Ben Loves a Challenge Ch. 11

"You look so hot, collared," Dean said. He leaned closer to Ben and traced the links with his fingers, his touch electric. Ben bit his lip to keep from moaning.

"Don't hold back, I wanna hear you."

"Dean, Sir, please," he whispered. He had no idea what he even wanted, what he was asking for.

"Fuck, Ben," Dean said, running his fingers through his hair. He checked the clock, then nodded. "It'll be tight, but I think we can make it."

"Make what, Sir?"

"I'm taking you home."

"No, please, Sir, we'll be late. We don't have time." He frustrated himself with his own words.

Dean growled. "You're right... Fuck. Where can we go?"

Ben considered this for a moment before reason got the better of him, surprising him at how mature he was being. "Dean, let's go back to work. You can punish me tonight, I don't want to make you late."

Dean growled. "Fuck. Goddammit, Ben, you mess me up."

Ben frowned, then turned to look out his window, disappointed that he'd disappointed Dean. "Sorry."

"Shut up!" Dean snapped. They drove in silence, Ben feeling more disappointed with each passing minute as they headed back to work. "Fuck. We'll just eat in the car and go back inside."

Dean parked and pulled out a sandwich and gave it to him. "Hope you like ham and turkey."

Ben shrugged, taking the sandwich. "Sure, it's fine." He opened it up, then frowned at the mayo. He instantly hid his frown, then took a bite. Dean had picked it out for him, so he'd eat it and like it, mayo and all.

Dean ate his own sandwich, and for a moment the only sound in the car was that of chewing and sandwich wrapper crinkling. He swallowed down his bite, then worked up the courage to ask Dean what had been on his mind since his mother texted that morning.

"So, um... Thursday's Thanksgiving. I'm figuring you probably don't go home or anything."

Dean shook his head, then swallowed his bite before responding. "Nah, D'metrius, Jimmy and I have a ritual. Going home would be disastrous." He chuckled, but it was dark.

"Oh. Yeah, I figured you didn't go home. Did you, ah... You already have plans?"

Dean nodded. "We get together, there's always a drag show at this drag bar we go to that night, a competition and also a big Thanksgiving dinner. Being gay or trans or whatever alienates some people from their families, so it's nice to have somewhere to go, yea?"

"Yeah, I see that," Ben admitted, pouting out his window at his already ruined plan.

"Why?"

He swallowed down his disappointment. "Oh, I was just gonna ask you if you wanted to go home with me for Thanksgiving. I, ah, wanted to introduce you to-"

Dean's inhale was sharp, cutting him off mid-sentence. "No."

"No? Like, um... What?"

"No. I won't meet your mother. Better yet, don't even tell her about me."

"Why not? I wanna tell her about you. I want her to meet you."

"Like I said. No. It's not happening, and you're not even gonna tell her I exist. Because, yea, just don't." Dean's body was so tense it was making him tense.

"What the hell, Dean?"

"Don't be stupid, Ben."

He drew his arms across his chest. "So, telling my mom about my boyfriend is stupid?"

"Yea," Dean answered, sounding petulant. "Don't be stupid."

"It'll be fine, Dean. I get it, you're scared cause of how your family might react-"

"You have no idea!" Dean interrupted. "I've seen it a million times, don't think you're different! Just drop it. Don't do something stupid this weekend."

"Jesus, Dean. It's not, she's fine. My mom's cool. She'll be okay."

"You don't know that. Just, don't."

"I don't see what's the big deal," he complained.

"You don't see what the big deal is?" Dean barked, too loud for the tight space. "Even more reason not to do it! Jesus!"

"That doesn't even make sense," he complained. "Fine. If I don't go, can I come with you?"

"What?!" Dean choked. "No, that's not, you can't. It's a, um, thing. I do, like, with them."

He kinda had an idea that was what Dean was gonna say, but it still hurt. Still pissed him off. "Fine. Whatever, Dean. I'm going home then, and I'll tell her if I want to, and you can't stop me. I'm not afraid of telling people about what we have, of what you are to me!"

"Then you're an idiot," Dean growled. "A fucking idiot."

"Oh, so you think I'm a fucking idiot, then?"

"Yeah, if you tell your mom," Dean spat. "Don't tell your mom about me. Don't talk about us at all. Why's this so hard for you to understand?"

"Oh, I get it," Ben snapped. "You're embarrassed of me." Now he was hurting himself, but he was too far pissed to care. "It's not about you meeting my mom. You're embarrassed because you're dating me. Embarrassed of me."

