Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jack usually takes the stairs at work.

He’s one of the only people who does, since the building is over ten floors and there are three perfectly decent, working elevators. Jack’s always been one for moving though, especially since he’ll be sitting in the studio for the next five hours. Besides, he’d overslept today and hadn’t gone on his usual morning run.

Sammy will oftentimes walk with him – mildly complaining under his breath, naturally – but today they’d gotten here at the same time as Chris and Jerry, so Sammy gave Jack a half-salute when Jack gestured toward the stairs, and braved the elevator small talk for the two of them.

Jack generally doesn’t see anyone in the stairwell and when he does, it’s not anyone he recognizes.

When he gets up toward the upper floors today, however, he hears a slight sniffling noise followed by a few hiccupped sobs. Jack starts walking faster, immediate concern flooding through him. Maybe someone brought their kid to work today and they got upset or tripped and skinned their knee, or….?

The crying noises don’t sound like a kid, though. They’re too deep for that. Jack starts to hurry.

Jack isn’t exactly shocked to see that it’s not a kid at all. There’s a young guy, smallish, sitting on the stairwell with his head in his knees, clearly trying and failing not to make any noise. He’s got a mop of curls on top of his head that obscure most of his face from view.

“Um…” Jack says cautiously as he rounds the corner, not wanting to startle the guy who was clearly already having a bad day. “Hi? Are you alright?”

The guy bolts upward, looking over at Jack with wide eyes. Jack approaches cautiously, moving slower up the last half-flight of stairs to get to the eighth floor, where the guy is sitting and where Jack needs to meet Sammy and the rest of his cohort shortly.

“Oh God, I’m fine, I’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone,” the guy starts to babble. He looks like a teenager, or maybe a little older and just with a baby face. He has dark curls that fall to his ears and black square glasses. Even though he’s sitting with his knees scrunched to his chest, Jack can tell he’d still be tiny standing up.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jack says, hurrying the extra couple of strides to get to the guy. After a second’s hesitation, he moves to sit on the stairwell next to him. The guy shifts away slightly, biting his lip, and Jack notices how red his eyes are. “I’ve seen you around before, right? You’re….you’re one of the interns.”

It clicks in Jack’s head as he says it – he’s seen the guy at lunch a few times, usually alone.

“Um, yeah,” the guy wipes his eyes. “Um, I’m Ben. Ben Arnold. I probably shouldn’t have told you my name, I guess, but…”

“Hey, we all have rough days,” Jack puts a hand on Ben’s shoulder and Ben’s eyes practically light up. God, the poor kid must be having a really rough time. “You’re on Morning Caffeine Rush, right? With Derek and Phil?”

Ben practically winces the second the names come out of Jack’s mouth. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

 “You’re…not having a good time on the show, I take it?” Jack asks. He doesn’t look down at his watch to check the time – he knows that they were early getting here this morning, Sammy won’t need him for another ten minutes at least even if he’ll have to hear some whining later about Jack abandoning him.

“I – uh – no, no – it’s a great – um, opportunity, I’m very, uh grateful,” Ben stammers his way through platitudes and Jack hopes an encouraging smile will be enough to get him to stop. He does, eventually, almost deflating as his nervous energy dissipates. “Um. It’s just. They’re not the….the nicest to me.”

“Oh,” Jack says, immediately feeling more protective of Ben. It’s one thing to cry from stress, another to have the stress be completely tied to another person, especially a boss. Jack’s been good at pretending not to let anything bother him for so long that he sometimes forgets how thick of skin he has compared to most. “I’m sorry, that’s awful, Ben. You don’t deserve that.”

“I mean, I’m just an intern,” Ben says quickly. “I get that’s pretty standard. I’m not – I’m not complaining or anything. It’s just – I came to LA just for this internship, and I’ve never lived away from home before. So on top of all the shit I get here, I’m in this awful sublet with five roommates who act like smoking pot is a personality and there’s never a moment’s quiet, and it’s so expensive anyway. I just really miss my mom, this is the first time I’ve lived more than a few miles from her, and the town I’m from is just so special to me and I’ve never been away for longer than a week – oh God, I’m rambling, I’m so sorry  -”

“Ben,” Jack moves to squeeze his shoulder, recognizing the symptoms of a panic attack after years of helping Sammy through his. “Just breathe. In and out. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben’s eyes are filling up with tears again, and Jack can tell how involuntary it is by the blush Ben gets when they do. “You must think I’m such a moron –”

“Hey, I don’t think that at all,” Jack tries to be firm while still keeping his voice soft. “The guys in this station – most of them are complete imbeciles who don’t have two brain cells to rub together.”

That gets Ben to very nearly smile, so Jack keeps talking. “And as for homesickness, of course that’s understandable. I went to college across the country, so don’t even worry about me not getting it. That just means you love your mom, man! Nothing wrong with that.”

“Thanks,” Ben blinks a few times, clearing up the water in his eyes. “You’re really nice.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would,” Jack says, knowing all the while that those words are deeply untrue, especially in this building. Ben knows that too, if his grateful smile is any indication. “I wish I could help more. I could talk to Derek and Phil, make sure they’re –”

“Oh, no,” Ben interjects immediately, eyes growing impossibly wider. “They’d never let me live it down if they knew I…I mean, they already hate me. Like, despise me. They think I’m such a baby. If they knew they made me cry – it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says, truthfully. He’s deeply thankful for his own thick skin developed after years and years of being on the radio, but Ben’s clearly not that experienced, or probably even the same personality type. He’s probably much more sensitive than most. Jack almost envies him for that. It must be freeing, in a way, that clear sensitivity. It’s certainly not something Jack sees much of from the guys he meets at the station.

“Thanks for talking to me, though,” Ben wipes at his eyes. “I – I should probably go, I don’t wanna be a bother –”

“Not at all, I was happy to help,” Jack says, thinking that this is honest to God probably the most productive and fruitful thing he’s done at work in the past six months. Maybe even full year. There’s not much that goes on here that makes Jack feel like he’s a good person, but helping Ben certainly did. A thought occurs to Jack, one that he should probably dismiss but his brain has already latched onto as the Best Possible Plan.

“Hey, my show doesn’t have an intern,” Jack says slowly and Ben blinks at him a couple of times as if he’s having trouble comprehending. “I could probably ask and see if you could get transferred. If Derek and Phil hate you as much as you say, I’m sure it won’t be an issue.”

“To…to your show?” Ben’s mouth falls open just a little. It makes Jack smile. “Oh, God. I couldn’t. That’s – that’s so nice of you, holy shit. You literally don’t know me at all. All you know about me as that I’m a complete crybaby.”

“Better than an obnoxious dick,” Jack makes a full gesture toward the door that leads from the stairwell into the studio that makes Ben bite down a grin. “You’d have to give up your Saturday nights, but…”

“Saturday…” Jack knows it the moment it clicks in Ben’s head. “You’re – oh, shit. You’re the producer of Shotgun Saturday Nights.”

“Jack Wright,” Jack holds out a hand to shake and Ben takes it, bemused and more than a little shocked if the way he glances between Jack’s hand and his face is anything to go by. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to – to meet you, too,” Ben echoes, voice a bit faint. “Wow. You’re so much nicer than I expected.”

“Most radio hosts are generally nicer in person than they are on the air,” Jack tells him, figuring it’s the closest thing to the truth he’ll get out. “At least that’s the goal.”

