Rated: M

I do not own Ben 10: Alien Force.

A/N: Comments are highly appreciated!

Harsh wintry wind slaps against the frigid windowpanes, leaving harsh sounds of smashing and cracking cascading through the dark bedroom. Some of which louder than others, quickly stir the brunette sleeping soundly to life. Rubbing heavy sleep from his emerald stained eyes, he scans the ceiling of his room—spotted with dancing shadows from the burning sun outside his window. Leaning on his side, his spine lefts off a familiar crack, and he checks his bedside clock: 9:00 AM.

"Ughh…" the only audible sound in the room, save the constant whipping wind, escapes from Ben's chapped lips. Scrunching his ocean blue comforter higher up his body, the young boy tries to keep whatever heat his body's produced underneath the blankets.

Suddenly realizing the current time, his mind goes into overdrive flicking back and forth thoughts of school, time, exams, and tardiness. Poked to life by what would seem like a cosmic entity, the brunette discards several layers of blankets and rolls out of bed meeting his hardwood floors with a unpleasant, thud.

"Son of a…" he thinks aloud to no one in particular seeming as he's all alone in his dark-filled room. The only light emitting its solid orange glow is Ben's alarm clock steadily reading out the obviously tardy time.

Crawling half-heartedly towards to his wooden door that seems like an enternity from where he's scrunched up, the palms of his hands make contact with the freezing wood floors. Reaching his pre-frostbitten hand towards the doorknob he turns it roughly halfway and tumbles forward through the now open doorway.

In a mess of carpet fibers and dust bunnies, his face ends up meshed in the beige carpeting that blankets the entire hallway. Inhaling deeply, the faint smell of carpet cleaner resonates within the floor—while the strong aroma of pancakes perks his senses highly.

Ascending from the stairs that are exactly left from the young boy tumbled face first, a red-haired girl treks lightly up the steps, barely squeaking the blatantly ancient wood. "What are you doing?" she asks far too plainly, "…oh and happy snow day."

"Snow…day?" the words bounce off his skull and land meaningless on the carpet alongside the temporally amnesiatic brunette. He manages to get onto his feet slightly before his sister continues her unsympathetic speech.

"Yeah bonehead," a nickname, his older sister Gwen hasn't called Ben in years, leaves her mouth coated with a sharp tone of rage, "as in 'you don't go to school.'"

Piecing the fragments of her artificial puzzle together slowly but surely in his head, the thought finally accumulates into something rational. A smirk makes its presence known on his still sleep-ridden face, one of toothy origins.

"Ugh," she sighs pinching the bridge of nose, "yes, yes, wonderful—but unlike some people, who can sit around all day and do nothing…I have a Karate lesson in 15 minutes." Looking at her watch quizzically, she lets out a curse and does a slick 180.

"…Which I am now going to be late for," she mutters to herself while vaulting the staircase downward, three steps at a time.

Slow walking towards the top of the stairs, he wraps his arms around the top banister of the hall and rests his chin on the wood, which pricks his skin as he shifts his weight. Frantically racing from room to room, Gwen's body becomes a blur of orange and fabric as karate uniforms and winter jackets mesh into one complete outfit.

"…Oh and Kevin's making breakfast," Turning around just barely enough to eye up the shocked expression on the young boy's face, her mouth melts into a sinister soft smile.

"What do you mean Kevin's making breakfast?" he hisses out leaving every word dripping more and more with disgust. Before the brunette can salvage a solid answer from Gwen, her back's already turned against him and her mind miles away in a different place.

The sound of car keys, coat zippers, and the abrupt smell of cold barrage Ben's ears and nose—giving him more than enough evidence that his sister is officially out of his hair. For the next couple hours at least. Figures. The medium-sized suburban home seems quiet without her constant voice vibrating off the walls, and the only sounds currently taking up her place are the cars rolling by outside. Scents of various breakfast foods invade his nostrils as bacon, eggs, toast, and pancakes waft their way up the stairwell and home in on the way-past-famished teen.

