Categories > Celebrities > Good Charlotte > Get Mine, Get Yours

05 I Turned Around

by Strings 4 reviews

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 the...

Category: Good Charlotte - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2006-10-09 - Updated: 2006-10-10 - 2862 words

Author: Strings393
Fiction Title: Get Mine, Get Yours
Chapter Title: 05 I Turned Around
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/.

*Weeks Later*
So it all came down to Benji. I sighed and picked up my homework, taking a seat at my desk. I had to keep my mind off of him somehow; but just like every other attempt to block him out, I failed horribly. I looked down at my homework and tried to concentrate on the questions. Governmental Studies wasn't one of my most favorite classes. I smirked as a conversation Benji and I had on the subject replayed in my head.

"I fucking hate this class. I have to write a whole essay on how I feel about the government? It's fucked up. The end." he fumed.

"You're making it harder than it really is, Benj. Just write about how much you hate it."

"If I tried to do that, then I'm bound to get pissed off and end up hurting someone. Namely you since you're the only one with me." I smiled.

"I'll take my chances. Write the fucking essay." He lunged from the chair at his desk to his bed where was laying and started to playfully punch me. I wrestled him so that I was lying on top of him and placed a kiss on his lips. "Write it."

"Alright." he replied with a smile.

That was his problem; he made things harder than they were. It's not like I meant to fall in love with him. It's not like I chose to be attracted to him. It just happened. I still couldn't understand why I was putting myself through all this mental strain. Maybe Benji just wasn't the person I loved. Maybe he was just the one that I wished would be the person I loved. Now I was just lying to myself. I wished that he could be here with me right now, talking about all the random stuff that we did.

I went over to my window and opened it, letting the cool breeze come in. It was a nice change from the hot, sticky summer air. Our favorite season was rolling in: fall. Benji and I both loved fall. It was the most beautiful time of year, we said. All the leaves were turning colors and falling to the ground. I remember watching Benji rake leaves up in his yard and then getting pissed off when Sarah ran and jumped onto his pile. He didn't stay mad at her for long. In fact, not even a minute later, he jumped in there with her and they were involved in a leaf fight.

I smirked at the memory and shook my head. Benji was such a sweet badass. Most people were scared of him, but I knew better. I took a seat on the windowsill and leaned up against the frame letting memories of holidays fill my head. I remembered how last Christmas, I turned Benji away when he needed me most. He looked so scared and heartbroken when I shut the door on him. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else, but as usual, whenever you try to forget something like that, it makes you think about it more. A tear fell past my eyelid as I recalled his eyes. It broke my heart that I did that to him.

Christmas time was never really my favorite time of the year. I'd have to get presents for people and when I saw their faces when they opened them, the pessimist in me knew that they hated them. The thought of being alone on Christmas made the breeze feel even colder. If I could have another chance with Benji, another chance to do things right, I would take it in half a heartbeat. I had to do something. Just sitting made me feel anxious. I went to my desk, grabbing a pen and a notebook, and resumed my spot on the windowsill. I felt drained. The minute I tried to write down how I felt, I knew that I'd never be able to put it to words. Frustrated, I threw the two items onto my bed.

I looked around my room and remembered all the things we did together and smiled back on them. It was here in my room that I learned never to challenge Benji to a pillow fight. Ever. A small chuckle emitted from me as I remembered how he slammed me in the face and won the match. Another flashback took me to the day that we met. I was so excited because we had won the big game against Thomas Stone High. Benji had been such a jackass to me that day; it's not like I was planning on bumping into him. As I told him, it was a total accident. Yet, I was so desperate to have him as my friend because I couldn't stand it when people didn't like me before they knew me. I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he never bumped into me that day.

We would have never met. We would have never kissed. We would have never had sex. We.../I/, rather, would have never fallen in love.

I got up and changed into some jam shorts and an old, oversized t-shirt I cut the sleeves off of before grabbing a football out of my closet and heading downstairs. When I got to my backyard, I started throwing the football through the old tire swing hanging from one of the oldest trees there. The sun was setting, casting and orange-tinted light over me. I skipped back three steps before sending the football in a tight spiral through the swing, only to jog after it and do it again. Even after a slight rain started to come down, I still continued with my practice. It had been so long since I had done this, and it felt good. It reminded me of my love for football and how it was able to make me forget the stress I felt every day. I squatted down, yelled out a play to myself and proceeded with it, faking a pass to the left, only to go to the right and send it through the tire.

I didn't like how Benj had us pretending like we were something we weren't. We used to be so close and have so much fun and laugh together about nearly everything. He could drop his defenses with me and know that he wouldn't be judged. He could tell me anything that troubled him and find comfort in me even if I didn't have much to say. He could cry in front of me and not worry about being beat or called a fag. I paused in mid-throw and my heart caught on the memory of the first time I saw him cry. I was scared and wasn't sure of what to do for him, but I didn't want to leave because he looked so vulnerable. The first time I ever caught sight of his body was when it was bruised and broken, and it was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I followed through with my throw and ran over to the swing to pick up the ball even though the rain was getting harder and harder as the minutes rolled by.

A sharp breath shot through my lungs as the night he left me replayed itself in my head. The way he told me that he basically didn't care about me. There had to be some sort of drug that would make me forget everything. Instead of crying, I threw the pigskin through the tire with all the strength I had in me. Instead of it landing just behind the tire, it went all the way to the back fence. I jogged over to pick it up and started to jog back to my throwing spot.

"That was a pretty good throw." a voice said to my left. I looked over and stopped in my tracks.

He was soaked through to the bone and his now multi-colored hair was plastered to his forehead, but it was him. Him in all his Rancid glory. His eyes were red and puffy, so he had obviously been crying; even though his tears were lost in the rain. I stood there, frozen, just like the first time I saw him cry. It seemed so long ago.