“Even…even Shotgun Sammy?” Ben asks, biting down on his lip nervously. Sammy’s reputation, as always, precedes him.

“Well…” Jack wonders what he should say – and what Sammy’s reaction will be to Jack informing him that he recruited an intern. “I’m nicer in person. And I can talk Sammy into being on his best behavior.”

“I…well…okay, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to help on your show,” Ben’s words all come out in a rush once he gets started, and his genuineness makes Jack chuckle. He doesn’t see much genuineness these days, unless it’s the unfiltered awful kind.

“We’d love to have you,” Jack tells him and Ben beams. Jack hopes Sammy will be a part of that we soon enough, but even if he’s not, he’ll get there with a little nudging from Jack.

“You recruited an intern? To be in our studio? Where we work?”

Jack figured it would be best to treat telling Sammy about their new intern like ripping a Band-Aid. The transfer had been approved by their station manager Carl, and Jack immediately texted Ben to meet them in Studio C with twenty minutes to go before they’re live. And then went downstairs to tell Sammy only about ten minutes before Ben was due to get there.

Sammy, as somewhat expected, has a betrayed look on his face as he hunches in his shoulders inward like he does when he feels threatened. He glares at Jack overtop the table and soundboard separating them, pointedly taking a long drink from his coffee.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Jack says, slow and measured. “He’s just gonna help me out with patching callers through and lining up commercials, alright?”

“But he’ll be here,” Sammy says, glancing at the doorway that separates them from the rest of the world right now. “For the show.”

“Yes,” Jack nods. “That’s generally a prerequisite for having an intern.”

“Don’t make jokes,” Sammy frowns, taking another long drink of coffee. “I – what if he notices something? This is why I hate when we have guests. You know this, Jack.”

“When we have guests, they’re usually macho bullshit whoevers that the studio pulls in,” Jack reminds Sammy. “Ben is a nice kid. He’s a senior in college, and he’s only in LA for the summer. He’ll only be in the studio with us until the end of August. He’s very sweet, and sensitive. Derek made him cry six times since he got here.”

“He told you that? Or Derek bragged about it?” Sammy’s face gets a little less perturbed and offended, softening into one of what Jack thinks is probably understanding. Before Sammy started putting on the show of a century, he’d been on the receiving end of a lot of bullying.

“He told me,” Jack says. He and Ben have talked twice in the four days since Jack requested his transfer, and Ben was seemingly incapable of not telling the truth. “He’s a good kid, Sammy. He’s not anything like the other guys here. And I promised him you wouldn’t be a dick, so don’t be mean when he gets here.”

“Shotgun Sammy is a dick,” Sammy points out, but it’s with a grumble which means Jack has already won.

“Sure, Shotgun Sammy is,” Jack says. “Sammy Stevens, however, is going to be nice to Ben when we’re off the air. Shotgun Sammy can do whatever you want him to when the light’s on, but you are going to be nice to Ben. Got it?”

“I am nice,” Sammy says, looking at the ground and not at Jack. “It’s just….it’s hard to be nice here, Jack.”

“I know,” Jack sighs, and resists the urge to put his hand on top of Sammy’s. That’s one thing they definitely can’t do here. “Just - be as good as you can, okay?”

Sammy hesitates for a second before he says “I’ll try.”

It’s genuine, though. He’ll try, at the very least for Jack’s sake, but Jack knows Sammy will be much better once Ben actually gets in the room and Sammy can see that he isn’t an asshole out to get them.

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later, and Ben pokes his head in. He looks to Jack first, nervous energy apparent but clearly excited too if his wide, white smile is anything to by. It dims a little when he looks at Sammy, but his gaze immediately flips back to Jack.

“Hi,” Ben takes an awkward couple of steps into the room.  Even though Jack and Sammy are both seated, he’s barely taller than them at his full height. Jack chances a look at Sammy, who smiles at Ben though Jack can tell there’s plenty of nervous energy that Sammy’s just doing a better job at hiding.

“Hey, Ben,” Jack smiles easily at him. He gestures to the seat to his right, which Ben practically sprints to take. “This is my cohost, Sammy. Sammy, this is Ben.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Ben’s voice practically spills over with enthusiasm as he sticks out a hand over the soundboard. He has to stand up again to reach. Sammy takes his hand and shakes it firmly for all of two seconds.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Sammy says, and  his voice at least genuine enough. “Jack says you’re a college senior?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben smiles over at Jack in relief as he sits back down in his seat. “I will be in the fall, at least. Just one year left.”

“Where do you go to school?” Sammy asks and Jack silently congratulates his good behavior with a nod in his direction.

“Oh, you wouldn’t have heard of it,” Ben blushes without making eye contact with either of them. “It’s just a community college in Washington, where I’m from. I have no idea why I even got this internship.”

“Probably because you had a great interview,” Jack smiles at him encouragingly and Sammy nods along. “Alright, so the show starts at 6PM sharp. Our first segment is just the two of us bantering about the Olympics coming up, so just keep an eye on the levels for me, yeah? We’ll take calls after that, which you can vet and then patch through to me. Those will be more topic-specific, but we’re doing a concert ticket competition at seven so that’ll be a little more intense. I’ll help with the calls then and Sammy can handle the talking.”

“That’s a lot of faith in me,” Ben says, but he doesn’t look nervous this time. His bright eyes and tentative smile seem much closer to thrilled. “Phil barely let me touch the board.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s a control freak with a superiority complex,” Sammy mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. Ben smiles at Sammy, the look on his face one of pleasant surprise.

“Well, I think you’ll be great,” Jack tells him and Ben beams at the compliment. Sammy casts Jack a look like whatever you say.

As it turns out, Jack’s more than right. He’s extra right. Ben’s an absolute gem, and patches calls through with absolutely no problems. No bad callers get to Sammy – Sammy has a torrid history of various bad callers – and by the time they reach their first long commercial break, even Sammy’s smiling.

“You’ve definitely done this before,” Sammy says to Ben off-mic. “You’re too good not to have.”

Ben turns pink, clearly pleased at the compliment. “Um, I’ve interned at my local radio station since high school. That’s all."

“Clearly it’s a good station, if they’re teaching you that well,” Sammy says and Ben looks about ready to burst with joy. “He’s better than you were at twenty-one, Jack.”

“Oh, shut up, you didn’t even know me until I was twenty-two,” Jack rolls his eyes, but can’t help but smile when he sees how excited Ben looks at the compliment.

“You guys have known each other that long?” Ben’s clearly only curious, but the question is enough to make Sammy break eye contact with Jack and probably regret saying anything in the first place if his scrunching shoulders are anything to go by.

Jack covers with a blasé “Oh, we’ve been broadcast partners for ages. We were hired here together.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” Ben says, and he doesn’t seem like he’s overthinking that. Still, Jack’s all too familiar with the paranoia that comes from working in this studio and he knows it won’t help anything.

“And you’re back on the air with sh-sh-Shotgun Sammy this fine night, and we’re about to make your dreams come true with two free Red Hot Chili Peppers tickets,” Sammy adopts his usual slimy persona as he leans toward the mic, now not looking at Jack or Ben. “Call in and tell us what you’re doing to beat the heat this summer and ladies, if your answer doesn’t involve showing off your tits, you can bet you won’t be getting those tix.”

It’s a bad line, one Sammy’s used before, and Jack looks over at Ben as he bleeps out the word tits.

