Archive of Our Own ^beta

It all started with a cuddle.

On one stormy day, clouds overhead and thunder overhead that makes Benjamin queasy. The sidewalk was wet, and so was their butts as they huddle underneath some old wood and tarps in a dark, smelly alley.

Pico had decided that Benjamin wasn't exactly close enough for his liking- or maybe he saw him being anxious and wanted to help- whatever it was, however, it prompted him to pull Benjamin closer, oh so gently, by his waist.

It had an immediate effect, however. Not a good one, as Benjamin flung himself away in a way that would be dramatic if it wasn't for the fact he flung his hands over his head moments after. When nothing happened, Benjamin cracked an eye open and weakly asked: "What?"

Pico gazed at him with that weird look on his face (Benjamin would later find out it was concern, something Benjamins never really seen before aside from Grace, but hers felt way different.) "Are you okay?" Pico asked.

Now Benjamin was confused, why would he ask that? "Yeah, why?" He asked after another quiet moment. "I mean, my butts wet again, but-" his voice falters off very quickly as he looks at Pico. Picos gaze had grown more of that weird look, his brows furrowed now. His gaze also held something, anger, at whom Benjamin had no idea.

Benjamin, after a moment, huddled back under the tarp with Pico. Benjamin didn't touch Pico, scared that his reaction would provoke Pico. But Pico wasn't paying attention, his fists were clenched, his angry gaze staring off into the distance, away from them both.

------

Pico was never a touchy guy, Benjamin noticed. Never has been. Tended to avoid touch, even when they began to date. Pico preferred to duck away from touch and give words of love, rather than touch.

Which is why, Benjamin supposed, he found it a bit different when Pico began to try. It started off very small, hand holding and things. Benjamin found that a bit different, too, when at times Pico would raise his hands, and Benjamin would cower.

It wasn't like Benjamin could help it, he desperately wanted too, but every time he saw those raised hands he wondered if Pico was going to hit him. Like his father did.

Benjamin means, come on, thats how love is, its what his parents said (although nowadays he's believing those are a lie, like he doesn't have to marry Grace, and that having to watch his artworks burn in a fire isn't a okay punishment to give, like being locked in the closet.). When was Pico going to hurt him? His parents did it, and his parents loved him.

But, Pico didn't. No, instead he did those weird things, like press his lips to his head ("Thats a kiss, Softie.") or when Pico presses his forehead against Benjamin’s, lingering there like he was waiting for something. (“It’s called a nuzzle, Softie.”) and when he called Benjamin names, it wasn't ones that made his stomach queasy and made him hate himself. (His dad loved to say he wouldn't ever be a real man, Benjamin always hated that. He is a boy, he swears it. He just wasn't in the right body is all.)

No, the nicknames Pico called him was nice, like Softie. And Baby Blue. It made his heart do funny flip flops, he'd never felt that before. It hurt, but in a good way.

Benjamin liked to call Pico names back, apparently the ones he chose were mean, though (Why couldn't he call Pico those? Benjamin didn't understand, thats what his father called his mother.) so, Benjamin settled on "Toughie." And all was well.

If only Pico would start hurting him, so he wouldn't have to wait to see how much it will hurt.

---

Benjamins given up on the hurt thing.

It's been a few weeks since the alley incident, and they never really have time for themselves, aside from all the time they have for themselves.

What Benjamin means is, they never have time to talk, chat, whatnot. But they have plenty of times for actions. And it's making Benjamins antsy the longer it goes on.

So, one day, when they have just a little time to chat, Benjamin speaks. "Why haven't you hit me yet?" He asked Pico. He didn't know what he was expecting, but confusion wasn't it.

Pico turns from where he was spray painting the wall, tugging his mask back down to expose his face. "Why would I do that?" Pico asked, confusion in his voice, which made Benjamin confused.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Cause I don't want to? Why would I hit you? I'm not gonna hit you, not for one thing, not for another. I'm not an abuser, and I'm not gonna start now."

Benjamin had no idea what Pico was talking about. Why would he not? What was an abuser? Benjamin didn't understand.

"What?" Benjamin whispered, and now Pico became even more confused.

"What what?"

That provoked a giggle from Benjamin, and then a flinch when Pico moved towards him, and crouched down. Benjamin stayed silent for a second, before continuing. "Whats an abuser? I don't understand.. isn't that how love works? With kicks and names that made you feel queasy and.." Benjamin trailed off at the site of Picos face. He looked.. sad.

"Softie, my sweet.. no." He said, gently pressing their heads together, which for some reason comforted him and made his face go red. "An abuser is.. well.." Pico blew some air from his mouth and sat down. "Think, your dad."

"Whats my dad have to do with this?"

"Well, the way he treats you isn't love."

