AN – This is Bonnie's POV about what happened in Chapter 7 when she and Ben disappeared after the show...Enjoy

Chapter 7 Grauptake

I couldn't help but grin as I watched him grunt with the effort of lifting the last couple of lines from the top of Jackson's amp. The sweat pooling in the back of his neck was positively lickable, and honestly, the thought of the taste of it was slowly culling the army of butterflies in my stomach.

"Bet I could strike one faster than you," I said suddenly, making him jump, and stunning myself into wide-eyed amazement.

"Alright, crazy chick." He smirked, "Enjoy the show?"

"You know it, enjoy my beer?"

"Nicest thing I've had all night." He smirked, his grin ridiculously wide, but his eyes sparkling with something I didn't even know could have existed. "You think you're a better roadie than the guy who does this every night, for a living?" He smirked again, "Bull-shit."

"Loser buys the winner dinner." I smirked, entirely confident, and even if I lost, well hell, I'd be buying him dinner. Ben. Fucking. Graupner. Man of many of my dreams, and many, many more of my dirty fantasies.

"You know what, chick," And by the smirk, I knew he was calling me that to annoy me, "You're on." There was another pause, "Ladies first."

The next minute passed in a blur, where my fingers were flying over each of the leads and his face was falling as each of them came out, were wrapped up and stacked, until I was sitting atop the beast, and he was standing, eyes wide, looking at me.

"No fucking way." He looked me up and down, then walked around me, trying, I supposed, to figure out where I was hiding the pocket sized techie. Little did he know I had been a techie for more than six years, and my inner geek was currently pogoing up and down like a maniac. "Seriously? Seriously?"

"Seriously. Do you want to do this?" There was a long stretch of silence again, and I felt the butterflies slowly returning to the hollow in my stomach. Horrific - there were no other words to describe it.

"You just stay there. Don't move." He stepped back and turned around to the other amp that needed seeing to - Jackson's one, from where he'd gone-a-wandering with Char. Lucky lady. The silence between us was deafening as his face hardened just that little bit more, and my heart started to hurt... Maybe, if I hadn't been so rude to him earlier... he would have been a little less cold tonight. Biting the inside of my cheek to stop the irrational tears from welling up, I slid off the amp and bowed my head, ready to walk away.

He stopped me before I got three paces.

"You're gonna walk away?" He didn't even turn around to look at me. "Really, you're that insecure?"

"Sorry?"

"You heard me." This time, he glanced over my shoulder to make sure I'd stopped walking away, "Don't be stupid."

"I'm not being stupid." I couldn't help but argue.

"Yes, you are. You're the crazy chick who's turning this down," He gestured at his general being, "Because she thinks I think she's a bitch."

"Well, do you?"

"Yes, but I like it." He turned to me and smirked again, running a hand through his hair and snagging it on his bandana, "You're not a bitch, Bonnie. You're feisty. And that makes for some awesome morning sessions." Sessions? Plural. He definitely pluralised. That means I get more than a quick fuck, right? I mean... you don't pluralise pluralisable words like that for a laugh, do you?

"You think you'll make it to the morning?"

"Well, let's just say that I was made for the mornings. And the afternoons... and the evenings..." He shrugged and picked up another coil of wire, stacking it with the others. Quickly, I scanned the room to see if Charlie had returned, and, spotting her, I tipped her a wink to let her know I wasn't about to cause any lasting damage to the pretty boy in front of me.

In actual fact, the only thing I could think of that was going to get damaged... well, that would be my unmentionable area...

"Hey, crazy." Ben's voice broke me out of my insane thoughts, and all of a sudden, he was in front of me, standing straight and watching me with a little hesitation in his eyes, "You gonna live up to your name?"

"What?" His hand reached for mine, his thumb twisting against mine very slightly. For what I'd imagined, his hands were stupidly soft in reality. "Oh." He stepped closer again, and suddenly, I was sandwiched between this foolish, gorgeous, idiotic, beautiful man, and an amp. Of their own volition, my hips lifted to press against his, and he smirked down at me, tugging on my hand lightly as he pulled me forward and away.

"C'mon. We're going somewhere."

"Where?" He'd officially muted me, that was, until he tugged me towards a cupboard, "I have standards, asshole." There was a pause, "No fucking in a broom cupboard on the first date."

"Only on the first date?"

"You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" And suddenly I was pressed against a wall, hands pinned against the plaster and his fingers entwining with mine as his face moved to only centimetres from mine.

"Who said this was a date?"

"Who said it wasn't?"

Very slowly, very cautiously, he leaned forward, his hair falling into my eyes and just across his face as he lightly brushed his lips against mine. A shiver ran down the left side of me and I stretched forward in a sad attempt to deepen what was supposed to be a sweet kiss.

