Categories > Celebrities > Good Charlotte > Get Mine, Get Yours
Author: Strings393
Fiction Title: Get Mine, Get Yours
Chapter Title: 02 Taste
Pairing: Benji/Joel
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, BDSM, Twincest
Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Reference
Summary: Joel Combs is the football captain loved by everyone. Well, almost everyone. Benji Madden couldn't stand the sight of him at first, but things changed. The past was rocky, but who's to say that there aren't blue skies after the storm? SEQUEL TO WICKED TICKLES. AU/BDSM/Twincest.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything except the plot. The title, Get Mine, Get Yours/, is the title of a Christina Aguilera song off her album /Stripped/. The song /Ole belongs to the Bouncing Souls.
Pretend like you never saw what you did...
His words kept replaying themselves over in my head.
Pretend like you never saw what you did...
I blinked a few times and looked around the classroom. I could pretend like I never saw that, right? I mean, I've walked in on my parents banging the shit out of each other and forgot it ever happened - until now that is. I gave an involuntary shudder. That was one subject no kid wanted to think about.
I had decided to throw a huge party inviting all my friends to celebrate the success of making it to senior year without too much trouble. There was going to be food, beer, music, dancing, and of course, sex in any room of the house that was available. Everyone I knew was invited and I trusted my friends to get the word around. My parents were going to Los Vegas for a few days to celebrate their anniversary and entrusted the house to me. That just screams party.
I took the time off I had for my senior privilege with Trent to set up the sound system for the band that was going to play. I had promised a kid I knew that his band could play that night as long as they dropped the stuff off at my house for me to set up today. I told my parents it was just a little band practice and they ignorantly believed me. Trent and I worked to set up the stage and set up the extra microphone next to the phone so if it rang during the party, we'd hear it through the amps. We stood back and sighed, taking a look at our work.
"You think we did it right?" I asked him. He laughed and shrugged.
"If we didn't, they can fix it before they play." he replied.
"Fair enough. Do you want to swing by the billiard hall for a few games before the party?"
"I would fucking love to." he said as if he were a girl tasting chocolate for the first time on a massive PMS spree.
***
The party was kicking off without a flaw. Tons of kids came and were already drinking hard and partying harder. Among the people that came were Benji and his friends; I didn't mind because I had a whole bunch of people to keep me busy. Just before the party, the band showed up for tuning while Trent and I did a quick sweep of hiding all the valuables and delicates in cabinets or drawers.
Around eleven, everything was in full swing and kids were already drunk off their asses. Everyone loved the band and I congratulated myself on choosing them over a lame ass stereo system. It's a good thing that Trent and I hid all the breakable things before the party because the people had moved my couch against a wall and were forming their own mosh pits. I thought it was pretty fucking amusing that I could say people were crowd surfing in my house. The band finished their song and someone whispered something in the lead singer's ear that caused him to nod and smile. I vaguely wondered what they were talking about when the lead singer answered it all for me; the one song that was perfect to sing for a drunken crowd of Bouncing Souls fans.
"Ole! Ole, ole, ole! Ole! Ole!" the singer shouted into his microphone.
The crowd cheered and held up their cups of beer and joined in, some of them clapping to the beat and spilling beer on the floor. I myself was too pissed to care and joined in with them all.
"Bouncing souls, no one can beat us. We drink beer and wear Adidas." the audience shouted.
I looked over and saw Benji and his friends enjoying every minute of it. They fought their way into the pit and started moshing like there was no tomorrow. He climbed up some kids back in front of him and went into a crowd surfing, shouting the chorus at the top of his lungs; "Ole! Ole, ole, ole! Ole! Ole!"
I couldn't help but laugh at him. He was so cute at times. Why the fuck was I so mad at him anyway? With looks like that, why hold anything against him?
You have self-respect. a voice in the back of my head said. I paused. Oh yeah. I forgot about that. I stared at him as he continued to mosh to the music - it was a different song now, but he was still flipping out.
A thin layer of sweat was becoming visible on his forehead and I couldn't help but feel jealous. I wish I could touch his skin right now.
