A Moment of Silence

Chapter 1: The Kiss

A/N This is a slash story, kids. There's nothing graphic depicted, but if such things are not to your taste, don't read it. Seriously. If you do read it anyway and feel the need to complain, don't bother.

Fusion Fall and all the characters therein are the property of Cartoon Network and their respective creators.

The title for this story has been graciously loaned to me by Deserthaze from a drawing posted on deviantART by the same name. The link to it is in my profile.

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Too tired to move, the two teenage boys sat on the floor and did nothing beyond rest for a moment. To their relief the silence between them was not an uncomfortable one. Finally Ben looked over at Dexter. The younger boy had his eyes closed and he sighed as he dropped his head back onto the couch behind them.

"Would now be a bad time to apologize again?" wondered Ben.

Dexter didn't move or open his eyes, but he did frown a little. "Whatever for?" he asked, the words slurring slightly.

Ben smiled, forever amused at the redhead's accent. "Last month."

A snort, and then Dexter let out a laugh. "Are you still worked up about that?" He was smiling as he opened his eyes and looked Ben's way. "It wasn't your fault. You had no control over the situation."

"Still. Doesn't say much for the mating habits of Cerebrocrustaceans."

Dexter chuckled. "I doubt they'd think highly of our notions of mating displays and rituals."

Ben sighed, glad that Dexter's opinion hadn't changed since the last time he'd apologized. "Well, I still feel bad for putting you in that position. If it was pretty embarrassing for me, it must have been a lot worse for you."

He shrugged and avoided the issue. "It was interesting to see how the Omnitrix could affect you."

Ben shook his head. "It almost affected you, too, pal."

He glanced over to see Dexter studying him with blue eyes that were at once bright with amusement and weary from a long and trying day. An extended pause followed and Dexter's pleasure did not fade as he regarded the older teen.

"Aren't you the least curious?" asked the scientist.

"What about?"

Slowly Dexter smiled. "What it would be like."

Ben blinked, catching up. As usual, Boy Genius was leaps and bounds ahead of him. Small wonder Brainstorm was so turned on by Dexter's intellect. It was overwhelming.

His brain finished the unspoken point of Dexter's statement:

. . . to kiss me.

Only Dexter, his least likely of friends, could have asked him such a question without fear of an honest reply. He was the last person to hold curiosity against a person, himself included. Even now Ben suspected that the younger boy was asking more for the sake of satisfying his own curiosity. Probably he was wondering if Ben saw now what Brainstorm had seen.

Ben could have lied, he could have said no, but he didn't want to. For all he was a pain in the neck and arrogant and a modern-day Napoleon, Dexter was a very good friend and he had never, to Ben's knowledge, told him an untruth. If Ben lied now, Dexter would accept that and let the matter drop, but he found he had no desire to avoid the truth. Dexter was quite correct that the situation last month was not Ben's fault, but there was no denying that Ben, driven by Brainstorm's hormones as the Cerebrocrustacean had gone through a fertile cycle, had pursued Dexter and had tried in every way to quite literally claim him as a mate. The fact that Dexter was sitting here with him now, alone, on the floor of his private quarters outside of his laboratory, spoke volumes. The fact that Ben hadn't destroyed his friend's trust and regard was quite enough to earn the scientist an honest reply.

"Yeah," he slowly admitted, looking over at Dexter with a wry smile. "I've wondered."

He watched Dexter for any sign of a negative reaction or disgust, but true to form his friend offered no rejection of the truth. Dexter's world was very black and white – things worked or they didn't, and if they didn't, it was his job to figure out why. Right now, Ben realized, Dexter was making sure that their friendship still worked and could weather this storm. To Ben, at least, surviving the indignity of lusting after his best friend was a guarantee of friendship that could endure anything fate threw at them.

"So have I," Dexter quietly stated, never looking away.

For the longest moment Ben did not know how to respond. What would it be like to kiss Dexter? To be kissed by Dexter? A month ago he had been longing, dying, aching to find out exactly that for reasons that had nothing to do with curiosity and everything to do with lust. He was so very, very glad his – or rather, Brainstorm's - desires had not been satisfied then. Such wanton, uninvited taking would have hurt Dexter and destroyed them both. But here, now, past that crisis, they were on solid ground.

And . . . could it be possible that Dexter was offering . . . ?

"Really?" he asked stupidly.

Dexter nodded in confirmation. "Really. You sound surprised."

He tripped over his own words. "Well, yeah, kinda. I just didn't think . . . I mean . . . y'know, I . . . dunno."

He was making no sense. Dexter spared him.

"I invite you to satisfy your curiosity, Ben."

Words suddenly failed him. How was it that Dexter could speak with such calm, such directness, without sacrificing any of his dignity? If Ben had come out with such a line, it would have fallen flat.

Which was exactly why Dexter said it, his subconscious provided.

"I . . . uh . . ."

Dexter reached up with one purple-gloved hand and pulled off his glasses, setting them aside. Without them he was as good as blind, and if he had been any further away from Ben than he was at this moment he would not have been able to see him.

"Actions speak louder than words, Mr. Tennyson."

He grinned. He was being teased not for what he wanted to do right now, but his complete inability to form a sentence. Fine. If that was what Boy Genius wanted, who was he to deny his best friend?

There was not a word of protest raised as Ben reached out with both hands and seized the front of Dexter's lab coat, yanking the redhead in close against him and capturing those lips with his own. Dexter's lips were warm, a little chapped, totally different from a girl's. He kissed totally different than a girl, too, though in exactly what way Ben could not hope to say as he focused on the contact and the warmth they were suddenly sharing. It was no less appealing, a strong, assured, welcoming caress as evidenced by the slim arms that wrapped around his neck despite their awkward angle against the sofa.

Dexter wanted this.

And Ben Tennyson abruptly realized that he had wanted this for longer than he knew.

Curiosity took a very long time to gratify on both sides, and for every question answered that night, ten more rose up and demanded satisfaction.