Benjamin was confused, his brows furrowing in a way that made him seem angry. "Yes it is."

"No, Softie, it-" Pico was interrupted, his soft voice drowned out by Benjamins

"YES it is!" Benjamin cried, his eyes suddenly beginning to well with tears, what did Pico mean? Of course it was! His dad just wanted whats best for him, thats all! "My dad said so!"

"Well of course your dad would say that, baby." Pico whispered, grasping Benjamins arms to stop him from harming himself, like the boy was so prone to do. "He didn't want you to know otherwise."

"No.. no no no no no! You're lying!" Benjamin sobbed out, trying to jerk his hands free from Pico. "My dad loves me! He does! Thats just how love is!"

"Did you like it when he did that?" Pico asked, long after Benjamins last words.

Picos words made Benjamin pause, huh? "W-What?" Benjamin asked, his voice croaky and shaky.

“Love isn’t supposed to make you flinch, Softie,” Pico murmured. “It’s supposed to make you feel safe. Not like you have to brace for the next hit.” Picos voice was soft, although they felt like a knife to Benjamins gut. No, no, no! "It's about, gifts, helpful noogies and making them laugh with weird dad jokes, and times when you have to be strict it's not with punches or kicks, like you would expect."

Benjamin sniffled, and sobbed, trying to tug away his arms, but Pico wouldn't let go. Not yet. "And when relationship love comes into play? It's about cuddles, and kisses, and holding hands and making out. It's not about hurting, I wouldn't ever do that."

"Stop.." Benjamin croaked out, begging, pleading. He didn't want to hear it. It felt like his world was collapsing around him.

But Pico was unperturbed. "And if I, or your dad, or your mom, or ANYONE who supposedly "loves" you, hurts you, or makes you do things you do want to do, or makes you feel bad, thats abuse, baby."

Benjamin was quiet, soft sobs ripping from his throat, he tugged again on his hands, trying to get them free, Pico released them, and Benjamin curled up into a ball, sniffling and sobbing, his head hurt, his everything hurt. He couldn't understand, didn't want to.

Pico stayed silent, sitting on his legs as Benjamin cried. And, after a while of Benjamin calming down, he spoke again. "I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice so soft, like it was as he ripped Benjamins life apart. "I say those things, and I kinda did a few, didn't I?"

Pico smiled, a grim, sad smile. "I'm sorry, okay?" Pico was apologizing, Benjamin didn't know why. "I know it hurt to hear, but you had to do so. I should've told you about it sooner, huh?" Benjamin stayed silent, his gaze fuzzy, unfocused. "You needed to know, and I'm aware I shouldn't have been so harsh and mean, and i am sorry about that. But baby.. you gotta understand.." Pico sighs, and, oh so gently, cups Benjamins face into his hands, pressing their foreheads together soon after.

"What your parents did.. what your dad did, it wasn't okay. It never will be, okay? They didn't love you, that wasn't love. That was abuse, okay?" Picos voice was a soft, soft whisper. "I need you to understand that for me, okay?"

"Okay.." Benjamin whispered after a long moment, his breath hitching on that single word.

And that was that.

-----

Despite the.. awakening, and his head hurting for days after (what was he supposed to do, to feel? He felt empty, nothing made sense anymore.) It begged the question of what love was supposed to be. What is Benjamin supposed to do?

Pico, after the incident, began to show a bit more affection, gentle pokes, kisses, nuzzles, all weird names but they strangely fit. He even made Benjamin giggle a little with his weird antics, like the time Pico found a tattered old hat on the ground and plopped it onto Benjamin’s head with his stupid grin. “There. Now you’re royalty, Softie.” Benjamin didn’t react at first, but then Pico bowed dramatically, calling him ‘Your Majesty,’ something almost like a laugh tried to escape his throat. It was just so absurd.

Eventually, Benjamin began to reciprocate, at best he can with his world shattered. The love he knew that burns and hate, what made this so different?

Well, for one, it felt nice. To feel those lips on his head, and getting to feel his lips on Picos head. That felt different, but the way Pico would gently rub his cheeks after kissing him made Benjamin completely melt.

Benjamin found out he was horribly touch starved- or at least, thats what Pico called it. He loves touches, loves kisses, loved nuzzles, although he's still weary, he knows Pico wouldn't hurt him, not like them but his memories of his parents hurt just the same, made him so weary.

And since Pico mentioned it, Benjamin couldn't stop noticing it. The way he leaned oh so close to Pico without his thinking. Every touch, every nuzzle, was everything to Benjamin yet nothing at all. Every touch made his heart scream in joy, he wanted more. It was like water, and Benjamin was so, so thirsty.

But then came the fear.