"You're not, that's not-"

"It's your turn to shut up, Dean. You are. You're embarrassed of me, you don't want me to meet your friends, you don't want to meet my family. I'm just your dirty little secret, and that's absolutely shitty."

"Ben, I-"

"Dammit Dean, I just wanted you to meet my mom. I'm not embarrassed of you, or our relationship. But, if you are, then, I dunno what. I won't be a dirty secret, Dean, not for you, not for anyone."

"It's not about secrets, Ben! It's about goddamn discretion, of which you have none! You idiot!"

He couldn't even look at Dean. "Fine. I'm a fucking idiot. I'm glad I finally know what you really think about me. Fuck you, Dean. I'll tell my mom, hell, I'll tell anyone I want whatever I want, and you don't get a say."

"You're being an idiot!" Dean shot back. "Just, you can't tell her!"

He unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed open his door, then threw his half-eaten sandwich, wrapper still around it, to the seat where he'd been sitting. "Oh, I can, and I will, because I'm a fucking idiot. Fuck you, Dean. Have a nice fucking Thanksgiving." He slammed the door, then stormed to the building, the cold, damp wind rippling his flesh with goosebumps.

He wanted to look back, to see if Dean was chasing him, or calling him back, but he didn't. He wouldn't back down. Why was it so bad if he wanted to tell his mother about them? She'd accept it, or she wouldn't, and life would go on.

Dean was embarrassed over their relationship. The memory of their first fight-slash-break up, the night he'd gotten back from his business trip and Bambi and Zion came over made his stomach sour. God, it wasn't even that long ago. It was getting old, Dean's shame over their relationship.

His face turned hot. He wasn't embarrassed! Why was Dean being so difficult! So hot and cold? He'd just been collared, just had sex for the first time, and now this. Every time they made progress Dean got like this.

Justin was walking towards him down the hall. "Hey, I heard you're banging that burka girl who sits next to you now. What happened, did Dean already dump your lame ass? Poor baby can't even keep a gay guy interested."

Ben wanted to punch him in the throat. "Fuck off, you walking STD. First, she's not Muslim, you racist asshole. Second, still dating Dean. Third, mind your own fucking buisness, yea?"

Justin's face paled at his anger, he hadn't been expecting Ben's pure rage. "That's not what I heard."

"What you heard can suck an egg, Justin. It can suck your mother's hemorrhoid-infested asshole. You're just jealous because Aisha won't ride your party pole."

Justin phh-shawed. "My party pole? I bet she'd beg me to ride my nine inch meat stick if I let her, but I don't do Muslim chicks."

"Again, she's Indian, cock-wart, not that it matters, and you only have a three inch Slim-Jim anyways. There's no way she'd beg to ride your dick, Justin, but she would definitely spank you until you cried and begged for mercy. "

"You're fucked up, you know that?" Justin flushed, then doubled down. "Whatever, she's brown, those middle Eastern girls are all the same. And my dick hasn't disappointed your mom lately..."

Ben gave him a flat stare and Justin's face flushed. "You musta aced geography back in school, eh?" He sighed and rolled his eyes. "You don't have to use it to actively disappoint people with it, Justin, they can just take a look." He turned and walked away, taking the long way through the building just to avoid talking with Justin anymore.

"Screw you, Ben," Justin called after him. "You're such, you, I hope you get ass-AIDS!"

"Ass-AIDS?" He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but didn't look back. "God, you're lame."

Fuck today, he was going home. He gave an excuse to his boss, then asked for vacation for the rest of the week, he'd go see his mother earlier. And, he'd tell her about Dean if he wanted.

Dean called him just after work. He declined it. Dean called him again a half hour later, and he declined it again, feeling petty, but also justified. Dean called again after an hour, then followed it up with a text.

'Call me.'

He nearly did, but he was still mad. 'No'

'Then answer your phone,' Dean replied nearly instantly.

'No'

Dean wrote something, he could see the message indicating he was writing something out, but he didn't send anything, and the indicator disappeared, too. Whatever. He packed up, then found Tennille's carrier.

The cat took one look at the carrier and bolted back towards his room. He sighed, knowing she'd be hiding from him for the rest of the night. He could leave tomorrow, it'd be okay.

He'd just finished making some breakfast for dinner when he heard a knock at his door. He almost ignored it, but a small flame of hope burned in his chest that it might be...

He couldn't get his hopes up. He took his time getting to the door, hopeful that if it was a girl scout or mormon that they'd leave before he opened it. He peeked out the side window and his heart climbed up his throat. He pulled the door open, both immensely happy and pissed at the same time.

"Dean?"

Dean stood outside, a puffy green coat that Ben hadn't seen before hiding everything except his face. He looked miserable.

