Ben Loves a Challenge Ch. 12

***Hey y'all.

First off, thanks for clicking into this chapter. I hope you enjoy it. It was a difficult chapter for me to write, cause it was kinda sad, but I'm a fan of happy endings, so it will all be okay.

If you haven't read any other Ben Loves a Challenge chapters I suggest starting at the beginning. While there is sex in this chapter, this chapter is much more about the characters than the sex.

Again, please enjoy.

-Penny***

His mother squeezed the air from his chest. "Seriously, Benjamin! You don't visit home enough. Just look at you, I swear you're skinnier than last time. Are you eating enough?"

He wiggled his way out of his mother's arms. "Ma, I'm fine. You know, the road works both ways, right?"

His mother's face soured. "Well, still. You should visit your mother more often. Or at least call."

He shrugged, unzipping his jacket. Tenneille mewled piteously from her carrier. "Been busy."

His mother knelt down by the cage. "Oh, you poor baby, caged up for two whole hours. Come here, little kitty." She opened the cage, but this wasn't Tennille's first rodeo and she deftly dodged his mother's arms and ran out of the room. His mother snorted, standing back up. "Well then. Why don't you go ahead and get settled. I've got a roast chicken in the oven for tonight, and your sister and the kids should be by in the morning."

He kissed his mother on the cheek. "It's good to be home, ma," he said, then picked up his suitcase and headed back towards his old bedroom. The ranch house was comfortable, but once Molly and the kids showed up the house would seem tiny. He smiled, excited to see his niece and nephews again.

He came down and helped his mother make dinner, enjoying just being with her. His father had been gone well before he was old enough to remember him, but his mother never dwelled on it.

"So, no Laura?" his mother asked, her back to him as she stirred something on the stove.

He cringed. It wasn't that he hadn't been preparing ever since he'd sorta made up with Dean, but he still wasn't ready. "Ah, no. Ma, she's, ah, you know. It wasn't gonna work between us anyway."

His mother tisked as she checked the chicken in the oven. "She was good for you, kept you from galavanting."

He didn't know what to say to that point. "Well, she didn't think we were good together, and you know, it hurt a lot when she left. For a long time. But, I've finally moved on, and I see now that it was the right thing to do."

"How so?"

He sighed. "I was a bit selfish. Maybe I still am, but I think I'm a lot better now."

His mother turned to him, sliding the tray of roast chicken onto the range top of the stove. "Selfish I'll agree with. What makes you better? Cause she broke your heart?"

"I, ah... I mighta found someone new..." He felt heat cross his cheeks and he turned away, pretending to busy himself with the rice cooker.

"Someone new? When? Who? Why didn't you start with that?" She bumped him out of the way with her hip. "Go sit down. I'll bring it to the table."

"Ma," he whined. "Let me help." He picked up the inner part of the rice cooker and brought it to the table.

"A trivet! Don't put that right down on the table, Benjamin!"

"What the hell's a trivet?"

She pushed him out of the way again and picked up the rice, then slid a ceramic square under it. "This's a trivet. So you don't burn my table." She bustled around and brought the rest of the food to the table, then sat down across from him, sliding a vase of flowers to the side so she could see him.

"Nice flowers," he noted, dishing out some rice onto his plate.

"Thanks," she said, forking a tender piece of chicken. "So, someone new? You didn't bring her home, so still pretty fresh, relationship wise?"

He nodded, preparing a plate as he thought about how to tell his mother. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and he still hadn't thought of a good way to break the news to his mother. She interrupted his train of thought.

"That chain, it's from your new girlfriend?"

"Huh?" he asked, shoving his hand back into his lap. He'd been twisting it around his neck without realizing it. "Oh. Yeah, but, ah, not a girlfriend."

"You're not dating, and she gave you something so nice? You obviously like it. Why don't you ask the poor girl out?" His mother pinched her lips as she waited for his answer.

"Um... We are dating. I, ah... So, mom, ah..." He sighed, then picked up his water glass and gulped down half of it as he built up his courage. Who knew it'd be so hard to say something so simple to his mother? "Not a girl. I'm not dating a girl. I'm dating a guy."

His mother opened her mouth, then closed it. She repeated this three times, looking a bit like a fish drowning in air before she pursed her lips together again, then sucked her bottom lip in like she did when she wanted to say something but was holding back.