Every time he touched Pico- each time he melted into the warmth- panic followed. He would freeze, his stomach would churn. The urge to pull away immediate after every touch. He wanted to run and hide. Was he asking too much? What if he was doing it all wrong? What if Pico didn't want this? He didn't understand Pico's "Love", how different it was from his own, which wasn't even love at all. He felt like one wrong move and everything would break, and be how it was before, something he desperately didn't want.

Pico always noticed, every single time. He always looked at him with that concerned look in his eyes. Always whispering that soft "Softie?" That made everything so much better but so much worse.

One time, Benjamin hand gripped Picos shirt like a quiet lifeline. He didn't even realize he did it at first, but when he did he couldn't pull away. Like if he let go, he would dare blow away, and he didn't want to do that. His actions wasn't anything huge, but enough so that, when Pico didn't react much, a huge wave of relief filled him.

He had no idea how to explain what he felt, gratitude? Happy? Upset? He didn't know. It was the closest he ever came to feeling safe. He supposed it was enough.

Another time was when Pico ruffled his hair, it was a simple gesture to Pico, but something entirely different to Benjamin.

Usually, to Benjamin, when someone touches his hair it means he's getting thrown down the basement stairs. It means pain and hurt and oh god someone save me so, of course he flinched away hard from Pico, shrinking away from him before he even knew what he was doing.

Pico, ever the damn observer, noticed. He flinched himself, as if he didn't expect it, but then relaxes softly, his gaze sad. "Softie." He murmurs to Benjamin, staring down at him.

Benjamin didn't look, he was tense, waiting. When was the pain of his hair getting pulled gonna begin? Should he buckle his knees? His heart was racing, his chest wailing for air as he quietly trembled, his eyes downcast, his body tensing up desperately. When would it start?

Benjamin didn't look at Pico. His body was tense, waiting. His knees trembled, his heart wailing for more but his brain telling him no. His lungs screamed for air, his li,bs stiff and waiting. when would it start? When would the pain begin?

But that didn't happen, it didn't start.

Instead, Picos hand cupped his chin tilted his head to look into his eyes, rubbing his cheekbones with his thumbs in that soothing, grounding motion all the while.

"'m not gonna hurt you. Never, okay?"

Never..?

Benjamin didn't know what to think about that, never felt too good to be true. Hes been told that lie before. He, with a pounding heart and shaking hands, tentatively nods. Scared, fear filled. Waiting.

Pico pulled away, but Benjamin was still lost in his memories that refused to let go.

A quiet moment, shared. No words. Just the understanding in the touch.

Benjamin wanted to explain it, wanted to tell Pico everything how his insides felt like they were on fire, how his body craved these touches yet pulled away from them at the same time. But Pico didn’t ask for an explanation. He never did. Pico just let Benjamin exist, let him feel whatever he needed to feel without pressure or expectation.

Benjamin swallowed again, pushing back some tears of whatever was stirring in him. Was this hope? It felt fragile, terrifying. The warmth of Picos hands made something inside him buzz, something unfamiliar. Something he had no idea how to name. Something he didn't know how to protect.

So, he stayed quiet. He didn’t speak, didn’t move much. He just stayed there, letting Pico’s steady presence be enough.

And Pico didn't push, or pry, or demand. Pico didn't want anything, and didn't expect anything either.

He just was, a tether to the frightening world that Benjamin has no choice but no navigate through again, although this time he wasn't alone.

And so, if a few moments later when Pico is spray painting, Pico feels a gentle bump against his shoulder, a small but powerful gesture, Pico didn't say, and Benjamin didn't explain.

Must have been the wind.

-----

Benjamin couldn't tell you when everything changed.

One second he was scared of touch, of Pico. Scared the male would hurt him, scared of the abuse that would transpire if he did something wrong. The next, he was hesitantly reaching out. Slowly, hesitantly, like he had something fragile. One wrong move and it would break.

It, though, wasn't as easy as Benjamin made it out to be. Every time he touched Pico, or Pico touched him, warnings would surface his mind. Be careful. The voice would whisper, the one that never proved him wrong, and made him more anxious. This isn't safe, you'll regret it.

Despite it, though, the voice wasn't at loud as it should be, used to be. Maybe it was the exhaustion of being on the run, of hiding in alleyways and having meager rations from dumpsters and other things. Maybe it was the fact he trusted Pico, or maybe he finally realized Pico wouldn't hurt him.

The fear wasn't as loud, wasn't able to make him tremble, and shake, and quiver under the fearful pressure of him doing something wrong. That, inevitably, he was bound to do something "wrong"

And so, one night, he did something very reckless.

He grabbed Picos hand first.

He spooked himself by his action. His hand grabbing tightly onto his wrist. Benjamin had no full reason as to why he wanted to do it. He didn't get scared, they wasn't on the run, in fact they were staying at a run down hotel for the night.