Ben’s very clearly taken aback at the quick change, his eyes widening incrementally – Sammy hadn’t been quite as gratuitous in their first hour on air. Neither had Jack for that matter. The show had been relatively tame, probably subconsciously for Ben’s benefit.

Jack watches Ben’s momentary confusion clear up as he bites his lip, looking from Jack to Sammy. He’s a smart guy, Jack was certain when they met, and he’s definitely clued into the fact that Sammy’s just as much of a method actor as he is a radio host.

Chapter Text

Jack’s new intern’s name is Ben Arnold, and he’s so suspiciously lovely that Sammy is certain he must be hiding something.

It isn’t that Sammy believes Ben is secretly an axe-toting mass murderer – though he certainly won’t rule anything out – but more that Sammy’s never met anyone working in radio that’s genuinely just that nice.

Other than Jack. Obviously.

But Jack is a once-in-a-lifetime sort of person, both because he’s Sammy’s boyfriend who loves him very much against all the odds, but also because most people in radio are just there to hear themselves talk. Sammy included, quite honestly. Especially here in LA, at their XM station that he quietly loathes, along with everyone who works there.

No one at this station is nice. Sammy’s definitely not nice. Jack’s the nicest but even Jack has to pretend not to be as nice as he is most days, though he’s clearly making an exception for Ben.

Ben Arnold is quite sweet. And soft. Kind. Unlike anyone else.

 In an absolutely terrifying way that makes Sammy not trust him one little bit. That’s how threats hide, isn’t it? In plain sight?

Maybe two years of working here made Sammy more paranoid than he used to be. Maybe Ben is just genuinely that good of a person.

Or maybe he’s not, so Sammy has to stay wary and alert. Jack trusts Ben – not implicitly, not with their lives, but trusts him enough to joke around and hang out with him and ruffle his hair and grin at him across the room.

“Should I be jealous?” Sammy grouches one day after their Saturday night show in the car ride home. He doesn’t necessarily mean that, it’s just that Jack and Ben are bonding. They talked the show Criminal Minds during all of the commercial breaks tonight.

Jack practically swerves off the road as he reaches across the counsel to hit Sammy’s chest more roughly than strictly necessary.

“He’s twenty-one,” Jack says, scandalized, eyebrows raising into his hair. His hair’s getting long in front, maybe Sammy will cut it when they get home. “Barely twenty-one. Jailbait. Most likely straight jailbait at that, and only one of us had a straight guy phase in this car and it wasn’t me!”

“I don’t know what your type is,” Sammy says, quickly turning this into a bit rather than a serious conversation, and hides a grin when Jack turns to him with an incredulous look.

“You’re so full of shit,” Jack shakes his head fondly and turns back to the road. “You’re my type. End of list. You can’t possibly be jealous of Ben.”

“Not like that, in a – in a romantic sort of way,” Sammy says, frowning as the mood shifts back into something more serious. “It’s just – I’ve always been your best friend, Jack. And now you’ve taken this kid under your wing, basically –”

“Babe,” Jack cuts him off, and Sammy’s inordinately relieved to see the way he’s smiling softly, half directly at Sammy and half through the mirror. “You’re still my best friend. But we can always make a new friend. Friends would be good for us! Healthy. We don’t have enough friends, since Lily…”

Jack goes quiet, his mouth twisting in an uncharacteristic frown, and Sammy reaches across the counsel to squeeze his hand.

“I’ll be friendly,” Sammy promises and Jack smiles tentatively over at him.

Even though it’s exceptionally hard to get Sammy to trust anyone, he can at least be friendly on the surface. Ben is nice on the surface, so Sammy can be friendly on the surface. Easy math.

So the next day, when Jack’s in a meeting, Sammy decides he’ll go to the usual break room for DJs during lunch and see if Ben’s around. Interns have to do some general admin stuff outside of the shows they work on, and Ben said that’s what he was doing today when Sammy saw him yesterday, so presumably he’ll be there.

Sammy can check up on him, say hi, and then make his gracious exit back to the office he shares with Jack and pretend to go over last week’s numbers until Jack gets back and saves him from boredom.

Sammy braces himself before going into the break room, which he tries to avoid when he’s not with Jack because he feels so out of place among all the other DJs even if they think he’s just one of the guys and talk about boobs and booze with him.

He sees a group of the morning DJs on one side of the room, talking and laughing over meatball subs, and then a cluster of younger guys who he presumes are the other interns, not that Sammy’s met any of them.

There are no women, of course – there are a handful of women who work here, but much like Sammy they probably prefer to stay far, far away from the break room.

Ben though, Ben is sitting on the exact opposite side of the room as everyone else, very clearly set apart. His shoulders are hunched in the way Sammy has noticed he gets when he’s tense, and he’s bent over his sandwich studiously, as if he’s trying to pretend that he’s just so, so interested in his food and that’s why he’s not sitting with anyone.

….Look, Sammy has a heart and also spent a decent chunk of his life eating alone while everyone else was surrounded by their friends. It’s only natural to feel a steady rush of sympathy and maybe quite possibly affection or something like that.

“Hey,” Sammy slides into the seat across from Ben and Ben looks up, surprised. He glances down the table, presumably to the other full-time DJs who are in the midst of having a loud argument about who’s hotter, Rhianna or Beyoncé.

“Hi,” Ben’s voice is a little tentative, maybe unsure. “How’s it going? Where’s Jack?”

“Some big meeting with the other producers,” Sammy shrugs. “He used big words and I didn’t understand.”

That makes Ben crack a smile, and Sammy feels something similar to pride.

“I’m sure he would’ve let you tag along if it wasn’t important,” Sammy tells him.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Ben waves a hand. “I had to file stuff today anyway on the automated systems.”

“Sounds boring,” Sammy says and Ben chuckles, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“A bit,” Ben admits when he swallows. “It’s much less fun doing Shotgun Saturday Nights and Talkback Live.”

“You’re gonna do Talkback with us tomorrow, right?” Sammy figures he might as well double-check while he’s here and report back to Jack. Ben tags along on most of the shows they do, even coming to BJ and Kazoo’s the past couple of days. A fate Sammy would say might be worse than death.

“Yeah, for sure,” Ben grins.

There’s a moment of awkward silence where Ben eats a little more and Sammy overhears some of the interns discussing plans for getting drinks after work. He subtlety tries to gauge Ben’s reaction at being left out, which seems to be a little frown that makes his forehead crease.

“So, you’re just in LA for the summer?” Sammy asks to distract him, and Ben nods. “How do you like it so far?”

“Oh, it’s – it’s alright,” Ben says, his voice getting a little higher in pitch as he talks. “I mean – I’ve never lived in a city before, let alone a city this big. It’s sort of overwhelming. And I have this really awful sublet that’s like an hour and a half commute from here with these awful roommates and the apartment always smells like weed and it gives me such a bad headache –”

Sammy smiles when Ben breaks off with an embarrassed flush.

“Sorry,” Ben mutters, busying himself with his food again. “I just – I don’t have a lot of people to talk to here. I’m from a small town. I’m used to knowing everyone.”

“You’re fine,” Sammy tells him, trying to sound reassuring. Probably failing, but at least it’s an attempt. “I like talking. Part of being on the radio.”

Ben smile at that, too, and Sammy thinks that maybe he can do this.