"I wasn't sure how to tell you..."

"A guy?" Her lips were thin, and her hands were shaking. She put down her water glass before the liquid could slosh over the sides. "Did I hear you correctly when you said you were dating a man?"

"Um, yeah," he said, then swallowed hard. Dean's warning about how this would go mocked him from the back of his mind. He shushed it. "I know this's a shock, but..." He trailed off as his mother stood up with enough force that her chair fell to the ground behind her. "Ma?"

She opened her mouth, then pursed her lips again, effectively sealing them. She turned abruptly and marched from the room. A moment later he heard the front door slam shut.

"Well, that went well." He sighed, then finished eating. When his mother didn't come back he covered her dish with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge, then cleaned up the kitchen and went back to his old room.

He wanted to call Dean, wanted to talk to him about his mother's reaction, but he couldn't. Dean would remind him that he'd told him what would happen, and he didn't need that right now. Still, he needed to talk to someone, but who?

D'metrius's number was ringing before he could lose his nerve. Who else could he talk to who would understand. It rang twice. "Oi, straight-bait, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Ben nearly hung up, regretting this decision, all of his decisions today. "Um. I, ah. I wanted, um." Fuck it. "I came out to my mom today and it didn't go how I thought it would and I needed to talk to someone and Dean would have told me that he already told me how it would go and-"

"Slow down, Straight-bait," D'metrius cut in, effectively shutting down his speedy babble. "Now, start over, but this time with breathing between some of the words, okay?"

He sighed. "I told my mom about Dean, well not exactly about Dean. Just that I was dating a guy, we didn't actually get farther than that before she freaked out."

D'metrius sighed. "How'd you think it would go?"

"I dunno! Not like that! My mom's cool. Usually." He frowned, then looked out the window for his mother, but from his angle he didn't see anyone.

D'metrius sighed dramatically. "You just dropped it? Like, you didn't work up to it?"

"She was, like, asking, and I, ah, well, I mean, I didn't know how else to answer her."

He could practically hear D'metrius rolling his eyes. "Boy, I don't know what Dean sees in you."

"Probably my face," he retorted faster than thought.

D'metrius snorted. "Yeah, that. And you're a smart ass. Birds of a feather or some shit. Fine. I'll listen, but I don't know if I'm gonna be much help."

"I didn't know who else to call."

"I'm taking it you didn't call Dean cause he told you this would happen," D'metrius said, sounding smug.

"You know that's exactly what happened. I would put money on Dean having told you already," he said, feeling salty about it, even though they were his own words.

D'metrius clicked his tongue reproachfully. "Now, now, Straight-bait. You should have more faith in your honeybun."

Ben snorted. "Honeybun?"

"Well, what do you call him?"

He rolled his eyes. "Like I'd tell you my pet name for him. And, he did tell you, you're way too casual about this for me to have called you out of the blue."

"Only because he was upset and I used my magic to get your address for him. Did you like that little surprise visit? It took me an hour to talk him into it, and honestly I'm surprised he didn't chicken out before he got to your place. By the way, nice place, but I think you paid too much."

"How do you know how much I paid? Wait, why is that even relevant?"

"I'm a magical unicorn, Straight-bait. But Dean didn't blab. I've known him since middle school, and I know him. Me and Dean, besties for life!" D'metrius sighed. "Doesn't matter. So, your mom. On a scale of one to 'I don't have a son', where would you put your mom right now?"

"A scale of what? I dunno, like, I told her I was dating a guy. She said, 'a guy?', so I confirmed it. She did the thing she does when she doesn't wanna talk about it, then got up and left. No more words." He exhaled heavily. "You're gonna tell Dean, aren't you?"

"Straight-bait, I've been texting him this whole time."

"Seriously?" he barked. "I didn't call him for a reason!" God, Dean was gonna be salty about this now, too. It was the last thing he needed.

D'metrius laughed. "Calm down, I didn't text him. Yet. Mostly because it would hurt his feelings that you didn't call him first."

"How could I call him, D'metrius? All he'd say is 'I told you so', then we'd get into a fight again. Why is everything so difficult with him?"

"He's complicated, and he's gay. It's a common, yet difficult, combination. So, the scale?"

Ben sighed again. "Maybe a 'never talking to me again'? Either that, or an eight."