He just.. wanted to.

And when he started it, he couldn't stop. His hands gripped Picos wrist softly but firmly, as if to quietly tell Pico "don't leave" without Benjamin even being fully aware thats what he wanted. He didn't know what to expect from Pico. Maybe for the man to freeze in place, or for him to yell, or for maybe the world to be different now he made the first move.

That didn't happen, none of those did, actually.

Instead, Pico blinked down at their hands, before a soft smile appeared on his face. Something warm, something Benjamin has seen plenty from Pico but didn't understand yet.

It hurt.

"Look at you, Softie." Pico said, his voice softer than anything Benjamin had heard from the man. It confused Benjamin. Why so soft? "Getting bold on me, eh? Might have to start calling you Toughie."

Benjamin twitched at that, his fingers curling into a fist.

"No." He murmured, his voice was quiet. Stubborn. "My nickname, you can't have it."

Pico, paused, blinking.

Then, he laughed.

"Ah, gatekeeping the name? I get it. Softie it is."

Benjamin almost pulled away after his outburst, almost let fear ruin the moment, ruin him. But he didn't, and Pico flipped their hands over and laced their fingers together.

Slowly, gently. As if he was giving Benjamin a chance to pull away.

Benjamin didn't. He couldn't.

It was terrifying, made him want to run away and hide under the bed. But despite that, it was.. nice.

Benjamin wouldn't mind doing it again.

---

Benjamin was spiraling.

It has only been a few weeks since the handholding, Benjamin and Pico wasn't still at the same motel. This time an apartment with a weight lifted off their shoulders. No more need to run.

It was exhausting, but nice. Like a chain around Benjamins neck, one he had no idea about, was gone. He could do his weird handholding with Pico all he wanted, without fear of his parents. Where he didn't have to flinch at every shadow. Or hide away from the smell of smoke or loud stomping.

He was free, although he himself didn't realize it yet.

That didn't make loving any easier, though.

He still had his moments.

He's afraid of the closet at their apartment, avoiding it entirely and twitching when Pico goes near it. And he likes to be behind people when walking down the stairs.

Loving was still much more difficult, but not as difficult as before.

But right now? He was spiraling. Something was wrong. A deep itch under his skin that couldn't be quenched with simple handholding, Benjamin tried. It made him feel uneasy, antsy, uncomfortable. He wanted something, but the poor soul didn't know how to get it.

Oh, wait. He did know. Benjamin squirmed, hopeless to figure out just how to ask Pico.

Normally, Pico was the one to start things, like tugging Benjamin close to kiss his head, wrapping him in the warmth before Benjamin could even think about asking for it. Benjamin didn't have to do anything, just sit there and accept he was going to be peppered with kisses for several hours.

But tonight? Pico wasn't doing anything. Benjamin sat on the apartments bed. Benjamin narrowed his eyes at Pico, side eyeing him like he was guilty of a federal offense.

Pico was, apparently, unaware he was the most horrible person alive. He just sat there, fiddling with an apparently busted spray paint can. "It won't paint." Pico had told Benjamin a few hours prior. "I just got the damn can, too." He had grumbled.

Benjamin scowled, his face a grumpy mix of anger and fear. This problem wasn't Pico. It was him. Benjamin watched Pico closely- observing his every move and motion. He memorized the way Pico showed Benjamin affection. He knew the steps Pico had took every time he kissed Benjamin, or nuzzled his head, he just had to copy it.

He started small, shifting slightly closer to Pico, his fingers drumming anxiously on the bed.

Pico didn't give a reaction, and Benjamin felt deflated. He shifted closer, still no reaction. Benjamin twitched, a weird sense of anger erupting inside of Benjamin. He shifted closer again, letting his shoulder brush against Picos. Pico didn't move, didn't act like anything happened.

Benjamins stomach twisted with anxiety, was he doing it wrong? It's how Pico did it- pressed against him, natural, easy. Why wasn't it working the same for Pico?

..Maybe Pico didn't notice yet? Was it not enough? Benjamin twitched, then inhaled sharply, and suddenly tilted, pressing his forehead against Picos head.

Pico had a reaction then.

He paused.

And then Benjamin immediately began to panic. Oh fuck, oh shit, abort, abort! He retracted so fast he nearly fell off the bed. His face was on fire, what the hell, Benjamin? That was the most stupidest thing ever done! What were you thinking? He did it wrong.

The little hopeful happy moment passed, and stupid Benjamin ruined it, like everything else. Benjamin curled into himself, his hands wrapped around his stomach, trying to hide. Would this be the point Pico would hit him? Benjamin felt frustrated, embarrassed, and annoyed.

