Fic Exchange: Best Served Cold
Woo, squeaking in under the deadline! Written for stargazer_abeo's fic exchange.
Title: Best Served Cold
Rating: PG
Summary: Ben and Kevin go camping. In the middle of winter. :D; 1143 words.
Written for hidan_seme by ad_exia.
Best Served Cold
“So tell me again why camping outside in the snow is a good idea?”
“Because!” Ben insisted, peeking out of his sleeping bag to look at Kevin across the small space in their tent (which might as well not have been there, for all the good it was doing at keeping out the cold, Kevin thought). “Grandpa Max used to take me all the time! It builds character! Or something…”
Kevin snorted. “I think I got enough character built up, thanks.” He hunched down in his own (Ben-supplied) sleeping bag a bit more, wishing he could feel his toes. He was already wearing four pairs of socks, but both feet had gone numb hours ago before he’d even taken his shoes off to wrap himself in the sleeping bag.
“Come on,” Ben said, in the same way he’d said it earlier with one exception - they had been inside and warm then. “It’s not so bad!”
“Oh, it’s plenty bad,” Kevin grumbled, sinking even further into his sleeping bag and wondering what the chances were of sneaking off in the middle of the night to someplace where he wouldn’t freeze his ass off as soon as Tennyson was sound asleep.
*
As it happened, Kevin woke in the middle of the night to silence. Absolute silence. He peered across the darkness of the tent and realized what was wrong: Ben was gone.
For a second Kevin’s outside wasn’t the only thing that was frozen - his inside felt like a block of ice as well as his heart sped up and a million thoughts, none of them good, began to race through his mind. Had there been an attacker? Had Ben gone off on some half-cocked mission without waking him? What was going on?
But a minute later, Kevin managed to take a deep (freezing) breath and collect his wits. Ben probably had to pee or something, Kevin reasoned. It was probably no big deal. All the same, now that he was awake and aware of the other’s absence, he couldn’t just go back to sleep like there was nothing wrong. Now he was curious. He had to make sure Ben was okay - because Ben was a scrawny kid and he might have the Omnitrix but that didn’t mean he could take care of himself all the time. That was it. Right.
Crawling out of his sleeping bag and biting back a few choice curses as the freezing air snuck beneath his layers of clothing, Kevin crept over to the tent flap and pulled it aside. Outside the night was still and silent; there was no wind and the moon was nearly full, casting eerie silver shadows through the barren woods.
Ben was easy enough to track in the snow. His footprints were crisp and clear and new in the moonlit snow, and they led from the front flap of their tent around their meager firepit and into…
The Rust Bucket II. The pair had taken it instead of Kevin’s camaro (after all, Kevin wasn’t going to drive his baby into the middle of the frozen woods, no way, that was just plain crazy) and had parked it maybe fifty yards away from their meager campsite. And now Kevin stood at the battered door of the camper and stared as Ben Tennyson’s footprints clearly disappeared at its threshold.
That little twerp had gone inside after he was so insistent that they sleep ouside in the freezing-ass cold. Kevin was going to kill him.
There were no lights on in the camper, so it wasn’t like Ben even had the excuse that he’d gone to use the bathroom. No, he’d abandoned the tent and Kevin and snuck into the camper to sleep in relative comfort - probably with a heater or an electric blanket or any of the other hundred things Kevin had wished for while he froze in that Godforsaken tent.
And so naturally, he found himself staring at the door and plotting his revenge. Because he was going to get revenge. Ben couldn’t pull this shit on him and expect him to just laugh it off, now could he? No - no he most certainly could not.
Creeping around the silent vehicle, Kavin glanced along its awning until he found what he was looking for. Grinning to himself, he pulled off three layers of mittens before he reached up and let his fingers trail along the edge of the frame. Then, keeping his hand down and out of sight, he slipped into the camper as silently as the ancient, rusted door would allow.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside, but as they did Kevin turned left and headed for the back of the camper, where the beds were located. And ah, yes, here was Ben - curled tightly into a ball beneath a layer of woolen blankets, his sleep-mussed hair just visible in the fold of the bedclothes. Reaching down, Kevin undid the laces on his boots left-handed before he tugged gently at the covers until he had enough room to slide beneath them and curl around the sleeping form of Ben Tennyson.
Of course, Ben didn’t stay asleep for long - he might be a little hopeless sometimes, but he’d still seen plenty of battles and he woke at the movement, his body going stiff just before Kevin pulled the blankets around them, his right arm resting on top of them.
“Wh - Kevin?” Ben whispered tensely, until Kevin shifted beside him and made a soothing noise in the back of his throat.
“I see someone can’t bring himself to practice what he preaches,” Kevin said softly, slipping his left arm under Ben’s beneath the blankets so that he could pull the younger boy’s back more flush against his chest. Beneath the layers of blankets it was warm, made warmer by the heat radiating from Ben’s body and somewhere in the back of his mind Kevin acknowledged that this was actually pretty nice. He was comfortable here, even if he was in bed with another guy - with Ben.
“Uh,” was all Ben said for a minute. Kevin could just imagine the other boy’s face going red, the way it would reach all the way to his ears and spread down his neck, hot at red… “I - uh, sorry, Kevin…”
Kevin chuckled softly. “Eh, what’cha got to be sorry for?” he asked, shifting again as he slipped his other hand down into the blankets, ghosting it past Ben’s shoulder to his waist and carefully, so carefully under the hem of his shirt.
Ben yelped loudly, convulsing as ice-coated fingers slid up his spine. Kevin just smirked, and whispered in Ben’s ear (as best he could, without getting whacked in the nose with the back of Ben’s skull), “After all, I’m here t’get you back.”
