You make me sick.

oh_five @ 2004-08-06T12:18:00

2004-08-06T19:05:23Z

gc.
100 words
challenge 6: whisper (minusthe__text)

When Joel asked him to be his roadie, Benji didn't need an explanation. To Benji, it meant Joel couldn’t live without him.

-

Benji lives in motels with five other roommates. Sometimes the water shuts off and Benji can’t take a shower. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. To Benji, this means Joel is committed.

-

Benji knows back seats but Benji understands.

-

When Joel says, "You give good head," Benji hears, "I need you."

When Joel says, "On your knees," Benji hears, "I love you."

And Benji is happy.

-

When Benji whispers, “This is a fairytale,” Joel says, “You really should leave.”

oh_five @ 2004-07-01T13:40:00

2004-07-01T20:27:53Z

Before school he’s on the bus and he says, “Benji,” over your shoulder.

Before you wake he’s in your dreams and he says, “Benji,” with his hands on your stomach.

-----
You’re seventeen and at night you take a short cut through red grass and reaching trees. There’s a cafe with a pink neon heart in the window where coffee and beer become your secret.

And after your hour inside, you step out into three o’clock air, foggy with insomnia yet clear with caffeine. He’s there, waiting with his hands in his back pockets, waiting against your brick wall that leads to his black alleyway.

-----
Before school he’s on the bus and he asks, “How does it feel?” while laughing with his shredded friends.

Before you wake he’s in your dreams and he doesn’t have to ask.

-----
You wear white starched shirts and you would have made Mother proud with all the buttons you’ve re-sewn.

-----
You’re plain. He’s painted.

oh_five @ 2004-01-22T18:47:00

2004-01-23T02:35:29Z

joel. songfic challenge given by sifelaver. Don't expect much out of this one.

Back when you were still in high school and working two jobs, Aaron used to warn you. He’d say, "Joel, if you don’t slow down, you’ll burn out," and you always answered in a laugh. You told him you only lived once. You told him you were going to be famous. You were right.

But so was he.

-
December 17th brought your favorite.

"And no current to sweep
Broken hearts away"

You’d like to think you could smell the ocean in the ink.

-
Every morning you wake up to the rude reality of poverty. Once, you were rich. Once, you fucking lived. Now, three years later, you’re still paying off debts and you have just enough money to live in your shitty apartment.

This morning isn’t any different. You’re wrapped in grimy sheets and fading memories when the alarm goes off. You dress in the same clothes you’ve worn all week and drag yourself down stairs. One hour later, you’re stocking shelves.

But it’s the walk home that starts your heart pounding.

-
In March, you dreamt of the desert.

"Which is empty, inhabited by
Shadows etched in dust"

You never needed a sunset more in your life.

-
You don’t miss the money, or the cars, or the chicks, or even the fame as much as you miss Benji. He was always with you. You never had to live a moment without him until he fell in love. Late at night, he’d keep you up with his hopeful future and you tried not to worry.

But Aaron called you crazy and left. Benji almost went with him.

-
You check the mail and find another. Everyday they’re waiting for you and you can’t look, you won’t let yourself look until you’re home. You can’t cry in public.

They’re always in the same perfect print without a return address. You wish, every time, for a clue. And every time, you’re shit out of luck.

"And nothing to tempt us when we cross
With despairing hearts."

Your kitchen is plastered in fading postcards.

-
When everything seemed to come in handfuls and Benji began to disappear for days at a time, you worked hard and partied harder. You’d snort coke in club bathrooms just to show off your rolled hundred dollar bill. Everything began and ended with Benji, Benji, Benji. It seemed perfect.

One day, you woke to an empty house and fifteen counts of sexual assault. Nothing was perfect.

-
The first one showed up on your birthday.

"This is how
To light a New York City stove,
With care and precision,
To scorch frozen hands,
And flicker, ephemeral,
Across faces smeared with
Non-linear American dirt"

And they’ve never stopped. Every week. Every Sunday. It’s your religion.

-
You’re only left with memories and you have all the time in the world to think. Aaron made sure of it. Aaron, you haven’t seen him in years, and he’s the one that’s under your skin. He won’t let you forget your mistakes because it isn’t your brother’s handwriting with a signed LOVE, BENJI AND AARON! at the bottom of the postcards.

It’s his.

oh_five @ 2004-01-15T15:47:00

2004-01-15T23:56:09Z

joel/billy. au. challenge at hello_distance

There’s a winter school lunch and a boy named Billy. It’s an unsuspecting day and then there are screams and nails and a crowd of onlookers. He almost can’t hear the, "You asshole, you fucking bitch, if you think my dad is gonna be a fag now, I’d rather die," and then there’s the teacher, the one every student loves, who drags his son off, kicking and screaming. The boy is still there, alone with a ripped shirt and technicolor bruises. His name is Lolita. He’s 17. And after school, he’s at Mr. Madden’s house ten minutes before he resigns.

oh_five @ 2004-01-09T15:44:00

2004-01-09T23:55:33Z

When you were twelve, Benji bought a notebook. It was decorated in "KEEP OUT!" scribbles with the occasional "this means you, Joel" scratched in tiny letters. You found it, one day, hidden under his mattress. You could almost taste your curiosity. Benji wasn't supposed to have secrets. But it was blank, brand new, except for one thing you've never forgotten all these years.

"There's always a beginning."