"Softie?" Picos voice filled his ears. Gentle, confused. Benjamin felt like an absolute idiot, but the achy restless feeling wouldn't go away. Benjamin clenched his jaw. Fuck it.

Before he could think- or before he could talk himself out of it, Benjamin flung himself to the side, flopping into Picos lap and curling into a ball, burying his face into Picos toned abdomen.

Pico yelped, the paint can clattered to the floor stupid fast, rolling out of site. "Gówno- Softie!" Pico yelped, his body tense.

Benjamin didn't move, although he really wanted to- his breathing shaky and uneven. His hands curled into Picos hoodie, holding him like a lifeline like all those weeks ago. Everything felt so loud, from his thoughts to his heartbeat to the god awful pressure of not knowing how to ask for something he so desperately wanted- no, needed. For the longest moment, there was only silence.

Then, softly, a sigh from Pico. A soft breath that meant nothing to Pico but everything to Benjamin. A steady hand placed itself onto Benjamins back. And Benjamin immediately melted. He forgot all about his fear, only the fact that it felt so good.

"Ohhhh.." Pico chuckled, then laughed. "I get it now." He said, beginning to rub calm circles into Benjamin spine, acting like it was the most natural thing in the world. Benjamin made a noise he had no idea he could make, just the fact that it felt nice. The relief was instant, it felt so amazing.

"You know you could've just asked, right? Used your big boy words, hm?" Pico stated, his voice full of amusement. Benjamin twitched, his face burning with pure shame. He mumbled a soft "No.." into Picos toned, hot, muscular- stop- belly.

Pico snickered, "What was that, baby?" Benjamin grunted, pressing his face deeper into Picos belly. "No.. figure it out yourself next time." Benjamin mumbled into his belly again, curling up some more.

Pico laughed, and snorted. He gently pulled Benjamin up, so he was now resting his body against Pico, their chests touching, Benjamin face in his neck. "Yeah, yeah yeah.. I got you Softie." Pico said, his hand tangling into Benjamins hair.

With that, Benjamin let himself relax. It felt nice.

Benjamin didn't know when he fell asleep, but he dreamed of happy smiles and warm hands.

----------------

Pico had zero idea how to deal with Benjamin.

Pico had his own skeletons, quiet fogs that entered his mind. Of gunshots and screams and blood and fear.

But nothing like Benjamins. Pico wasn't sure about anything when it comes to Benjamin. Benjamins skeletons in his closet were violent, of fists and fury and dark rooms and muzzles- why would someone do something to their child- and pain, caked up with 19 years, not a few hours like Pico.

Not to discredit either of their experiences. But Pico means to say is that Benjamin has much more issues with trusting Pico. Which Pico does agree, he wasn't the nicest when they met, and especially after they met- Pico being a bit of a bully to Benjamin. His asshole self not realizing that his heart was dead-set to fall in love with the male, which Pico wouldn't dare trade for the world.

The apartment was quiet, silent. The kind that comes after an exhausting day. Benjamin was hardly awake, a warm weight against near Picos side, his breathing slow and steady, halfway in the waking world, and halfway not.

They hadn't even meant to fall asleep like this, with them talking, or Pico taking, Benjamin slurring his words as he babbled about the weather and how stupid hot it is and how it might rain soon, complaining while his voice became more slurred and he inched closer to Pico with every passing minute.

Pico had expected Benjamin to flinch away, maybe fall off the bed like he sometimes did when he realized how close they were. But no, instead the little shit broke Picos brain when he settled in beside Pico, his arms loosely around his waist, fingers curling into Picos sleepshirt that exposed his muscles perfectly (which Pico has planned to make Benjamin very flustered at, its been working.)

Benjamins presence was all too familiar yet not at all. His forehead against his shoulder, his breathing soft and even and oh so very familiar, like hes done it a million times before when he certainly hasn't. Pico had no idea how to react.

He hardly moved, barely breathed even. This was extremely new to Pico. For Benjamin was a nervous wreck when it came to touch, flinching and, at one point, booked it away like a startled animal even when he wanted touch. He always hesitated, always second guessing himself, his actions, his wants.

But right now? None of that. Benjamin almost seemed grumpy, as if Pico was offending him in some way. He was just acting on instinct.

And then, before Pico could even BEGIN to understand, to process what was happening, Benjamin, the little shit, pressed closer and, without any warning or hesitation, moved and planted his lips to Picos in a barely there kiss,

Pico went completely still, and his face turned a bright red. This was so new. The kiss itself wasn't perfect, hell no, it was sloppy, unfocused, half asleep kiss that Benjamin probably wouldn't remember and, if he did, would probably think it didn't happen.

It was, however, a kiss.

Their first actual kiss to be exact.

Could you blame Pico if his brain shut down?