Title: Best Served Cold
Rating: PG
Summary: Ben and Kevin go camping. In the middle of winter. :D; 1143 words.
Written for hidan_seme by ad_exia.
Best Served Cold
“So tell me again why camping outside in the snow is a good idea?”
“Because!” Ben insisted, peeking out of his sleeping bag to look at Kevin across the small space in their tent (which might as well not have been there, for all the good it was doing at keeping out the cold, Kevin thought). “Grandpa Max used to take me all the time! It builds character! Or something…”
Kevin snorted. “I think I got enough character built up, thanks.” He hunched down in his own (Ben-supplied) sleeping bag a bit more, wishing he could feel his toes. He was already wearing four pairs of socks, but both feet had gone numb hours ago before he’d even taken his shoes off to wrap himself in the sleeping bag.
“Come on,” Ben said, in the same way he’d said it earlier with one exception - they had been inside and warm then. “It’s not so bad!”
“Oh, it’s plenty bad,” Kevin grumbled, sinking even further into his sleeping bag and wondering what the chances were of sneaking off in the middle of the night to someplace where he wouldn’t freeze his ass off as soon as Tennyson was sound asleep.
*
As it happened, Kevin woke in the middle of the night to silence. Absolute silence. He peered across the darkness of the tent and realized what was wrong: Ben was gone.
For a second Kevin’s outside wasn’t the only thing that was frozen - his inside felt like a block of ice as well as his heart sped up and a million thoughts, none of them good, began to race through his mind. Had there been an attacker? Had Ben gone off on some half-cocked mission without waking him? What was going on?
But a minute later, Kevin managed to take a deep (freezing) breath and collect his wits. Ben probably had to pee or something, Kevin reasoned. It was probably no big deal. All the same, now that he was awake and aware of the other’s absence, he couldn’t just go back to sleep like there was nothing wrong. Now he was curious. He had to make sure Ben was okay - because Ben was a scrawny kid and he might have the Omnitrix but that didn’t mean he could take care of himself all the time. That was it. Right.
Crawling out of his sleeping bag and biting back a few choice curses as the freezing air snuck beneath his layers of clothing, Kevin crept over to the tent flap and pulled it aside. Outside the night was still and silent; there was no wind and the moon was nearly full, casting eerie silver shadows through the barren woods.
Ben was easy enough to track in the snow. His footprints were crisp and clear and new in the moonlit snow, and they led from the front flap of their tent around their meager firepit and into…
The Rust Bucket II. The pair had taken it instead of Kevin’s camaro (after all, Kevin wasn’t going to drive his baby into the middle of the frozen woods, no way, that was just plain crazy) and had parked it maybe fifty yards away from their meager campsite. And now Kevin stood at the battered door of the camper and stared as Ben Tennyson’s footprints clearly disappeared at its threshold.
That little twerp had gone inside after he was so insistent that they sleep ouside in the freezing-ass cold. Kevin was going to kill him.
There were no lights on in the camper, so it wasn’t like Ben even had the excuse that he’d gone to use the bathroom. No, he’d abandoned the tent and Kevin and snuck into the camper to sleep in relative comfort - probably with a heater or an electric blanket or any of the other hundred things Kevin had wished for while he froze in that Godforsaken tent.
And so naturally, he found himself staring at the door and plotting his revenge. Because he was going to get revenge. Ben couldn’t pull this shit on him and expect him to just laugh it off, now could he? No - no he most certainly could not.
Creeping around the silent vehicle, Kavin glanced along its awning until he found what he was looking for. Grinning to himself, he pulled off three layers of mittens before he reached up and let his fingers trail along the edge of the frame. Then, keeping his hand down and out of sight, he slipped into the camper as silently as the ancient, rusted door would allow.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside, but as they did Kevin turned left and headed for the back of the camper, where the beds were located. And ah, yes, here was Ben - curled tightly into a ball beneath a layer of woolen blankets, his sleep-mussed hair just visible in the fold of the bedclothes. Reaching down, Kevin undid the laces on his boots left-handed before he tugged gently at the covers until he had enough room to slide beneath them and curl around the sleeping form of Ben Tennyson.
Of course, Ben didn’t stay asleep for long - he might be a little hopeless sometimes, but he’d still seen plenty of battles and he woke at the movement, his body going stiff just before Kevin pulled the blankets around them, his right arm resting on top of them.
“Wh - Kevin?” Ben whispered tensely, until Kevin shifted beside him and made a soothing noise in the back of his throat.
“I see someone can’t bring himself to practice what he preaches,” Kevin said softly, slipping his left arm under Ben’s beneath the blankets so that he could pull the younger boy’s back more flush against his chest. Beneath the layers of blankets it was warm, made warmer by the heat radiating from Ben’s body and somewhere in the back of his mind Kevin acknowledged that this was actually pretty nice. He was comfortable here, even if he was in bed with another guy - with Ben.
“Uh,” was all Ben said for a minute. Kevin could just imagine the other boy’s face going red, the way it would reach all the way to his ears and spread down his neck, hot at red… “I - uh, sorry, Kevin…”
Kevin chuckled softly. “Eh, what’cha got to be sorry for?” he asked, shifting again as he slipped his other hand down into the blankets, ghosting it past Ben’s shoulder to his waist and carefully, so carefully under the hem of his shirt.
Ben yelped loudly, convulsing as ice-coated fingers slid up his spine. Kevin just smirked, and whispered in Ben’s ear (as best he could, without getting whacked in the nose with the back of Ben’s skull), “After all, I’m here t’get you back.”