When I get finished with this thing, anyone want to beta it for me?

oh_five @ 2004-01-03T14:08:00

2004-01-03T22:18:11Z

413pm. I decided on an actual journal. If 413pm "friends" you, it's me.

oh_five @ 2003-12-31T00:32:00

2003-12-31T08:43:39Z

Benji/Billy/Aaron. Murder. Oh how I hate this.

I.
Your life was missing. These three years you can’t place in your memory. You remember when everything was shit. You remember when Joel would climb into your bed at fifteen because the electricity had been shut off. It was always warmer with two bodies. You remember the jobs you had after school. You remember this boy with blond hair and blue eyes but you can’t exactly make out his face and when you ask Joel, Joel tells you not to worry even though the mystery boy in a football jersey haunts your dreams. You remember when you first picked up a guitar. After that, everything is gone. Erased.

Once you saw a spark of recognition in Billy’s eyes. You dreamt, later that night, of pulling out each one of his perfectly manicured nails with pliers. You began keeping a pair under your pillow.

Joel always told you not to worry. Paul never knew what you were talking about. Billy always answered your questions with a flat "I can’t." And you never asked Chris because you never knew where the hell he came from.

The lack of answers found you in tears.

II.
You woke up one morning and the bus was covered in books. On the couch, in the kitchen, spilling out the top bunk, littering countertops, stacked on the TV. They were all mysteries and they were all written by Agatha Christie. You stood in awe until Paul walked by and explained it to you.

Billy had found a new obsession.

III.
For weeks, Billy was on the floor, surrounded by office supplies. Index cards (color coded) sat in high piles. A highlighter behind one ear, a green Sharpie behind the other, and a black pen writing furiously. Billy sat deep in thought. You didn’t want to disturb him.

The books still fluttered on every available surface. Now, they were dog-eared and marked on. They were no longer new and the ruffled pages made you shudder.

IV.
You used to dance with the thought of solving your own mystery. You used to read Agatha Christie. You used to seek out clues hoping that they would lead you to that one thing you lost so many years ago. You just couldn’t remember what it was.

V.
It took you a while but you finally realized Billy was making his own mystery.

Something was going to happen and Joel was going to put a stop to it. His eyes grew darker each day. Joel was mad. He whispered stories about Dad that had you screaming but the blood in your mouth was strangely comforting.

VI.
Once upon a time, you thought. Once upon a time- and you couldn’t finish. A piece was missing. If only you could finish your fairy tale, maybe then everything would right itself. Maybe then you’d find the reason for the scarred A on your hip.

Joel burned old photographs at night. You weren’t allowed to see the subject.

VII.
And then, one day, you woke up in Maryland. The last thing you remembered was California and then you opened your eyes and everything had changed. You were across the US in your childhood home, in the twin bed you used to share with your brother. Downstairs, it smelled like breakfast.

You stretched and yawned, making your way to the bathroom.

That’s where you found Chris.

VIII.
He was in the bathtub, dressed in a Halloween angel costume. His halo sat, crooked and bent, on his head. Taped to a shower tile was a post-it. CLUE ONE. It was smeared with blood.

You vomited in the sink and it flecked the mirror.

IX.
Paul was in the hallway. CLUE TWO written in green on the wall above his head. There was foam coming out of his mouth.

X.
Sarah was in her bedroom. She looked peaceful. CLUE THREE.

XI.
Dad was sprawled across your mother’s bed. Joel was propped up against the closet. You found their teeth in a water glass on the bed stand. CLUES FOUR AND FIVE. In Joel’s fist, you found a map. The route you were to take had been highlighted.

Somewhere along the way, you realized that death wasn’t a clue. You wondered if Billy really knew this.

XII.
You stepped over Mom’s body in the kitchen and kept your eyes away from her face as you made your way to the garage. Charred human flesh, you found out, smelled strangely like pork.

CLUE SIX.

XIII.
Tony and Josh were in one car, the windows rolled down, the engine on. You opted for the other car and waved away fumes. CLUE SEVEN. CLUE EIGHT.

XIV.
Full tank of gas. Your memories were coming back

You always loved the mountains.

XV.
When the map ended and your car stopped, they were waiting for you. The lake and sunset in the background, the cabin to the left. Billy was smiling, hair tangled in blood and dirt. But there was the other one. The blond.

You remember now. Aaron.

oh_five @ 2003-12-22T12:12:00

2003-12-22T20:20:33Z

prettyasfuck

oh_five @ 2003-12-04T15:51:00

2003-12-04T23:53:49Z

( green )

oh_five @ 2003-12-02T15:41:00

2003-12-02T23:42:53Z

Benji/Joel. Fanboy!Benji. Rockstar!Joel

Benji pauses. His heart speeds up and his body freezes. The excitement sends his head spinning and Joel's voice hits its peak from inside the concert. Joel. Joel Madden. Benji shivers just thinking about what it would feel like to be so close to a rockstar. Although, more importantly, Benji shivers thinking about what's going to happen. He's never done this before but he's played and replayed this moment so many times in his mind that everything should be perfect. WILL be perfect, he tries to reassure himself.

He takes a deep breath and moves to his place against the wall, the exit close by. That door holds his future and Benji smiles, hearing the distant echo of Joel's voice carrying throughout the night.

It's cold, freezing cold, and Benji isn't wearing a sweater. It's been an hour since the concert ended and for a while he had to share his space with a few teenies. They gave up quickly but Benji isn't easy swayed. He'll stay there all night if he's forced. Benji isn't a teenie.

