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Ben's not going to ask where it came from or why it's just a little bit melty – he's far too distracted by McKinley jumping on top of him in the middle of the night. The bunk gives an unearthly squeal as McKinley bounces and excitedly whispers; "Popsicles! Cherry! By the lake!" Then as quick as he arrived, McKinley rolls off of him and darts for the door.

Still half asleep, but swayed by McKinley and the promise of sweet treats on the hot summer night, Ben stumbles behind him in his pajamas and sneakers. The lake seems so much further from the bunk than he remembers, but the familiar voice softly singing Wouldn't It Be Loverly draws him ever closer.

"I believe someone mentioned popsicles?" He murmurs, leaning forward with one arm wrapped around a tree, mere feet from where McKinley was perched on a flat stone.

"Mmm," he answers, holding up a white wrapper and then a sticky red block with two sticks in it. "I didn't wait up. You're really slow."

"C'mon!" Ben grins, loping toward him before sliding down on the damp grass close at his side. "Some of us actually sleep at night."

"It's only like midnight, square..." McKinley teases, offering him the slightly less licked side. "Tell me that is not the best damn cherry you've ever tasted in your life."

Rolling his eyes, Ben lets him hold the sticks and take the corner between his lips, rolling his tongue over the almost sickeningly sweet coldness. When he glances up at McKinley, the look on his face is nothing short of shock, his red mouth hanging open. "What?" He asks, licking his lips with a smirk. "It's good, no... almost great."

"It's, uh..." McKinley swallows hard, regaining his composure to lick a stray drip up his side. "It's the forbidden nature of stolen goods. Makes everything taste better just knowing you're not supposed to have it."

"Oh?" Ben quirks an eyebrow, taking another long taste when it's offered. "Is that so?"

"Uh huh..." McKinley whimpers, "Jesus, if you're going to give it a blow job just take the whole thing so I can watch."

"Like this?" Ben laughs, taking it away from him to slide the full cold pop into his mouth before pulling it out with a syrupy, wet sound. "That's not a blow job."

McKinley blinks several times, swallows again, and then shakes his head. "Oh, and you're the expert? You've given like what... a hundred BJs?"

"No! No... zero... but, I've seen like magazines." Ben shrugs, feeling the blush creep up under his collar. "But I will, someday... you know, like maybe tomorrow."


"Yeah, I mean... we've got all summer, right?" Ben takes another lingering lick, watching McKinley's eyes grow wider with each dart of his tongue.

"All summer," McKinley confirms, taking away the popsicle before breaking it down the center to take his half back. "Even like tomorrow is good. I mean, I've got a thing in the morning but, whatever."



Ben smiles, letting the silence creep in save for the occasional slurp out of one followed by a moan from the other. Then, nibbling off the last dripping piece, both of their mouths and hands and McKinley's shirt stained red, he offers; "I think I know a place we can go... if you don't mind being a little late for lunch."

McKinley swallows again, the stick poking out of his mouth as he seems to consider the offer. "Sure, yeah... that'd be great. Like... really great."



Grinning ear to ear, Ben leans close and brushes an almost chaste kiss on his lips – tasting only the sweetness. "Night McKinley."

"Yeah. Night." He nods dumbly in response as Ben pushes up and heads back to his bunk.