The grumbling in his stomach, matched with his natural curiosity embarks his legs on a journey down the stairs. Taking each step like it's a life or death espionage assignment, he gradually reaches the first floor and his last footstep send him sliding across the hardwood floors. Above the sizzling bacon, a loud smashing sound emanates from the nearby living room, which alerts Kevin inside the kitchen.

" Is that you making all that damn noise Benjy?" the raven-haired teen sternly states without raising his eyes off the pan in front of him, for risk burning the meat.

A small groan is all the response the, now certainly bruised and hungry, brunette can conjure up—twisted up beside the couch. "Benjy?" Ben thinks to himself while reaching far back into his memory to the first time Kevin started to call him that. He utterly hated when he did call him that.

With a sharp click, the knob providing the gas to the stovetop shuts off—and the sizzling gently subsides to a slow popping sound. Emerging from the kitchen and leaning lazily against the door frame is Kevin—sporting a plate full of steaming bacon.

"You know…I don't normally condone eating on the floor, so you might want to freshen up there Tennyson before you take a seat at the table," Kevin smirks lightly, laughing more internally than externally, at the brunette's sad misfortune.

"Dont'chya mean my table," flipping his legs down from their vertical angle, he flops his whole body on the floor and lifts his upper half with his hands, scratching his head after he's upright.

Rows of white teeth is all the response Ben receives before the older teen vanishes into the bright fluorescence of the kitchen—with the pleasant smell of breakfast no less.

Fearing his lack of sustenance might last all day if he misses this opportunity to eat, he begrudgingly lifts his small but toned frame off the floor and woozily into the kitchen. Taking the seat closest to the doorway, he quickly finds the table scattered with plates and plates filled with a plethora of colours and smells. Eggs piled high dot one side of the table, while a literal mountain of toast take up roughly half of the remaining space—while pancakes drenched in maple syrup are roughly thrown on Ben's plate.

"Thanks?" the brunette quizzically answers, not knowing whether to be gracious or fearful of the older teen's forcefulness.

Met with a questionable grunt of an answer, Ben takes it upon himself to help himself to the bounty of food laid out in front of him. Letting his famished stomach do most of the choosing, his eyes dart from plate to plate as he mashes whatever he can find higher and higher on his metal fork.

Seconds of silence bleed into minutes of misery, as the growing indifference between the two boys is increasing with every bite of food. Kevin's breathing intensifies as the pile of doughy cakes and scrambled eggs gradually becomes less and less. Shocked at his ability to not choke, Ben's thoughts are scattered with the idea to start a conversation before the situation becomes any more awkward.

Lifting his gaze off the plate in front of him, Ben's jade eyes land on the raven-haired teen sitting opposite him. His tight t-shirt fits comfortably around his neck and forearms, exposing every muscles and vein, causing something to shift inside the brunette's mind. Something that could almost be described as joy. With each motion, every vein in the older boy's arm ripples with life and vigor making turning away something of a hardship for Ben.

Noticing that the younger teen has been entranced in a deep stare directly at him, Kevin's attention is taken away from his plate of food and at Ben.

"Something the matter Benjy?" the older teen smugly says reaching over the table and gently flicks the brunette's forehead, leaving a red mark in its wake.

Taken aback by the sudden introduction of violence, Ben's immediate reaction was denial, "I wasn't doing anything Kevin…" He pouts.

Interest flickers on Kevin's smirk-filled face, leading his boredom on with something to pick at.

"You so were, you were lost in a gaze of my awesomeness," Arrogance seeps out of his pores with every word he utters, making Ben surprisingly crimson in the cheeks.

"Aw, don't blush for me Benjy," he continues on, this time ascending from his seated position and trekking over to the brunette's side of the wooden table. Pinching his left cheek like a long-lost grandparent would be, anger brims at the bottom of Ben's chest—raising the temperature of the kitchen a few degrees warmer.

With one solid shove, the brunette's forearm makes contact with Kevin's chest, which the latter's abs sufficiently blow backwards returning it to Ben. The force of the shove sends Ben back against the wall of the kitchen, cracking the sheetrock—causing eggshell sized pieces dancing to the tiled floor.