“So, you’ve got a year of school left,” Sammy says, trying to think back to when he was twenty-one and what he’d been thinking about. It was only eight years ago, but it feels like lifetimes. He didn’t even meet Jack and Lily until the next year, and he can’t imagine life before Jack was in it most days. He’d been so lonely before then. Maybe a bit like Ben is now. “You want to….what? Be a shock jock?”

“No way,” Ben snorts with a kind of derision that Sammy almost appreciates. He blushes and looks at his feet a second later. “I mean. You’re obviously doing well for yourself and all. But….I mean, I think I’ve proven this isn’t for me.”

“You could be a very good producer, though,” Sammy tells him in all seriousness and Ben beams at him, all white teeth, in a completely unguarded way. Sammy never had that kind of genuineness come so naturally to him.

“Thanks,” Ben says, a little sheepishly. “But I’m a journalism major, and I want to be like, one of the great journalists of all time. Like – Cronkite. Or Brokaw.”

“Cronkite, Brokaw, Ben Arnold?” Sammy asks and Ben gives him a pleased look. “I’m really sorry about all the concert tickets, then. I doubt Anderson Cooper would approve.”

Ben grins but whatever he’s going to say is cut off from a voice behind Sammy. “That CNN guy? Didn’t you hear he’s a total fag? Well, I guess Arnold was probably thrilled! Jerked off to one or two of those press releases...”

Sammy's skin rawls, but he can’t help but look at Ben, whose expression has fallen into one of relative misery.

“Hi, Derek,” Ben shrinks in on himself, his mouth setting in a firm line. Sammy turns around to see Derek Peterson behind him, with a couple of his buddies that do the sports commentary. A spike of anger shoots down Sammy’s spine that has less to do with hearing the word fag – it’s a pretty common occurrence in this building – but more to do with the fact that this is the guy who’s been such a dick to Ben.

“What’s up, Shotgun?” One of the other guys asked – fuck, Sammy couldn’t remember his name if he tried. He’s probably purposefully blocked it out. This is why he doesn’t come to the break room without Jack. “Why are you hanging with one of the interns? C’mon, we’re going out for a beer before our broadcast starts, and I know you’re never one to turn down day-drinking.”

“Go ahead –” Ben starts to say, his voice smaller than Sammy’s ever heard it and Sammy can’t contain himself anymore.

“What is this, high school?” Sammy gives the three of them derisive looks. “Gonna bully me for sitting with the freshman? Jesus, grow up.”

“Who put a stick up your ass?” asks Not-Derek as the other two practically identical-looking guys glare at him, though Sammy can see the surprise in their faces. Sammy’s usual willing to be buddy-buddy with them, but this isn’t one of those times.

“It’s not cool to make fun of interns,” Sammy tells them. “They’re the ones bringing you your coffee, after all. Ben, you ever spit in Derek here’s coffee when he pissed you off? I bet you did.”

“I –” Ben’s blushing, but Sammy recognizes the smile on his face as one that’s more grateful for the defense than anything. “I mean – I think I’d better keep that information to myself.”

“Ew!” Derek glares at Ben and one of his buddies laughs under his breath and Derek rounds on him. “What are you laughing at, Paul? Jesus. Let’s go get those beers, yeah? Leave Shotgun here with his new best friend.”

“I swear, this place reminds me of high school more every day,” Sammy shakes his head before Ben can say anything as the guys turn and leave the break room. The rest of the DJs across the room hadn’t even noticed that an argument had happened, though a couple of the interns are elbowing each other and whispering excitedly as they look between Sammy and Ben.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Ben tells him, his voice more serious than Sammy expected. “I mean, this place is all about the Cool Factor. And I’m not exactly….cool.”

Sammy hesitates, looking around the room, not knowing how genuine he’s allowed to be here. In the end, he figures he might as well repay a bit of Ben’s kindness back.

“I know enough cool guys,” Sammy tells him, and Ben does his usual Someone Just Complimented Me happy blush that he usually gets whenever Jack speaks.

Sammy’s starting to like making that happen, too.

Not that he trusts Ben or anything crazy like that.

They’re on the air that Saturday when for some reason beyond Sammy’s comprehension, Jack makes the choice to say live on-air, “Well, my views on the Loch Ness Monster are well-documented, so…”

“Alright folks, if we let him, Jack Wright will just spin down this rabbit hole for the rest of the show rather than let me talk about the excellent opportunity you all have to win Dodgers tickets –”

Sammy’s cut off, shockingly, by Ben. Ben, who has such severe stage fright and goes bright red and shaky at the mere suggestion of ever saying a word on air, interrupts him.

Not that he says it into a microphone. He leans over to whisper in Jack’s ear, but plenty loud enough that Sammy can hear it, in a very urgent and life or death sort of voice, “What are your thoughts on the Loch Ness Monster?”

“That she’s real and has a special place in my heart and someday Sa – someone is going to take me to Scotland so I can find her,” Jack whispers back, and Sammy’s grateful he caught his mistake.

Ben’s eyes widen like Jack’s just unlocked the secrets of the universe. “Jack. I will take you to Scotland.”

“Sorry for the dead air, folks,” Sammy inserts himself back in, giving Jack and Ben a long look. Not a dirty look or anything like that. Just a reminder. Ben flushes and mouths sorry. Jack doesn’t. “Sometimes Jack forgets that this is my show.”

Sammy doesn’t say it to be rude. He doesn’t mean it and casts Jack an apologetic look as he says it that Jack just rolls his eyes at, clearly not angry but also not exactly pleased either. Jack misses getting to talk about whatever he feels like on the radio. He’s the master of derailing broadcasts to discuss niche interests.

Sammy loves him for it and misses that too, but that’s not what Shotgun Saturday Nights is. It can’t be. It’s not allowed.

“We’ll catch you folks after a commercial,” Sammy says and Ben hits the button with a frown in Sammy’s direction, probably in defense of Jack. Sammy quickly says, just in case, “I didn’t mean that, obviously! We just can’t do cryptid talk on-air. Knock yourselves out now.”

“Cryptid talk?” Sammy doesn’t think he’s ever seen as much sheer delight on Ben’s face than when he turns to Jack. “Is this a regular feature?”

“I used to talk about paranormal stuff all the time on-air,” Jack tells him, smiling affectionately. “I can’t do it now, for obvious reasons. I’d get eaten alive. But researching paranormal phenomena has always been a passion of mine.”

“Dude,” Ben grabs Jack’s arm so hard Sammy’s slightly worried Ben’s gonna break bones. “Then you have to have heard of King Falls.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Jack grins. Sammy tries to remember a King Falls in any of Jack’s various research projects. “The supernatural hotbed up in….in Washington….Ben –”

“That’s where I’m from!” Ben practically screeches he’s so excited and Sammy has to lean back at the noise. “Oh my God, how have we not talked about this? The paranormal phenomena of King Falls are my jam. I’ve been researching it my whole life, practically.”

“That’s amazing,” Jack beams back at him, casting Sammy a brilliant, bright look. Sammy just smiles softly back at him. “What do you know about Kingsie?”

Ben launches into a complicated explanation of something that seems lake monster-related. Sammy can’t quite follow it, and mostly pays attention to the growing looks of affection and happiness on Jack and Ben’s faces that completely mirror one another.

Sammy digs around to find jealousy somewhere lurking beneath the surface – and then he finds that isn’t there.