D'metrius laughed. "I didn't wanna like you, but you're funny. And, that's better than 'you're no son of mine'. Does she drive? Did she take her car?"

"She does, but her keys are still here, my car is blocking hers in the driveway."

"That's good," D'metrius noted. "She didn't ram your car, or steal it and drive it off a bridge."

"God, that's dramatic. My mom wouldn't be that dramatic."

He could practically hear D'metrius's eyebrow raise up. "Baby, you're coming out of the closet, though I'm still pretty sure you aren't gay. Drama is a way of life for you now."

"How can you say I'm not gay? I mean, I'm with Dean. Like, with-with. Doing things with. All the things."

"I highly doubt you've done all the things. The world is a big place and you're just dipping your toes into gay. For realsies, would you go to an all male strip club?"

He snorted. "No, but I don't like normal strip clubs either."

"Princess said he picked you up from one once," D'metrius said, sounding smug.

"Yeah, well, I was there with... We all make mistakes, right? I mean, I called him because I didn't want to be there, but wanted to be with him." He looked out the window again, mostly for something to do with his hands as he held the curtain to the side.

"Do you want me to suck you off?"

"What the hell are you-"

"Oh, calm down, Straight-bait. I'm not into you. I'm just saying, if you were gay, you would've at least considered it."

He snorted. "As if. I'm sure not all gay guys just play around like that. I feel like that's, oh, shit, my mom. She's headed back, I see her walking back to the house. What do I say?"

D'metrius sighed, and it sounded sad. "Tell her the truth, and be ready to get the hell outta dodge."

"Shit. Okay. I don't know if I can do this. D'metrius, how'd you come out? How did your parents take it?"

"Not really the time, is it?" D'metrius snapped. "Call me later, 'k Straight-bait?"

"Wait, don't hang... up," he said to a dead line. The sound of the door slamming shut made him cringe. He waited for ten painful minutes, but his mother didn't come back to his room. She was waiting for him to come to her.

He sighed, then crept from his room, feeling all of fourteen years old again. She wasn't in the kitchen, he found her on the couch in the living room, staring at the TV. It was off. "Ma?" he asked, anxiety making his throat tight.

She didn't answer. He crept into the room and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and turned away from him. He moved closer to her and she stood up and put the couch between them. "I can't talk to you right now," she growled.

She had never talked to him that way. He'd only ever heard her speak in that tone when his dad was around, and he barely remembered it, but he remembered this. Her voice, how angry and hurt she'd sounded.

"Mom, please-"

"I said I can't talk to you right now, Benjamin!" She turned as she yelled, fresh tears streaming down her face, making her mascara smear into her foundation. "Go away. I can't talk to you. Go back home, Benjamin. Just... Go."

"Please, don't do this, just talk to me," he begged, his hands up in front of him. He took a step towards his mother and she stepped back again. "Don't shut me out. I'm still me."

"I can't talk to you," she repeated. "I can't talk to you. I don't even know you. Go, get out of my house.You're not welcome here anymore. Leave!"

He cringed, then felt the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes. She'd never raised her voice like this to him, not even when he'd stolen a pocket knife from the store and she'd made him return it. Not even at the maddest she'd ever been with him. It wasn't even close.

He bit his lip to keep from breaking down. "Okay," he said, surrendering. "I'll go get my stuff."

"Get out now," his mother hissed. She pointed to the door. "Go away." She moved to block him from going back towards his room. He swallowed hard, then began backing away from this woman he didn't recognize.

"I'm not gonna apologize to you," he said, barely a whisper as he reached for his coat. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Just leave," she barked. "Just go already!"

He pulled it on, then paused, one hand on the door. "I love you, mom. I'm still the same me." He looked up at her, but she was crying again and he couldn't stand to see it. "Bye, I guess."

He hesitated, hoping she'd change her mind, that she'd say something different, but she didn't say anything at all. The cold air felt like a slap to the face, but it helped cut back on the sting of the tears in his eyes. He got into his car and started it, then caught his mother watching from the living room window. She dropped the drape when she saw he'd seen her, but the message was clear.

He drove, forcing himself to think about nothing. Everytime his mind wandered back to the pain of his mother's rejection he'd shut it down again, over and over in an endless loop. It shouldn't have surprised him when he found himself parked outside of Dean's apartment. He barely remembered the first hour, and didn't remember any of the last hour of his drive.

