All That Glitters

by Kate Sherwood

  And Ben the law-abiding, Ben the elementary school teacher, Ben the careful—Ben jumped the barrier.

  It was shocking how quickly the security guards moved in. Also shocking to feel the crush of other spectators following his lead and crashing over the barrier themselves. The chaos, the excitement, the press of bodies, the strong arms locked around his body—well, his neck—and squeezing against his throat—

  And Liam was still moving away from him. Eric Wilton had grabbed him by the arm and was tugging him toward a waiting limo, saving him, rescuing him, so the two of them could go off and live in perfection together.

  But perfection was a trap. Ben knew that now. Calm, peace, serenity—it was lovely, and necessary, but struggle and anticipation and excitement were necessary too. Did Liam know that? Ben thought maybe he did, or at least maybe he had.

  But now? Liam was leaving with another man.

  And Ben’s serenity was gone.

  He wriggled at least partly free, pushed and struggled until he was upright, called Liam’s name once more, saw Liam half turn before Wilton reclaimed his attention and directed him to the open limo door.

  Liam was leaving. Ben had built up his courage, come all the way to the city, risked himself, exposed himself, and Liam wasn’t even noticing his efforts. Liam was leaving with another man, and Ben would be alone. He’d lose Liam again.

  He couldn’t lose Liam again.

  And right there, in the crush of paparazzi and autograph-seekers, celebrities and security, Ben roared. Nothing as coherent as words, just frustration, anger, need—passion. He roared, and heads turned toward him. Liam’s head turned toward him.

  Eric Wilton turned too, but fuck Eric Wilton. This wasn’t about him. Now that Liam was looking at Ben, this wasn’t about anything or anyone that wasn’t the two of them.

  “Ben?” Liam’s voice was carried away by the commotion, but the word was clear anyway. Ben had been seen. Recognized. Acknowledged. And maybe that should have been enough, but damn it, it wasn’t.

  He squirmed free from the grip of a guard who’d clearly been surprised by the volume of Ben’s cry and stumbled forward. “Liam!” he called.

  And Liam was stepping toward him, although he looked more concerned than amorous. “What the hell’s going on?” Liam yelled. He shook his head, grabbed Ben’s wrist, and tugged him forward.

  Before Ben understood what was happening he was being shoved into a limo, soft leather upholstery cushioning his graceless sprawl. He stayed still for a moment, one arm and leg on the seat, the others on the floor, trying to figure out what he’d just done.

  As the vehicle began to move, he struggled gracelessly onto the bench and stared at the two men opposite him. Liam was staring back. Eric Wilton, on the other hand, looked smooth, polished, and slightly amused.

  “Am I the only one thinking ‘threesome’?” the actor asked.

  Ben closed his eyes and tried to find a moment of peace, but there was none to be had. So he opened them, looked at Liam, and said, “I hope you are. But I’ve screwed all this up badly enough, making the decisions myself. I think I have to put myself at Liam’s mercy now.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  IT WAS strange for Liam to have Ben in his apartment, as if past and present had collided into a not quite coherent whole. Strange, but not bad. Not necessarily.

  “Eric Wilton’s a good guy,” Liam said. Maybe it wasn’t kind, but maybe he wasn’t feeling all that kind. He paced restlessly around the living room while Ben stood and stared at him. “And he’s gorgeous and sexy and he’d be good for my career. And I walked away from him tonight. No, wait. I didn’t walk away. I had the fucking nerve to ask him to give me and another guy a ride to my apartment in his damn limousine. So if this is another one of your teases, Ben? If this is another hello-goodbye, push-me-pull-me mind fuck? You should expect me to not be impressed.”

  “It’s not that,” Ben said. He sounded strained, as if he was operating on too much adrenaline and not enough sleep. And he kind of looked that way too.

  “So what is it?” Liam was suddenly almost as tired as Ben looked. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came because—” He stopped and turned away.