Just when he's about to give up hope, he remembers the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket and grabs for them. With one in his mouth, his hands pat his body, desperately searching for a lighter and then suddenly there's warmth crossing his face.

When Benji looks up, the cigarette falls and he barely catches it in time. Joel smiles, "Need a light?"

Benji tries smiling back. He's not going to scream. He's not going to scream because Benji isn't a teenie. He nods, his eyes flickering to the boy in the background. The bass player. The one with the most disapproving frown on his face. Billy.

"Not again, Joel." He whispers but Benji can still hear him. "Fuck, give this one a break." Joel waves his hand, like swatting away a fly and then suddenly Billy's gone. Benji doesn't miss him. Benji doesn't miss him because Benji isn't a teenie.

"Cold?" Joel asks and Benji smiles again, gratified.

"Fuck yeah." Breathe, Benji. Breathe.

Joel nods his head towards a limo, not the bus, and Benji is grateful. "Then let's go someplace warm."

When Benji is on his knees, his face buried in Joel's lap, the most amazing thoughts fly into his head. Joel is going to take him away. They're going to fall in love and Benji won't have to work another day in his life. They're going to grow old together and Benji can't wait for it all to happen because it IS going to happen. It’s going to happen because Benji isn’t a teenie.

But what Benji doesn't know, what Benji's mind doesn't want him to hear, is that when Joel comes, he whispers his own name.

oh_five @ 2003-11-30T20:12:00

2003-12-01T04:14:35Z

Benji/Joel. Written for prbil

Benji remembers in the beginning when everything was sweet and innocent. He remembers when finding those index cards, post-it notes, wadded up pieces of paper, just really any paper material available, was special. It was like finding the way inside Joel's head and it made Benji shiver each time he found his own name scribbled in that chicken scratch- over punctuated- handwriting.

Benji believed it was Joel leaving him clues in black ink and Benji's life seemed to consist of just a few words. Love. Ben. Benjamin. Benji. Benj. Joel. Benji and Joel. Lovers. Sex. Home. Benji. Home. We made love.

But then things began to change. We made love became we had sex which then morphed into we fucked. Benji started picking up tiny bits of ripped up paper. It was a puzzle and each time those few pieces were assembled, Benji ran to the bathroom and prayed. Fuck. Fucker. Incest. I fucked my twin. Good. Damn. Dirty. Naughty. Scream for me. Bitch. Blood. I want to hit him so so badly.

But Benji ignored it because, thankfully enough, it was just Joel's mind and Joel's body was saying a whole different thing. Joel would come down the stairs in the morning. He'd smile and Benji would pass him the box of cereal. It was domestic and safe. Joel was familiar and Benji wasn't giving that up for anything. Nothing was going to scare him away from his routine.

When Benji found himself unrolling a wadded up napkin with the words I FUCKED BILLY AND PAUL AND AARON AND TONY AND MATT AND AND AND written in huge letters, Benji's smile faltered. He walked slowly into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. He whispered reassurances to himself, pressing his hands together. He prayed until his lips bled and Joel's pounding on the door became a distant roar, but Benji held his ground and his hands never fell with Joel's rosary caught between.

oh_five @ 2003-11-23T13:54:00

2003-11-23T21:56:07Z

Benji/Joel. Drabble. Written for the hello_distance challenge of "Golden Boy."

You don’t know how it worked. It’s impossible now, with all the controversy. Those religious activists would probably tear you apart if they knew. But it was possible and you were the first. The geniuses found your mother. She fit every requirement. Poor, single, begging for money even if it meant giving up her son to science. You were four months and they drew your blood every day for a month and suddenly he appeared. Your twin. But the experiments stopped. Something went wrong when he was born in the lab but to you, he was perfect. He was golden.

oh_five @ 2003-11-15T23:08:00

2003-11-16T07:10:16Z

Billy/Joel. Benji/Joel. Aaron/Benji.

It was Benji’s idea. If asked, he’d admit it. He was losing his twin and in Benji’s mind, drastic measures had to be taken. Billy was always in the way. Always. Not that Benji didn’t like Billy, he did. Not that he blamed Billy, he didn’t. Then again, he did. Mostly Benji blamed Joel, blamed him for lying and cheating, blamed him for everything, but the idea wasn’t a punishment. It was just a simple decision on Joel’s part. Maybe life or death for Benji and Billy, but mainly a choice Joel was bound to make sooner or later. Benji just helped speed up the process.

Billy was sick. He was depressed and anorexic and he cut. Benji knew why. Billy didn’t want to be gay. Billy was one of the most feminine guys ever, yet avoided his own sexuality like the plague. Unfortunately for them both, Billy had fallen for Joel and even more unfortunate, Joel fell for Billy.

Benji had a plan. Tony and his bad back came almost too coincidentally. A quick blow job, Tony asleep, and Benji taking every pill bottle in sight. He grabbed Matt’s own stash and everything was falling into place so easily. Joel had already invited Billy over, but wait. Joel had other plans for the evening with Aaron and Paul and someone had forgot to call Billy and cancel.

Benji promised that Joel should be home any minute and Billy decided to stay and wait. They talked, just like old times. They talked until Benji brought it up. A few choice words of "hell" and "eternal damnation" and Billy was already bawling. He then showed Billy the pill bottles and told him they’d do it together. He told Billy he didn’t want to be gay either. He told Billy that this was the only way for both of them.

