"How about coming over for dinner tonight?"
"Can I bring a date?"
"As long as she's pretty."
Riley couldn't decide who looked more surprised – Ben upon seeing his date, or his date upon seeing the famous Ben Gates.
"Rile! My goodness, you didn't say this is the friend we'd be having dinner with!"
Rile. Riley thought that was a funny nickname. It reminded him of 'riled up'. He shut the front door behind him, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. What other friend would they have dinner with? Did he have any other best friend who he talked about every day, who was in every newspaper, who popped up in History Channel specials?
"Uh…" Ben began eloquently, but quickly recovered, stepping forward. "Yes, Ben Gates, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said politely, holding out his hand.
Louis shook his hand enthusiastically, smiling. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Gates. I've heard all about you from Riley. My name is Louis."
To Ben's credit, he looked calm and collected, though he still sounded winded. "…Your accent…Montréal?"
"The French Quarter of New Orleans," Louis corrected, laughing. "Though my parents were from France."
"Ah," Ben said, smiling. "So I imagine it's Louis like the King of France?"
"Like the Armstrong, actually. New Orleans, oui?"
Riley was both pleased and annoyed by Ben's reaction. He'd expected some kind of exclamation when he walked through the front door with a man. No – Ben, the unremarkable bluffer – was wearing an excellent poker face, even if he did glance at Riley from time to time, looking confused. Riley's sexuality had always been debatable among his friends – something Riley wasn't aware of until one night, on the ride back from interviews for a documentary. Abigail (who had been whispering with Ben all night) had suddenly turned to him and told him his fingernails looked like they needed to be trimmed. Riley's hands had stayed firmly – knowingly - in his lap, but before he could make fun of her for referencing the movie, she had nailed him for getting the reference.
It wasn't something they ever talked about after that. Riley made sure they couldn't with his string of gorgeous blondes, brunettes, and redheads. Though that wasn't exactly getting the point across, was it? Riley got tired of it, eventually, and formulated his admittedly surprising plan. When someone stops noticing you, you make sure you get noticed – and noticed he certainly was, all the way to the dinner table. Ben's stares were becoming more frequent, but Riley still refused to meet his gaze. He was playing it cool, yes, but he couldn't play it that cool.
Abigail's reaction was even more disappointing than Ben's. She entered the room carrying a casserole dish, paused briefly, and then broke into a smile so wide that Riley thought her face might break. Riley pulled out a chair for Louis, but Louis was too busy being starstruck again.
"You must be Dr. Abigail Chase," he said, waiting for Abigail to put the dish down before he shook her hand. "I've read all about you in Riley's book."
Riley's book. That's where it all started. Well, technically, it started on the blue line on the Metro. Louis sat next him, legs crossed, The Templar Treasure perched on his knee. Riley was looking out the window, earphones tucked into his ears. He turned the volume down, though, because as much as he didn't want to be recognized…if he was recognized, he wanted to hear it. In the end, he was – Louis followed him off at his stop and finally caught up with him on the street, shyly asking for his autograph. When they discovered that neither had a pen to sign with, Riley summoned up courage he wasn't sure he had and offered to take Louis out to coffee for something more lasting than an autograph: a memory. They chatted about his book and the Templar treasure and seven dates later, they were somewhat of a couple.
"I hope it was nice things you read," Abigail said, smiling as she sat down. Louis followed suit, and Riley pushed in his chair before sitting as well. "You must be the date Riley mentioned," she continued smoothly.
"I am," Louis said, setting his napkin in his lap. "Louis," he added, blushing.
It was hard not to like Louis. He was cute, quiet, and romantic. He liked reading and art. He was cultured. He was lovable. Riley's favorite thing about Louis, though, was that he was always around and always willing to listen to Riley (unlike some Ben friends that Ben would go unBennamed). From what Riley knew of him, there was hardly anything wrong with him – at least, nothing big enough to complain about. Just the fact that he wasn't really Riley's type.
The need for a friend had flared up when Ben and Abigail moved in together. Riley found suddenly that he was spending less and less time with Ben and more time at his apartment, hunched in front of his computer. Online friends were alright, but they didn't make Riley's apartment any less lonely; but Ben had Abigail, and Riley needed someone.
At least with this surprise, he had Ben's attention again. In his gut, he often felt twinges of guilt for using Louis like this – but no, he wasn't using him, was he? He did like Louis…but he liked Ben more.
