“I don’t want to owe you—”
“Ballard, it’s a fucking panini. You can pay for coffee after or something, if you like.” They look at each other, and Ben smiles.
“If I’d known you were paying, I would’ve ordered something much more expensive.”
They make idle small-talk until the food arrives. Xander talks about how amazing his cast-members are, and Ben tells him every last detail about the superhero movie, even though he’s signed an NDA.
When there’s a lull, Xander clears his throat and says: “So, you seeing anyone?”
“Wow, you are a great actor. That was totally casual.”
Xander drops his head a little, but smiles. “You don’t have to tell me. I just wondered.” He puts down his panini and wipes his hands, his face somber. “Ben, I wanted to say this again. I owe you so many apologies, but the biggest one was all that bullshit I laid on you that night after Blood Bond. It was totally out of line. You were right, I was just being cruel to you, because of my own insecurities. I hope that maybe one day you can forgive me for that, but I certainly understand if you can’t.” He leans forward, his elbows on the table. “And I will never forgive myself for not telling you how brilliant your play was. It was great, really great, and I should have told you that, instead of projecting my own problems on to you. I have such admiration for you, for your work, and I want you to know that.”
Ben blinks. “Where’s all this coming from?”
“Therapy. And getting my head out of my fucking ass.”
“You…admire me?” Ben isn’t sure he heard right.
Xander fiddles with his plate, looking a little embarrassed. “Sometimes I think you could do anything you wanted, anything at all. You’re fearless, and you have so much talent in so many different areas. I wish I could be fearless, but you were right—I’m a coward. And what you said that night, it wasn’t entirely wrong. I think I was jealous of you, getting to do theater before me. There you were, writing and directing your own play, and I guess…it was kind of intimidating.”
“So you—you actually do think I’m talented? Not just trading on your fame?”
Xander stares at him, concerned. “If I’ve ever given you reason to feel like I don’t think you’re capable or talented or amazing, I’m sorrier than I can say. I’ve always found your work exciting and I love by the way you’re so committed and dedicated to it. You’re an excellent writer and an inspired director.”
Ben clears his throat, blinks a few times. “Thanks.” He can’t speak for a moment, and Xander, thankfully, looks out the window rather than at Ben. “For what it’s worth, Xander, I don’t think you’re a coward. I know you struggle with a lot of things, but you could just—you could just forget about them and self-combust or something, but you don’t. I think that’s brave.”
Xander shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.”
“No, really—”
“Thanks. But—can we talk about something else, maybe? I feel like I’m monopolizing the conversation with my issues.” He makes air quotes, and Ben starts laughing. Xander smiles nervously. “You’re really going to make me ask again? If you’re seeing someone in LA?”
“I haven’t been seeing anyone. I told you I wouldn’t.”
“But your three months is up by now. Well over, in fact.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“No.” An ocean of words in just one syllable.
They look at each other.
“I miss the coffee from that place near your apartment,” Ben says. “It was good.”
“You wanna go get some?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The coffee place is closed, but Xander says he has some of their beans up in his apartment. “Won’t be the same, but it’s something. It’s that one barista, though, you know, the girl with the pink hair?”
“I know, right? She’s like a magical coffee genius. No idea what she does but her coffee is like…” He waves his hand around for a simile.
“Scalding liquid sex,” Xander sighs. And Ben laughs. “Remember that one time you couldn’t wait for it to cool down?”
“Yeah. I got burned.” His smile falters, and Xander looks away. “Let’s go back to your place. I’ll come up.”
“Katy?”
“She’s fine.”
“It surprised me that you’re staying at Hotel Noir again,” Xander says as they start walking slowly. “I thought it might have some bad memories for you. Or did Ramona set you up there?”
Ben kicks at a crack in the pavement. “No, I booked it myself.”
Xander lets it go.
Ben thought that he might feel uncomfortable in Xander’s apartment, but he doesn’t. It’s familiar. Nothing has changed. The photograph collections on each flat surface still include Ben. He raises his eyebrows at that. After they broke up, Ben put away all reminders of Xander.
In the kitchen, he looks at the floor and remembers the time he shot a load all over it. Xander catches his flushed smirk and shakes his head, amused.
“Woof,” Ben says, and Xander starts, spills coffee beans everywhere. Ben laughs and helps him clean up.
“That was an interesting afternoon,” Xander says after the coffee is ready. “Fun.”
They sit at the small kitchen table. “It was fun,” Ben agrees.
“We don’t have to talk about—”
“I don’t know, Xander. Maybe we do.”
Xander lets out a long breath. “You think we’re ready to talk again?”
“No idea. We can try. Stop if we need to. I mean, we need to get this sorted out at some stage.”
Xander nods. “I feel like I’m living in limbo. I imagine you must feel the same?”
“Similar, yeah. Damn, Xander. This coffee is good.”
“I miss you.”
“I know. I miss you too.”
“I still love you.”
“Yeah. Same.”
Xander pushes away his cup, still half-full. “I’m not ready yet, though. For a relationship. I’m still not complete yet, on my own. I feel so incredibly guilty about everything that happened between us, but Paul says that’s still self-serving, so I’m trying to move past it. And there’s just stuff I’ll have to live with, and try to do better in the future. But I’m not ready.”