They spread them out on the table, hundreds of little white, blue, pink, brown pills and counted them out with Billy constantly sniffling. Half and half, give or take a few. Benji went first. He chased a few handfuls with a beer and it wasn’t so bad, he decided. Billy raised his palm and Benji watched in anticipation as the pills moved against each other on his skin. I don’t want to lose Joel, Billy whispered and Benji got frustrated. Me neither, he said, and shoved the pills down Billy’s throat. Billy did the rest
himself.

When Joel came home, he threw his keys on the counter and Benji, in his haze, heard the familiar sound of metal on metal. Billy was writhing on the floor next him but stayed silent. Everything seemed in slow motion but it could just be the drugs, Benji realized. Then it happened. Joel walked into the living and everything seemed to fall. It was the decision. It was a sharp intake of breath and an oh my god and Joel was moving.

Towards Billy.

Benji closed his eyes. It didn’t go as planned but at least he knew. There were going to be no more lies, promising both of them the world. There were going to be no more empty nights when Benji knew Joel was fucking Billy. Benji was going to die and he just wanted to shut out Joel’s voice, Joel’s oh god, oh shit, oh christ, please wake up, please Billy, please. The world was fading in and out of Benji’s eyes but he could see Joel carrying Billy’s limp body away and he could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks.

He could see Aaron’s distressed face and he could feel himself being lifted.

oh_five @ 2003-11-13T15:19:00

2003-11-13T23:24:14Z

Aaron/Benji.

Every night, Benji takes a drink for everyone who’s ever touched him. Then he takes a pill for everyone of those who Aaron destroyed. Benji counts them out loud and every night, Aaron laughs and calls him a whore.

“Dad.” One swig.

“Joel.” Another.

“Dan.” The football player who sucked Benji off in the locker room, one shot and a pill.

“Kyle.” The kid who worked next to him at the grocery store, a drink and a pill.

“Jackson.” The club manager from their very first show, a shot (lucky bastard).

“Roadies.” A, B, and C, three more gulps and three more little pills.

“Dusty.” Aaron grins and hands out another shot glass. Benji almost wants to take two pills but doesn’t. He misses Dusty the most.

“Billy.” A drink. Aaron was there.

“Tony.” Another swallow, but Benji’s sure that one of these days, he’ll be taking a pill in his best friend’s memory.

“Aaron.” A drink. He pauses, shivering slightly. Aaron’s smile fades as Benji reaches for the last pill and pops it in his mouth.

oh_five @ 2003-11-11T21:09:00

2003-11-12T05:10:48Z

Joel/Billy. Aaron/Benji. We all share the same appreciations.

You always knew when to run. There were little signs that sometimes you couldn’t pick up but whenever jazz started blasting from upstairs you knew you had to get the hell out. The first time was hard. It was confusing and you didn’t understand why Benji was pulling on your arm so frantically. He kept yelling "run, run, run" over and over, trying to get you out of the house but what the hell did he mean by it? You didn't find out until later. When the music got louder, signaling that Joel had opened his door and the creaking on the staircase started, he gave up and left without you. Ran without you. He grabbed his car keys and was out of there so quickly you actually looked around to see where the fire was. Little didn’t you know that the fire was Joel.

He came down the stairs slowly, giving you time but you stood there, still watching the place Benji had occupied just the minute before. He was probably somewhere downtown by then. Joel walked down, step by step, his hand trailing the railing until he saw you and smiled. You dumbly smiled back. You weren’t smiling later that night.

It was jazz. You heard it every single minute of those impossibly long hours. The trumpets and saxes and the bass. Oh the bass. Not the bass Paul played but the real one. The one your grandfather used to play in the marine core band.

Each time you fucked up, each time you confused Miles Davis with Charlie Parker, Joel scrapped his nails down your back. When you mixed up Bird Feathers with Blue Bird, Joel broke one of your ribs but really, who could actually tell the difference between those songs? Joel could and at the end of the night, you could too.

At the end of the night, you knew everything you didn’t want to know about jazz. You knew what instrument Lester Young played (sax) and who Dizzy Gillespie was. Joel could pick one of Bird’s songs and you could tell him if it was before or after a suicide attempt.

You cried your heart out that night, pleading for him to stop. You were dehydrated and everything began to spin until Joel gathered you up in his arms and forced water down your throat. Then you were just back to where you started.

When Benji came home, you were barely breathing and the music had finally stopped although you were sure it was still playing somewhere in your mind. It never stopped. Between tears, he told you how much of an idiot you were, that you should have listened to him, you should have trusted him. Well, now you knew.

When the music started playing again, you were gone before Benji. Sometimes you can't make it out in time. If Joel is feeling playful, there’s no warning. He’ll jump down the stairs and stop you before you can make it to the front door. Sometimes, you’ll distract him and Benji will get away or Benji will do the same for you. Benji always runs to Aaron and you don’t understand at all how he thinks Aaron is any better than Joel. Once, when you ran to Dusty, Joel came after him. When you ran to Tony, Joel was more than glad to come after him too. You’ve learned to stay by yourself. There’s no way you're going with Benji to Aaron’s house because not even Joel will come after Aaron and maybe, you think, maybe that’s why Benji goes there. Or maybe Benji just loves Aaron.

But then there are days when Benji is gone and you’re home alone with Joel when the music will start. There are days when you see the little signs, like today. Today, Joel is sitting at the table, filing his nails to a point. There are days like today when you just don’t feel like running, when you just don’t want to run.