"Shit…" Kevin's worrisome side kicks at the sign of the Brunette's obvious pain, and without putting much though to it, lays him backside down on the kitchen table. In the process knocking every plate, utensil, and cup smashing to the floor in a sea of multicolored glass. Disregarding the blatant destruction the older boy was causing, his main concern lay just below his chest—Ben's bruised arm.

Thinking back to his days of high school health class and the generalness of where thigns are in this house, he remembers that the Tennyson's keep an emergency kit tucked away neatly underneath the sink. Sprinting as fast as his feet can take him, he picks up the box in record time and returns to the brunette's side. Unlatching the case, he riffles through the contents baffled as to what he might be looking for. Butterfly bandages, skin creams, and thermometers all fly over the raven-haired boy's shoulder and onto the debris littered floor behind him. Finding a thick roll of gauze at the bottom of the case, he quickly begins tying it around the black and blue section of Ben's arm.

"Kevin…" the younger boy says with more sly laughter than general pain, as he reaches over his own chest and grabs hold of the older boy's trembling forearm. "Kevin," Ben tries again, this time a little louder.

"I'm so so so sorry Ben, I didn't mean to hurt you, I so didn't mean to throw you against a fucking wall, oh shit, you're going to be fine I promise, oh shit…" his voice trails off as the roll of pasty white gauze comes to an end, and the brunette has a three inch thick bandage around his mid forearm. Panting heavily, the older teen takes his first glance at Ben's whose eyes are filled to the brim with tears, tears stained with the essence of humour rather than injury.

"Shit, what's wrong—what did I fucking do now," his voice pings with even more distress than before as his head lowers closer to the brunette's red cheeks. Kevin's hot breath radiates Ben's entire face, leaving tiny sweat marks in their wake.

Taking his ungauzed arm from Kevin's own, he wraps it around the back of the latter's neck—grasping a tuft of hair in the process. Lowering his concerned face closer to his own, the condensation from the previous medical care is present on the raven-haired's forehead. In a literal smash of emotions, the two boys collide lips in a surge of uncovered feelings and a wave of relief.

Heavy pants pass between the two intensely lustful teens, as neither of them want to come back to reality for a breath of air. Snow piles high on the bay window above the sink, but the air inside raises in passion mistaking even the wisest of person to think of a balmy spring morning. Surprised emotions come to the surface as Ben's soft lips take control over Kevin's, imposing their will over his every feature. Prying at his mouth, the brunette's tongue yearns to be inside the other boy's mouth, practically begging to explore this unknown region known as Kevin.

Pleasing the younger, the older opens his moist mouth and the two engage deeper inside each other's mouth. New feelings and urges take over even the most polite and honest actions of Ben as he pulls the older boy fully on top of him, putting stress on the fragile table.

"Mhm…ungh," a light moan flutters from the brunette's preoccupied mouth, insinuated that further action from the older is invited highly.

With such a royal invitation, the raven-haired wastes no time in releasing his lock on Ben's reddening lips and letting both of them gasp for much needed air. With not as much as a single sound, the older proceeds to remove his shirt revealing a chest full of abs glistening with sweat. The emerald eyes of the brunette light up in ecstasy and beckon for their presence in between his fingers. Answering Ben's pray with action, the far more toned boy lowers himself back onto the young boy and removes his pants without question.

"Kevin, move your hands lower…nnhg, just a little…ahh!" with the piercing sound of a call of pleasure, Kevin's sole index finger reaches around the brunette's waist and to his hole, hidden behind a layer of briefs. Prying at the stretchiness of the fabric, Kevin playfully inserts his finger as far as he can go due to the obvious blockage. Teasing the younger to certain orgasm, he removes his hand and continues his work on his lips.

Removing Ben's supply of oxygen, the younger soon relies on the larger boy to provide him with the air to breath. Working his way to his neck, the older leaves his mark on his tanned skin pricking little spots with his teeth to tease and prod the younger's wishes. Gradually moving his hand up from the bottom of Ben's loose fitting shirt, the older finds himself at the younger's chest, brimming with tone and muscle.