  “Yeah. Great. You came because you didn’t want the angst to be over. You don’t want to actually do anything, don’t want to have anything to do with me, but you want to make sure I keep on—”

  Ben moved fast for someone who looked so worn out. Across the room in only a few steps, jerking to a stop in front of Liam, raising a hand toward his face, then catching himself and lowering the hand before saying, “I want you. I want—us. I don’t know what—no, I do know what was in the way. I was scared. Scared of being hurt. Again.”

  Liam stood frozen. It sounded like Ben wanted—but it had sounded like that before. And Ben had pushed Liam away those times. Who was to say he wouldn’t do it again?

  “And now you’re scared,” Ben said. There wasn’t much humor in his short laugh. “For good reason, just like I had good reason. But at some point we just have to—don’t we? Don’t we just have to get past that? I know I’m no one to talk, but I think I’m right anyway.”

  “Could you—” Liam swallowed hard. “I need you to spell this out for me. You’re here because….”

  “I’m here because I want to be with you. I have no idea about the details. I mean, you live in the city, I live in the sticks, and that’s not too convenient. And there’s no way I’m going to be good for your career, so if that’s what you’re looking for in a guy, I guess I’m not a prime candidate. But… I miss you. I’ve been missing you for fifteen years, but I managed to convince myself I was missing a memory, a dream, an idealized version of someone who never really existed. But you came back, and—fuck, Liam, you’re not ideal. You’re a pain in the ass and you make me crazy and you totally destroy my Zen. But I still miss you. I still want you. You.”

  Ben stopped talking and took a half step backward. “Shit. Sorry. That was a lot. And I’m totally embarrassed now, and I want to start running away or making up a cover story or doing whatever I can to make myself feel less open, less vulnerable, less… less honest. Because it would be really, really nice if I was feeling a bit calmer right now. But I’m trying not to do any of that. I’m trying to be brave.”

  “You’re doing a good job,” Liam said. His voice was huskier than he’d expected. “You’re right. It is scary, and I’ve given you every reason to not trust me. But for what it’s worth? I absolutely, completely learned my lesson. I did something—well. I was going to say unforgivable, but I’m really hoping that isn’t quite true. But unforgettable, at least. For me. I’m always going to remember what I did, and I’m never going to do it again.”

  “Okay.” Ben nodded. “Okay. But—you will hurt me. Not on purpose, but you will. And probably I’ll hurt you too. That’s just what happens. Maybe nothing big, but even if it is, I can survive it. You can survive it. It’s better to take the chance than to sit around afraid to try.”

  “Who’ve you been talking to? Calvin?”

  “Partly. But not just him.” Ben shook his head. “I can tell you the whole story, if you want. But I feel like I’m maybe going to pass out from stress pretty soon. Could you just—can you tell me? Am I too late? You were right about Eric Wilton. Well, I don’t know if he’s a good guy, but the rest of it? I can’t really compete with—”

  Well, no words would tell Ben what he needed to know. Liam stepped forward instead, wrapped a hand around the back of Ben’s neck, tugged just a little, and kissed him. Slow and deep, with every bit of truth and love he could summon. And Ben kissed him back with just as much sweet sincerity.

  Which was nice. It was more than nice. But it wasn’t enough.

  Liam pulled free long enough to ask, “Can you stay? You’re not going to take off? And I mean, stay. Not forever, I get that—we’ll have to figure all that out. But for breakfast at least. Maybe lunch, or even dinner? Like—stay a while. Don’t run
away, and don’t push me away. Can you do that?”

  Ben’s eyes were wide, but he nodded. And Liam believed him.

  There was no rush after that. They stayed in the living room for quite a while, clothes on, kissing and swaying in a sort of music-less dance. When they needed more skin, more contact, they made their way to the bedroom and lay down on the bed, and Liam wedged his thigh between Ben’s just as he used to, decades earlier when they still weren’t ready to go too far.

  Ben’s lips, his cheeks, his ears, his neck, his chest, his rib cage—Liam needed to explore every part, needed to touch and kiss and taste and let himself sink back into the new/old familiarity. He needed to hear Ben’s whispered words, his gentle huffs of laughter when Liam found a ticklish spot, his sharp inhalations when Liam’s explorations found other kinds of sensitivity.