There are days, like today, when Joel grins at you and you grin back. You share the same appreciation for pain and pleasure. You share the same appreciation for jazz. You compliment each other. And at the end of every day, he’ll climb into your bed and whisper in your ear how much he loves you.

oh_five @ 2003-11-11T13:46:00

2003-11-11T21:51:18Z

Aaron/Joel. Aaron/Ryan. Aaron/NSync. Aaron/Billy. Aaron/JD. Aaron/Benji. Challenge over at hello_distance. Drabble. 100 words.

Sometimes Aaron forgets what he wants.

Ryan will laugh and Aaron will remember those nights with Joel. Every fantasy Joel has had about Benji, the ones he’s whispered in detail into Aaron’s ear, will echo through the room and sometimes Aaron thinks Ryan hears them too because he’s never said no.

All of NSync are cocksuckers and Aaron knows it, because, really, he loves pop boys.

Billy bruises too easily.

JD doesn’t bruise easily enough.

The doors slide open and there’s Benji, smiling on the platform. Sometimes Aaron forgets what he wants but he’ll remember and Benji bruises just right.

oh_five @ 2003-11-10T15:06:00

2003-11-10T23:09:20Z

Benji/Aaron. A/N: I first planned on absolutely no mention of Joel but evil!Joel reared its head and, well, you just can’t ignore him at all.

Aaron used to tell you stories at night. He’d whisper fairytales in your ear and you felt safe with his arms wrapped around you and the heat from his body. It started during the first year of touring when you’d wince at any mention of home and your eyes were always red. You refused to share a room with Joel and everyone, even the roadies, called you a pussy for being home sick. You actually didn’t miss it at all.

You kept to your self. At night, you’d climb into Aaron’s bed and he’d pull you close. Once upon a time, he’d always start. There was this boy named Little Boy Blue and he was always so sad. It was always the same. The same words, the same tale, the same breath hitting your neck, the same tears hitting your pillow. Little Boy Blue had this friend named Charming Prince Aaron and all Prince Aaron wanted to do was to take Little Boy Blue away from his pain. Unfortunately, Prince Aaron couldn’t do that without first knowing what was making Little Boy Blue so sad.

You kept your mouth shut. Every night you told Aaron to shut up, to go to sleep, and one night he rejected you. He wouldn’t let you into his bed and you stood there, listening to the next part of your fairytale. You couldn’t even think of what a night without him would feel like so you told him. You told him everything. He nodded and pulled you back into his arms. You don’t think you ever felt as safe as that night.

He never let you go after that and you never stopped clinging to him even when Charming Prince Aaron became not so charming and Little Boy Blue took on a whole different meaning. Charming Prince Aaron turned out to be the Big Bad Wolf in disguise. But every night, he whispered your fairytale into your ear and you’d shiver, thinking about how much you’ve changed. You loved Charming Prince Aaron but you loved the Big Bad Wolf so much more and Little Boy Blue begged for everything he got.

Once upon a time, there was this boy named Little Boy Blue and he was always so sad. Little Boy Blue had this friend named Charming Prince Aaron and all Prince Aaron wanted to do was to take Little Boy Blue away from his pain. Unfortunately, Prince Aaron couldn’t do that without first knowing what was making Little Boy Blue so sad. One night, Prince Aaron became frustrated. Before he could do something he’d regret, he turned Little Boy Blue away even though it broke his heart. But Little Boy Blue spilled his secrets and told a fairy tale of his own.

“Once upon a time, there were these twins. Little Boy Blue and Little Boy Black. They used to be happy but something happened to Little Boy Black and he brought Little Boy Blue down with him. At night, Little Boy Blue would sneak out of bed, wondering what was taking his twin so long and every night he saw things that gave him nightmares. Little Boy Black would do things to their father and Little Boy Blue couldn’t get their father’s voice out of his mind, pleading for Little Boy Black to stop. Little Boy Blue’s father used to be great. He used to be a hero but Little Boy Black ruined him. One day the twin's father left but not before telling Little Boy Blue to stay the hell away from Little Boy Black. Little Boy Blue missed his brother but he missed his hero more and took his father’s advice to heart.”

When Little Boy Blue finished, Charming Prince Aaron promised to love him forever and Little Boy Blue smiled for once in a long time but the fairytale wasn’t over yet. Charming Prince Aaron changed. He ripped off his mask and became the Big Bad Wolf. My, what big bruises you have, Little Boy Blue. But Little Boy Blue still loved him. Maybe even more than he ever had before. Little Boy Blue was finally smiling.

And they lived happily ever after.

oh_five @ 2003-11-08T23:37:00

2003-11-09T07:39:29Z

Benji/Joel. Benji/Aaron.

When you finally understand what's happening, when you finally open your eyes to see Joel sneering over you, you vow to never ever let anyone give you drugs without questioning exactly what those tiny pills will do to you.

The car door slams and your head rolls foreword.

It comes in flashes, flashes of two different periods of time. It's a reenactment. Almost everything is the same except, this time, Joel plays Aaron. He plays Aaron like he was born to do it and it makes you wonder, what about you? Were you born with this side as well?

You can't feel your arms, or your legs, or anything else. It's like deji vu but this happened before. There’s a reason why Aaron was kicked out of the band and this is it. But now it's Joel and the glint in his eyes scares you more than the memory of Aaron's face.

