Work Text:
Benji and Carl had been going steady for a good couple weeks when Benji stayed the night for the first time. And it was an eventful night, to say the least.
The pair had been sitting in Fiona’s room (the door open two inches, as per her request), talking and laughing and making out, when the power outage hit the neighbourhood. Just his luck, Carl thought, something like that happening when his boyfriend (because they were really boyfriends now) was sleeping over.
“Oh shit, yeah! Remember Mrs Flint?” Benji laughed. They were, and had been for a while, making fun of old teachers.
“God, she was a bitch.”
“A huge bitch. But she did buy me skittles once,”
“D’you think it was a euphamism?” Carl grinned.
“Oh, shut up,” Benji sat up and pulled a pillow out from beneath him, throwing it at Carl. Before he could even see if it landed, though, the whole room went dark. The brunette’s ‘ow,’ sort of gave it away, though. Still, he asked, “What the fuck? What happened?”
Carl threw the pillow back before answering, “Not sure. Maybe Fiona forgot to pay the electric bill,” Benji heard the bed creak and saw a vague figure stand up and stretch, so he guessed Carl had gotten out of bed. “Gonna go check.”
“Fiona!” He called, running down the stairs, “Why’d the lights turn off?”
“I don’t know,” Fiona replied, “I’m sure I payed the bill. Maybe an outage?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Carl paused for a moment. “Wait, does that mean the heating will turn off too?” Fiona laughed.
“Well, yeah. That’𝘴 what an outage does, Carl.” She ruffled her brother’s short hair, “If it gets too cold, we can always huddle up, hm? And Benji’s here too…” She winked.
“Ugh, 𝘍𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢!” He rushed back upstairs as fast as he could to get away from the awkward situation. Not to hide his blush. Definetely not.
“No funny business!” Fiona yelled after him.
Less than half an hour later, all the Gallagher kids (plus Mickey and Benji) were sitting either on or around Fiona’s bed. They had decided to use her room since Lip had explained that heat rises, which Carl never really understood. Why would it be warmer higher up if Hell is underground? He shrugged the thought off; it was too cold to think.
The group quickly found their places - Mickey, Ian and Liam on one end of the bed with Fiona and Debbie on the other, and Lip, Carl and Benji on the floor beneath it.
“𝘊-𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵, it’s cold.” Lip said after a moment through chattering teeth, wrapped in about three blankets.
“Thanks, Sherlock,” Ian retorted from his place beneath Mickey. Their limbs were intertwined as the Milkovich layed on top of Ian, head on the redhead’s chest. Liam was curled around one of Mickey’s legs and was clutching Ian’s hand with both of his own.
“Not- not all of us have a human b-blanket, bitch,” Lip remarked. Fiona let out a laugh, even though Debbie was hugging her waist hard enough to bruise. Without looking up, Mickey blindly flipped Lip off.
“You’re just jealous,” Carl grinned at his brother. He was tucked under Benji’s arm as the blonde played with his hair absentmindedly.
“No shit. Some- sometimes I wi-wish I was gay.”
Four replies rang out through the crowded room at the same time (well, five if you count Liam’s “noooo,” when Mickeypulled his leg away). Ian and Benji let out simultanious “no, you don’t”s and Carl practically shouted “not gay,” but Mickey’s “like fuck you do, Gallagher” was definetely the loudest.
“Woah, woah!” Lip almost raised his hands up in defeat, but quickly decided against it in favour of pulling his blankets closer. “What’s up with you guys?”
“Sorry,” Ian muttered, “I just-”
“Fuck that!” Mickey interrupted, sitting up, “I ain’t fuckin’ sorry. You can’t be sayin’ that shit.” Carl’s gaze moved to Lip, only to find his brother sitting there with his eyebrows raised, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face.
“Oh yeah?” Lip challenged, lifting his chin. He seemed to have forgotten all about the cold.
“Oh yeah. I would give close to anything to like chicks. No offence, firecrotch.” He ruffled Ian’s hair with an apologetic, and probably the most geniune Carl had ever seen from him, smile.
“None taken,” Ian assured him with a quick kiss to the forehead. Fiona ‘aww’ed quietly as to not wake up a sleeping Debbie.
Ignoring their interaction, Lip continued, “Well, why?”
“The fuck d’you mean, why?” Mickey asked incredulously, “We live on the fuckin’ southside. My dad is Terry Milkovich. Hell, 𝘐’𝘮 a Milkovich. One wrong asshole finds out what me ‘n red get up to, let alone that I fuckin’ take it, and I’m dead,” He paused to take a much needed breath, “I don’t have a supportive ass family to hide or protect me. My family will be the ones killing me. So don’t fucking start with your ‘I wanna be a fuckin’ fag’ bullshit.”
After a moment of, frankly, eery silence from everyone in the room, Lip chuckled.
“What are you laughing at?” Carl asked, moving away from Benji just enough to pull a soft groan out of him.
“Nothing, nothing. Just- I was kidding. It’s not really that deep, man.”
“Oh, you are about to fuckin’…” Mickey started to leap at Lip, but Ian grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back into his lap. “Let me go, man,” the Milkovich protested, “Let me get at his ugly fuckin’ f-”
“No.” Ian said simply. He pushed Mickey lightly until the angry man was laying face down on Ian’s chest. The redhead began to run his fingers through Mickey’s short hair, smiling down at him, “And you," He pointed at Lip, “shut the fuck up, man.” Lip frowned but stopped talking, instead wrapping himself in his blankets once more.
“Well, shit, guys,” Fiona said with a breathy laugh, “way to distract me from the cold.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Ian asked, grinning as of nothing had ever happened.
“Fuck yeah, it did. Now, I’m gonna try get some shut-eye, so no more fighting.” She demanded pointedly, glaring at Mickey and Lip.
“Yeah, yeah,” The latter mumbled.
Carl shuffled closer to Benji, hugging him tighter than before. “Yeah, g’night,” he said, recieving a few quiet ‘good night’s in response.
“Night, Gallaghers,” Fiona paused, “And Mickey. And Benj-”
She was interrupted by a loud snore. A 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 loud snore. Everyone who was still awake turned to find the root of the sound, and their eyes were led to Benji.
“Is that coming from-” Another snore.
“Jesus christ, that is lou-” Another one, and this time the room seemed to shake with it.
“Holy shit!” Ian whisper-shouted, “Carl, what the fuck?” But Carl was already fast asleep.
“Is he really sleeping through that shit?” Fiona asked, eyes wide.
“I guess,” Mickey answered, the sound muffled by Ian’s chest, “but like fuck will we be sleepin’ tonight."
-
They didn't. The next morning was a nightmare.