TITLE: This is how
AUTHOR: Criss Moody
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING (if any): Ben/Michael and Brian/Justin
VERSION : US
SPOILERS : Spoilers for season 2 eps through 209.
SUMMARY: Ben's not so sure that Michael's a good bet.
WEBSITE: http://www.ficbitch.com/hpf
DISCLAIMER: Lots of other people own the pretty gay boys.
Sad Criss.
FEEDBACK: Yeah, that would be luverly.
ARCHIVE: List archives, yes. Others, please ask first.
Notes: Unbetaed. Zahra said it was good. Thus, it is her
fault.
He'd love to believe in Michael. Let problems fade into
kisses and forget that this isn't happy ever after. This
isn't going to be forever. Forever's a fucking joke, a
construct meant to comfort idiots who still think that God
loves them and that America is a great country.
Ben wasn't always so cynical. He never was in speech. But
inside, in where no one but his inner five year old was
still unhappy about not getting a ice cream cone when his
cousin did, well, inside Ben cursed God. He cursed Jamie,
who honestly hadn't known he was positive. He cursed the
doctor for telling him that he'd have a good life, with
lots of drugs and safe sex. And he cursed himself for
mouthing off about living in the now to a ridiculously
impressionable adult man who listened to his friends more
than he listens to himself.
He took a drink of his beer and looked around for Michael.
His boyfriend, if he could call him that, was supposed to
be here by now. Give him another 10 minutes, if he didn't
show, Ben wasn't above taking to the dance floor alone. He
and Michael haven't even talked about their favorite colors
let alone about exclusivity. So "boyfriend" was probably an
inappropriate term.
"Hey, where's the boyfriend?"
Two of Michael's friends, the kid and the smarmy looking
one, idled up next to Ben with beers of their own.
"Who says he's my boyfriend?" Ben watched the kid's
eyebrows raise. The blonde head turned toward his companion
as if, Brian maybe?, was omniscient.
"Not me. Of course, if you're just fucking him, you might
wanna tell him that. Don't want poor Mikey to get his heart
all broken. Again."
The younger boy turned back to Ben, rolled his eyes at what
Brian had said, and twisted away from him. Soon he was lost
in the swell of bodies gyrating to the music.
"Raiding the cradle?"
Brian flashed Ben a tight grin. Not the sly spread of teeth
Ben had seen before, but something that spoke of pain.
Good. He wasn't so sure he appreciated Brian's comments.
"Better than fucking the emotionally immature."
"Isn't he your best friend or something? Not a nice thing
to say about your best friend." Ben turned toward the bar
and watched Brian's face in the glittering bar mirror.
Alternatively green, blue, and red from flashing lights,
the other man's face was devoid of reaction.
"Maybe. But I won't be the one to help him grow up. And
trust me, it's about time that he grew up."
The song playing ended and the sweaty young blonde bounced
up to Brian, placing hard kiss on his lips before grabbing
his hands to drag him back out. Brian let it happen, but
not before he nodded towards the entrance to the club where
Mikey had just come in with more friends.
"He'll always be Mikey to me. But he's Michael to you,
right?" With the cryptic comment of the evening award
firmly in hand, Brian joined his lover on the dance floor.
Ben grabbed a handful of salty peanuts and watched Michael
approach.
Too soon, Michael slipped into Ben's personal space for a
kiss. Ben looked down at Michael, studying the other man's
eyes. Innocent puppy dog eyes, ooh, please don't kick me.
It wasn't really too late to stop this.
"Hey!"
"Hey."
Michael lost a little bit of his shiny grin when Ben merely
repeated him. The little furrow between his eyes, the
'frustrated/hurt/confused' furrow, appeared.
"What is it? Is something wrong? Did Brian say something
to you?"
Ben considered say, yeah, he did. He thinks you're an
idiot. He also apparently doesn't disapprove of us, a
marked change from the rest of your friends and family
whose opinions vary from disinterested to negative. He
calls you Mikey because he has next to no belief in your
maturity.
"Not much. Just said..." And Ben decided to do something
nicer than probably Michael or Brian deserved. Because
nobody needed to get hurt. Nobody needed to ache over
airing some dirty laundry.
"You might be my Michael but you'd always be his Mikey.
Then he took the blonde off to dance." Ben affected the
best injured lover look he could manage.
Michael took Ben's hands in his and pressed a kiss to the
knuckles.
"I like being *your* Michael. Thank you."
Emphasis on the word 'your' and Ben didn't have a lot of
time to process that before Michael leaned up to softly
press his lips to Ben's. Ben nibbled on Michael's lower
lip until he felt it warm and well under his touch. Sucked
the plump flesh into his mouth and heard Michael sigh
happily.
Say one thing about this guy, he was habit forming. Ben
already liked the way he kissed, the way he pressed himself
into Ben like Ben was the safety blankets to end all safety
blankets, and way he courted a man. Terrible singer.
Ben swayed with Michael next to the bar, exchanging kisses
until he heard the song change to a slower tune. They
drifted to the center of the floor and ended up next to
Brian and the kid who danced cheek to cheek facing the same
direction.
Their eyes drifted open at the same time to see Ben and
Michael in an almost matching position. Michael looked for
a brief moment at Brian before smiling against Ben's chest
and closing his eyes. Brian met Ben's gaze and let his
eyebrows raise a fraction.
Ben supposed that counted as a 'seal of approval' and let
it go.
~the end~
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