hat defending him from the sun as he wore big boots and long, thin trousers and a jacket. His backpack was heavy, containing a small tent and fleece blanket, a tank of water, binoculars a torch and a compass.
"One hundred and fifty two, one hundred and fifty three," Tom spoke as he stepped, heading north with the compass in his hands.
"Three hundred and six… three hundred and seven…" Tom was getting exhausted and finally came to a halt by a tree, where he broke off a branch to use as a walking stick, but not after he had settled to drink some water. Three hundred and seven, he repeated in his mind, keeping the compass in his hand. He still had a few hours until the sun would go down. Perhaps he could reach the northern point by then.
Soon he set off walking again, the backpack feeling heavy on his shoulders, but he had no time to complain. He had to push through and push forwards. He had to reach the northern point by sundown, but when he got there, there was another man, who stared at him with eyes he couldn’t tell the colour of.
“Hello?” Tom asked, wondering whether the man was able to speak English.
“Hello,” the man replied, looking Tom over slowly. “Have you come for the treasure?” he asked, glaring at Tom a little.
“Yes, I have,” he stated. “Where did you come from?”
“I came from the north. One thousand four hundred and twelve steps from the north,” the man spoke and Tom raised his eyebrows.
“You must be exhausted,” Tom spoke, moving to put his backpack down and get his tent out.
“I’m alright,” the man spoke in all honesty, moving hand out to help Tom with his tent. “My name is Benedict,” he introduced and Tom nodded a little.
“Thomas,” he replied. “Thank you,” he spoke as the man helped him with his tent. The sun was going down and the air was cooling rapidly, making a chill run down his back. He grabbed the fleece blanket and pulled it around him. “Don’t you have a tent?” Tom asked, looking the man over, who laughed softly.
“If I didn’t have a tent, I wouldn’t be standing here right now,” he said, moving to the tree that was near to them and taking out what looked like a very large sheet, which he attached to the tree with rope. “It saves having to carry around those metal rods of yours,” Ben stated and as soon as the air was freezing, they tucked themselves underneath their blankets and slept all the way through the night until the sun started to show itself once more.
Ben woke up from the sound of Tom taking his tent down, even though he was trying to do so quietly to have a head start. “I’m not a heavy sleeper,” Ben stated as Tom tried to put his things into his bag.
“I realise now,” Tom replied, now taking his time, putting on the big hat and getting something to drink. “What now then? We can set off together, we’ll both find the treasure at the same time.”
“Sharing isn’t that bad,” Ben replied and Tom narrowed his eyes. “Besides, it won’t be right there when we get there. A tomb at least will be ready for us to go through.”
Tom had feared that. “I can do that without you, of course,” Tom spoke and Ben grinned.
“I doubt that,” he replied, putting on his own hat and shoving the sheet into the bag. “But what will I need you for?”
“I need this treasure,” Tom replied.
“What for?” Ben asked, securing his bag on his back.
“To save a loved one,” Tom replied and Ben nodded.
“We will be challenged, in the tomb. Our perseverance will be tested. That is what you will be needed for. The strength to go on. So, Thomas, lead the way and I will follow,” Ben spoke, at which Tom nodded and secured his own backpack, heading those eight hundred and five steps west.
“There’s nothing,” Tom stated, looking at Ben who was checking the sand.
“Don’t speak so soon,” Ben replied and ushered Tom to step back, beginning to dig with his bare hands in the sand, revealing a hatch door. “See?”
Tom’s eyebrows raised and moved to help Ben dig and pull open the hatch. A ladder lead downwards and Tom truly had no clue what it was he was going to find. “You can go first,” Tom spoke, at which Ben rolled his eyes and moved down.
Tom grabbed his torch and moved down after him, shining the torch through the ancient hallway made of sandstone. It looked Egyptian, with all those wall-paintings. “Shut the hatch,” Ben ordered as he pressed his hand against the door. Tom climbed back up and did as he said, receiving a soft ‘there we go’ from Ben when the door gave way and he pushed through.
“How do we know where we’re going,” Tom said as he caught up with the other. It seemed damp in the newfound room, while the other had seemed entirely dry.
“We don’t, but we can decipher things from what we find,” Ben spoke. “Like this,” he said, pointing at the wall.
“What is in seasons, seconds, centuries and minutes but not in decades, years or days?” Was written on the wall and Tom turned towards Ben, frowning a little. What could it mean?
“Oh, I’m not good at riddles,” Ben spoke softly, looking around the room.
Tom looked at the sentence, trying to decipher the metaphor behind it. “They’re all words for time, but they’re not divided into logical groups together, so it can’t be anything like that, unless it’s a very abstract metaphor but…”
“Logical,” Ben then spoke, after minutes of sitting down on the floor thinking. He let out a laugh and shook his head. “Goodness me it’s right in front of us,” Ben spoke, making Tom frown. “The letter ‘n’.”
A door to the far right of them slid open.
“Wait,” Ben said, looking around. “We might need something in this room,” he continued, looking around at the few objects, before walking over to something that looked like it may be something. It was an old picture frame with nothing but an incredibly faded piece of written on leather. He took the frame and tried to slide it across the wall, which only worked in one direction, suddenly revealing a small slot in the wall he slit his hand into. “A key.”
Tom’s eyebrows raised and soon they headed through the door that shut behind them with a thump. It was unmovable now.
