So…I should be studying for midterms right now. But instead, I'm writing this fic and desperately hoping for that one last snow day that could make them…"optional"…or, in other words, "skipable."
Disclaimer: I love 'em, but I don't own 'em. Phooey.
XXXIt was late, and he knew there were important things he would have to do in the morning. Early in the morning…like eight o'clock early. But that didn't stop Riley from staring at the screen of his laptop at three in the morning. Sleep: it wasn't exactly an option. There were too many things running through his mind, too many questions that couldn't be voiced to those around him. So…what did Riley do when forced into a pickle? What he always did—turn to the internet.
The box was still empty as it had been an hour ago with the constantly blinking cursor flashing away impatiently. Riley really couldn't see the point of that thing. Must it remind you every second where you last stopped typing? Did it really think that people were that stupid? Or maybe that was its way of saying, "Come on already, Einstein, type something!" Either way, Riley wished it would just cease its motion long enough for him to concentrate.
After a few minutes, though, his fingers slowly moved across the keyboard. Words appeared, and half an hour later he felt much better…though still anxious. Reading it through, he deemed it vague enough to be sent and did so.
Sure, it was a long shot, but it was his only shot. Desperate times, he realized, called for desperate measures. And he didn't think he could get much more desperate than this.
XXX
Bright and early at seven-thirty the next morning, Riley stumbled groggily out of his room and literally fell into a chair at the breakfast table.
"Good morning to you too," Ben mused over the newspaper.
"Mhm…"
"Do you want some coffee?" The older man's eyes poked over the top of the paper.
"Do you really think that's a good idea? You know me and caffeine." Riley brought up his head long enough to give Ben an unbelieving look and then promptly flopped it back down. "Unless you want to strap me down to a chair with duct tape again, I'd advise you to reconsider."
"Good point." And back to the paper he went. What was so interesting about the Lifestyle section Riley would never understand; yet there Ben was, casually reading it and every so often taking another bite of an orange slice from the plate next to him.
Morning people…Riley thought with a bit of sarcasm.
"Wow…"
"What? Did you find some new way to tile the bathroom so it'd increase the positive karma?"
"No, no…it was just the advice column…people have weird, unfortunate problems."
Advice column? Since when did Ben read the advice column? Perking his head up, Riley craned around the side of the paper and tried to appear like he didn't care too much. "So, uh…what was so "wow" about it?"
Much to his chagrin, Ben cocked one eyebrow as if to say, "Oh? So you're awake now?" but didn't say anything more about it. "Well…let me read it too you.
"Dear Gabby,
"I'm a male in my late-twenties with a big problem. I'm in love with my best friend…who's a guy. It didn't start out that way, because I'm not usually into guys, but it just sort of…evolved since we worked together all the time. The problem is, he's got a girlfriend, who's also a friend of mine. I don't know what to do or who to talk to: they're pretty much the only people who I hang out with so I can't exactly talk to them about it. It's tearing me up.
"Desperate in DC."
Riley could only stare at the too-familiar words, completely confounded how they got to the paper in the last four hours. However, the mystery was soon overshadowed: Ben was cocking his eyebrow again. "That is…a pretty unfortunate problem. You got any Reese's Puffs? I'm kind of hungry."
"No," Ben said. "Abigail tossed that cereal out days ago. It's pure sugar: you of all people don't need that. But don't you want to hear what Gabby told this person to do?"
"Wh-why?" Riley quickly stood and headed toward the pantry in search of some distracting breakfast nourishment. The only thing he found was an outdated box of Patrick Gates' Shredded Wheat. What was it about older people and bland cereal?
"Well, normally the advice this column gives is more common sense than anything, but this was actually, y'know…useful, given that this was a pretty confusing predicament."
OK, calm, act calm, this is not a big deal…"Really now?" His voice seemed to magnify immensely in the small cabinet he still was searching through…anything to not look at Ben with his guaranteed crimson face.
"Yeah. She basically told the guy to confront his friend and get it over with, just so they wouldn't be hiding anything from each other."
"Is that right?" One day, he decided, he would organize this pit of doom of a pantry. Things went in and never came out; in the back, way behind a box of muffin mix, was the special container of Hungarian paprika Ben had needed for his curry a year ago. Not much use now…except for a subject changer. "Hey, I found that paprika you were looking for!"
"Riley…" But no, Ben was never to be distracted. Curse him and his…admirable… unfailing determination. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
"Psh…of course." Realizing he couldn't hide in the pantry forever, Riley finally shuffled back to his seat. His heart was pounding so hard his eardrums hurt and cheeks burned. So much for remaining calm. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
It was a look that he'd seen many times before, only because of the combination of expressions it held. There was the usual "super-determined" one that Ben had copyrighted in the patent office, but in the mix was a look that Riley had seen only once before: when Ian had revealed that he had taken Patrick hostage. It was disbelief, pity, and confusion all rolled into one. "Riley…why'd you write this?"
All the younger man could do was stare; the muscles in his neck and eyes seemed to cut off. "Wh-what? You think…I…wrote that?"
"It's definitely your writing style. I've noticed in your e-mails that you use a lot of ellipses and not many big or complicated words. And you fit the description the person gave, and I fit the description of the best friend."
