Summary: Ben finds a rather interesting scene upon returning home one night. Set in Season 2. Kinda sweet.
Rating: G
Archived: 11/03/05
Notes: Spoilers for Season 2
Of course he's heard the story. Michael doesn't do introspective brooding when he's angry. He's more of a purge the problem out verbally while the fire is still hot and the anger can melt solid steel sort of guy (Ben can never tell if it's the Italian or the drag queen in him). Ben's often wondered if that isn't actually healthier than the way the rest of the world deals with their anger. Holding it in, licking wounds and nursing grudges until they snap. Not that he's about to convert to the Novotny school of thought mind you. Someone has to be the calm one in their relationship (That and after worry comes comfort, and he's big on anything that gives him an excuse to touch Michael).
So yeah, Ben's heard the story behind the creation of Rage. He could replay it to just about anyone by now, sketch by sketch, text bubble by text bubble Michael has told it so much. Not that he minds the repetition. Watching Michael talk is just as fun as listening to him talk. There are usually hand gestures involved, and the passion that appears on Michael's face when he's talking about something emotional always makes Ben feel affectionate (Or horny. Whichever).
He knows about Brian pissing all over Michael and Justin's hours of hard work. Heard about the two creators astonishment, fury and hurt at the destruction. Nodded at Brian's rather frighteningly appropriate apology, and took the description of the catalos for the whole thing with a Zen like grace that even the Buddha would have been proud of (because you can't break a 17-year-old art student's fingers without some sort of serious Karma backlash). He'd gotten the blow-by-blow from Michael in between dinner and more after-curricular activities only hours after whole ordeal had started, climaxed and come to its satisfying conclusion.
At the time, he'd been upset that Brian had once again managed to cause Michael pain by being simply being Brian. There were days when he thought only a five year old would have been able to completely understand the motives behind the actions of one Brian Kinney since neither five-year-olds or Brian liked being shoved out of the spotlight in favor of someone (or in this case something) more interesting. And yeah, Ben could maybe see how Brian had panicked. If person A, who you've loved since adolescents, and Person B, who you love despite the fact that you were not consulted about it beforehand, start hanging around one another there's always the chance that they may start liking one another's company more than the company of Person C who was the main reason Person A and Person B were hanging out in the first place. So yes, at the time Ben could sort of see how Brian may have caught the two of them in bed together and assumed that sex may have been on the menu. But right now with Justin and his boyfriend asleep next to each other on their bed, he's finding that he just doesn't get it.
To start with, the two of them are sprawled out on top of the bed spread, surrounded by comic books, and an array of Justin's sketches (He pockets a rather rough one of Zephyr to hang in his office) and fully clothed to boot. Justin may have cuddled into Michael's chest, but he's going to assume that this is one of those things Brian lets him do (but won't ever admit) and that he's just used to doing in sleep by now. He's actually sort of...relieved to find them like this. Justin had been pulling all nighters for the last week in a desperate act to get both school, Rage and work at the dinner running smoothly. A rather large shipment of comics had been keeping Michael at his store for all hours, and Ben had been waiting to see which one of them would collapse first.
It's actually sort of...cute. Inspiring the kind of reaction you'd have upon seeing two kittens curled up with one another (though he doesn't thing either of them would appreciate the reference, and the brief image of Michael with cat ears forms a whole new form of kink he doesn't really want to delve into). There's no humming sexual tension. No sin filled air (though if he closes one eye, blocking Justin out, and focuses on Michael that changes quickly), just a picturesque scene between two friends. If he'd been born with that kind of talent, he thinks he might have painted it.
In the end, he closes the door softly and heads back into the living room. He's got papers to grade (and Polaroid camera in here someplace).