It comes in flashes, flashes of deserted highways and telephone polls. Your eyes follow the lines, just like before, but other than that, you can’t move. You can’t move at all because if you could, you’d scream. You’d scream and scream because, unlike before, you know what’s happening, what’s going to happen. You remember being confused (how many ago years was it?) and wondering the whole time what was going on. Why was Aaron chuckling? Why wasn’t your body listening to you? Why? Why? Why? Now there are no questions because you know. You know.

Joel pulls into a motel parking lot. THE motel. The motel that haunts your dreams and when Joel comes back with a room key, you’re already crying because you know the next destination. Room 16. The exact same room you’ve been in before. A part of you used to wonder if they ever got the vomit stains out of the carpet and now, you’ll get your chance. You think that when you regain your voice, you won’t ask why, you won’t want an explanation. You’ll ask if Joel has seen Aaron lately. You regret giving Joel every detail of that night but he wanted to know. He had practically begged for every bit of information you had and you’re paying for it now.

It comes in flashes. You’re regaining your strength. It won’t be enough though, you already know that from the past experience. Joel pushes you down on the bed and crawls up your body. He whispers the same words that fell from Aaron’s lips so long ago. He tells you not to look so frightened. He tells you that he knows. He knows you want it. And he’s right. You do. You want him just like you wanted Aaron but it doesn’t make what’s happening any less terrifying. It doesn’t make it any less wrong.

You close your eyes as your clothing is shed. And then his body is on top of yours. His skin against your skin and this is so so wrong, so sick, so disgusting. But oh, it feels so good. Your hands fly to his hips and his voice runs through your mind. It’s what he told Tony earlier that night. It’s what made your body ache. He doesn’t bottom but he rides.

It comes in flashes, flashes of pain and pleasure. Your tears haven’t stopped and you look up at the ceiling. This is immoral. Prayers run through your mind. Please god. You aren’t sure what you want him to do but, please god save me.

When it’s over, he rolls away and you’re just able to sit up. You pull your legs to your chest and when you don’t think your soul could be bruised any more, you look over at him and that asshole, that fucker, he's smoking. And smirking.

“I’m going to hell,” you whisper.

He answers, the smoke haloing his head, “Baby, you’re already in hell.”

oh_five @ 2003-10-28T18:48:00

2003-10-29T02:50:21Z

hello_distance

oh_five @ 2003-10-25T18:44:00

2003-10-26T01:46:28Z

Benji/Aaron. A/N: If you follow this just right, you'll find where I live.

Aaron sighs dramatically and Benji chooses to ignore him. He can’t blame Aaron though. The highway signs were blurring behind Benji’s eyelids and they had been in the car long enough for his leg to cramp up. It had to be around here somewhere. A town just can’t disappear. Or maybe it can, Benji thinks. Maybe it doesn’t want to be found. Maybe it disappeared into the sunset.

Benji remembers it clearly. Well, not clearly enough because if he had, Aaron wouldn’t be convinced they were caught on a wild goose chase.

They had been scheduled to play a show in San Diego the following day and being three hours away with everyone tired and grumpy, Billy had jumped on the chance of getting a hotel in Palm Springs. Benji only half-listened to him raving about the gay clubs while ignoring Joel’s jealous glares. The bus driver, it turned out, had taken the wrong exit and Benji was left staring out the window at the disappearing windmills. After a couple miles of nothing and a small set of mountains where Benji was sure the bus was going to flip, they came to a town. Paul wasted no time in pointing out the single stoplight and Chris laughed at his own redneck jokes. But it was when the bus passed the gas station and had to turn around, driving through the dirt road neighborhoods littered with boarded up houses and rusting stables, when Benji saw it.

"Look Aaron. I swear to god it’s around here somewhere. I want you to see this." Benji crosses his arms and sits back. He watches Aaron’s jaw clench.

"Damnit Benji, we’ve been on this stretch of highway for the past hour. If I have to turn around one more time, I’m going to scream."

They speed past an exit and a memory is sparked. Benji’s breath catches in his throat. "That one Aaron! It’s defin-" but Benji swallows his words as Aaron twists the steering wheel and the car skids across the road, turning itself around as quickly as it can. Their ears are suddenly filled with the screeching of tires but Aaron laughs and changes gears, throwing the car into oncoming traffic. Benji grips his seat and says a prayer until they’re safely flying through the missed exit.

"Relax," Aaron says firmly and lays a hand on Benji’s thigh. The excitement is overwhelming because Benji remembers this road. He can see the mountain pass ahead and right after will be the town with its sign announcing its 1500 residents.

"Now what?" Aaron asks as they head down the main drag.

Benji shrugs. "I guess just pick a street. We’ll find it eventually."

"I can’t believe we came all this way for a stupid horse."

"It’s a skeleton horse," Benji corrects. "Just humor me, okay?"

Aaron maneuvers the car down the next road, barely missing a stray dog. "Whatever babe."

Benji walks up to the fence. He’s not disappointed, not at all, just slightly embarrassed for making such a huge deal about a horse that looks nothing like what he described. Aaron wraps his arms around Benji’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder, watching as Benji reaches out his hand and the horse nuzzles his palm.

"I guess I can see it. Maybe at, like, a first glance? Or from far away. The markings are really cool though." Aaron kisses his neck in reassurance.

"It did. It looked exactly like a skeleton, just not now."

"I never figured you for a horse guy."