What happened to it? He should feel jealous. Not that it’s good for him or anything, but Sammy knows himself and knows that right about now he should be feeling pangs of insecurity at not being interesting enough for Jack.

Right now, though, all Sammy feels is happy. Happy and warm.

What the fuck is up with that?

“Guys, as illuminating as I’m sure this is,” Sammy reluctantly interrupts, “we do have to come back from commercial. How about we go out and get a drink after this and you two can discuss lake monsters to your heart’s content?”

“Okay!” Ben grins, wide and thrilled and Jack nods along happily, giving Sammy an approving look. Presumably because Sammy actually initiated extra social contact with a person that he actually enjoys spending time with.

The show seems to drag on a bit after that, but Ben and Jack are already talking and laughing about something called a General Abilene on their way to the bar. Sammy shepherds the two of them in and leads them to a table. They’re too caught up in their conversation to get themselves anywhere on their own.

Sammy goes and orders drinks – he’s sure that Ben would get carded if he tried anyway – and heads back with three beers. Sammy hates the taste of beer, but that’s what he gets when he goes out to detract undue attention.

Jack makes a face at the beer when he gets it, but Ben takes it happily like any good freshly legal drinker.

“Do you like cryptids, too?” Ben turns to Sammy with an eager face. Jack snorts under his breath and Sammy kicks him under the table.

“I know a lot about cryptids, thanks to Jack,” Sammy says. “But I don’t believe in anything I can’t see with my own two eyes.”

“Then you’re gonna have to come to King Falls someday,” Ben says, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’ll see for yourself.”

“We have to go,” Jack turns to Sammy with classic puppy-dog eyes. “We have to.”

“You could just go without me! I’ll be a boring skeptic who turns his nose up at everything,” Sammy says, trying to divert Ben’s attention from Jack’s immediate assumption that Sammy would come along. Coworkers aren’t that close – at least Ben knows they’re best friends, though. There’s nothing overly suspicious about that. Hopefully.

“That’s why you have to come,” Jack says cheerfully, hooking an arm around Sammy’s shoulder. Sammy squirms out of it with minimal difficulty. Jack’s not committed to keeping his arm there.

“I miss King Falls so much,” Ben says and the longing is apparent in his face as he stares off into the middle distance. “It’s my favorite place in the world.”

“How long have you –” Jack starts to ask but gets cut off by someone slapping Sammy a little too hard on the back from behind with a raucous cry of “Shotgun Sammy!”

“Hey….” Sammy looks up into the face of a forty-something burly guy with a ginger beard – shit, shit, he recognizes the guy, he was a guest on the show before – sports guy? Music guy? Shit, nothing’s coming to him. “Dude, how’s it going?”

The guy hits him on the back again and Sammy notices that there are two girls with him, both giggling at his antics like he’s the funniest guy in the world. Sammy mainly just feels like he needs a chiropractor.

“It’s going!” The guy chortles. “You pregaming, too? Gonna see out later?”

“Depends on where you’re going,” Sammy pulls his shoulders back and gives the guy a trademark sleazy smile, falling into the role. He winks at the girls he’s with, both of whom giggle. “As I recall, you don’t have the best taste in clubs!”

“Oh, you’ve always got jokes, don’t you, Shotgun?” The guy laughs again, and Sammy desperately tries to remember who he is. “Jack Wright, that you? Good to see you, dude.”

“You too, Bryan,” Jack says in a decidedly neutral voice as he reaches around Sammy to shake the guy’s hand. Fuck. Jack even said his name and Sammy still can’t get it. Shit.

They make small talk for three unbearable minutes in which Bryan doesn’t recognize the existence of Ben in the slightest as Ben grimaces into his drink. Then Bryan and the two girls are off and out the door.

“Oh thank God,” Sammy puts his head in his hands the second they’re gone. “Jack, who the hell was that?”

“Manager for the Rams, we had him on about eight months ago,” Jack says and Sammy groans.

“My memory can’t retain facts I don’t care about,” Sammy tells Ben. Huh. Sammy wonders when he got so candid. He doesn’t remember ever deciding he was going to make fully candid comments to Ben.

Ben giggles, biting his lip, still looking a little out of sorts. “You looked vaguely panicked for the whole conversation. Not that he could tell or anything. He was totally wasted already.”

“Small mercies,” Sammy shakes his head.

“You guys….really aren’t at all what you’re like on the radio, are you?” Ben asks, his voice a little nervous, but somehow, Sammy isn’t. Nervous, that is. He feels fine. That’s somewhat shocking.

“We try our best to fit in,” Jack says, diplomatic as ever even through his slight wince.

Sammy, deciding as long as he’s already being candid today, may as well embrace his newfound honesty. He turns to Ben and says “You’re the first person in that building that I can talk to without wanting to throw up in my mouth.”

Ben’s mouth falls open in a laugh, but that’s not what Sammy notices most. Jack squeezes his knee, just for a second, and Sammy feels better than he has in years.

Chapter Text

“Wow, Ben! A networking event? That’s so exciting,” Ben’s mom, from even over a thousand miles away, never fails to make him smile. Oh, and miss her a whole lot. That, too. “That means the studio must really like you!”

“I think it means that Jack likes me, mainly,” Ben chuckles as he switches the phone to his other ear, giving the receptionist in his apartment’s lobby and a nod when he sees her glance over sympathetically at him.

Ben would prefer to call his mom from the privacy of his own room, but one of his five roommates has a girl over right now and Ben walked in on them literally having sex on the couch, so. Ben had hurried into his room, changed his clothes as fast as possible, and sprinted back down to the lobby.

He’s been spending a fair amount of time in the lobby. He’s glad that the apartment building is at least nice enough to have a little lounge area available for the residents. It probably adds more to the already ridiculous amount Ben’s paying to live here, but he’ll take it over hearing moans and grunts for the foreseeable future.

“Jack’s the producer?” His mom double-checks and Ben answers in the affirmative. “Well, that’s a wonderful connection to have. Maybe he’d write you a letter of recommendation when you’re finished.”

“I’m sure he would,” Ben laughs into the phone, thinking of how seriously Jack would probably take that task.

“I…I’ve listened, online, a couple of times,” his mother says, a little hesitancy creeping into her voice and Ben internally winces. “Jack’s the….the one who isn’t mean, right?”

“Sammy’s not mean,” Ben says quickly. “Both he and Jack – they’re really different, off the air. Really kind. Wonderful people. They treat me well. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Well, that Shotgun Sammy seems like a piece of work,” his mom comes off as a bit frosty, but then again, if Ben had just heard Sammy on the radio he might be the same way. He can’t really blame her.

“It’s mostly an act, I think, to drum up listeners,” Ben explains. “All the guys in the studio are….are kinda creepy, you know? On and off the air. Sammy and Jack just pretend – to fit in.”

His mom sighs into the phone, more than a little affectionate. “Well, that sounds like a rough career path they’ve chosen. I hope you don’t choose the same, Ben – you should always get to be your authentic self. I’m willing to bet you’re worth more than a million of any of those creeps at the studio.”

“Oh, I know I am,” Ben says and his mom laughs. “Jack and Sammy are different, though.”

“I believe you, I believe you,” his mom says, and Ben wonders if his voice came out defensive. It probably did, honestly. Ben’s known to get defensive over things he cares about. “Just…don’t follow their example, okay? You should always be yourself, Ben. Remember that when you’re networking tonight!”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Ben can’t even roll his eyes at his mom’s sappiness. He misses having her around to hype him up, comfort him, make him feel alright even on the worst days. She can still do it from King Falls while Ben’s here, but he wishes he were there next to her.