I remembered how it felt when he and I were together; how addicting he was. He could give you just one kiss and you'd be under his spell. He could just brush your skin and you'd feel jolts of excitement go through you. I was jealous that anyone knew how addicting he was. He was like heroin; Heroin Benji: an addiction no amount of rehab could get rid of. I remembered what he tasted like whenever I kissed him, I remembered what he felt like when he was on top of me.
I wasn't quite sure how long I was watching him for, but soon he was stumbling out of the mosh pit half buzzed from the alcohol and reached for another beer. I watched as he brought it to his lips and drank, not even caring when it rolled past the corner of his mouth and down his neck. I followed the liquid's trail with hungry eyes knowing that just months before, my tongue would make that same path. He crumpled the cup and threw it on the floor, staggering over to his friends to exchange drunken slurs with them.
I should go over to him, tell him that I need to speak to him privately and then fuck his brains out in my room.
What would come from that? The voice was back.
A great fuck.
How would you feel when it was all over with? When you're sober?
How would I feel? Would he stick around the next morning or just leave? Would he take me again and then leave laughing like last time?
He looked over at me and caught my eye. We stared at each other for a few seconds and as soon as he took a step toward me, I turned around and walked away. He wasn't worth getting crushed again. As I was heading towards the kitchen, a familiar chirping filled the air. I stopped dead in my tracks. The phone was ringing.
I ran over to the band and unplugged all their hook up cables except for the lead singer's mic and grabbed it. "Everyone shut up!" I shouted. Everyone went silent. "I've got a phone call on the house phone. If I hear one person speak, I'll personally hurt you." I went over to the phone and picked it up, feeling everyone's eyes on me. "Hello?" I said as normally as I could, trying to hide my drunken slur.
It was my mother.
"Hey honey, we were just wondering how everything was. Are you alright? Did you get enough to eat?" she asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine, Mom. I'm doing good."
"Are you keeping the house safe?"
"Best security guard you'll ever have that works for free."
"You don't work for free. We feed you don't we?" I laughed and nodded.
"That you do."
"Alright honey, you were probably sleeping, so I'll let you back to it. I just wanted to check in. These time zone differences drive me crazy."
"No problem, Mom. Love you, bye." After I hung up I looked around at every one and smiled. "That was my mom." I was just about to say that the party was resumed, but the phone rang again. "Hello?"
It was my neighbor, Mrs. Gibbons.
"Joel?" Her frail old voice asked from the other end.
"Hello, Mrs. Gibbons." I said sweetly.
"There's a lot of racket going on over there and I was just phoning to see if you were alright." she said.
"I'm fine. I guess I had the radio too loud. Sorry to bother you."
"It's fine, dear. Have a lovely evening."
"You too, Mrs. Gibbons." I hung up with her and looked at my watch. It was three in the morning. Now I felt bad for waking her up. "Alright everyone! The neighbors are starting to complain. Everybody out!" I shouted. There were a series of groans. "Come on now...go home. Don't drive if you're drunk, for Christ's sake." Soon everyone was cleared out and when I thought it was just me, a voice behind me made me jump out of my skin.
"Do you want me to stay behind and help you clean up?" they asked. I turned and saw Benji looking around at all the cups, half eaten pizza slices and napkins every where.
"I would appreciate that, yeah." I answered. "I'm fucking tired though, so we'll do it tomorrow, alright?" He nodded. When he didn't make a move for the door, I gave him an odd look. "That means you can go home, Benj."
"I don't have a home, remember? You said that you're house was free, but if you take that back, then I could walk..." he rambled.
"It's fine, Benj. You can stay the night." I said loudly, interrupting him.
"Thanks, man. This house will be spotless tomorrow when I help you. I promise." I nodded and yawned, only to finish off a cup of beer that was sitting on a table that was on the way to my room.
"Whatever. Just go to bed and get some sleep. We'll both be feeling this in the morning." I mumbled.
***
Around noon time the next day, after forcing down three aspirins each and throwing up our fair share of times, Benji and I broke out the trash bags and started cleaning up the house. It wasn't all that bad; until we found a puddle that was giving off a really bad stench.
"What is that?!" I asked, putting the back of my hand up to my nose to block the smell. Benji looked over my shoulder at it.
