05

tw: sex, weed, maybe dont read this one if youre younger than like 15 or 16

Friday.

Caesar got home from work and proceeded to stand in front of his mirror for the next forty-five minutes, panicking about what he should wear before finally settling on his ripped-jeans-and-flannel-over-shitty-band-tee look. Put in contacts? God, no, that’d take him an extra half an hour. Do something with his hair other than brush it and pull the longer bits back into a ponytail? Hell no, that also takes time he doesn’t have-- hell, he doesn’t even have time to find a hair tie to tie it back with as he scrambles to grab his keys and head off to Benji’s.

So here he is, blasting some shitty indie music, his hair a ratty mess and his flannel buttoned up crookedly, absolutely panicked about this ‘date.’

Truth be told, the only date Caesar’s ever been on he hesitates to even count as a date. He’d said no, repeatedly, and yet Miss Kendra of the grade above him kept insisting she take him to a movie. When he’d finally accepted, she tried to give him a hand job, and he almost threw up on her. Wonderful date, not even a date at all.

Fuck, he forgot deoderant.

Thank god he keeps a stick in his glove compartment-- that can wait until he’s parking.

And then he’s parking, and he’s still freaking the fuck out, even as he applies the deoderant, because what if Benji doesn’t like him? What if Benji’s allergic to his shampoo? What if one of Benji’s snakes tries to eat Caesar? What if--

There’s a knock on Caesar’s window, and he almost lets out a genuine yelp when he sees Benji.

“You alright, mate?”

Oh, he is very British and very handsome in person. Caesar, face red, undoes his seatbelt and gets out of the car. Almost the same height as Caesar, maybe 5’6 or 5’7? “Yeah! Yeah, uh, I’m good.”

Benji grins, holding out a black-nailed and tattooed hand. Oh boy. Caesar shakes it, grinning a bit nervously. “Well! Nice to meet you in person, Caesar. Just as cute as in the pictures, you are.”

Caesar’s face manages to get even redder. “Uh! Thank you!” Oh, god, his voice cracked.

Benji barely gives him enough time to lock his car before Caesar’s being dragged up to his apartment, and-- oh, god, colors. So many colors. The decor almost hurts Caesar’s eyes, but after a moment of taking it all in, he can’t exactly complain. Benji’s apartment looks about as hippie as its owner, so it does make sense.

“So,” Benji says, giving Caesar the same wolfish grin he’d seen in his photo, “wanna smoke? Or just chill?” He does a little thing with his hands, and Caesar laughs.

“Smoke, definitely. What do you have?” Already, Caesar feels a little more at ease around Benji. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s wearing basically the exact same thing Caesar is, but with a blue flannel instead of a greenish-gray one.

“Mm, wedding cake, sunset sherbet, and gorilla glue right now, but I can call a guy if you ain’t into any of those? I also have edibles with wedding cake.”

Caesar’s lips part a bit. Okay, that’s more options than he expected-- which is kind of sad, because it’s only four. “Uh… I’ve heard good things about gorilla glue?”

Benji’s grin widens a bit. “A man of taste, I see,” he says, voice almost a coo as he leads Caesar to what he assumes to be the reptile room, judging from the four reptile tanks against the walls. Benji crouches in front of one of them, opening the cupboard underneath the actual reptile enclosure and gesturing Caesar over. “Bubbler, bong, or pipe?”

“Uh.” Caesar stares at each option for a tad bit too long before shrugging. “Bubblers are fun.”

“Fuck yeah they are.” Benji claps a hand over Caesar’s back, enough to almost knock him over, before grabbing a bubbler and a baggie of we-- woah, that is a lot of weed.

Benji must see the look on Caesar’s face, because he erupts into giggles at the sight of it. “You are so cute. Can’t wait to get into it with you, bro,” he says, grin still wide as he heads out of the room.

Caesar, face bright red, follows, sneaking a glance at the tank closest to the door as he does. A rather large snake stares up at him. Cute, but Caesar sure doesn’t think so.

“So!” Benji says as he heads to the living room. “What’re your boundaries for tonight? What should I not do?”