The room seemed empty, but a door was visible. A door without a lock, so the key must have been for something else. Tom moved towards Ben who was feeling the walls, patting on them and listening. “There must be something in here.”
“Another riddle perhaps,” Tom spoke, looking around, when suddenly a fire was ignited in what had before looked like an empty fireplace. “A riddle to do with fire,” Tom said, looking into it, before grinning. “I know this one.”
Ben stood back, looking at Tom. “I am always hungry. I must be fed. The finger I touch will soon turn red,” he spoke, looking at Ben as nothing happened.
“Go on,” Ben spoke, nodding towards the fire. “Your finger,” he added and so Tom, who would do anything to just get through this tomb, swallowed and moved forwards to stick his finger in the fire, which burned and he flinched. The door clicked open and the fire was extinguished. Tom looked at his reddened finger and blew on it, breathing in deeply and moving into the next room, which was entirely dark.
“How do we know we’re safe?” Tom asked, though was suddenly silenced my Ben who wrapped a hand over his mouth.
“Listen,” Ben whispered quietly.
There was water in the room, but not still water. Something was stirring the water, making it move. The water seemed to be on both sides of them, but how much ground was there for them to walk on in this darkened room. “Torch,” Ben spoke softly, which Tom raised and flashed on, only to shine it right in the face of a crocodile who’s mouth was open and snapped in his direction.
He was about to scream, but the light had also revealed that the ground they stood upon was merely half a metre wide and the shock could make him fall backwards into the water behind him, quite likely right into the mouth of yet another crocodile, so he shut off the torch, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be using any light in here.
“Just… feel with your feet. The path isn’t going to be straight,” Ben spoke, beginning to walk. The nerves had Tom off balance, the fear making him tremble and tense, but he couldn’t let this get to him as he moved down the narrow pathway and came across the first corner Ben had made his way around successfully. Tom breathed in deeply and tried to feel for the path, his foot touching the water shortly, only to be met by a growl that he really didn’t like. Instinctively he pulled his foot back and placed it correctly on the pathway. He breathed out and continued to walk, fear flowing through his body along with adrenaline and the pure willpower to just keep going on with this.
Ben before him remained strangely calm and as he reached the wall, he felt about for a way to open the door.
“The key,” Tom spoke as he bumped into Ben and took a firm hold of him so he wouldn’t end up falling after all. The door gave way and soon he figured it was the key they’d found before that had caused it to open.
The door once more slid shut and with a seemingly safe room, Tom tried to catch his breath, a tear suddenly trickling down his face in the fear. “Oh my…” he whispered softly, moving his trembling hands to his face.
“Don’t speak so soon,” Ben spoke, turning towards Tom. “This is going to be horrible, so don’t pretend like it’s not. We’re going to see awful things,” he stated, shaking his head shortly.
“What is it?” Tom asked, trying to look around, but Ben stopped him.
“Bodies,” Ben spoke and at that, Tom’s eyes snapped away from Ben’s looking right at one of the bodies, before looking back at Ben, tears once more in his eyes as he really didn’t want to be doing this. Why was this the only way…? “Persevere.”
“What are they doing here, all of them? Why are they all dead?”
“Because they couldn’t guess the riddle,” Ben spoke, grabbing hold of Tom’s wrists. The room flashed dark and when it went light again, the room wasn’t lit as brightly anymore.
“What’s the riddle?” Tom asked.
“The more you have it, the less you see it. What is it?” Ben asked and Tom looked around, which only got him in a panic.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Ben stated, which Tom did, looking him in the eyes. “Now just think. Think. Think.”
The more you have it, the less you see it. What is it? What could it possibly be? What blinds you the more you see it? It could be so metaphorical. It could be a word, it could be love. The more love you have, the less you see it, because you’re blinded by it?
“Is it love?” Tom asked, looking up at Ben still. The room went dark once more and Tom let out a soft gasp, tensing, but soon the light flashed on again, the room once again dimmer. “What is going to kill us?” Tom asked, looking Ben over shortly.
“The darkness,” Ben stated. “I don’t know how. But it’s going to kill us, so let’s keep thinking.”
If it wasn’t love, then what was it? What blinds you? Acid? Illogical answer. Light could blind. The more light, the light could blind and so he looked at Ben, thinking that he had it.
“It’s the light,” Tom spoke, but once more the light went out and he felt his heart race as he was getting into a panic. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die!
The light finally went on, but it was dim and slowly, over time, dimming only further. “Keep your eyes on me,” Ben repeated.
“I can’t see yo-“ Tom spoke softly, the realisation suddenly striking him, right in the face, just as he felt the pressure around them grow more. “Darkness! It’s the darkness!” he suddenly shouted and the lights flashed on brightly at once. Ben, regardless of how he tried not to show it, was overcome with complete panic.
“Well done,” he spoke softly, breathing in deeply. “I’ve never been good at riddles. I hate riddles,” he said, rubbing his head. “Make my…brain… muddled.”
Tom laughed softly in relief, wondering exactly how many challenges they still needed to do.
“This tomb is going to break us, isn’t it?” Tom asked, laughing under his breath a little.
“Most likely,” Ben spoke. “But we have no choice now,” Ben added.
“So what are you here for?” Tom asked, looking him over.
“I’m a detective. I wanted to know if all this was true, about the tomb, about the treasure,” Ben spoke.
“Well, you know about the tomb, I’m going to kill myself if there isn’t a bloody treasure.”