He didn't want to see Dean. He wanted to see Dean more than he'd ever wanted before. The strength of his emotions froze him in place until it was too cold inside his car to stay any longer. He reached for his phone and...

It was on the stand next to his bed. At his mom's house. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!" he yelled, his car windows now fogged up from his heat. He hit his head on the steering wheel, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to emphasize his point. "Fuck. Just. Fuck."

He couldn't even call Dean. Was Dean even home? Probably not. He turned his car on and headed home, but before he was even two blocks away he was turning back. He parked again, but still couldn't get out of his car. He drove around the block, parked again, then forced himself out into the frosty night. It was past eight now, the sky completely dark. It was cold enough to snow, but the sky was clear, a new moon hiding behind the Earth's shadow.

He walked to the door but it was locked. He knew it would be locked but tried it anyway, he didn't know what else to do. Dean's home was like a beacon to him, something he couldn't ignore. He just needed to see Dean, just needed to know he wasn't wrong, then he could go home. Dean would probably be pissed he was over without warning anyway.

All he needed was just a minute.

He finally caught a break when an old woman and her husband, he assumed they were married, pulled into the parking lot. They smiled kindly at him when they got close to the door and he smiled back, but it took a lot of effort. His face didn't seem to remember the right way to make the shape.

"Evening," he said, ducking back from the door, hunching into his coat.

"Evening, dearie," the old woman greeted. "It's too cold to be outside. Did you lock yourself out?"

"Grace, you don't know him from Adam," the old man grumbled, fumbling with the keys on his keyring. "Leave him alone."

"I don't live here," he agreed, unable to lie to them even if he was freezing. "I'm here to see my friend, but I lost my phone and can't reach him."

"I've seen you before," she noted, looking up at him from below. She reached out to him, then pulled back before she touched him. "You and that boy, the one who's way too skinny. He fixed our TV last month when the power went out, the sweetie. You his friend?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ben agreed. The old man stuck a key into the door and pulled it open, then turned back to his wife.

"Come on, then," he grumped. "You coming?" he asked, looking at Ben.

"Ah, yes, please. Thank you," he said, feeling humble.

"Ya look like ya've had a night," the old man noted. "Don't be getting inta trouble, and keep that young man outta trouble. He's good people."

"He always looks so sad," the old woman said. She frowned, then looked at him. "Do something to make him happy."

"I know he's good people, and I'll try. Thanks, I mean it, I really appreciate you letting me in. I've had a hard night. So, yeah. Just, thanks. Have a nice evening." He bowed slightly, then pushed the firedoor to the stairwell open and launched himself up the steps.

"You figure that's his boyfriend?" he heard the old woman say just before the heavy steel door closed behind him. For some reason it gave him butterflies in his stomach, though he couldn't explain why.

He ran up the steps and down the hall, slightly out of breath by the time he got to Dean's door. Knock. He could do this. All he had to do was knock. There was noise coming from inside, the TV was probably on, so Dean was home. Maybe. All he had to do was knock.

It was harder than he thought. He couldn't do this. He couldn't face Dean, not right now. Dean told him this would happen. Dean...

He turned away, headed back towards the steps, then marched back up to Dean's door, hand raised, ready to knock. He dropped his hand down to his side, then stepped closer to the door. There was canned audience laughter in the background. He pressed his forehead against the door, feeling more defeated than he'd ever felt before.

He knocked three times, then dropped his hand back to his side, stepping back from the door, his heart in his throat. He waited, listening hard. Suddenly he couldn't hear the TV anymore, just his panicky breathing and rapidly beating heart.

Had he heard the TV noises from someone else's apartment? Or, maybe it was just a quiet part? Maybe Dean wasn't home after all?

Why had he come here? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then turned and headed towards the stairs. This time he really would go home.

"Ben?"

He froze, panic confusing his muscles, because his first instinct was to run.

"What are you doing here?"

Ben couldn't turn around. "Sorry, sorry, I'll go. I'm sorry."

"Ben, are you okay?" Dean asked, and the concern in his voice was too much. "Are you okay? What happened? Ben, look at me, yea?"

He couldn't move, couldn't turn, couldn't bear to look at Dean, not after his earlier rejection. He couldn't deal with any more emotional destruction tonight. As much as he wanted to run away, his legs refused to budge. He wanted to run, but he wanted to stay even more.