Once Ben had recovered, he was more than happy to talk to Louis about Cibola through bites of dinner. If the meal was absent of any wisecracks – or really, any talking at all from Riley, he didn't notice.
"I'll clean these up," Riley offered at the end of the meal, collecting the plates from the table and bringing them into the kitchen. There was still no worthwhile reaction from Ben. He had expected confusion, but no jealousy? No anger? No sadness? He hadn't expected acceptance. He didn't want acceptance.
As he began to load the dishwasher, soft footfalls told him he was not alone. Louis put the glasses into the top of the dishwasher when Riley finished and closed the door, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.
"Think he's jealous yet?" Louis asked, a quiet smile on his lips. It was Riley's turn to be surprised.
"Hmm?" Riley inquired, trying to feign innocence. Damn.
Louis chuckled. "Don't think I missed the look on his face when we walked in, Rile. I may not be a treasure hunter, but I can put together the clues. I've seen you on the news before with girls on your arm. Don't you think it would be in the papers if you came out? And don't forget, I've read your book. The way you describe Ben – even the way you talk about him all the time – I expected to meet some kind of Greek god when I came here tonight."
That was the other thing about Louis that Riley liked. He was perceptive. He wasn't sure if he liked it right now, though.
"I'm not mad at you," Louis continued calmly. "We all know what unrequited love feels like. And I do like you…and I know you like me, even if it isn't quite in the way I want. But we are friends, yes? Good friends."
Riley took this in for a minute, staring at the floor. "So…" he began slowly, "what now?"
"What now?" Louis repeated thoughtfully, tilting his head. "I think I'll go wait in the car…why don't you go talk to Ben?"
With a kiss on the cheek (and the promise he would be careful in the Ferrari), Louis left the kitchen. Riley followed shortly after, expecting to see Louis saying his goodbyes, only to find that Ben and Abigail hadn't even noticed he'd left.
"So," Abigail was saying icily, "I guess I'm invisible, then?"
Riley hovered in the doorway as Ben stood from the table, trying to get Abigail to stay as she made her way upstairs.
"Abigail…"
"No, Ben, I'm going to bed."
A door somewhere upstairs slammed and Ben pressed a hand to his forehead, making his way back to the table and slumping into his chair. Riley quietly stepped out from the doorway after a moment, watching him. "Hey."
Ben's head snapped up. He sighed. "Hey, Riley. I'm sorry you had to hear that."
"No, it's okay," Riley said, sitting across from Ben. "…I think Louis just broke up with me."
Riley was surprised how truly upset Ben looked. "Really? He did? I'm sorry, Ri, I could tell you liked him."
Ben could be so thick sometimes. "I think we're better off as just friends anyway. And…sorry I didn't warn you in advance…you know?"
Ben shook his head, sitting up straighter and lacing his fingers together. "No need to apologize. It was just a surprise. Not a bad surprise," he amended quickly, looking up at Riley, "just…a surprise." He sighed again, massaging his temples. "Looks like this night didn't go too well for either of us." He left a pause for Riley to respond – say something funny, maybe, some self-deprecating remark – but he didn't. "You want to stay for a drink?"
Riley shook his head. "No, uh, Louis is waiting in the car, I need to…bring him home."
Ben nodded stiffly. "Yeah, I should probably…go talk to Abigail."
"Yeah." They both stood. Riley scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, I'll call you? I'm working on a new book, maybe you could read some of it, tell me what you think."
"Sure, Riley," Ben said distractedly, and Riley wanted to scream.
"Night," he said quickly, letting his Converse carry him out to the Ferrari as hastily as possible. Louis was waiting for him, head resting against his seatbelt, eyes closed. When he heard the crunch of rubber on pebbles, he opened his eyes. His hopeful smile died when he saw Riley's face.
"He'll come around, Rile," he said softly, once Riley had hopped into the driver's seat and started the car. Riley nodded dumbly, listening to the engine purr. "What do you say we go back to your place and watch Star Wars?" He smiled at Riley's bemused expression. "We are still friends, yes?"
Riley nodded after a moment, giving Louis a lopsided smile. "Yeah, we are."
Even so, as they left the driveway, Riley couldn't help but reach over and rest his hand on Louis' knee. Until Ben came around, he supposed, Louis it was.
