kinda wanna fight, kinda wanna make out

Bennett let out a sharp breath, knocking his head back against the wall for a little clarity. He waited, for a moment, even when Ignacio left. Especially when he left. Needed some fucking order, and that was difficult with sheepie around, he was now remembering.

Bennett licked his lips, and kept his eyes to the ceiling. Tried not to let his mind float back into the realm of stupid, lust fueled fantasies.

Right, because dating was happening. Ha.

Maybe he could just, piss the other off enough that he'd- no, no. Get it the fuck together. Was this punk really his sexual ideal? Seriously? The reactions didn't point to anything else, but the part of him that wasn't an absolute moron driven by simple bodily functions was more than a little pissed off. Which only. Threw more in the fire. Ah, his mouth was dry.

It was only noon, and he already wanted a drink. Alcohol and sex. He scrunched up his nose. You're better than this.

Was he?

You have to be.

The way he was chasing after this boy said otherwise. Bennett sighed at the finality, and followed Nacho outside.

He caught up quickly, there just in time to be looked back at, and to pretend he'd been there the whole time. He raised an eyebrow and shoved his hands in his pockets, moving up ahead again now that he'd spotted the place they were going.

Quieter than before.

Date. Huh. This was happening, wasn't it.

Bennett's eyes glazed over a bit as he watched Nacho talk to some friend of his. He shook off the creeping threat of boredom and stared at his date, closing off everything else. He was so annoyed. So oddly fascinated. He'd already been caught, getting dragged along here when he should've simply pushed his own intentions or left. That couldn't mean anything good, however casually he outwardly treated it.

Clearly he'd been dealing with dull things for far too long. That was a problem, when it was built up. Could Nacho work as a petty distraction? There was something… something about him. He had a spark. He was reactive. Ben liked that. He didn't want to say he needed it, because he didn't need anything, he was self-reliant and found the concept insulting. However, he knew useful when he saw it.

He wasn't sure how long he'd be playing this game, but he'd make it worthwhile. He didn't need to be ruled by it like a fucking animal.

After sitting down, Ben only acknowledged Nacho's friend long enough to offer a sardonic smile. Believe me, he was aware of the situation and how it looked. He felt the same way. Maybe it'd be assumed that this wasn't actually a romantic situation (half-hearted bribery to get into someone's pants, the modern epitome of romance), but instead, Nacho was having a meeting with a loan shark after fucking something up. That sounded more realistic.

Conversation was happening. Ben stopped tapping the menu and looked at Nacho expectantly. What was his charming date topic going to be? Go on, impress, you're the one who pushed this.

Ben wasn't impressed. He tilted his head. "You may be getting a little ahead of yourself, Ignacio. If you have hopes of having some sort of sugar daddy, I think you need to up your efforts for it. Would I be receiving any special benefits from dating a… what are you currently doing with yourself, exactly?"

He blinked lazily. "Maybe we can talk after the real purpose of this outing. That may be more convincing."

Bennett couldn't help it, he was grinning and a little flushed himself by the time Nacho was done (and had gotten himself in trouble). Now they were talking. This was what had gotten Ben interested in the first place, it was all coming back again. He never should've doubted his own judgement. Not even a little bit. Ha.

He waved over a waiter and ordered, ever so casually, before turning back to Nacho, chin rested in a palm. He kept grinning. "Ahh. You're so cute. And easy… to provoke, that is." Look at that lovely red. Ben peered at him with playful amusement and attraction. "You're the one asking about special benefits right off the bat. This is a first date, isn't it? You're hurting my feelings, making me think you're just using me for perks. And after taking me out to such a nice place, too. A guy can't help but lash out a little."

He may have technically been a goat, but Ben was watching Nacho like a cat right then, smiling as he lied through his teeth and couldn't even vaguely fake a hurt tone. Like he wasn't taking it seriously, and really, he wasn't. The words didn't match him at all. It was a blatant joke.

He wondered if that measly excuse for a career made Nacho extra flexible. He'd have to wait and see. "Hmm. What kind of dancing? Where?" He resisted the urge to make a comment about going to visit Nacho at work and slipping a few dollars into the waistband of his underwear. Too soon.

Nacho was so weird. Ben didn't get him! All those heated emotions wrapped up in a fluffy container, constantly threatening to explode, it was wild. It would be easy to say the two of them had absolutely nothing in common. And yet… Ben wasn't certain if it was that Nacho had more going on past the surface, or that he himself was connecting through all the rougher instincts, but there was simply more comfort here than he had with any of those other shitty excuses for zodiacs. What a bunch of disappointments.

Was it ironic that he felt comfortable with someone who had just thrown a vase at him? Maybe a little bit. Just a little.

Ben simply let it happen, unflinching aside from briefly closing his eyes at the impact, feeling blood trickle down his face. The wound wouldn't take long to heal, so it meant little to him. He stared at Nacho, wondering what he was expecting next here. He probably wasn't expecting anything. Nacho didn't think. He acted.

Ben could relate to that, more than he'd ever admit. He stood up, vaulted over the table, and tackled Nacho, ready for a damn ugly scuffle. Fuck consequences and social norms, he was gonna bite this uppity little shit.

Bennett ignored the awkward crashing of chairs and gasps from the other people in the restaurant. When he was in a fight, he was fucking in it. Back in his younger days, on the cold streets, this sort of thing filled you with just the right sort of heat and feverish energy. Shit was ruthless. You couldn't afford to be half-assed with it, no second guessing yourself or backing out. Everyone was an enemy, and they'd kill you the moment they got the chance- but winning, and the thrill of it all, was worth the risk in the end.

Ben grinned through the blood in his teeth, and only added to any violence Nacho offered him. Sheepie didn't hold back a damn thing. Despite his hair and cute looks, he wasn't very soft, and Ben liked dragging that out. He didn't give the other any time to think, because who the hell needed to think in things like this? It was pretty straightforward. Nacho roughed him up, he roughed Nacho up, and it was the best foreplay around for people like them.

He didn't register the yelling, not until their scenery had already been switched. He landed on his feet, and brushed himself off. He quietly felt at the bruises forming on his face. They'd be gone quick, like the wound from the vase, but sure did fucking sting. He wanted some compensation.

Ben looked at Nacho, who seemed disoriented. He really didn't care, and was confident he could give a good reminder of their situation. He glanced from side to side of the alleyway, then stepped forward to get up in Nacho's space, back him into a wall. "Oh no. Nonono. You don't get to just shrug that off, not with the way you were behaving." He sneered. "So rude, no class. When you drag me on a date but constantly act a heartbeat away from snapping, it does little to convince me that this isn't what you always wanted." He raised an eyebrow, trailing a hand down Nacho's chest while boxing him in. "So why keep complaining?"

Ben had said all he needed to here, he decided, and let that hand sneak under Nacho's stupid pop culture t-shirt, enjoying warm skin. He licked his own slightly bloodied lips, then leaned forward to claim Nacho's. Fuck him. Fight him. Whatever works. This was his version of a proper date.