The light in the room is suddenly too bright, and Ben blinks a little. “You’re not ready. Well, okay. I can wait.”
“I’m not telling you this with the expectation that you’ll wait until I’m—”
“I know that. And I’m not saying that, not exactly.”
Xander stands up, paces across the kitchen.
“You’re brooding.” Ben sips his coffee, but his heart beats too fast.
“Yeah.” Xander grabs onto the sink and stares into it, like his life is running down the drain. “That’s me. Brooding.”
“I meant what I said,” Ben says calmly. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“I don’t want you to mean it. Please. Tell me you’ll go out and fuck and—and play. Christ. Go do stuff. Experience stuff without me.”
“You think I want to play with anyone else?”
Xander whirls around. “If you don’t, you should. I indoctrinated you in the way I like to do it. But that’s not fair. I want you to go out and…see. Go see what’s out there.”
Ben stares at him. “You really are a fucking moron. You think I’m going to—”
“Yes. Yes, I want you to. Go find out stuff.”
“Oh, okay. You want me to go get attacked—”
“God, no!” Xander is getting louder, and Ben puts his cup back down carefully on the table. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell like that.”
“No, it’s me. I’m being a dick.”
They look at each other.
“So am I,” Xander says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be trying to tell you what to do. Maybe we’re not ready to talk.”
“I think we are. If I can just get over myself for a m
inute.” Ben smiles, but it’s painful. “Xander, I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t want anyone else doing that stuff to me, not right now. With you, it’s magic. It really is. Some kind of weird effect that I can’t understand, but it’s not going to happen with anyone else, not like that, and I know that because I already went out and experimented after we broke up. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind, maybe, but—even so. It showed me that we had something irreplaceable. I’m not saying,” he continues quickly, when Xander opens his mouth, “that I couldn’t ever love someone else or I wouldn’t ever have fun playing with someone else, but it would be different. It wouldn’t be what we had. It might be just as good—”
“Or better.”
Ben rolls his eyes. “But it wouldn’t be the same, and what I want, right now—” He’s only just figuring it out himself. “What I want is what we had. I don’t know if I can have it back, but that’s what I want. And until I stop wanting that, there’s no point in me seeing other people.”
“Until you stop wanting that.”
“Until I stop wanting that, or until I have it back. So I can wait a little longer. Not forever. But a little longer.”
“I don’t deserve you,” Xander says. He looks amazed.
“No, you probably don’t.” Ben grins. “But you’re stuck with me, for now. Unless…do you want to try someone new?” One look at his face and Ben has the answer. “Okay, then. We’ll wait it out a little longer and then see.”
They talk more, about their lives, friends, families. Xander tells a tale about Elijah that has Ben weeping with laughter. Later, after Ben rinses his cup, he can’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Xander from behind as he sits at the table.
Xander puts his hand over Ben’s, and they breathe together for a minute.
“Will it ever work?” Xander says.
“It will all find its way. Just give it time.”
“You sound so confident.”
“I’ve never been more confident of anything in my entire life. And I can see you’ve changed. You’re changing. Still.”
“Maybe I’ll change so much I won’t be the same person. You might not love the new me as much as the old me.” Xander is probably joking, but Ben wants to reassure him anyway.
“Not possible.” He kisses Xander’s temple and lets him go. “Hey, you wanna go make out?”
Xander presses his lips together to suppress a smile. “Um. I do. But I don’t think we should. Besides, I haven’t had sex for so long I’d probably cream in my jeans and that would just be embarrassing for all concerned.”
Ben pouts a little. “How come we shouldn’t?”
“Well, Paul said—”
“Oh, Paul.” Ben waves his hand as though Paul the Therapist is the very last thing they should be worrying about.
“Yes, Paul. Said that I shouldn’t mix things together while I’m doing this work. I got quite the lecture after our epic goodbye screwing. I really don’t want to have to go through that again.”
Ben sighs, smiles. “I was mostly kidding, anyway.”
“I know.”
“Your work is pretty thorough.”
“It has to be.”
“Then let the work continue. Far be it from me to interrupt your journey of the self.” He makes wiggly fingers in the air.
“You’re teasing me,” Xander observes.
“Yes.”
“It’s cute.”
“I’m cute.”
“Cute like a puppy.” Xander grins at Ben’s blush. “I’d love to make out with you, but like I said—”
“I get it. I’ll refrain from jumping you.” Ben smiles, puts his hands in his pockets. “So—I guess I should get going. It’s late. You need sleep, and I need to get an early flight tomorrow. And I’m sure Katy will demand all the details before she lets me go to bed.”
“I’m glad you came here.”
“Me, too.”
Xander walks him to the door, but as Ben turns to say a final goodbye, Xander grabs him and kisses him hard.
“Forgot Paul, did we?” Ben pants as they break apart.
“Forgot my own goddamn name. Sorry.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“I shouldn’t have…Oh, fuck it.” He kisses Ben again, not quite so ferociously, but by the time he lets go, Ben feels a little wobbly on his legs. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too. And I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you.”