Oh, woah. That’s a first. Caesar shrugs, sitting down on the bright red couch and watching Benji prepare the bubbler. “I dunno. I’ll let you know if anything comes up?”

“Hella.” Benji grabs a water bottle from the coffee table, sitting down next to Caesar as he fills the little glass contraption. “Same for me. I’m all yours, buddy,” he says with a wink.

God, Caesar’s poor little heart is going to explode. He gives a nervous little laugh, turning to examine the rest of the living room. There are a few red and cushy-looking [WORD FOR THOSE ROUND LITTLE FOOTSTOOL THINGS] scattered across the room, and nice Caesar-height plants by the bay window to their left, but the centerpiece has got to be the absolutely massive TV. What does this dude even do for a living to be able to afford all this?

Whatever it is, Caesar’s about to forget about it real quick, because he’s just been handed a lighter and some weed. Benji’s up again, rummaging in the cabinet below the TV for what’s probably a movie, but Caesar’s too busy taking a hit to really notice. Hell yeah for mary joe anna.

Benji fiddles with what looks like a Playstation for a moment before grabbing a controller-- yep, definitely a Playstation-- and plopping back down onto the sofa. A moment later, the TV is on and Benji’s navigating Netflix. “So,” he says, sparing Caesar a glance. “Do you wanna fuck tonight? Or nah? ’Cuz I’m cool with whatever.”

Oh! Oh, so that’s what Benji was referring to earlier with his whole ‘what shouldn’t I do’ thing. Caesar goes bright, bright red and gives an awkward little laugh. That sure is a question he’d like to know the answer to, isn’t it?

“I dunno,” he says, miraculously not stammering. “Uh, maybe we can just-- see how it goes?” Stellar confidence there, buddy! Only one ‘uh’!

Benji nods as he pops on The Office. “Sounds good to me, Ce.”

Caesar’s stomach lurches. “Please don’t call me that.” The way he says that is almost snappy, but more desperate and scared than anything.

Benji falters a bit as he reaches for the bubbler. “Shit, mate, I’m sorry. I won’t-- thanks for letting me know.”

Oh. That… went well. Caesar slumps back in the horribly bright sofa, looking-- and feeling-- as if he’s just dodged a bullet. “...Thanks.” Quiet.

Benji shrugs as he takes a hit. “No worries,” he says once he exhales, not coughing even once. “Nicknames can be weird. I should’a asked.”

The bubbler is passed back to a somewhat awestruck Caesar. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, so instead he just offers Benji a little smile. Even Xana and Sam probed a bit when he first asked them not to call him that-- but Benji just… Went with it. What a sweet guy.

________

The next hour and a half is spent by Caesar getting stoned off his ass and poking fun at fictional characters as Benji gets more and more touchy and giggly.

Eventually, Benji’s wandering hands land on Caesar’s inner thigh, and he scoots close enough so that their shoulders are pressed together. “Can I kiss you?”

Oh, boy. A pretty boy asking to kiss Caesar. This couldn’t go wrong in any way, shape, or form, could it?

Instead of answering, Caesar just leans over and presses his lips to Benji’s, ignoring the scritchy scratchy of Benji’s scruff (almost as if he doesn’t have a fair amount himself). Benji wastes no time bringing his hands to Caesar’s face, touch surprisingly gentle as he deepens the kiss. He smells almost alarmingly like weed, but that’s… Probably the weed, so Caesar doesn’t bother thinking anything past that.

Benji brings his left hand to Caesar’s chest and breaks the kiss for a moment to say, “Can I touch you?”

Caesar pauses, thinking… And nods. Benji flashes that wolfish grin before closing the distance between them again and slipping a hand up Caesar’s shirt, oh-so-gently dragging his nails up Caesar’s torso. Caesar shudders, and then gives a shocked little yip when Benji touches a particularly ticklish spot, jerking away with a spot of laughter.