Benji smiles. "I’m not. Or I wasn’t. It’s just that..." He trails off not sure how to start.

"It’s just what?"

"I thought that maybe, when we grow older, we could live here. With this horse. And a stable. A really nice one and we could get other pets. Like we could raise chickens or something."

"I heard chickens bring snakes." The sun is setting and Aaron suddenly wishes he had a camera.

"Yeah? I heard they kill snakes."

"Whatever. Benji. This is a fucking desert. It’s seven o’ clock at night and I’m sweating. It’s hot and it gets hotter. Let’s live in the mountains. You can have your horse and I’ll have the mountains. It’s a compromise."

Benji opens his mouth to protest, he could see himself growing old in a place like this.

"Unless, you’d like to live with Joel."

But the mountains will do. "Sounds good. So, you promise?"

Aaron starts back towards the car and Benji follows. "I promise. When you guys burn out in five years, we’ll buy that damn horse and move to the mountains together. I can’t wait."

"Me neither."

oh_five @ 2003-10-10T19:47:00

2003-10-11T02:48:52Z

Drabble. Aaron/Benji. Tony.

You take your time, knowing that once you reach the end of the block you’ll only have to turn back. It’s a process. Maybe you’ll cross the street and risk a confrontation with Tony who makes the same paralleled trip on the other side. Maybe you’ll give up on the prospect of a new client and crawl into Billy’s bed. He never refuses you and never forgets to pay. Maybe your heart won’t jump out of your chest as you try to find the guts that would get your feet moving into oncoming traffic. You doubt it.

Tony catches your eye and you pause, watching and waiting. He seems to have the same thoughts as you. He puts one foot out onto the street but pulls it back, teetering on the curb. You can just almost hear his thoughts and you’re intrigued. This is no way to live.

You pull your coat tighter around your body. Tony is just like you. You’ve shared the same dreams and you’ve shared the same reality. It’s all about being on paper. Your poems, your songs, have been written and thrown away. They stay unnoticed.

Since you were a kid you wanted to be famous, you wanted everyone to know you, you wanted people to read your thoughts and to relate to you. It was about being on paper because words are timeless and if they’re your words, you become immortal.

Tony is just like you with one exception. Matt pays him and Joel gets you for free.

He suddenly darts away and a part of you is disappointed as he continues on his way up and down the street. You sigh and the steam from your breath disappears as quickly as you let it out. A car pulls up next to you and your heart starts pounding. You mentally go through your check list.

The window rolls down and you fold your arms over the door. Your dickies ride low on your hips and you smile while inside suppressing a cringe at this John’s roaming eyes. Luckily, his looks aren’t bad. You love blonds.

"How much?"

You’re startled at his abruptness and you have to wet your lips before answering. "We can work that out later."

His lips purse. "Hmm, I guess we can. Get in."

You slide in effortlessly and his eyes meet yours. He leans in and you meet him halfway. His lips touch yours and oh look, there’s your future. You can see flashes of pain and blood, rope burns and heavy duty trash bags. This guy, this Aaron, he’s going to get you on paper. In the paper. And you can almost see the headlines.

That is, if they ever find your body.

Aaron smiles wide. He pulls the car away from the side of the street.

You don’t stop him.

oh_five @ 2003-10-03T15:49:00

2003-10-03T22:51:53Z

“You know that yourself. Can burn out of fear and hate.”
William S. Burroughs, Last Words

Ficlet. Aaron/Benji. Joel/Benji. A/N: Think "This is your life." And the ending doesn't have what I was looking for but it works.

You don’t remember much but what you do recall isn’t enough to keep you satisfied. He was the beginning. He was the start of your self-destruction. Aaron found your innocence and when he left that night, he took it with him.

There are still flashes of naked skin stained with blood behind your eyelids. You can still hear your screams when you’re alone and sometimes you feel like joining in.

It’s been two years and you haven’t seen Aaron since you woke up in a haze of pain and he was gone. Joel had found you hours later. You were lying in your own blood, unable to move. You face had been unrecognizable and the rest of your body had been worse. What followed after was surgery after surgery to make you whole again. The healing process of your appearance had been excruciatingly long. You weren’t sure if your mind would ever heal.

At Joel’s persistence, you went to a councilor. She couldn’t save you and neither could your therapist. Or the one after or the one after that. You learned quickly to give them the answers they wanted to hear and to conceal the truth.

You spent a couple months with your mother but when she became sick again, you left faster than your father. You couldn’t take care of yourself and her at the same time. You needed her to save you, not the other way around.

You pushed Joel away and turned to alcohol, drugs, and Tony. Tony could get you anything but he didn’t help you remember, he made you forget. You didn’t want that so you left the drugs as easily as you left Mom. You left Tony with a syringe filled with blood hanging out of his arm. A part of you didn’t care if he ODed. Matt found him later, half dead.

So you left him and showed up at Joel’s door. His wife answered, holding their six month old child. You only vaguely remember a phone call from Joel, announcing the birth. The rest of your band had finished the new record without you and all you had to do was memorize your parts. When you started the tour, you were sure you had fallen so far that Hell was the next stop. You were sure you belonged there.

You went through a series of physical and emotional mutilation episodes. You didn’t care. There were already scars from that night hidden under tattoos, what were a couple more?

Finally you let Joel try to help you. He tried talking to you but became frustrated at your one word answers. He tried to get you to another psychologist but you refused. Finally he did the only thing he could think of.