He would've said something, anything, ask Benjamin to explain why he wanted their first kiss to be in a half taken over by mold apartment while half asleep. But before he could Benjamin cuddled closer, murmured something completely incoherent about pancakes and a house, and passed out.

Pico had no choice but to lie there, his brain going a hundred miles per hour. Did Benjamin really just...? Had he really just- had he..

Pico closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, okay, okay. He can freak out later, maybe take a page out of Benjamins book and scream into a pillow when Benjamin wasn't dead asleep.

For now, however, he carefully adjusted his arms, pulling Benjamin closer to him, running his fingers through Benjamins soft, messy hair.

"... Night, Softie." Pico murmured to Benjamin. Twitching when Benjamin let out a snore in response. Pico sighed through his nose, staring at the ceiling. He wasn't ever going to sleep again, was he?

In the end, though, if Pico got to feel those kisses again, from the shy male, Pico could take the sleepless nights. Just to see the boy giggle.

-----

"Softie."

"Hm?"

"You are crushing my legs." Pico states, his hands tangled into Benjamins hair despite his annoyance.

"Tough, you'll live, tough guy." Benjamin states in response, not even lifting his head from where it lays on the floor. The majority of his body is in Picos lap, making himself at home despite the apparent suffocation of Picos poor legs. He's acting like a particularly stubborn cat.

Pico sighs softly, shaking his head fondly as he gently pokes Benjamins arm, lightly shaking him with every poke. "I kinda need blood flow to my lower body, you know. Kinda rude to remove that."

Benjamin pretends to think for a moment, before giggling and replying. "Thats sounds like a you problem." While shifting and somehow pressing his body even harder into Picos poor legs, which are beginning to tingle.

Pico rolls his eyes and groans, although a soft smile dares appear on his face. He lightly shifts Benjamin, releasing some pressure on his legs and wincing at the strange pulsing feeling of his blood flow begins to circulate through his legs again. He drops Benjamin again and grumbles."

"Fine, but if my legs start working and I loose them cause you decide to crush em, you're carrying me everywhere." He states, lightly poking Benjamin relentlessly.

Benjamin lightly yawns, completely unbothered by the pokes, he shifts, sighing softly in happy bliss. "Mhm, sure... whatever.." He states, lightly yawning again as he shifts again, twitching from the constant pokes. He waves his hand at Pico. "Mph, stop." He grumbles, swatting at Picos hand.

Pico narrows his eyes at Benjamin. Suspicious.

"Hold up just a second, if I tried this a few months ago, you would've freaked out, you know." Pico states after a second of silence.

"Benjamin hums softly, shifting just right to get even more comfortable. "Mhm." He grunts, shifting yet again.

Oh, this little shit.

"Thats it? Thats all you're gonna give me about that? A little "mhm"?" Pico asked, a grin on his face despite his incredulous tone, like he doesn't mind, it.

Which Pico doesn't, he never would. Seeing Benjamin smile so happy and stay all snuggled into his lap is enough for Pico, even though he is shocked Benjamin has gone from terribly shy to this.

Pico is ejected from his thoughts when Benjamin shifts, tilting his head lazily and daring to meet Picos gaze with no hesitation in his eyes, he grins lazily and pokes Picos nose.

"You're my boyfriend, aren't cha?" Benjamin asks, and Pico blinks, confused and amused.

"Uh, yeah?" He states, lightly scratching Benjamins scalp.

"Then deal with it." Benjamin states with a soft yawn, and Picos brain shuts down.

Pico blinks, stares even. His brain is no longer working.

Benjamin continued on, like he didn't say anything wrong, which he didn't. But he was also said it like it was obvious, like it wasn't the biggest deal ever. Picos fingers stilled in Benjamins hair, his brain struggling to figure it out.

Benjamin sleepily looked up at Pico, blinking even more sleepily. "Hmm? You good?" Benjamin asks, yawning yet again, completely unbothered by Picos struggles.

Pico squints again, suspicious. "Who are you?" He asked, or demanded. "What did you do to my darling Softie?" He asked, poking Benjamins side.

Benjamin giggles, squealing as he gets poked again. "This is the upgraded version, no-" He laughs again. "-No refunds!" He laughs.

"Oh, im requesting a refund all right. Imma go to the manager and demand one." Pico struggles again, trying to wiggle his legs free, but Benjamin just squirmed and pressed down more heavily onto Picos legs. "Softie, I swear to all thats holy, I am loosing feeling in my legs-"

"Mmm.. that still sounds like a you problem, mister."

Pico groans loudly and flops down onto the couch, throwing his head back onto the backrest. "This is abuse! Imma sue!" He loudly proclaims.

