5 - The Aftermath

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Everything was gentle when it came to Benji and Jorge.

Gentle words, soft and whispering. Gentle touches, fingertips skimming the skin of each other as they moved carefully. Gentle gazes, short and fleeting, but still there.

Benji found that he couldn't take his eyes off the younger boy, and he had no idea as to why. Maybe it was because of the soft curls that always seemed to bounce lazily in front of his dark brown eyes, or the heavy accent that masked his mumbled words that seemed to make him too innocent for this world. Perhaps it was the fact that Jorge had trusted him enough, someone he'd never known before, to cry on his shoulder.

But then again, who really could blame him?

Jorge sat on the sink, finally calmed down by the time Benji stopped the bleeding from his eyebrow, and waited patiently as Benji pulled out a band-aid to gently press it on the cut. His fingertips slowly skimmed the edges of Jorge's face when he finished, causing both of their faces to heat up at the realization of how close they'd been since the fight. For a moment, Benji looked away shyly, but seeing as how he couldn't keep his eyes off the boy for very long, his gaze lingered back. 

Jorge's feet hung off the side of the sink, baggy pants brushing up against Benji's leg as he swung them back and forth in a sluggish way. The foundation that Benji had wiped off Jorge's cheek had uncovered a large bruise on his face, somehow formed in the shape of a palm: but something told Benji that he shouldn't ask about that just yet. He didn't want to scare off the already-terrified boy. Jorge's chest was pale and bare, but Benji's jacket covered most of him. His gaze stopped at Jorge's neck, which seemed to be more black and purple than it had been before. How hadn't he noticed that?

Jorge must've realized where he was staring, because immediately, he covered it as best as possible with the jacket.

"Can you... can you get my shirt?" Jorge timidly asked, looking up to meet the eyes of the curious boy. With a small nod, Benji walked back into the stall to grab his shirt, helping Jorge take off his jacket and waiting for him to get dressed.

Benji sighed, leaning against the sink as Jorge leaned against the mirror, his breath fogging up the reflection as he blankly stared at it. Benji waited a moment before he spoke.

"Benji," he mumbled. Jorge's head lifted off the mirror as he looked down at the older boy, who was now staring up at him. "My name's Benji." Jorge spared him a tired nod of the head, laying his forehead back against the cold surface. Everything hurt. His head, his hair, his neck, his abdomen. The pain seemed to throb through his body in waves, each doubling in size as they swept through him from head to toe. Jorge began to feel dizzy as Benji finally noticed the boy's condition, worse than the originally thought.

"I'll take you to the nurse," Benji proclaimed, leaving his leaned-back position on the sink and holding out a hand to help Jorge down. Jorge sluggishly shook his head in disagreement. Benji, confused, asked, "why not? I could only stop the bleeding, what if you have a concussion? And your bruises, your neck, your face... just... please, please trust me." Despite Benji's pleas, Jorge still shook his head.

"They can't know," Jorge mumbled, staring down at his whitening knuckles as he clutched Benji's jacket in his hands.

"They can't know what?" Benji asked, pulling his large hand through his hair in exasperation when Jorge didn't answer. "Jorge, c'mon. Work with me here."

Jorge felt his heart speed up when Benji spoke his name in a coaxing tone. It wasn't angry, or annoyed - it was just soft and sweet, like honey and butter. Kaden had never used that tone with him - he'd always been rushed, or annoyed.

Quietly, Jorge answered. "They'll ask."

"About what?"

"You know what..."

It took Benji a minute to understand what Jorge was saying, but the time he realized, Jorge had already hopped off the sink and grabbed his shattered phone, limping towards the exit of the bathroom in small steps as he clutched the walls for balance. Benji ran after him, placing a warm hand on Jorge's shoulder to stop him.

"You can barely walk... just... what if you're seriously hurt?" Benji worriedly asked, his hand gently tightening on Jorge's arm in a protective manner. "If you don't want to go to the nurse's office, just... let me take you home, or something, so you can rest. It's the least I could do."

Jorge hesitated, contemplating the idea as he leaned back on the wall. The chances of Kaden being home during the middle of the day were slim, especially on a Monday. Jorge could get home before his boyfriend and do his best to make something to please him, such as making a beautiful dinner, so their inevitable conversation might not be as harsh as expected.

Benji took Jorge's silence as a yes, so he held out his arm for Jorge to hold on too. 

"I'll help you," he spoke, waiting for Jorge to lean his weight on him before he began to walk out of the bathroom. "Let's get out the hell out of here."

...

Jorge thought he'd feel bad about skipping PE, but in reality, it felt somewhat... exhilarating.

First of all, he didn't know how he would've covered the bruise that stretched across his neck with the flimsy gym clothes he had. Second, his class consisted mostly of the bullies who had jumped him and homophobic people who had seen the video that had been posted about him and Kaden. Third... well, Jorge just despised PE. He'd never been that athletic.

It was quiet in the car, and it seemed like something important was on Benji's mind as he just barely followed the directions Jorge had given to him. It seemed as if the shock of what had just happened caught up with the pair, and they were both left to dwell with the weight that was now on their shoulders in the quiet atmosphere of the car.

Jorge couldn't help but feel sorry for himself. It seemed as if everyone around him hated him to the point that they hurt him - except for Syd, of course, and Benji, which was confusing for the younger boy. He'd never met Benji before today. He'd only seen him in a few of his classes, like English and Spanish, but had never talked to him. The friends he hung out with always were mean to Jorge, so he just assumed Benji was like them, which made Jorge feel guilty. Why would he judge him before he even knew him?

Benji, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about Liam and the group of people who had attacked the smaller boy. How did homophobic people still exist? Like, do they have anything else better to do than worry and bitch about other people's lives? Other people's happiness? other people's choices? It has nothing to do with them - and honestly, it's 2019. Who gives a shit about it, anyways? And Liam... Liam was gay. Liam had come out to Benji during sophomore year, but as far as he knew, Benji was the only one who knew. 

He also couldn't get the image of Jorge out of his mind - curled up in the corner of the stall, beaten and bloody, visibly shaking as he sobbed and hugged himself tightly. The mere thought of that moment made his hands tighten around the steering wheel, knuckles turning pink and then white from the pressure as he tried to keep his cool. 

Soon enough, the pair finally drove into the parking lot in front of Jorge's apartment, where they parked and sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Jorge's heart began to beat faster as he noticed that, from his window, the lamp was on. He either forgot to switch it off when he and Kaden left, or...

"Benji?" There is was, Jorge's cute accented voice. The simple whisper of his name coming from Jorge's lips made Benji's heart speed up to a dangerous pace, and he had no clue as to why.

"Y-Yes?" Benji stuttered, his eyes still glued to the pavement in front of him as he avoided looking Jorge.

"Can you come in with me?" 


... 

70 to 300+ reads overnight? anna oop -

for real tho, thank you to all of those who read my stories..it means so much. i love reading all of your comments, so please
comment as much as u want xD

love you xx

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