“So, this event tonight – it’s a dinner…?” His mom asks and Ben bites his lip, wondering how much he should say. He doesn’t like lying to his mom but –

Come for the free booze, but don’t expect to enjoy schmoozing, it’s a nightmare, Sammy told him after Jack invited him along yesterday. At least three executives will be doing cocaine in the bathroom. Just try to ignore them.

Don’t scare him! I’m trying to do my part for his education! Jack hit Sammy over the head and Sammy gave Jack the biggest puppy dog-eyed look of betrayal. Jack turned to Ben and said, Just stick with me. I’ll introduce you to everyone, and maybe if you’re lucky a real journalist or two will be there for you to connect with.

“A party, I think,” Ben says, figuring he’d leave out Sammy’s key details. “Jack said he’ll introduce me to everyone.”

“Well, I think that’s great that someone’s taken you under their wing,” his mom says. “And I’m sure they’re both as lovely as you say, Ben.”

That’s the great thing about his mom, Ben smiles even though no one can see him. She always takes his word for everything, no questions asked.

“They’re coming to pick me soon, I think,” Ben says, checking the time on his phone quickly. It’s still fifteen minutes to seven, which is when Sammy texted to say they’d get here.

“That’s nice of them,” his mom says. “Are you up in your apartment, or…?”

“Um, no,” Ben gives the reception lobby a long, disdainful look. “I’m downstairs. Waiting.”

“Well, I’m glad at least you’re enjoying the internship now,” his mom says, a little disdain creeping into her own voice. Ben’s told her plenty of Roommate Horror Stories in the past month. “I was worried, those first couple weeks.”

“Well, it’s better now,” Ben assures her, because it is. The living situation not so much, but at least he has some fun at work now. Besides, Jack had offered to come pick him up tonight, and that’s a sign of some actual friendship – or at least Ben thinks it might be. He doesn’t know for sure. He doesn’t have many friends, and Sammy and Jack are both thirty and so, so cool, Ben’s not even out of college…

“Should I let you go, then?” His mom asks. “I can call you back after the party if you want to talk about it!”

“I still have a couple of minutes,” Ben says, standing up from the couch he’s been sitting at since around six, when he unceremoniously removed himself from his own apartment. He goes over the large, floor to ceiling window that looks out into the dusky LA sun and peers down the line of cars parked outside. Sammy said they’d text when they got here, but –

“I think I see their car, actually,” Ben says, recognizing the new-ish silver Prius from the studio’s parking lot. It’s not too far off in the row of parked cars, and when Ben squints he can see Jack in the driver’s seat, wearing a black tie over a button-down.

“Their car?” His mom asks, and Ben thinks for half a second about texting one of them to say he can see their car, when –

Jack leans across the counsel and kisses whoever’s in the passenger’s seat.

Sammy. Sammy’s in the passenger’s seat, obviously. Ben recognizes his untidy brown hair even from a distance, even when his face is obscured by Jack’s.

…..Oh.

“Ben? Did you hear me?” His mom sounds concerned. “I just asked if it was their car, if they shared one. A bit unusual for two successful radio hosts to share a car, isn’t it?”

It would be, maybe, if Ben hadn’t seen what he just saw. Not that two men usually kissed in a friendly way, but if they did, what Ben just saw definitely couldn’t be considered that.

“Um,” Ben clears his throat a couple of times. “I don’t think it’s that weird, Mom. LA traffic is crazy. Carpooling is a great idea. Um. I – Mom, I’m gonna have to call you back later. Maybe tomorrow?”

Ben barely hears his mom’s response, automatically saying love you, too when he hangs up without thinking about it.

Ben suddenly feels horribly, unbearably guilty for still looking out the window, and he goes to sit back on his spot on the couch.

“You alright?” The girl from the office calls over to him from her desk and Ben gives her a weak smile and thumbs up.

Ben only questions if he saw it right for a moment. He knows what he saw, and what he saw….it makes sense, as sad as it is to think about.

Sammy and Jack act like completely different people on-air, and Ben had always figured that they were like him. They just didn’t fit in with other guys very well. But they’re so close, and it makes complete and total sense that they’re more than just best friends, and exactly why they decided to spend their lives putting on a show.

God. Working in that awful studio is hellish for Ben – and Ben’s literally just that fucking sensitive. He hates hearing the sexist and homophobic jokes from the dickheads, but to hear so much shit every single day all the while sitting next to the guy you – well, whatever Sammy and Jack were. Ben’s willing to bet, from the way they smile at each other, how serious they are.  And they have to play along with it, take part it in when it’s the opposite of who they are.

Shit. That’s so sad.

Ben understands the act now. He didn’t quite understand before, but now he knows why it’s happening, why Sammy and Jack have entirely different on-air personas that bleed into just full studio-personas, especially in Sammy’s case.

It would be hell if anyone at the studio found out. Absolute hell. Even if Sammy and Jack got to keep the show, they’d endure so much continual bullying. No, not bullying – harassment. Something on a whole other level than anything Ben had experienced in his extremely limited, short life.

Everything makes sense now – and Ben just hopes that he never did anything to exacerbate the situation at the studio. He’d never said anything homophobic, right? He would never mean to, but maybe he said something and didn’t know better? Or laughed along at something someone else said? God, he hoped he’d been good.

Ben feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down to a text from Sammy.

Outside your building. On the street with all the trees w/o any leaves

Ben rolls his shoulders back a few times to try, tries to put on his usual chipper grin, and heads out the door into the sunlight.

“Hi,” Ben hopes he doesn’t sound as breathless or affectionate as he feels when he climbs into the backseat of the car. Definitely the one Ben saw before. Jack’s still wearing the black tie and blue button-down that Ben noticed. Sammy’s got on a leather jacket over a t-shirt, and looks a bit tense even when he smiles at Ben.

“Hey,” Jack says cheerfully while Sammy gives Ben a half-salute with one of his fingers. “How’s it going?”

“Um, great!” Ben says and hopes that didn’t come out too weird or loud. “Well. Not really. One of my roommates is having a sexathon on our couch so. I’ve just been waiting in the lobby for you guys.”

“Ew,” Jack wrinkles up his nose and Sammy makes a retching sound.

“Shotgun Sammy would say you should’ve stopped being a prude and joined in,” Sammy half-smiles at him through the mirror as Jack pulls out of the parking space. “I, however, think you made the right call.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Ben says, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders at the joke. It’s good that Sammy’s joking around with him, it probably means he trusts him, at least with a little of his true self even if it isn’t the whole thing.

Ben doesn’t blame either of them for not being forthcoming with that information. If Ben was a complete asshole, he could ruin their careers by spilling the beans to the wrong person.

Ben hopes to God his long history of oversharing won’t hurt Sammy or Jack – but also suddenly feels a rush of affection toward both of them for letting him into their lives in the tiniest bit.

That’s probably not something they do much.

“Alright, Ben, you ready to be scared out of your mind by the big, bad world of radio?” Sammy grins at him, half-turning around. “It’s a crazy world out there.”

“Maybe where the DJs hang out,” Jack retorts, rolling his eyes while Sammy laughs. Ben thinks his heart might burst. He wants to tell them what he saw, what he knows now, but this isn’t the moment. They have to go to a party with all the people that could hurt them. “Ben’s coming with me to meet the producers. A much saner group.”