Xander looks at his feet. “I want to tell you not to, but—thanks. And I’ll do my best. Not just for you but…well. You’re a big part of it.”
“I know.”
They look at each other, smirking and feeling a little sheepish and not quite knowing how to say goodbye.
Ben remembers something. “Oh, right. Do you want this back? I took it with me in case you did.” He fishes in his pocket and holds up a key. The key Xander gave him to the apartment.
Xander rubs his hand across the back of his neck, his eyes closed. “No. I’d like you to have it. Still. If you want it.”
“Alright, I’ll keep it. At least you’ll know who to come looking for if you get burgled.”
“Yeah.” Xander smiles.
“I’ll see you. Soon,” Ben promises.
“Soon.”
Ben walks backwards from the doorway so he can watch Xander as long as possible. At the stairwell, a thought strikes him. “Hey—did you work out that Jung quote yet?”
“Not yet. But I will.”
On his way down the street outside to where the taxi is waiting, Ben turns back instinctively, and sees Xander, outlined in the window, watching him. Xander raises a hand, and Ben waves back.
The night is freezing, but the sky is clear. Ben stands on a corner for a moment longer, looking up at Ursa Major, and following the line to the North Star. It’s enough, for now, to know that those stars will be there for millennia, connected. It gives him a sense of hope.
It gives him something to hold on to.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ben finds himself living, exactly as Xander said, in a strange state of limbo. He’s not with Xander, but he’s not single. He certainly doesn’t want to be with anyone else, but he misses sex more each day, specifically the sex he used to have with Xander. He spends too much time kicking himself over taking it for granted at the time. When he tries to remember details, sometimes they get tangled up in his mind and it’s frustrating. Subspace hasn’t helped anything, either, making half of his memories fuzzy and vague in the middle.
He’s not unhappy, although his therapist Suzanne is keeping an eagle-eye on his moods, just in case. He sees her once every two weeks usually, and he likes it. He’s getting more control over his anger, and once she find out what he enjoys, Suzanne even gives him writing exercises to complete. Ben scribbles them in the journal he wrote for Xander, because it feels like the right place to put them. Xander might or might not want to read them—he might be wary of too much control again—but Ben wants it to be available to Xander if he ever wants it. Not because Ben is seeking approval, but because he wants to share. He knows Xander likes it when he shares himself. But he doesn’t mention it to Xander, not yet.
They talk a lot—texts, emails, and the occasional phone call, but Ben hasn’t asked when they’ll see each other again, because he’s afraid of the answer.
Then one day, when Ben is hanging out with his friend Matt and playing some one-on-one at the courts, Xander calls him. Ben is panting for air when he answers the call. “Xander?”
“What are you doing? Jogging?”
“Down at the courts. Give me a second.” He gets his breath back and then speaks into the phone again. “How are you?”
Pleasantries are exchanged, weather is discussed; Ben is starting to think it’s nothing but a general social call, and Matt is bored and sinking ball after ball and chalking it up on the scoreboard, making Ben antsy, until Xander says, “I’ll be back in LA for a few days. I was wondering if you wanted to g
o out for lunch.”
“Of course.” His heart soars.
“I mean—like a date.” Xander sounds embarrassed, and Ben grins.
“Oh, like a date? That’s different. Can’t do that.”
“Ballard—”
“Come on, I’m just fucking with you. You want to come to my place?”
“No. I want to take you out somewhere.”
Ben is surprised about that, because there are so many reasons it would be easier for them to meet at Ben’s place, but then again—Xander has never really taken him out on a date. Actual dating never really came into the equation. They went from friends to friends-with-benefits to kinky boyfriends. It piques Ben’s interest.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Where?”
The date, a few days later in a small Greek restaurant a couple of blocks down from Ben’s apartment, is awkward. Xander is nervous and fidgety, and Ben tries to make things easier by keeping the conversation light, but it just makes everything seem more surreal. This guy has cut me, burned me, bruised me, fucked me every which way from Sunday, and we’re talking about the pleasant LA sunshine.
By the end of the meal, Ben has changed his mind about Xander’s intentions. This isn’t really a date; this is Xander breaking up with him. He’s probably never done it before, Ben realizes, except that shitty night after Blood Bond, so maybe he’s trying to let Ben down gently this time. Maybe Paul the Jungian Therapist told Xander how to do it right, how to get closure. They pay the bill—Ben insists on contributing, and Xander doesn’t make a big deal out of it—and then stand outside, staring at everything except each other.
“Are you breaking up with me?” Ben asks eventually. “I mean, we’re not even really together, but if you want to make it official and stuff—”
“No!” Xander looks horrified. “God. No. Is that what was coming across? Because that’s not what should have been coming across.”
Ben laughs a little, from sheer relief. “I don’t know, man, you were just really invested in discussing the weather.”
“I’m sorry,” Xander says immediately. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s cool,” Ben says at the same time. And then he asks, “Want to come back to my place?” He feels a distant thrill of excitement, and he knows Xander feels it too, sparking between them just like it always has.
Break the Rules (Rough Love Book 7) Page 19