"You want more?" He growled, grinning once again, "Damn, Bonnie. You really do like me."

"You thought I hated you?"

"I thought you wanted a fuck." He hissed, lowering his lips to mine again.

"Ha, I'll take whatever comes with you." And at those ridiculously significant words, he dropped one of my hands and pulled away from my lips, tugging me down the corridor again. "Ben!" I couldn't help but shriek his name as I stumbled across some kind of doormat-come-death-trap, and he turned to look at me.

"What?"

"Where are we-" He pulled me into a doorway and fumbled with the handle.

"This is not a broom closet." He hissed, palming the wall to try and locate a light switch as his other hand ran down my side and pulled me close into his lean body, "God, I promise you this is not a broom closet."

"Cupboard." I punctuated the word with a bite to his bottom lip, making him grin and let out a low growl.

"Closet." He argued, giving as good as he got, and biting down on my earlobe.

"Cupboard." His hand slammed against the wall again, finally hitting the light switch and bathing us in the most welcome yellow glow I had ever encountered. I could finally see the smile on his face and see the lust in his eyes.

"Well it's not either of them, whatever the fuck it is."

He was quite right. It looked to be what was an unused dressing room, complete with convenient foldaway bed and mattress, what appeared to be a duvet and even a damned mirror mounted on the wall.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

"It's not a closet... cupboard, whatever," He breathed, fingers running through my hair as he tugged my hips closer to his again. "I really, really want you."

"Yeah, that wasn't obvious, or anything." I managed to pant, returning the favour and grabbing his backside so that I could just feel how close we were. How much he wanted this.

"Hey," He growled, "I might be offended by that," His fingers slid down my arms and turned me so that my back was against the wall.

"But you're not."

"I'm not." He agreed quietly, holding me in place with one hand, and stepping between my legs as he kissed me again. His other hand roamed across my arm, along my shoulder, into my hair and finally up my shirt, pulling it up as far as he possibly could. "Although this top? Has to go."

"What?" I let out a low groan at the look in his eyes and pulled back, quickly discarding the offending piece of material. "You'd best be losing something of yours too, Benny." He laughed quietly, shaking his head, "I'm serious."

"How about this?" He fingered the bandana wrapped loosely round his neck. I just stared at him as he untied it and hooked it over my head, using it to pull me closer to him again.

"Good enough start," I managed, toeing at the boots I was wearing just so I could run my foot up his calf. The sound that erupted from his chest as my socks made contact with his skin was incredible, rumbling from his chest and vibrating across my skin, sending goosebumps exploding across me. Before I could even compute what I was doing, my mind had decided that he should be sitting down, and I would be far sexier straddling him, so all of a sudden, I was pushing him backwards, still liplocked, my hands in his hair and my head hoping that I had actually seen a chair where I thought I had.

If not, well, fuck it, we were doing it on the floor, then moving to the bed.

Thankfully, there was an empty chair resting in the corner, and we made it in one piece.

"I love your socks," Was all I got out of him as I stepped into him and brought my knees to either side of his hips, one hand resting in his hair, the other desperately wanting to make its way between his legs. I couldn't believe the movement he made when I brought my hips forward to grind against his, so much like a jack in the box, that it almost made me laugh - if not for the uber groan that exploded from his lips at the same time.

"Fuck, Bonnie," And that was the best noise I'd heard all night. He reached for his bandana again, pulling me forward, down and against his lips, sucking on my bottom lip and slowly draining me of any kind of conscious thought. Then my hands knocked against the buttons of his shirt and I was beset with the insane determination that he would be naked before I was.

It took the better part of a frantic three and a half minutes, but before too long, I was faced with a torso words could not describe. Ben wasn't ripped, but he wasn't undefined. He was, without doubt, the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Right down to the tattoo on his hip. Quickly, my hand was all over it, running my fingers across it and letting my fingertips drag against the waistband of his boxers, never dipping too low, but feeling just the skin under the elastic. With every pass, his hips jerked slightly, and, watching him with his eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, and groaning, I would never have asked for another thing.

Except maybe for him to be inside of me.

"Fucking hell, Bonnie," He hissed, "Do you want me to come before you?" I let out a moan at the mention of him coming undone at my hand, "Or..." His hands followed the same path against my hips, and I let out a multitude of moans as he ran his fingers under the waistband of my skirt. "Take it off." He hissed.

"Yeah, because I'm capable of that right now." I hissed, feeling his hand slide down between my legs instead, brushing against the skin between my legs and making me groan into his mouth as he ventured to brush his fingers against my no-doubt soaked knickers.

"Always so sarcastic." He hissed, "and so fucking wet." There was a pause where he lightly pushed the fabric covering me against my clit, finding and creating such perfection I would never have believed. "Damnit..." He groaned again, "How did I only just meet you."