Nothing ever got past Ben: Riley could try and lie his way out, and three hours worth of sarcastic shrug-offs later he'd be halfway clear. But they didn't have three hours, and Ben would still be suspicious after all that anyways. "You're good." Like magic, the stiff muscles began to work again, immediately forcing his head and gaze as far from Ben as possible, who didn't say anything.
"Hey boys! You want me to make you some—"
"Abigail?" Ben interrupted. "Could you…give us a few minutes?"
She hadn't even been halfway in the door frame. "Um…sure…" Her eyes, showing obvious confusion, swept over both of them before she turned around and left, her footsteps echoing loudly on the old wood of the stairway.
"So you really didn't feel comfortable telling me?"
"Would you?" Now he really wished he had a bowl of Reese's Puffs. At least he could plausibly stare at the cereal instead of some weird picture in the wood grain of the table.
"Well…no," Ben admitted after a few moments. "But you truly felt the need to write to an advice column?"
"Yes!" Riley exclaimed, all his pent-up frustration and embarrassment practically exploding. "Talking to either of you would ruin our friendship, but how would you like to live everyday watching someone else happily be with…with…" Little by little, the energy faded and he couldn't complete his sentence. "With…"
"…the one you love." Ben's eyes bored a hole into the side of Riley's head with a blank look, void even of his usual resolve. "Riley, look at me."
"Nope. Not going there." There was a picture of some nice looking tangerines on the opposite wall: it was easier to talk to then Ben at the moment.
"Riley."
"Y'know what?" Suddenly, Riley hopped out of his chair, coat in hand, and headed towards the front door. "My existence here is going to make things too awkward. I'm leaving. Don't worry about my stuff; I'll get it in the middle of the night and you won't even know I'm gone." He would have been out the door in an instant, but of course, he was held up searching for his keys in that accursed key-bowl. There were so many keys in that thing that it nullified its purpose.
"Yes we will," Ben said, a few feet behind him. "We will know!"
"Ben, I just can't stay here anymore."
"And what exactly are you going to do?" The incredulity in his voice stopped Riley's fingers cold and forced him to turn round.
"I'll get over it."
"No you won't."
"I know…" Riley sighed, keys jangling and hand already on the door knob. "I just hoped you would believe it so you'd feel better." With a twitch of the head, he looked over his shoulder with his usually cheerful blue eyes. Only this time, regret had clearly taken over. "It was nice knowing you. I'll forget to write."
And just like that—a slam of the door and the revving of the engine—he was gone, leaving Ben staring in the foyer like an idiot.
"Ben…?" Abigail silently appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Where'd Riley go?"
He seemed to revolve on the spot. "I…don't know."
"Did he finally admit he's in love with you?"
Despite all the things that had occurred, Ben was still thrown extremely off guard. "Wait…you knew?"
"I had my suspicions." She gazed at the key-bowl briefly. "He left, didn't he?" And without even waiting for a response, she flipped open her cell phone and marched right back up the stairs. "Of all the stupid things…"
Still dumbfounded, Ben just stood there, listening to Abigail's conversation as well as for the unmistakable hum of the Ferrari engine.
"Riley, hey…" Abigail's voice drifted down to the ground floor. "OK--stop, stop. Would you listen for just a—I know. Could you—" He must be on one of those nonstop explaining rants if Abigail can't even get a word in edgewise. "RILEY! I've heard enough, OK? It's fine, I'm fine, Ben's fine, everything's fine! I don't care, all right? Now you turn around and get your ass over here in the next three minutes!"
Abigail's use of swear words: yet another thing to chalk up on the list of the morning's strange happenings.
"Why don't you—yes, if you want to. No, it's fine. Right. See you in a few minutes."
As she bounded back down the stairs, Ben could still only stare. "So…?"
"There's a reason I don't swear that much. It makes them more emphatic and, um…persuasive." With a tiny grin, she pecked him on the cheek. "Oh, here he comes now."
The loud red vehicle was truly hard to miss, especially since the engine was roaring well past its normal volume level. Soon enough, the door opened, revealing a sheepish and disheveled Riley. "Hi…" he mumbled.
"Go on," Abigail said. "I said you could." What that meant Ben had no idea.
But he soon found out.
The space between the doorway and where Ben stood was closed in an instant as Riley grabbed the front of his shirt and brought his mouth down to his. He kissed him as hungrily as a dehydrated and starving man who couldn't let go of him even if he tried. Years of want were compressed into three seconds, three seconds that felt like years to the famished younger man.
"Sorry," he muttered upon breaking away, not even daring to make eye contact. "I'm going to go get some Shredded Wheat." After a momentary grateful look at Abigail, Riley went quickly to the kitchen.
"Whoa," Ben sighed as he ran his hands through his hair. "You actually…agreed to this?"
"Are you upset?"
"No, no…but you were…OK with that?"
"Ben," she smiled. "I suggested it. An unhappy or absent Riley pretty much signals a worldwide disaster."
That, in Ben's mind, was odd. Why would she suggest that Riley kiss me if she's my girlfriend? It could have so many unknown repercussions…
"Hey…" she said, breaking his train of thought and rubbing his shoulder. "If you're happy, I'm happy, all right? The 'how' doesn't matter."
XXX
Heehee. So…I don't know. I love BenRiley, but I have a hard time sometimes convincing myself that Ben could in fact fall for the techie. I know it's really possible the other way around, but…yeah. One of my quirks.
Please review.