He did it, gathered all his courage and invited John over for dinner. Of course he didn't mention the romantic intent behind the invitation and so it was that John knocked on the door in his usual everyday attire: Jeans, sneakers and a half unbuttoned plaid shirt that revealed a white t-shirt underneath.

Ben on the other hand put a lot more effort into his outfit but still hoped it would seem like he didn't. He failed. His grey suit and the Bordeaux coloured silk tie were too far from ordinary for Ben, however casual he tried to make it look by wearing his hair in a more tousled fashion. The first thing John said as Ben opened the door for him was "Oh my, are we going to a fancy restaurant or what?"

"What? No. I…" Ben stammered, making up an excuse. "I just hardly ever get a chance to wear this, I thought I might just as well put it on tonight."

"Okay. I mean, it's a nice suit. I just feel massively underdressed now."

"No, don't worry about it," Ben said and gestured him towards the dinner table. He had spent a huge part of the day arranging and rearranging the table decoration until Alex told him to just leave it the way it is: A single white candle in the middle of a lace table runner, no flowers. "Flowers look like you're trying too hard," Alex had said and now Ben wished she would have stayed long enough to give him fashion advice, too.

"You really put a lot of effort into this, didn't you?" John asked. "I thought we were just having some mac and cheese and watch a movie."

Ben tried to distract from his nervousness by taking care of the food. "Just have a seat," he called from the kitchen. "I'll be with you in a minute. I hope you like vegetable quiche."

"I guess I do."

When Ben came back from the kitchen, his hands protected by bunny-shaped oven mittens and proudly presenting what he had planned to be the starter of a three course menu, John looked at him with a startled face.

"Ben, I might be totally far out with this but I got the weird feeling this is supposed to be a date," John said, trying to keep the eye contact but Ben escaped it. "Is it?"

He made several attempts to answer the question until he could say something with a quivering voice. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you would have said yes if I had had the guts to ask you out on a real date," Ben replied and glanced sheepishly at John.

John held his breath, stared at the empty plate in front of him as if it held an answer to Ben's revelation of romantic interest. "I don't know what to say."

"I'm sorry," Ben muttered. "Don't worry about it. It's okay. Let us just… just eat before the quiche gets cold. Just forget about it, okay?"

"No, Ben. I think we should talk about this. Do you have feelings for me?"

Ben could feel his heart cramp in his chest and his lungs hurt with every breath. Why did he have to get himself into this situation? Why did he allow himself to be vulnerable? When he looked at John now he didn't see the man he was madly in love with but he saw a person who looked back at him with eyes full of pity. Yes, John was sorry for him and he'd never be able to feel the same, Ben was sure of that now.

"No, you got the wrong idea. It's nothing," Ben said fully aware that he was less than convincing. His whole body tensed up as he tried to hold back the tears. "Nothing."

"Do you really want me to stay for dinner?"

Ben bit his lips. He knew that if he opened his mouth to speak he'd start crying so he just shook his head, trying to keep the façade up. It wasn't that he didn't want John to stay, but he just couldn't. What would they even talk about? There was no way they could ever have the same kind of friendship like they did before tonight. And Ben had to be alone to deal with this, had to cry on his own, had to try to eat on his own and realise that he had lost his appetite on his own. He'd blow the candle out on his own, drink the wine on his own and wash the dishes before he went to bed on his own. There'd be no together. Not with John at least.