Benji set down the microphone he had painted, and buried the one Aaron gave him in the back of the supply closet. After a quick touch of his fingers to the painted microphone to make sure it was dry, Benji made a complicated series of hand gestures. When Aaron just stared at him, clueless, Benji heaved an aggravated sigh. "Follow me, and keep quiet," he directed, adding under his breath, "My brother would have understood that."
"Why didn't you bring him, then?" Aaron's whisper seemed loud and harsh in the dark silence of the theatre.
Benji shot him a glare. "He said he had a test this morning, and I should take you instead.”
Aaron's eyes widened with surprise at the lie. Harry's first class was the same as Aaron's third, and the test was in more than a week. Which meant that Harry had lied, and finally gone through with his threat to trick Benji into spending more time with Aaron. Aaron would have to remember to be mad at him for it. In the meantime, he quietly padded along behind Benji.
The door the boys had come in through opened as Benji deposited the new microphone on the podium. Aaron froze, blinded by the sunlight, terrified he was about to be caught.
Benji, who was used to thinking quickly when his plans were ruined, shoved Aaron behind the curtains and pinned him against the wall to the side.
Aaron stood still except for the quick rise and fall of his chest. His heart thrummed, and he could feel the echoing rhythm of Benji's heart through the few layers of clothing that separated them. Aaron swallowed hard, tipping his head back against the wall; it was the only part of his body that he could move, the only bit of him that wasn't in line with Benji's.
The sound of off-key humming filled the theatre, and both boys went rigid. Aaron's breath began to rasp in his throat, but Benji was quick to slap a hand over his mouth. The boys' eyes met, chocolate brown to forest green, identical in the way they shone with fear and excitement.
The sound of humming got closer, louder, but it wasn't important any more. The longer Benji stared at Aaron, the more endearing he found the way his hair fell into those warm brown eyes. Slowly, the fear began to fade from Benji's eyes, replaced by something softer. His hand inched down, fingers dragging against Aaron's lips in a way that made the boy’s eyes close in an attempt to keep the sensation from overwhelming him. They were both breathing light and fast as Benji leaned into Aaron as if drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull.
Aaron felt Benji get impossibly closer; even if he wanted to get away, he had nowhere to go, as every part of him that wasn't pressed against Benji's lean length, was pressed against the brick wall behind him. He found it strange that, despite that fact, he was perfectly happy where he was. His heart, which had only just began to steady, stuttered as Benji's breath fluttered along his lips.
The fear began to spike again, and Aaron began to feel trapped by a pressure that still made his head spin. "Benji," the boy's name came out soft, pleading; Aaron wasn't sure if he was pleading for more or less.
The answer to that question didn't matter; Benji reeled back like Aaron had hit him, his face pale with shock. Aaron was too busy battling his warring feelings of relief and disappointment to notice the other boy's emotional war; hope and despair, fear and pleasure, timeless sorrow and a breathtaking joy flitted across Benji's face because of one simple fact. Aaron had known his name. Without guessing, without being told, Aaron had known which of the twins was stealing his breath, and that was a first.
The boys looked at each other across the length of empty space between them, caught between falling into each other's arms or running away while they still had a chance. Hopeful, tentative, Benji took a faltering step forward; Aaron's heart fluttered in his throat.
The slam of a door shattered their world, shaking them and reminding them both of their personal reasons to protect their hearts at all costs. Benji especially was stunned- he very rarely had romantic feelings for anyone, and it had never been a boy. Desperately, he shoved those feelings down, denying them by locking them away where they could never be touched. Then, collecting himself, he peered out through the curtains.
"I think he's in the light box," he said softly, eyes trained on the balcony where the system that controlled the lighting was installed.
Aaron found it much harder to control himself, but pulled himself together. "Does that mean we can leave?" he asked, his hoarse voice tearing at his throat.
"If we go fast,” Benji confirmed. He twitched the curtains open, gesturing for Aaron to flit through and following close behind.
Aaron didn't need to be told to run- he made a headlong dash for the door. When he yanked on the handle, it didn't turn. Locked. "Damn!" Aaron spat.
"Move," Benji said tensely.
Aaron did as he was told, his eyes glued to the light box as Benji knelt in front of the door and worked his magic- just not quick enough.
"Hey! Stop right there!" the voice that had produced the off-key humming rose in volume to fill the auditorium.
"Hurry, Benji," Aaron hissed between gritted teeth, watching a tall, ungainly man drop his cleaning rag and head toward them, "Come on, he's coming this way!"
"I know!" Benji didn't bother to keep his voice low as he frantically worked at the lock.
The janitor was only a few rows of seating away when the door finally opened under Benji's hand. The boys were out and running in seconds, holding hands up against the blinding sun. They ran as fast as they could, pursued by the lumbering janitor, and didn't stop even after the voice faded away. They sprinted all the way to the front hall of the school building before they stopped.
Panting, sweating, and exhilarated, they leaned against each other as they fought to catch their breath. They glanced at each other now and then, only to look away quickly. On the sixth time, their gazes caught, and held. Silent moments passed- and then they both broke into gales of laughter.
Three hours later, Aaron was back in the theatre- but this time, he was supposed to be. He had Kris on one side and Harry on the other, with the other host boys in front of them. Aaron waited, breath held and tensed up despite Kris's amused expression, for the dean to walk onstage. There was a smattering of applause as the dean picked up the microphone, cleared his throat, and began to speak.
Aaron would never forget the high-pitched, grainy alien voice that came out of the voice-modifying microphone. He wouldn't forget the way the dean shook his head with a tolerant smile, and continued his speech as planned while riotous laughter filled the theatre. He wouldn't forget the host club boys' laughter, their high fives and broad smiles.
And most importantly, Aaron would never be able to forget the way Benji looked at him over the back of his chair, winking, and said, "Couldn't have done it without you."
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