"Are you gonna keep this up, or are we gonna get on here?" Just to prove a point, he very quickly lifted the hand that had been between my legs, and brought it to his lips.

"You even taste fucking good."

"Yeah?" I let out a low growl as he repeated the movement, this time dipping his fingertip underneath the fabric and into the wetness beyond.

"Fucking yeah." He hissed, taking the same two fingers and using them to pop the button on his jeans. "Fucking..." I loved that. The way he said 'fuck' and the way he called me crazy were two infuriating, but damned fuckawesome things. Before I could even breathe, he had stood up from the chair of foreplay and lifted me across to the makeshift 'bed'. "You like it when I touch you, don't you?"

"Stupid question." I muttered, reaching for his hand again, and wondering when we'd gone from bickering, to fairytale, to impassioned fucking. "Why am I still wearing a bra?"

"Because you enjoy the feeling of silk on skin," He growled, "I think you should permanently stop wearing them."

"Sorry?"

"You should be," He growled again, pulling at the cups to try and get them down, then, when he failed at that, reaching around me one-handed to undo the bastard thing. "Good colour on you, though."

"Thanks." I gasped aloud as his mouth moved from mine, down the column of my neck first to leave a mark on my collarbone, then to wrap his lips around my nipple. "Holy fuck." It wasn't even the general sensation of it. It was his tongue - the way it was so obviously tentative but in control. Just like him.

"I'm gonna..." He sighed and pulled away, tugging his boxers and trousers off, "Is this better?"

"Much." I managed to moan as his hands delved straight back in, one curling into my hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck to his waiting lips, and the other sliding between my legs, finding purchase and pressing two fingers into me, and woahmygod, it was indescribeable. "Bloody..." I let out a gasp, "You'd better have a condom," He nodded against my neck and I groaned at the feeling as he added another finger and I felt myself stretched into what could only be described as a paperthin manner.

He needed to be in me. Soon.

"Fucksake," he ground out as I dropped my hand to palm his length, hoping that he was just as ready as I was, "What're you doing to me?" It was simple, really, a bit of thumb action, a bit of a wrist twist, not too tight, not too loose... "Jesus christ, woman," He hissed again, "Back pocket of my jeans, it's fresh, please... just... I need..."

"You need to be in me." I moaned again as his hand sped up slightly, "Seriously."

His fingers slipped out of me quickly, and he reached for the foil packet faster than I had ever seen anyone do before. Fuck being able to dismantle an amp-setup, I wanted to be able to put his condom on in less than six seconds. Though he seemed to like the little wrist-manoeuvre I did as I pulled away.

"You want this now?" He hissed, rubbing me lightly again, "Because I'm pretty happy to give it to you, you know." I hitched my leg up around his hip, smirked and felt his smile against my neck.

"In. Now."

And I think my heart stopped. Everything went blurred at the sensation of god-knows-what as he slipped into me. He wasn't harsh, or too quick, too painful, just perfectly gentle as he eased into me, waiting for a couple more seconds to move, to let me feel him and let me adjust myself on his body.

Shit. That felt fucking good.

Tentatively, we moved at the same time, my hips rising ever so slightly faster than his were pressing into me, my fingers alternating between brushing over his tattoo and pulling him closer, my other hand twisted into his hair.

"Seriously?" He hissed, "You're so..." He hesitated, "Fucking tight." A pause.

"I just..." I shrugged, "I'm small?" He grinned, sliding a hand up and pressing his thumb over one of my nipples.

"You're fucking perfectly sized," He hissed, squeezing my breast and lowering his mouth to mine again, "And..." He sighed, "You need to come."

I wouldn't deny that it was building, the orgasm of the century, so to speak, but I was still a few inches off the precipice, as it were. I nodded yes, but he most definitely knew, because faster than I could think, his fingers were massaging between my legs in tight little circles designed to bring me some kind of perfect pleasure. It was working. Couple that with the way he had repositioned my legs, locked straight around his middle, I was starting to wonder how far away I was from Bengasm.

I wasn't disappointed, when, less than a minute later, my head pressed back into the strange mattress, my eyes screwed tight shut and my body clamped down on his. Suddenly I was gasping for air and he was muttering my name in the middle of a lot of unnecessary expletives.

Both of us knowing that we were pretty fucked, pretty well fucked, and probably being pretty missed at that moment, Ben rolled over to the side of me, pulled me close and held me for a minute or longer, I really didn't have the grasp on time and space that I should have.

"This changes everything." He muttered, his hand still in my hair, and his other hand toying with the bandana around my neck.

"I don't see why it does," I whispered, twisting to look at him, and the somewhat distraught look on his face, "You still owe me dinner."

"Ha, thank you," He laughed weakly, the colour quickly returning to his face, "What better way to get to know each other?"