But Benjamin is undeterred, the little shit. He snuggles closer into Picos hoodie, sighing contently. "Mhm.. you do that Toughie. I'll.. be... here.."

A soft snore.

Pico snorts and rolls his eyes. At this point, Pico could shove him off now. He really could. But...

His arms tightened, fingers lazily scratching through Benjamins hair. He sighs, accepting his fate.

Another battle lost. But Pico didn't feel too disappointed. He felt happy, really. He didn't mind.

-----

Benjamin hadn't realized how much had changed about himself up until now.

And yet, as Benjamin sits across from Pico in a small, bustling cafè, sipping on a way-too sweet hot chocolate, he felt... normal. At peace. Happy. A few months ago he wouldn't have felt this way. He would probably be trembling, waiting anxiously for Pico to strike with thinly veiled insults and hisses of hatred. Benjamin wouldn't have been able to handle all this. Would've been too anxious around others, would have been scared to even dare hold Picos hand.

But Benjamin doesn't expect those anymore. Instead, he feels right at home.

Now, he can lazily reach across the table and gently grab Picos hand without so much as a second thought. Pico hardly flinched, barely even twitched at it. Pico simply squeezed his hand back, his fingers gently tracing Benjamins knuckles as Pico sipped his coffee while scrolling on his phone. Benjamin couldn't help but smile into his own cup. God, he snagged the perfect man.

His gaze drifted from the hot hunk of a man too the mound of whipped cream in his hot chocolate, then back at Pico, whom is way too distracted by his phone to pay attention to Benjamin.

An idea formed into Benjamins brain. A simple, but devious idea. A terribly wonderful one, dare Benjamin says.

Scooping up a tiny bit of whipped cream with his fingers, Benjamin quickly moved and dabbed it right onto Picos nose.

Later, when Benjamin does this at their wedding, Pico would be quick to do the same, slathering some onto Benjamins nose before the male could wiggle away.

Instead, however, Pico froze, and Benjamin grinned.

Pico, after a long time of silence, slowly set down his phone, licking his lips free of any coffee as he narrows his gaze dangerously to the mischievous man. "Softie." He states, dangerous, holding full of a promise.

Benjamin hummed, completely unbothered by Pico. He even giggles. "Toughie." He says softly.

"You wanna explain why you, my perfect sweet Softie, have personally attacked me?"

Benjamin giggles, deciding to play innocent. He tilts his head to the side, a soft giggle again escaping him. "I dunno what you're talking about."

"Oh. Okay." Pico rolls his eyes, although his own devious grin appearing on his face. He exhales, sending the whipped cream to splat miserably onto the table,becoming a delicious treat no more.

Pico wipes his mouth with his sleeve, removing any traces of his coffee. His expression was giving nothing away, but Benjamin could feel the shift, the distant hum in the air.

If this was months ago, Benjamin would be trembling, he would have curled into a ball and sobbed, waiting.

But, this Benjamin wasn't the same from a few months ago. This Benjamin wasn't bothered at all by the hum in the air, the hum of revenge.

Pico wasn't mad, he was plotting.

"Ya realize this means war, yeah?" Picos voice was uncomfortably casual, although Benjamin quickly picked up on the amusement in his tone.

Benjamin, snickering like the gremlin he is, leaned across the table. "Oh really? What're you gonna do, hm?"

Pico smirked in reply, lazily reaching across and grabbing his drink just as it dawned on Benjamin what Pico was about to do. Benjamin immediately leaned backwards. "Wait-" he began, but got interrupted by Pico.

"Uh-uh baby.. actions have consequences.." Pico dipped a finger into his own foam, although it was much more runny as it was coffee foam, and smeared it onto Benjamins cheek with a victorious grin on his face.

Benjamin gasped, staring at Pico in betrayal, like Pico had murdered Trashi in front of him. He wiped the whipped cream off his face as Pico cackled in delight before proceeding to silence Picos loud laughter by grabbing him and smashing their lips together in his own version of revenge.

Their kiss, although brief, was slow and deliberate, just enough to catch Pico off guard. When Benjamin finally pulled away, Picos brain was knocked offline, like their internet during a bad storm, his brain visibly buffering.

"... Thats cheating." Pico grumbled, pouting softly.

Benjamin laughed in reply. "No, that's playing smart." He said, lacing their hands together again.

Pico groaned, using his other hand to rub his eyes, as though he was in pain, but the big grin on his face gave him away. With a satisfied hum, Benjamin leaned back in his chair, hand still keeping a grip on Picos hand as his other hand sipped his now just right hot chocolate, fully at ease and unbothered by the people around them.

This was what love was supposed to be like, warm, fuzzy, carefree. And Benjamin wouldn't trade it for anything.

----

It all started with a cuddle.