Benji snorts, following Caesar back and carefully nudging him down onto the sofa. “Tell me if I need to stop,” he mutters as he brings his mouth to Caesar’s neck and his hands to Caesar’s waist. Caesar nods, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes and crooked glasses.

Benji’s hands go to undo his pants, and Caesar tenses. Is he going to..?

That question is answered pretty quickly when Benji tugs down Caesar’s pants and scoots back to put his mouth on him.

Caesar gasps, a hand going to tangle in Benji’s hair. This is new-- this is something Caesar’s never had done before, and this is something Caesar isn’t sure he likes.

Okay, no, too much-- Caesar makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat, going to take his glasses off and wipe his eyes with his free hand. Too much sensory-- not good, not good at all--

And Benji’s sitting up and wiping his mouth, brow furrowed. “What’s up, mate?”

Caesar heaves a shuddery sigh, not daring to look at Benji-- not like he’d be able to, since his glasses are off, but still. “I- I--”

“Hey,” Benji says, soft now, “we can stop. Do you want a snack? Some coffee?”

Caesar shakes his head, bringing his other hand up to cover his face. What even just happened? Everything was fine, this hot-as-hell boy was all over him, and Caesar’s body just lost it-- what the hell?

Benji sits back, pressing his lips together. “Are you okay?”

Caesar nods, still not daring to look up, even when Benji helps him back into his underwear (thank god for that).

“...I’m gonna go get you some water.”

Caesar again nods, finally peeking out at Benji through parted fingers. He looks… genuinely worried, and Caesar can’t help but feel bad; Benji didn’t even do anything wrong, at least not that Caesar can think of, so why does he look as guilty as Caesar feels?

By the time Benji returns from the little kitchen nook right behind them, Caesar’s pulled his underwear up and sat up. “I’m so sorry,” he manages, taking the water bottle that’s been offered to him as Benji sits again.

“For what?”

“Freaking out.” He takes a sip. Cold.

Benji shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, mate. Sometimes we just can’t, y’know?”

Caesar shrugs, looking away. “Still. I dunno what went wrong, anyway.” Another sip.

“That’s fine. You don’t need a reason to stop, blondie. Hell, you could’ve told me to stop so you could watch The Bachelorette and I would’ve been fine with it.” Benji sounds almost amused now, but there’s still a hint of solemn sincerity to his voice.

There’s another shrug from Caesar. “Still.”

“Still what?”

“I feel bad.”

Benji offers Caesar a hand. Caesar just stares for a moment… But he does take it, despite the hesitance. “You don’t have to feel bad. Sex shouldn’t be about feeling bad-- quite the opposite, y’know? It’s about feelin’ good with someone. Nothing more-- not for me, anyway. I get some people feel more emotional about it, but ehhh.” This is punctuated with a shrug. “I just like the physical aspect of it-- sorry, I’m rambling.”

Caesar huffs, managing a bit of a smile. “You’re fine.” He looks over at Benji, and then away again. “Yeah, I just…” A shrug.

Benji nods. “No need to talk about it. We can just sit here ’n watch TV.”

Caesar bites his lip. “Are you sure? You don’t want me to get you off or anything?”

“Do you want to get me off?”

Caesar looks down, shrugs, and then nods. “Yeah. I’d feel worse if I didn’t.”

Benji pouts. “Yeah, but will you feel good doing it.” Not a question.

“I guess?”

Benji rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to get me off if it’s only to not feel guilty, dude. If you’re gonna put your fingers inside me it better be because you damn well want to.”

Oh, that was descriptive. Caesar reddens a bit. Right. No dick. “Uh, yeah, about that, um.” There’s a long, awkward pause as he considers how to word this. “I’ve never, uh…”

“Been with a trans guy?”

Caesar nods a bit too vigorously, glasses sliding down his nose a bit. “Uh, I had a girlfriend in high school who made me go down on her once, but I was really, really bad at it--”

Benji laughs. “No worries, dude. I’ll be sure to tell you if I don’t like what you’re doing.” He arches his back a bit as he tugs off his shirt. “You sure you wanna?”

“Yes.”

There’s a wolfish grin. “Perfect.”