"I think that's puke, dude." he said. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
"Why do I always have to deal with puke when it comes to parties?" Benji laughed and hit my arm lightly.
"You remember that one time you took me home after a party and I puked on you?" he asked.
"Vividly." I replied with a sigh.
"Your car stunk so bad." he said while laughing.
"Shut up, man. I should have made you clean that shit up, but you're lucky I'm a nice guy."
"True, true."
We continued to clean and set the bags out on the street to be collected by the garbage men when we were done. Benji didn't want to go to his aunt's yet, so we were relaxing on the couch with the TV going at a low volume in the background of our conversation.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Benji asked.
"Yeah. You were a fucking dick to me." I replied with a hint of bitterness, but Benji just laughed.
"I thought you were the biggest pompous jack ass in the whole school." he said.
"Well that was sweet of you."
"Well I was right." he said. I stared at him. "I'm kidding, Joely. Relax."
"Stop calling me that." I mumbled.
"What? Joely?" he asked. "But I always call you that."
"Well I'm asking you to stop." I said a tiny bit louder than I could have. He looked taken aback.
I wanted to cry. I missed him so, so much and I knew that it didn't matter who the hell I slept with, they'd never be Benji. I cleared my throat and blinked a few times.
"So how are your mom and sister holding up?" I asked.
"They're doing fine at my aunt's. They're getting a place to sleep and food to eat without me having to hit up condiments tables." he replied. "Mom's looking for another job and I was going to quit school and get two jobs myself, but Mom doesn't want me to do that. She wants me to graduate."
"As you should." I said. "The worst thing you could do is drop out, Benj."
"I'm just trying to help out my family the best way I can."
"Then that would be to get good grades, graduate high school and then go to college to get a really good job." He shook his head.
"I'm not going to go to college. I'm in a band right now. We're going to go far, Joel. I can feel it." I smirked and nodded.
"Good for you. I hope you do go far. I know you've got the talent. Hook me up with some hot celebrities while you're at it." I teased.
"I'll be sure to send Johnny Depp your way." he teased back. "I'm just kidding. He's too old."
There was a silence between us. I wanted to reach out and run my hand through his soft hair again, or touch his cheek like I used to when we were together. The lump came back to my throat and I fought it down, trying not to let him see.
"Hey! Do you remember that time you were supposed to come over to my house at night, but you were going to chicken out, and I scared the hell out of you by dropping out of that tree?" he asked. I nodded, forcing a smile.
"That was a funny sort of night." I said. His smile fell.
"Oh yeah; I forgot about the rest of it." he muttered. He got up and absent mindedly wandered around the living room to give him something to do. "How's what's her face? The main one you're with." he asked.
"Erica? She's fine." He grabbed the broom we had used to clean with and started tossing the handle from one hand to another as I turned on the couch to face him. "Do you have anyone in your life?" He shook his head and started to do these slow, kung fu type moves with the broom.
"Nah. I haven't found anyone that's caught my eye." he replied.
Out of no where, he did a spin kick and extended out the broom so the bristles smacked me across the face as he spun around. I fell down on the couch laughing and holding a hand to my cheek.
"Hwauh!" Benji screeched.
"You ass! That stung!" I said through my laughs.
"They call me Kung Fu Benji." he said in a surprisingly good Asian accent that made me laugh harder.
"You're such an idiot." I sat up on the couch and looked at him again. He walked towards me and leaned on the broom with a crooked grin.
"You have to admit, though...that was a pretty tight move." I paused, but soon nodded.
"Yeah, that was pretty good." I replied. "And random. I wasn't expecting you to hit me."
"Well if you knew I was going to hit you, you wouldn't have let me hit you, now would you? That would take all the fun out of it for me. Ha! It's starting to turn white and red where I got you...you can see the bristle marks and everything." He started laughing. "Joel, you have officially been bitch slapped by a broom. How does that make you feel?" He held the end of the broom handle out to me and made me start laughing all over again.
"Well..." I started, getting up and going to the closet and pulling out the mop. "It makes me want to whack you with a mop."