"Hey, um... Can I come in?"

Ben pursed his lips, then shivered as a cold wind practically pushed Dean into his house. "Yeah, come on."

He moved away from the door and Dean followed him, shutting it behind himself. He kicked off his shoes, but kept the coat on. Ben opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and headed back into the kitchen. While he was pleased to see Dean here, he wasn't ready to have another fight.

Ben made himself a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast, then sat down at his small, cluttered table. He'd hoped the smell of bacon would've pulled Tennille out of her hidy-hole, but it wasn't meant to be.

Dean stood in the doorway, sheepishly biting his lower lip. "You hungry?" Ben asked as he buttered a piece of toast.

"Yeah. No, I mean, yeah, but that's not why I'm here," Dean said, studying the tile under his feet.

"You can take your coat off, if you want," he said. He piled eggs onto the buttered toast, then nibbled the corner.

"Oh. Yeah," Dean said as if he hadn't realized he was still wearing it. "Wasn't sure if you were gonna make me leave."

Ben sniffed. "I let you in, didn't I?" He took another bite. "Why would I make you leave right away?"

"Cause you're mad at me?" Dean hazarded.

Ben shrugged. "I'm sure it's not the last time," he said between bites.

"So you are mad at me."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Of course I am!"

Dean flinched. "Yeah. Okay. That's..." He sighed, then unzipped his coat and sat down across from Ben. "I'm sorry."

Ben looked up from his bacon. "You're sorry?"

"I'm not embarrassed by you. I mean, our relationship, and, ah, just you. I'm not embarrassed by you, I'm sorry that I made you feel that I was."

Ben returned to his bacon, making Dean squirm before he answered. "You sure have a hell of a way of showing it."

"I... I don't actually think you're an idiot, either. I'm sorry I said it."

Ben ate quietly, letting Dean chew on his apology for a bit. Dean looked frustrated.

"I just wanted to say that. You left early today, you're on vacation for the rest of the week, and I didn't want you to leave when we were in the middle of a fight." Dean wringed his hands nervously.

"How'd you know," he asked, "about my vacation request?"

Dean shrugged. "IT runs the scheduling program."

Silence. Dean studied his fingernails, then, when it was too long to bear, looked up at him.

"What do you want me to say, Dean? That I forgive you? That what you said today didn't hurt me? That you not wanting to be seen with me isn't super shitty?"

"No! That's not how it is!" Dean exclaimed. "I just, I mean..."

"You're embarrassed by me, admit it," Ben said. "I'm some weird gay pariah, aren't I?"

"Shit, Ben, you're fine. You're good, it's not about you. Not, I mean, it's me."

"Go on," he encouraged, though he wasn't exactly trying to be nice.

Dean sighed again, then cradled his head in his hands. "It's me. I'm embarrassed about me, me embarrassing you, or my friends being mean to you and scaring you away, or, like, your mom or your sister ostracizing you because of me."

"That's still a bullshit answer, but it's better," Ben admitted.

"Listen, Ben," Dean said, still looking down at the table. "I'm trying. I'm not good at this, I'm so... I dunno..."

"You should trust me more," Ben said.

"I do," Dean insisted.

He sighed. It was sliding into place. "You don't, but that's okay. We barely know each other. I know this isn't the same as bringing home a girl to meet my fam. I know it's not that easy, but I'm willing to do it for you, easy or hard. Stop fighting me."

"Sorry," Dean muttered, sounding teary-eyed.

Ben sighed, then pushed himself up from his chair. This whole scene felt incredibly familiar. "Don't do this to me again. Talk to me, don't hide shit from me, how you feel or what you want. Understand?"

Dean nodded, then sniffed in unshed tears. "Yea. Yea."

"Good," Ben said, not entirely over being mad at Dean. He pulled Dean up from his chair and pushed his coat to the floor. Dean smelled good, he must have showered recently. He smelled like Ben remembered from the first morning he'd woken up in Dean's bed.

"I'm sorry, still." Dean hesitantly reached out for him.

Ben instantly leaned into his outstretched hands and let them pull him closer. They were ice on his cheeks, but he didn't care as Dean's lips closed over his. Dean licked his lips and he opened up, wishing he'd had a chance to brush his teeth first. It didn't seem to bother Dean, though, who kissed him like his life depended on it. They kissed until they both needed air, then kissed some more, Dean's hand wrapped around his neck possessively. "I just don't wanna lose you, yea?"

Everything suddenly made sense now. His anger and frustration quickly melted away, turning to a lust so strong that he needed to feel Dean inside him, and he needed it right now. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, even with Laura.