"Hey Joel." he said weakly. I continued to stare, not letting myself get too worked up or too let down. "I know we do this a lot, but uh...we need to talk, man."

Without even waiting for me to answer, he walked over to the tire swing and sat down on it, despite the fact that it was still pouring down rain. I walked over and stood in front of him, nearly eye level with him since the swing was tied up so high.

"I know you're probably surprised to see me again outside of school, but I've been thinking over the past month or so and I've come right down to it." he started. "Have you ever been so scared of something that you ran away from it?"

I nodded.

"I felt like I couldn't breathe right, Joel, almost like water was closing in on me. But I've gotten better, I've changed. Do you see what I'm saying?"

I shook my head. I wanted to hear him say it.

"I'm an idiot. That's the most obvious thing out there, okay?"

"You're not an idiot, Benji." I started, but he cut me off.

"Shut up, Joel. This is hard enough for me. So, I thought about what you told me, right? And I realized that you were right. I don't want anyone else to know about what happened with my family, but for some reason I let you in. I never let anyone see me cry, but for some reason, I can let you see me. I'm scared to open up to anyone else, but there's something about you that tells me that it's okay. I don't know what that is, but it's there. I feel it; and that scares me."


"Joel." he said sternly. I bit my bottom lip and hugged my football to me, shaking my matted hair out of my eyes and blinking against the rain. "I don't want to wake up next to anyone but you. I don't want to go...skirt chasing, if you will, anymore."

He paused and I saw his bottom lip quiver as he tried to compose himself, but he failed miserably and a sob escaped him.

"I thought about all the times that I made you cry and it turned around and made me cry. You're the only person that's ever cared about me as much as you do and that scared me. It felt like it wasn't right, y'know? Like it wasn't supposed to be. My dad always taught me that if things were coming my way then I was in the wrong lane, and that's what I started to think about you. I know you can never trust me again, Joely, but please try."

He fell against the tire swing as sobs wracked his body, dry coughs crippling his breathing.

"I'm so sorry." he cried out, muffled by the tire. I walked behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle, hugging him.

"It's okay, Benj. I forgive you." I said in his ear, but words seemed to make him cry harder. "Stop crying, baby." I pulled him out of the tire and we fell to the ground, him sobbing into my chest as I cradled him.

When his crying subsided enough, he said just barely above a whisper; "I wanted to die, Joely." I looked down at him and wiped his hair out of his face.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Talk to me, Benji."

"About three weeks ago, I tried to OD on Aspirin by chasing them with some Jack." I stopped breathing and my mind went into hyper drive. He laced his fingers through mine and squeezed my hand gently. "Mark swung by not too much later and found me. He called the medics and the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital puking up charcoal. He said that his parents covered the bill and that we could pay them back whenever we could afford to, but fuck. When I was okay enough to stop puking up that shit, I was so scared. I thought about you and how I was going to leave you." I squeezed his hand and brought it up to my mouth, placing a kiss on it. "I'm sorry, Joely." he cried.

"Don't worry about it, baby. Come on, we're going inside where it's warm." I said, holding back my own tears for the sake of his.

We got up and walked inside, dripping a trail of water all the way up to my room. My parent's watched in slight bewilderment as I helped Benji up the stairs, but I just waved them off and continued on my way, getting Benj and I some towels from the closet outside my room.

"Here, dry off and take off those clothes so you can get into some dry ones." I said. He peeled his Rancid shirt off and threw it onto the pile of dirty clothes on my floor, only to do the same with his boxers and pants after kicking off his Chucks and socks. I tossed him one of my shirts and a pair of my jam shorts. He chuckled as he slid them on and shook his head.

"I hate your clothes." he said with a weak laugh. I smiled to see him attempting to be happy and shrugged.

"Give me some of yours then and maybe I won't have such a loser wardrobe." I changed into some dry clothes myself and towel dried my hair before falling onto my bed and beckoning Benji to follow my suit. I pulled him close to me and ran my fingers through his hair to ease him into sleep.

"I'm sorry for everything, Joel." he said quietly.

"Don't think about that now, Benj. You need to get some sleep. You've been through hell lately."

"Like you haven't?"

"I don't matter right now, alright? Just close your eyes and fall asleep." He took my hand in his and kissed it, snuggling more into my embrace.

"I love you, Joely." he whispered with a tiny hint of tears in his voice.

Once again, my breath caught in my chest and my eyes welled up with my own tears. My hand froze in the middle of stroking his hair and everything just seemed to stop. Time was obsolete, school, my family, everything. It was all irrelevant and unimportant compared to what Benji just uttered to me.

"Joel?" he asked unsurely, fear being his most obvious emotion.

"I love you too, Benji." I said, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

I never knew what it was to love until I heard those words from my lover's lips.


{A Message from Strings: So, it took forever, but the sequel is finished. It may not be as long as /Wicked Tickles/, but I'm hoping you all found it just as well written and such. I would like to apologize here and now for the shortness of the final chapter, but the plot and ideas were reaching the end of the rope.

I was worried about getting the emotion out for this chapter. I never really felt that what I wanted my Benji and Joel's to think and feel were expressed fully. It never felt like I was able to put the emotions into the right words. Especially the last break down of Benji's. I wanted to get across the agony and hollowness that he felt when he was crying; the type of emptiness you feel when you cry your hardest and scream at the top of your lungs at the same time.

Any who! I hope you all enjoyed the journey of Benji and Joel. There will be NO sequels to this. This is the end of the line, I'm afraid. This sequel was hard enough to keep up with. There might be more stories out soon. You never know.

Before I go, I would also like to thank everyone that read this faithfully and gave me amazing feedback. You all were amazing and I absolutely adore the support I received. I hope to see you all lingering around some of my other fictions.

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