~*~
Just an average night. Sitting on Ben's couch, mocking pro wrestlers, drinking cheap beer.
Suddenly, Ben's looking at Perry, eyes dark with some unidentifiable emotion. Knowing Ben, it could be just about anything - maybe affection, maybe some private joke, maybe a belch. "I really love hanging out with you, Perry."
Perry smiles, clinks his bottle against Ben's. "So do I."
Then Ben's leaning forward, and the game is on.
Perry is adamant. He will not lose this time. He's always the first to flinch, the first to pull away. Not this time. Tonight, Ben won't be the king of gay chicken. Perry will wipe that gloating smirk right off of his face.
And he does. But having Ben's lips actually connect with his isn't what he had in mind.
Perry waits for Ben to freak out and pull away.
And waits.
And waits some more.
It occurs to Perry that he could pull away. But it's a whole new game now. So he moves his lips ever so slightly against Ben's. Suddenly, he has an armful of Ben, and one of the tongues in his mouth definitely does not belong to him. Slides his hands up Ben's back, pulls him closer. Ben makes a needy sound in the back of his throat. Perry's head swims.
Ben breaks off. But he doesn't go far. Still sitting basically in Perry's lap, resting his forehead against Perry's. Perry laughs, a shaky imitation of the normal one. "Who won that round?" he whispers.
Ben's grin means everything's still right with their world. "We both did."
END