“Still scary!” Sammy shoves Jack’s shoulder, and Ben fully believes how scared Sammy is.

Four days later, and Ben still hasn’t told either Sammy or Jack what he saw.

He thinks about it at least a hundred times, feeling a pressure in his chest and an urge to speak every moment that he’s with them and they’re not on-air.

God, he should’ve just told them in the car on the way home from the party, but he’d been a little tipsy and so had Sammy, and he thought he didn’t want to ruin the night. He’d had fun. Jack had gotten him a margarita and naturally Ben was a complete lightweight, and once Sammy had bullshitted with the DJS enough he’d come to find Ben and tease him about it.

But that was the last time they’d been alone outside of the studio, and Ben doesn’t know when the three of them will be again. He doesn’t want to say it while they’re in the station, surrounded on all sides. That feels unfair, to both of them. It would only make them even more on edge, and Ben’s sure they already are.

He’s noticed more, in the past few days, and wonders why it wasn’t more obvious before. He’d known the two of them were close, but with everything they say and do, it’s always we and our. They share a life, and Ben had barely noticed.

He feels like an idiot – but then again, Sammy and Jack clearly didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want anyone to know. Ben wonders if there’s anyone else in the world who they’ve even told. Ben might not know much about being friends with people who are secretly gay – one of his friends from high school came out, but not until after he left town, and of course there’s Ron from the bait shack in town but he’s always been out out – but Ben knows that telling people is a big deal and he’s not obligated to know any information.

He also knows that he can’t keep his knowing a secret forever. They deserve to know that Ben knows – and hopefully, they won’t be mad. Though Ben will understand if they are. He just really hopes they’re not.

And that they won’t kick him off the show. And that they keep being nice to him. And keep being his friends. Maybe. Maybe something like that.

Ben’s meant to have Monday off – Sammy and Jack are going to do a guest spot on a station across town – but then Sammy calls him at 6AM.

Ben’s always been an early riser, and is still been in bed but playing Tetris on his phone, when he picks up the call with a little confusion. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Sammy says, sounding somewhat apologetic. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was awake, what’s up?” Ben asks, sitting up in bed. The apartment around him is quiet – it’s only really ever quiet in the early mornings – but still smells overpoweringly of booze from the party that had been raging last night, courtesy of his incredible roommates. Ben had locked himself in his room and put in earphones.

“Jack’s throwing up his breakfast right now,” Sammy says and Ben makes a sympathetic noise. “I could go to this dumb show alone but. I don’t really….want to. Can I pick you up on the way there? I realize this isn’t inside the parameters of your internship, but I hate going to these things by myself.”

“Sure,” Ben says, feeling affection bubble up in his chest, along with the reminder that hey, maybe this would be a good chance to say something. It would just to be Sammy, not Jack, but maybe that would be better anyway? Ben’s not sure why he thinks Sammy will have the hardest time, but he knows it’s true. “I’d love to. I mean, I can’t actually replace Jack on-air, that’s completely…”

“I’m sure you’re good enough to,” Sammy sounds like he’s smiling. “But I won’t make you. I just – you know, I feel uncomfortable in someone else’s studio.”

“Of course,” Ben says, feeling nervous and flattered all at once. He loves getting complimented, and also when someone just wants him around for the sake of it, and it honestly sounds like Sammy does. “What time can you get here?”

Sammy’s there within half an hour, and he’s white-knuckling the drive so Ben decides not to bring anything up. He just asks about Jack, and Sammy doesn’t give a lot of details. Ben’s sure that they live together, since they share a car and all, but Sammy seems to be keeping that information to himself. Which is fine.

It’s not until they get to the studio, which is a lot older than their own shiny, new one, and they’re lead to a green room of sorts by a receptionist that Ben realizes that Sammy’s complexion has turned sort of green now, too.

“Are you sure you didn’t catch whatever Jack has?” Ben asks when the receptionist closes the door behind them. The room isn’t large, just two couches facing opposite each other and a side table with mints.

Sammy doesn’t sit on one of the couches. He paces instead, and messes with his hair a bit, making it stick up in back even more than it usually does.

“Just nervous,” Sammy says under his breath. “I don’t like being in someone else’s space. It’s…stage fright, I guess.”

“You’re on the radio like, every day, this isn’t that different,” Ben says, a little confused but knowing that for some reason Sammy’s hurting right now and Ben should try to make that better. That’s why he’s here.

Sammy doesn’t get the chance to answer. The door swings open a second later and a skinny blond guy who looks about Sammy’s age comes in. He has a face tattoo of devil horns on his forehead and the word anarchy tattooed across one of his cheeks. Ben hates him before he even opens his mouth.

“Shotgun Sammy’s back in the house!” The guy crows and Ben shrinks back onto the couch as Sammy bounds across the room with new energy, grinning like nothing’s wrong.

“Dave! Nice to be back, man!” Sammy fist-bumps the guy and Ben feels a wave of horrible sadness for Sammy. He has to pretend, every moment of the day. “How’s married life treating you?”

Dave guffaws, very obnoxiously in Ben’s opinion. “I gotta tell you, Shotgun, the ladies love me even more now that I’ve got a ring on my finger. Makes it a challenge for them, I think – not that I need much convincing! I met this blonde the other day who came in for an interview – Jesus, you should’ve seen her. Tits up to her eyeballs. Your type, absolutely your type. Well, mine too! Told her I’d hire her for a little…extra compensation.”

Sammy laughs with the guy and Ben thinks he might be sick. Sammy doesn’t look back at him.

“Whatever happened to that girl you were seeing?” Dave asks. “Not a committed man yourself, I hope!”

“Couldn’t tie me down like that!” Sammy shoves Dave’s shoulder, and Ben thinks the shove was probably a little harder than usual friendly banter with the guys. “All the girls I date end up psycho, anyway.”

Ben feels too hot for this room, or maybe his skin. The lie is so clear to Ben, even as Dave chortles at Sammy, clapping him on the back. God, Ben’s so sad for Sammy right now.  

“Just all women, my friend,” the guy winks, and then to Ben’s horror, turns to him. His devil horn tattoos are making Ben queasy just all on their own. “And who’s this? Don’t tell me you and Wright finally cut ties?”

“Uh, no,” Sammy says and when he turns to Ben, it’s with heavy, apologetic eyes. Dave can’t see him right now, after all. He even mouths sorry. “Jack’s sick. This is our intern for the summer – Ben.”

“Ben-Ten-Ten!” Dave says and Ben tries not to visibly wince. “How old you are, kid, sixteen?”

“Twenty-one,” Ben says, shooting Sammy a nervous look. Sammy sets his jaw and nods at Ben as if to say he’ll take care of this soon enough.

“Twenty-one, guess you’ve gotta have a few hairs on your marbles by now, kid!” Dave grins. Ben thinks about saying thanks, but doesn’t, because he feels like that’s barely a compliment. “What about you? You got a girl like me, or are you like Shotgun here and just can’t be tied down?”

“Um,” Ben swallows, feeling his throat close up like it usually does when he’s nervous. “Back home – um – where I’m from in, uh – Washington – I’m sort of dating this girl. Her name’s Kelly? We’re kinda taking a break right now because I’m….here.”

Ben doesn’t feel like Dave is entitled to that information about his life, but also is incapable of lying, really. He doesn’t go into any extra detail, though.