Outside, rain poured steadily against the roof of the apartments small patio, rolling down the windows of it and making outside seem ever more miserable. Distant thunder rolls through the air, occasionally lighting the world up in bright flashes.

A wonderfully horrible day.

Benjamin stood by the wet railing, his hands resting on top of it as he watched rain soak into the wood and slide down the metal bits, listening to the rhythm of the downpour. Once, a long while ago, this rain, this thunder, would've made him flinch, would've made him cower and hide underneath Pico or curl into his side from the prominent fear.

Today? It was just another night.

A rough voice broke through Benjamins thoughts, a simple "You gonna stand there all night?" Making Benjamin look over and see the orange haired male he is oh so fond of.

Pico was stretched out over one of the chairs they robbed off the pavement when they got the apartment. His expression was unreadable, holding a cup of coffee, although not the one from the cafè as he watched Benjamin.

Benjamin didn't respond, only walked over and settled into Picos lap, straddling him as he buries his face into Picos shoulder, holding on tight like Pico would disappear if he moved.

Pico let out a loud bark of laughter, gently patting Benjamins head before wrapping his arms around Benjamins waist. "Damn, baby, let me finish my coffee first before you jump me, eh?"

Benjamin grumbled, daring to bury his face deeper into the mans hoodie. "Shuddup." Benjamin murmured, his voice soft but demanding.

Pico laughed again, his grin unwavering. "Make me." He stated, before yelping in surprise when sharp teeth sink into his neck in reply. "Babe?! What the-"

"Your fault." Benjamin interrupted Pico, snuggling deeper into Picos shoulder, unbothered and completely sure of his very actions.

Pico sighed, shaking his head but refusing to let go himself, as if, if he dared let go, Benjamin would fly away. Like a bird spreading its wings for the first time.

Pico's fingers move in a slow, steady rhythm against Benjamins back, tracing shapes Picos not aware of but, according to Benjamins giggles, are probably a bit vulgar. His touch grounding, familiar.

They stay like that for a long while, listening to the steady hum of the city of stars. Or, well, the soft distant hum of it, as they sit quietly on the country side. And will be moving much farther soon, with a house they finally can afford to buy.

Pico sighs softly, pressing a kiss to Benjamins head, making him jolt. But this time it's not from fear, but rather surprise, and Benjamin plants a kiss onto Picos head, too.

Pico smiles. "Yaknow, if I tried this months ago, you'd have bolted." Pico says, knowing that he's been repeating that often lately, but Pico cannot wrap his head around Benjamins transformation.

Benjamin, going from a scared deathly thin teen with a mop of blue hair on his head. Benjamin, with his ribs showing and untreated and some infected marks on his skin- whips, knifes, burn marks, slashes, self harm scratches and lines that won't ever vanish but are testament to his very strength. Benjamin, who looked so lost and scared of everything like he was experiencing everything for the first time.

To Benjamin, who's now lean but with a weight to him, even almost chubby. Benjamin, who has a very fluffy head of hair that, if painted green, would've made him look like broccoli. Benjamin, whose marks from years of abuse have faded but they still remain, and of which Benjamin is proud to show, a victory to his escape.

Pico's snapped from his thoughts when Benjamin gives a weak "Mhm," something that made him grin and laugh. "Oh? All i get is a mhm?"

"Mhm.. mph." Benjamin shifted softly, his thoughts calmed and relaxed.

"You know, you're so rude, Sunflower." Pico says again.

Benjamin grumbles and pulls back away from Picos nice shoulder to meet Pico's eyes. His gaze is sleepy, once more. Unbothered even more so. He looks like all he wishes to do is curl up and sleep the rest of the day away.

"Pico." Benjamin murmurs, yawning while Pico snickers.

"What?" Pico asked, cheeky as all hell.

"Shut up."

With that, Benjamin leaned over and placed a warm kiss to Picos lips again, this one much deeper, much more meaningful. It's soft, unhurried, unbothered. With no hesitation or second guessing. It's just steady and sure.

Picos brain, as always, shuts off. Oops.

Benjamin pulled away, way too soon for Picos liking as Pico makes a squeak of outrage that got him one more kiss, before Benjamin settles his head back onto Picos shoulder, like it never happened.

Pico blinked, too kisses in a row? Unreal.

He stares at the rain outside, the rain which still beats in its own musical way, unperturbed by the loving family it falls under.

"Yeah.." Pico murmured, his arms tightening around Benjamin as the rain continued on outside, all thoughts lost to the rain outside. "Night, Softie."

Pico wasn't ever going to recover from it. Not that Pico minds, nor does Benjamin.

Because, for the first time in Benjamins life, loving someone, and love in general, wasn't something he had to brace from. Or cower in fear.

It just was

And that? That was enough.