That was all that needed to be said for the war of the broom and mop to commence. That bitch was going down.
Fiction Title: Get Mine, Get Yours
Chapter Title: 02 Taste
Pairing: Benji/Joel
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, BDSM, Twincest
Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Reference
Summary: Joel Combs is the football captain loved by everyone. Well, almost everyone. Benji Madden couldn't stand the sight of him at first, but things changed. The past was rocky, but who's to say that there aren't blue skies after the storm? SEQUEL TO WICKED TICKLES. AU/BDSM/Twincest.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything except the plot. The title, Get Mine, Get Yours/, is the title of a Christina Aguilera song off her album /Stripped/. The song /Ole belongs to the Bouncing Souls.
Pretend like you never saw what you did...
His words kept replaying themselves over in my head.
Pretend like you never saw what you did...
I blinked a few times and looked around the classroom. I could pretend like I never saw that, right? I mean, I've walked in on my parents banging the shit out of each other and forgot it ever happened - until now that is. I gave an involuntary shudder. That was one subject no kid wanted to think about.
I had decided to throw a huge party inviting all my friends to celebrate the success of making it to senior year without too much trouble. There was going to be food, beer, music, dancing, and of course, sex in any room of the house that was available. Everyone I knew was invited and I trusted my friends to get the word around. My parents were going to Los Vegas for a few days to celebrate their anniversary and entrusted the house to me. That just screams party.
I took the time off I had for my senior privilege with Trent to set up the sound system for the band that was going to play. I had promised a kid I knew that his band could play that night as long as they dropped the stuff off at my house for me to set up today. I told my parents it was just a little band practice and they ignorantly believed me. Trent and I worked to set up the stage and set up the extra microphone next to the phone so if it rang during the party, we'd hear it through the amps. We stood back and sighed, taking a look at our work.
"You think we did it right?" I asked him. He laughed and shrugged.
"If we didn't, they can fix it before they play." he replied.
"Fair enough. Do you want to swing by the billiard hall for a few games before the party?"
"I would fucking love to." he said as if he were a girl tasting chocolate for the first time on a massive PMS spree.
***
The party was kicking off without a flaw. Tons of kids came and were already drinking hard and partying harder. Among the people that came were Benji and his friends; I didn't mind because I had a whole bunch of people to keep me busy. Just before the party, the band showed up for tuning while Trent and I did a quick sweep of hiding all the valuables and delicates in cabinets or drawers.
Around eleven, everything was in full swing and kids were already drunk off their asses. Everyone loved the band and I congratulated myself on choosing them over a lame ass stereo system. It's a good thing that Trent and I hid all the breakable things before the party because the people had moved my couch against a wall and were forming their own mosh pits. I thought it was pretty fucking amusing that I could say people were crowd surfing in my house. The band finished their song and someone whispered something in the lead singer's ear that caused him to nod and smile. I vaguely wondered what they were talking about when the lead singer answered it all for me; the one song that was perfect to sing for a drunken crowd of Bouncing Souls fans.
"Ole! Ole, ole, ole! Ole! Ole!" the singer shouted into his microphone.
The crowd cheered and held up their cups of beer and joined in, some of them clapping to the beat and spilling beer on the floor. I myself was too pissed to care and joined in with them all.
"Bouncing souls, no one can beat us. We drink beer and wear Adidas." the audience shouted.
I looked over and saw Benji and his friends enjoying every minute of it. They fought their way into the pit and started moshing like there was no tomorrow. He climbed up some kids back in front of him and went into a crowd surfing, shouting the chorus at the top of his lungs; "Ole! Ole, ole, ole! Ole! Ole!"
I couldn't help but laugh at him. He was so cute at times. Why the fuck was I so mad at him anyway? With looks like that, why hold anything against him?
You have self-respect. a voice in the back of my head said. I paused. Oh yeah. I forgot about that. I stared at him as he continued to mosh to the music - it was a different song now, but he was still flipping out.
A thin layer of sweat was becoming visible on his forehead and I couldn't help but feel jealous. I wish I could touch his skin right now.