"Dammit Dean," he muttered into Dean's mouth. "I need you."

"I need you too," Dean replied instantly.

"No, I mean, yea, but I need you. I want you. Inside me," he whispered, flushing. His ass clenched at the thought of the Dean-shaped void inside him.

"You want me inside... Ah... What?"

"You don't wanna be inside me?" Ben teased, nipping at his lips.

"Um, like, ah, yea, but, um, now?"

Ben bit his lip hard enough to make Dean flinch. "Right now."

Dean caught up with the conversation. "Fuck, Ben," he moaned, his hand squeezing down on his neck. "You have condoms and lube, yea?"

Ben nodded, then pulled back from Dean's lips. "Bedroom."

Dean nodded, then turned Ben around without releasing his hold on his neck. His other hand locked onto Ben's hip as he led them back to his bedroom.

Ben threw himself on the bed, pulling Dean down on top of him. "You smell so good," he muttered into Dean's neck as he kissed the cold flesh there. "But you're so cold."

"Sorry." Dean made to pull away, but Ben pulled him down on top of him.

"No, you're staying. I need you, Dean. I need you bad. Please?"

Dean's resolve seemed to crumble away. He pulled his shirt off, then messed with his belt. Ben pushed his hands away and broke into his pants, retrieving the prize he sought. Moaning, Dean pushed his pants down his hips, then lifted his ass and kicked them away awkwardly. Ben palmed his hot shaft, the only part of him that was warm.

He could change that. The half-hard member pulsed in his hand. He never thought he'd enjoy the feeling of a cock that wasn't his, but Dean's felt good in his hand. A quick thought to put it in his mouth flickered through his brain, but he needed Dean inside him more.

"Too much clothing," Dean complained, pawing at his shirt. Ben didn't want to release the warm rod in his hand, but Dean pulled his shirt up and jerked his arm away. He whined and Dean chuckled.

Once the shirt was gone Dean crashed back into him, his cold hands leaving frosty trails over his skin until they landed on his nipples. He brushed fingers over each nipple while he distracted Ben with a kiss. Ben's back rose up off the bed at the thrill of Dean's touch.

Dean did it again, a light brush at the same time over both of his nipples. Ben moaned, then bit Dean's bottom lip. "Dean," he whined, needing him, needing to come. "More."

Dean growled, then began fighting with Ben's sweatpants, peeling them down without breaking away from a frantic kiss. "You're so hard," Dean noted, looking down between their bodies.

"Fuck me, Dean," Ben begged. "I want you."

Dean nodded, then crawled down Ben's body, licking and nipping a trail down to his nipples. Dean didn't warn him, didn't ease him into further play, he just bit down on his left nipple hard, catching the nub between his teeth. Cold fingers squeezed the right one just as tight and Ben's whole body stiffened. Dean sucked hard, flicking the tip of his nipple with his tongue as he held it between his teeth.

"Dean," he moaned.

Dean sniffed, then pulled back, letting Ben's nipple pull through his teeth. He whined, his body arching into Dean's mouth.

"You like my nipples?" Ben asked, panting. His nipples burned. He both wanted Dean to do the other side and didn't, and it was confusing to every part of him but his dick.

Dean didn't answer him, just leaned in and caught his other nipple. His back arched and his dick pulsed. "Oh god," he moaned. "Mmm, oh..."

Dean pulled away again, letting his nipple scrape through his teeth. He looked up at Ben, but Ben wasn't able to hold his stare as he wriggled around from the pain and pleasure his nipples were still feeling. Lips wrapped around his right nipple again and he flinched, prepared for another bite, but this time Dean sucked hard, then licked his sensitized flesh.

He was moaning now, his body thrashing under Dean's as he sucked and licked the overly stimulated nipple. It was almost too much sensation when Dean pulled away, the suction popping with an audible sound. Fingers traced over the pebbled flesh, leaving Ben shivering and needing more.

Dean kissed Ben's chest again, then began licking down, leaving his nipples alone. He whined, trying to catch Dean's head. He hadn't finished, hadn't balanced him out by sucking on the left nipple. He needed Dean to do it, as much as he needed Dean to do everything to him.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked. He had a half-dom voice, not commanding, but definitely teasing.

"You forgot the other one," he whined, feeling slutty.

Dean chuckled. "You want me to suck your nipples?"

"God, yes," he begged. "Please."

The throaty noise of pleasure Dean made at his words had his hips jumping again. Dean locked eyes with him, then made sure he was watching as he leaned down and sucked in Ben's other nipple.

Ben's hands threaded through his hair. "Yes," he moaned. "Why's that feel so good?"