  The cool light of dawn was leaking past the curtains before they were completely naked, and it was full day by the time Liam finally let himself sink into Ben’s body and complete their dance. They moved together slowly, almost sleepily, easy and gentle even as their climaxes built. At the end, as Ben gasped into Liam’s mouth, as they arched together and then apart and then together again, they were as close to perfection as they’d ever been together. Maybe as close as they ever could be.

  They dozed afterward, comfortable and cozy, until hunger drove them to the kitchen to forage for sustenance. They stood together, staring into the fridge as if it held the secrets of the universe, until Ben said, “You don’t have any food.”

  “There’s cheese. And milk. I’m well supplied from a dairy perspective.”

  “You need some fruit. And some grains.” Ben leaned back into Liam’s arms. “I’ll bring groceries next time I come.”

  Such a simple statement. Such a simple promise. But it was enough to make Liam’s chest ache in a wonderful way. “Okay,” he agreed, turning to bury his lips in the crook of Ben’s neck. “You’ll bring groceries. In the meantime, should we order in?”

  “Breakfast? Does breakfast get delivered?”

  “This is New York City. Everything gets delivered.”

  “Okay. You order us food. I’ll have a shower. And I’m going to have to give Uncle Calvin a call. He’ll want to know how things turned out.”

  “Not with details, I hope?”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure he’d want any details I cared to share. But, no, I won’t give him much. Do you have stuff you need to do today?”

  Liam had work. Lots and lots of it. But he shook his head. “Not ‘need,’ no. Not if you’re still okay to stick around.”

  Ben smiled. “You’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me.”

  “I’m not even going to try,” Liam replied. And he didn’t.

  Epilogue

  “BEN!” LIAM’S mother enveloped him in a hug, and Liam’s father was right behind her, then all around her, enveloping them all in a sort of uber hug in which boundless enthusiasm made up for limited reach.

  “Hi,” Ben said as soon as he could wriggle a little bit free. “Thank you so much for inviting me down here!”

  “Oh, thank you for coming,” Lillian, Liam’s mom, said. “When Liam suggested it, Richard and I were over the moon! We’ve missed you so much!”

  “I missed you too.” Not as much as he’d missed their son, but, still—the Marshalls had been a second family to him, and Christmas cards and occasional emails hadn’t made up for the loss of visits and phone calls. “I’m not sure how to handle the next part—I feel like I should be offering condolences or something, but I get the idea you’d rather have congratulations?”

  They looked temporarily confused, then Lillian said, “Oh, the divorce!”

  Ben exchanged a look with Liam. Oh, the divorce! That old thing—I’d forgotten all about that!

  “Congratulations are appreciated,” Richard said firmly. “And I’m really glad to have the two of you here to share the celebration with us. It seems appropriate, somehow. Lillian and I may not be married anymore, but we’re still part of each other’s lives. And the two of you were apart for quite a while, but now you’re back together because you never really forgotten each other. Formal relationship labels aren’t the important thing, are they?”

  “Hear hear,” Calvin said as he, Seth, Dinah, and Tamara climbed out of their own rental car. “We get too caught up in the details and forget to appreciate the important things.” He stretched his arm out, offering the cooler he was carrying to Richard. “Important things like Dan Stuart’s kielbasa!”

  “Oh!” Lillian cried in excitement. “And we’re so happy you could all come see us as well! Seth! I can’t believe you’re a daddy! And your beautiful wife, and your precious little girl! And Calvin.” She sounded less excited for that last bit. Still interested, but more—cautious, maybe? Preparing to be amused but also worried about being shocked? It was a reasonable reaction to Uncle Calvin, Ben was pretty sure. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  “And for wrangling the kielbasa,” Richard said with more enthusiasm. He took the cooler and led the crowd toward the house.