I remembered how it felt when he and I were together; how addicting he was. He could give you just one kiss and you'd be under his spell. He could just brush your skin and you'd feel jolts of excitement go through you. I was jealous that anyone knew how addicting he was. He was like heroin; Heroin Benji: an addiction no amount of rehab could get rid of. I remembered what he tasted like whenever I kissed him, I remembered what he felt like when he was on top of me.
I wasn't quite sure how long I was watching him for, but soon he was stumbling out of the mosh pit half buzzed from the alcohol and reached for another beer. I watched as he brought it to his lips and drank, not even caring when it rolled past the corner of his mouth and down his neck. I followed the liquid's trail with hungry eyes knowing that just months before, my tongue would make that same path. He crumpled the cup and threw it on the floor, staggering over to his friends to exchange drunken slurs with them.
I should go over to him, tell him that I need to speak to him privately and then fuck his brains out in my room.
What would come from that? The voice was back.
A great fuck.
How would you feel when it was all over with? When you're sober?
How would I feel? Would he stick around the next morning or just leave? Would he take me again and then leave laughing like last time?
He looked over at me and caught my eye. We stared at each other for a few seconds and as soon as he took a step toward me, I turned around and walked away. He wasn't worth getting crushed again. As I was heading towards the kitchen, a familiar chirping filled the air. I stopped dead in my tracks. The phone was ringing.
I ran over to the band and unplugged all their hook up cables except for the lead singer's mic and grabbed it. "Everyone shut up!" I shouted. Everyone went silent. "I've got a phone call on the house phone. If I hear one person speak, I'll personally hurt you." I went over to the phone and picked it up, feeling everyone's eyes on me. "Hello?" I said as normally as I could, trying to hide my drunken slur.
It was my mother.
"Hey honey, we were just wondering how everything was. Are you alright? Did you get enough to eat?" she asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine, Mom. I'm doing good."
"Are you keeping the house safe?"
"Best security guard you'll ever have that works for free."
"You don't work for free. We feed you don't we?" I laughed and nodded.
"That you do."
"Alright honey, you were probably sleeping, so I'll let you back to it. I just wanted to check in. These time zone differences drive me crazy."
"No problem, Mom. Love you, bye." After I hung up I looked around at every one and smiled. "That was my mom." I was just about to say that the party was resumed, but the phone rang again. "Hello?"
It was my neighbor, Mrs. Gibbons.
"Joel?" Her frail old voice asked from the other end.
"Hello, Mrs. Gibbons." I said sweetly.
"There's a lot of racket going on over there and I was just phoning to see if you were alright." she said.
"I'm fine. I guess I had the radio too loud. Sorry to bother you."
"It's fine, dear. Have a lovely evening."
"You too, Mrs. Gibbons." I hung up with her and looked at my watch. It was three in the morning. Now I felt bad for waking her up. "Alright everyone! The neighbors are starting to complain. Everybody out!" I shouted. There were a series of groans. "Come on now...go home. Don't drive if you're drunk, for Christ's sake." Soon everyone was cleared out and when I thought it was just me, a voice behind me made me jump out of my skin.
"Do you want me to stay behind and help you clean up?" they asked. I turned and saw Benji looking around at all the cups, half eaten pizza slices and napkins every where.
"I would appreciate that, yeah." I answered. "I'm fucking tired though, so we'll do it tomorrow, alright?" He nodded. When he didn't make a move for the door, I gave him an odd look. "That means you can go home, Benj."
"I don't have a home, remember? You said that you're house was free, but if you take that back, then I could walk..." he rambled.
"It's fine, Benj. You can stay the night." I said loudly, interrupting him.
"Thanks, man. This house will be spotless tomorrow when I help you. I promise." I nodded and yawned, only to finish off a cup of beer that was sitting on a table that was on the way to my room.
"Whatever. Just go to bed and get some sleep. We'll both be feeling this in the morning." I mumbled.
***
Around noon time the next day, after forcing down three aspirins each and throwing up our fair share of times, Benji and I broke out the trash bags and started cleaning up the house. It wasn't all that bad; until we found a puddle that was giving off a really bad stench.
"What is that?!" I asked, putting the back of my hand up to my nose to block the smell. Benji looked over my shoulder at it.