You remember listening to his phone calls to his wife with hushed “I love you”s given out over the phone lines. He’d say goodnight to her and then crawl into bed with you. His twin. He’d touch you and you’d moan. He’d kiss you and you shivered. But it didn’t help. It didn’t feel as good.

No one could save you. Not a specialist. Not your mother. Not your best friend with his “ best friends.” Not your own brother who you would die for. The only one who could love you like you needed and could make you remember and could save you is standing right in front of you.

You had agreed to go to this club after Joel’s kissed pleads of getting you out of the hotel. You ordered a coke and sat, shivering, in a corner until you saw it. You saw just a glimpse of blond hair but it was enough. He was here. He was here, in the flesh; he was close enough to touch. You ran onto the dance floor and grabbed his shoulder. This is where you are now.

His eyes are as intense as you remember them. You stay silent because he hasn’t told you to talk yet. What Aaron wants, Aaron gets.

“Benji, Benji, Benji.” He whispers tauntingly.

Joel is staring at you from across the club and he looks frantic. No Joel, no. You need this. You need Aaron. You’ve known it from the beginning.

Aaron smiles, knowing your thoughts, and pulls you into a kiss. He hasn’t told you to talk yet but he will. What Aaron wants, Aaron gets. And he wants you.

oh_five @ 2003-10-02T18:28:00

2003-10-03T01:32:17Z

Drabble. Joel/Benji. A/N: A part of me wonders if I've already read the main point behind this and I'm suppressing the memory. It seems like a very writable topic. Or maybe that's just me.

Joel looks up as you walk into the room. His eyebrows furrow.

“What’s with the makeup?”

You shrug. “I dunno. Just wanted to try something different.”

“Eyeliner tears?”

“I like them.”

Joel’s face suddenly changes and you’re thrown off. He looks like Dad.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll give you something to fucking cry about.”

And sounds like him too.

oh_five @ 2003-09-29T15:21:00

2003-09-29T22:35:48Z

Drabble. Again. Aaron/Benji. Again. Benji/Joel.

Aaron is obsessive compulsive. Always has been, probably always will be.

With Aaron, it’s the number three. He has to wash his hands three times. He locks and unlocks and locks all the doors in your house. When he leaves, it’s never been one kiss to your lips, it’s been three. But who the hell are you to complain? There’s always three drumsticks when he’s playing and when it’s just the two of you, he sets the table for three. Aaron has to wash his hair three times and you know there’s always three coats of polish on his nails.

Aaron has a problem but you love him anyway.

Aaron takes a prescription for his condition but you aren’t so sure it helps. You are sure it just makes him meaner, angrier, more aggressive. It’s never been just one hit with him, it’s three punches and three kicks. It’s your three broken ribs and your three sprained fingers.

Joel came over today and he didn’t just stay to hang out. He’s inside you, fucking you so hard on the kitchen table. He moans your name in increments of three. “Benji, Benji, Benj.” And this just isn’t your first time. In the past hour, you’ve been fucked by your brother twice. You’ve come twice, screamed his name twice, and you’re ready for your third.

Maybe, you realize, as Joel’s tongue darts in and out and in of your mouth, that you’re the one who’s fucked up. Maybe you’re the one with the disorder. You could learn to love the number three too. You really could.

Your head turns to the side and the clock on the microwave causes a moan to escape your lips. 3:33. Aaron would be so proud.

oh_five @ 2003-09-28T18:42:00

2003-09-29T01:49:05Z

Drabble. Aaron/Benji with mentions of Aaron/Paul (what the fuck?)

The last thing you remember was Aaron. Aaron and his smile and your drink in his hand. The last thing you remember is smiling back. The rest is a blur.

You had a dream of chloroform rolling around in the back seat and Aaron spilling it on his pants, cursing. You dreamt of opened windows and shivering cold. You had tried to scream but a hand covered your mouth. You were backhanded, in this dream. You wondered if Paul’s ring would make an indentation on your check. You dreamt of Cheshire cat grins and falling down the rabbit hole. Someone called you Alice and maybe that’s where your mind found the reference. You saw falling stars and wanted to wish on them. Please God, keep me safe. Maybe they were falling because you had been shoved to the ground, but they were falling nonetheless. Or maybe that was you.

In this dream, you saw grass stains and felt dew cling to your shirt. You smelt blood and felt dirt. You tasted pain and choked down vomit. In the distance you watched a boy push his twin on the swings and where’s Joel? You dreamt of groans and pants. You dreamt of obscene words and you wondered if Aaron called Paul a fag when they had sex. Or made love. Weren’t they suppose to be planning some family get-together with both of their parents tonight?

You remember wondering, as you bit your lip, if Paul was going to kill you if you told him. You remember vowing to never let anyone know about your fucked up subconscious. Dreams didn’t mean anything, right? You could own up to some sexual frustration but that didn’t mean you wanted Aaron.

You dreamt of screams, your screams, and your vision blurred.

When you awoke, Aaron was standing over you, his pants unzipped. When you tried to move, you screamed again. You could feel the blood trickling down your back and thighs.

Aaron reached down a hand and helped you up. You thought, for a second, you saw Paul’s car pulling away, kicking up dust. But Aaron lead you over towards your car and helped you into the passenger seat.

When you arrived home, you headed towards the bathroom. He pulled your shirt over your head and turned on the water. There were initials cut into your skin. AE. PT.

And you knew, right fucking then, there was no dream.