  Ben and Liam hung back a little. “Is it weird?” Ben asked. “I mean—it seems weird to me. They still seem totally content, totally in tune with each other. Why the hell are they splitting up?”

  Liam shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess—I guess maybe they want something more. Fuck it, I think they want ‘passion.’ I can run away from that damn word all I want, but maybe Tristan wasn’t completely wrong. Maybe being ‘content’ isn’t enough. Just because they’re older doesn’t mean they’re dead, right? They still have a lot of life to live, and they want to be intense about it.”

  “Intense with other people.”

  Liam nodded slowly. “I guess?”

  They were at the house then, kicking sand off their shoes before climbing the white wooden stairs to the wraparound porch. A moment to appreciate the ocean view before Lillian was in action, shepherding her guests to their respective rooms, giving them a rundown of the events for the weekend, and generally displaying a level of energy that should have been too much for someone half her age.

  “Have we considered the possibility that your parents are breaking up because your mom has developed a serious cocaine problem and your dad just can’t handle it anymore?” Ben asked when he and Liam were safely in their room.

  “Nah. You watch. She’ll burn out by nine o’clock and he’ll just take over, being the gracious host until the last guest has finally stumbled off to bed. He’s at least as coked up as she is.”

  And the evening went as Liam had predicted. After dinner on the patio they all went down to a campfire on the beach, but Lillian was yawning before the sun was fully down, and she snuck away shortly after dark. Dinah took an exhausted but reluctant Tamara up to bed, and the men were left watching the fire and the water.

  “You got sharks down here?” Uncle Calvin asked.

  “Sure,” Richard replied. “It’s the ocean. There are sharks. But we don’t have many serious attacks—just nips, generally.”

  “That right?”

  “Well, maybe more than a nip. But not fatal.”

  “And whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” Calvin mused.

  “I don’t know how much stronger you’d be if you were missing a foot or something,” Ben interjected. He did not want his uncle getting too adventurous on this trip. “If you want to swim, swim, but don’t go looking for sharks, okay? Don’t, like, rub yourself in bacon before you go in the water.”

  “So careful all the time,” Calvin scolded. “You’ve got to live a little, Ben.”

  Ben felt the gentle squeeze of Liam’s hand around his own. “I’m living just the right amount, thanks.”

  “Smug bastard,” Seth said.

  “Maybe we should do more,” Liam said suddenly.

  “What?” Ben turned to face him. “You’d better not be talking about sharks and bacon.”

  “No. But—”

  “Oh.” The sa
me thing they’d been talking about for the whole six weeks they’d been back together. Their future, and how exactly they were going to make it work when they were living hours away from each other. If it were short-term, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But Ben didn’t want to live in the city; his occasional weekends there were fun, but he didn’t really feel at home. And Liam? Well. Liam seemed happy as a clam in North Falls. But his work wasn’t there.

  “Liam could be an architect anywhere,” Ben told the others. He wasn’t sure if this was a conversation fit for public consumption, but he really couldn’t consider the other men around the campfire as “public,” could he? “But he can’t be a great architect unless he’s in the city. That’s where the clients with all the money are, and for the really big, exciting projects, you need money. So—you know. He needs to be in the city. To be great, to do what he wants to do with his life. The city. He needs to be there.”

  “No, I don’t,” Liam said quietly.

  Ben frowned at him. “What do you mean? You just—you just said maybe you should do more. What does that mean? Is New York not enough? You need to go to Paris or Dubai or something?”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Liam’s smile was gentle. “That’s not what I meant at all. I didn’t mean more professionally. I meant… more. You and me. Like living together? I know it’s fast, but it’s not like we don’t know each other pretty well already. And I feel like—I don’t want to waste time. I want to be with you, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Ben did know. He wanted the same thing. The details? Well. He’d just have to make the details work, he supposed. “Is there somewhere other than right downtown? I know you like the hustle and bustle, but could we—I don’t know, somewhere quieter? A bit less central?”

  “I was thinking of North Falls,” Liam said, sounding genuinely confused. “You don’t want to live in the city—you’ve told me that already.”