"I think that's puke, dude." he said. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
"Why do I always have to deal with puke when it comes to parties?" Benji laughed and hit my arm lightly.
"You remember that one time you took me home after a party and I puked on you?" he asked.
"Vividly." I replied with a sigh.
"Your car stunk so bad." he said while laughing.
"Shut up, man. I should have made you clean that shit up, but you're lucky I'm a nice guy."
"True, true."
We continued to clean and set the bags out on the street to be collected by the garbage men when we were done. Benji didn't want to go to his aunt's yet, so we were relaxing on the couch with the TV going at a low volume in the background of our conversation.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Benji asked.
"Yeah. You were a fucking dick to me." I replied with a hint of bitterness, but Benji just laughed.
"I thought you were the biggest pompous jack ass in the whole school." he said.
"Well that was sweet of you."
"Well I was right." he said. I stared at him. "I'm kidding, Joely. Relax."
"Stop calling me that." I mumbled.
"What? Joely?" he asked. "But I always call you that."
"Well I'm asking you to stop." I said a tiny bit louder than I could have. He looked taken aback.
I wanted to cry. I missed him so, so much and I knew that it didn't matter who the hell I slept with, they'd never be Benji. I cleared my throat and blinked a few times.
"So how are your mom and sister holding up?" I asked.
"They're doing fine at my aunt's. They're getting a place to sleep and food to eat without me having to hit up condiments tables." he replied. "Mom's looking for another job and I was going to quit school and get two jobs myself, but Mom doesn't want me to do that. She wants me to graduate."
"As you should." I said. "The worst thing you could do is drop out, Benj."
"I'm just trying to help out my family the best way I can."
"Then that would be to get good grades, graduate high school and then go to college to get a really good job." He shook his head.
"I'm not going to go to college. I'm in a band right now. We're going to go far, Joel. I can feel it." I smirked and nodded.
"Good for you. I hope you do go far. I know you've got the talent. Hook me up with some hot celebrities while you're at it." I teased.
"I'll be sure to send Johnny Depp your way." he teased back. "I'm just kidding. He's too old."
There was a silence between us. I wanted to reach out and run my hand through his soft hair again, or touch his cheek like I used to when we were together. The lump came back to my throat and I fought it down, trying not to let him see.
"Hey! Do you remember that time you were supposed to come over to my house at night, but you were going to chicken out, and I scared the hell out of you by dropping out of that tree?" he asked. I nodded, forcing a smile.
"That was a funny sort of night." I said. His smile fell.
"Oh yeah; I forgot about the rest of it." he muttered. He got up and absent mindedly wandered around the living room to give him something to do. "How's what's her face? The main one you're with." he asked.
"Erica? She's fine." He grabbed the broom we had used to clean with and started tossing the handle from one hand to another as I turned on the couch to face him. "Do you have anyone in your life?" He shook his head and started to do these slow, kung fu type moves with the broom.
"Nah. I haven't found anyone that's caught my eye." he replied.
Out of no where, he did a spin kick and extended out the broom so the bristles smacked me across the face as he spun around. I fell down on the couch laughing and holding a hand to my cheek.
"Hwauh!" Benji screeched.
"You ass! That stung!" I said through my laughs.
"They call me Kung Fu Benji." he said in a surprisingly good Asian accent that made me laugh harder.
"You're such an idiot." I sat up on the couch and looked at him again. He walked towards me and leaned on the broom with a crooked grin.
"You have to admit, though...that was a pretty tight move." I paused, but soon nodded.
"Yeah, that was pretty good." I replied. "And random. I wasn't expecting you to hit me."
"Well if you knew I was going to hit you, you wouldn't have let me hit you, now would you? That would take all the fun out of it for me. Ha! It's starting to turn white and red where I got you...you can see the bristle marks and everything." He started laughing. "Joel, you have officially been bitch slapped by a broom. How does that make you feel?" He held the end of the broom handle out to me and made me start laughing all over again.
"Well..." I started, getting up and going to the closet and pulling out the mop. "It makes me want to whack you with a mop."
That was all that needed to be said for the war of the broom and mop to commence. That bitch was going down.
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