"Guess all that soccer really pays off Tennyson?" With that comment, Kevin rips the shirt off the brunette faster than he can crack a short smile in return. Moving his wet lips from Ben's own—they land hard and passionate on his nipples, taking each one separately in his mouth and refusing to let them go. Sending shockwaves of pleasure and intimacy through his neurons, the younger's whole body twitches in joy forcing Kevin to increase his attention to detail. With such an abrupt maneuver, the gauze wrapped around the brunette's forearm comes quickly undone, falling helplessly to the tile floor below. Met with a stern grasp of his hair, Kevin is forced to abide by the younger's wishes and look him straight in his jade eyes. Lust and undeniable attract swirl around in his pupils, calling out for the older boy to be inside him—begging Kevin to make him his own.

Appalled by Ben's sudden urge to rush, the agreement between the two seems almost instantaneous, with the last of Ben's pants being removed legs by leg. Revealing his swelling member trapped beneath a layer of black fabric, Kevin's urges force him to forcefully remove the briefs entirely and pushes Ben further down the table facing the older teen—eyes lock in a solid lustful entrance. Examining the brunette's hole further, he traces his knuckles up and down the exterior, teasing the younger boy with every muscle in his body. Kevin positions himself behind the young boy—as the latter pants in anticipation. Inserting two of his index fingers in his mouth, he can still taste Ben everywhere. His sweet taste coating his every section of his mouth, it was inescapable. Placing them right by the brunette's exposed hole, he gently sticks one of the two moist fingers inside the untouched entrance.

Moans and screams of delight explode out of Ben as his whole back jerks in a rhythm of motions and spasms, each more intense than the last. Prying deeper and deeper inside his hole, the raven-haired teen starts to move his wet finger in small circles, stretching the muscles and allowing a second finger to place inside as well. Small pants of shock spurt out from the lips of the brunette, as they are removed just as quickly and replaced with something larger. Taking his own throbbing member in his palm, he quickly and effortless slides it in to Ben's entrance—followed by shrieks of agony and slight pleasure. Lifting the younger's legs over his broad shoulders, Kevin develops a strong system and starts moving in and out of the small boy, with each thrust more powerful than the last.

"Kevin…ugh Kevin, harder, harder," the small boy coughs out in between winces of pleasure. Deeper and deeper the older boy ventured, until suddenly a single thrust sent the brunette over the top in a tsunami of pleasure. "Kevin, h-hit that again, fuck me right t-there." His eyes flutter shut as the older resumes his work and drives once again further in the young boy. Taking both legs in his left hand, he moves his sweat-coated hand towards Ben's member, which is oozing precum by the bucket load. Taking the entire thing in his palm, he quickly starts stroking it furiously, sending the excess liquid spurting over Kevin's chiseled chest. Nearing the edge of the cliff, the younger's face is now completely coated in sweat, his hair pushed back by the older's forceful thrusts and by his disarray.

"Uhh Kevin, I'm gonna…I'm gonna…ahhh!" without having to finish the sentence, loads and loads of hot cum shoot out of Ben's manhood, covering Kevin's hand completely and spurting the rest on his chest, mixing in with the other fluids. The mere sight of his own cum, Kevin's member reaches its maximum and releases it's seed into the brunette's asshole, coating the inside with white. Taking his cum covered hand closer to his face, his tongue gently licks off the remaining liquid, savouring the taste of the younger teen in every drop. Feeling sufficient, Kevin for a final time lowers his lips to the trembling brunette's and the rest of his seed mesh with his own saliva, oozing out of the sides of his mouth—his own will power unable to contain it.

Taking out his member from Ben's entrance, the remaining drops of cum land on the wooden table alongside the gallons of other liquids that make up the slippery mess. Dripping down the table's four legs, cum and sweat pool at the bottom getting on the fragmented pieces of china and broken glass.

Taking a couple extra breaths of air before speaking Ben's emerald eyes look longingly up at his partner, "you're so cleaning this up." Two smiles appear on both the teen's faces as Kevin simple lays on top of the brunette, encased in a trance given off by Ben.