For a second Ben contemplated what should he do next. Could he just do as he fucking pleased, trusting Armitage to stop him? He would do that if they were really in a tent, in the middle of the wilderness, so why not now? He grabbed Armitage’s shoulders and toppled him back, climbing over him and bracketing his hips.
“Okay?” he asked. Armitage nodded. The music was loud, the bass heavy. Ben bent down, and kissed him.
The Ghost Under My Bed || Halloween Collab with @longstoryshortikilledhim
It’s now on AO3! It’s been 2 weeks of nonstop brainstorming and intense creative workshop, all thanks to my comrade in crime Johi. ilu bby 😘💕👻🎃
dispatches from the dumpster 