“Nice, you never wanna do the long distance thing,” Dave says. “You don’t get any pussy with that deal!”

He and Sammy both laugh, equally as hard, but when Sammy speaks again it’s clear he didn’t have to recover from that at all. “You’d better get back on the air, Dave – give me a couple minutes before we go on.”

“What, gonna do your vocal warm-ups?” Dave puts on a simpering voice.

“Fuck off,” Sammy says, and even though his tone is still good-natured, Ben recognizes the hardness underneath. “I just had to drive in fucking LA traffic for an hour longer than usual to get here, I deserve another five.”

“Fair enough,” Dave reeks of sleaze as she shrugs, and waves at them both as he exits the room. “See you in the booth in five.”

Sammy deflates when the door closes, misery evident in his face. Ben opens his mouth to say something comforting, but closes it when Sammy crosses the room to come sit next to him on the couch. Right next to him too, not the opposite side. That makes Ben want to smile, even though he suppresses it.

“Sorry about him,” Sammy shakes his head, not quite making eye contact with Ben. “And…and all of that.”

“It’s okay,” Ben finds himself saying. “It’s just – I mean, we all do what we have to.”

“Yeah,” Sammy frowns, and then rolls his shoulders back. “Alright. I need to get over myself and get in there and do that for half an hour. Jesus. It’s so much easier when there’s not someone right in front of me.”

“I’m right in front of you, nearly every show now,” Ben reminds him. He doesn’t mention Jack, because it’s so clear that Jack doesn’t count in Sammy’s book.

Sammy half-smiles at him, and very nearly makes eye contact. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t thrilled about you either, at first. But now – I mean. You’re Ben. You’re not exactly hard to be around.”

“Plus, I’m an intern, so you can just fire me at any point,” Ben says, mostly to be funny, but Sammy shakes his head.

“That’s not it,” Sammy says. “You’re just – you’re a good person, Ben. I’m glad you don’t wanna be a shock jock. This business would make you – worse.”

“Yeah,” Ben bites his lip, knowing that Sammy’s probably dealt with a lot of guys who have just gotten worse and worse over the years. He wishes he could do something to change that.

“So you have a girlfriend?” Sammy says, and Ben can tell he’s making his voice purposefully light, trying to change the subject. Maybe distract himself. “Up in Washington?”

“Sort of,” Ben says, deciding to match his tone. “I’ve known her since high school – not that she noticed me then – but we really are taking a break right now. We might get together when I get back. I wouldn’t say we’re like, full on-again, off-again, but we’ve broken up a couple times. She’s really great and all, but sort of….I don’t know, maybe a little too unreliable for me, in the long run.”

“Oh, yeah, I…I’ve dated girls like that,” Sammy says while looking at the ground, and it’s honestly like he twisted a knife in Ben’s heart he looks so out of place. It’s clearly a lie, obviously the furthest thing from the truth. Ben would probably have known that even if he’d never seen Sammy and Jack kiss, Sammy’s words are so stumbling and unsure.

“You don’t have to say things like that, not to me,” Ben says suddenly, his mouth ahead of his brain right now. It happens sometimes, with him, and he hopes this isn’t one of the times he’ll regret it.

Sammy turns to him, frowning slightly. “I – what do you mean?”

“I just mean, um,” Ben bites his lip to keep from babbling. He drops his voice a couple degrees and leans closer to Sammy so their heads are bent together. “I mean…oh shit, don’t hate me for this. I saw you and Jack? Outside my building last weekend? I didn’t mean to, I swear, but in your car –”

“I –” Sammy still looks confused for half a second but Ben can see the pieces slide into place as Sammy’s mouth falls open and he turns about six shades paler. “Oh, God.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I really really am,” Ben’s fully babbling now, it’s happening, “I just didn’t want to spring it on you – I just – shit, this was not a good time for that and I know that, I just want you to know that you don’t have to, to pretend with me and act, act like you’re that person, it’s fine, I don’t think of you any differently, except maybe I think you’re a lot braver than I ever thought a person could even be and – and – Sammy?”

Sammy stands up suddenly and nearly violently, he’s shaking so hard. Ben can’t see his face fully, he’s turned mostly away.

“Sammy, don’t freak out, please –”

“I – I’ve gotta go,” Sammy’s voice tremors, and he moves toward the door at a rapid speed. “I – sorry – I can’t. I’m really – I gotta go.”

The door slams shut behind Sammy, and now Ben’s alone in the green room with the bowl of mints feeling like the worst friend of all time.

Chapter Text

Jack has migrated from the bedroom to the living room in the past hour, mainly because of its proximity to the bathroom. He hasn’t thrown up since this morning, but he’d been vomiting most of the night so he figures that he’d better be closer just in case.

He can’t quite sleep, but his head is fuzzy enough that he can doze, curled up in the gigantic silky blanket that they’d gotten when they moved into the house three months ago. It’s their first house, and they figured that a huge blanket was an absolutely appropriate housewarming gift for themselves.

Sammy will always wrap himself up in it first and then Jack will complain at him, which makes Sammy envelop him in it, too.

Jack hopes Sammy’s doing alright. He hates Dave Rogers, but at least Ben had been available to tag along. Jack’s really grateful for Ben, today and every day.

Jack’s not doing much thinking about that now, in his half-asleep state. He’s coughing a bit, and manages to wake himself up every time he starts to approach deeper sleep with an unfortunate hacking fit.

Even in his mild stupor, Jack’s brain registers confusion when he can hear a door opening. Probably the front door, it sounds close, but who could it be? No one has a key, they don’t have a cleaner or anything like that, it could really only be Sammy and it can’t possibly be time for Sammy to be home yet –

Jack’s question is answered when he feels a loud creak on the couch next to him that tells him Sammy’s sitting down. If he needs further proof, the head that’s burrowing into his chest that smells like Sammy’s shampoo is certainly a good indicator.

“Hi,” Jack mutters, not opening his eyes but moving a hand up to stroke Sammy’s hair back. “Noon already? I must’ve actually slept.”

Sammy doesn’t speak for a moment, and when he does, his voice is creaking and teary. “…Not exactly.”

That’s enough to get Jack to open his eyes, and he shifts to try and get a good look at Sammy’s face but his boyfriend is fully turned away from him – or, rather, completely into Jack’s chest so Jack can’t see him properly.

“What’s the matter?” Jack hacks a couple of times as he sits up straighter, trying to pull Sammy off of him. His alarm is outweighing his haziness right now. “Are you alright? What time is it?”

“Ten,” Sammy admits reluctantly, and when he finally pulls away to look at Jack, it’s with tearstained eyes. Jack automatically reaches over to wipe at them and Sammy’s face tremors at the touch. Oh, God. This really isn’t good. “I – I didn’t go on the show.”

“Did something happen?” Jack asks, trying to think of the possibilities. Sammy’s a true professional through and through, and he never backs out of things he says he’ll do, especially when they have to do with radio.

Sammy’s shoulders shake, and he’s looking more at Jack’s nose than his eye. “….Ben. Ben knows. About us. He saw us.”

“I – what?” It doesn’t register with Jack for a second. “When?”

“The party last weekend, when we picked him up? I don’t know what exactly he saw, but – enough,” Sammy says and Jack can feel his throat close up, which always happens when he gets stressed but he’s sure the sickness isn’t helping anything.

“Okay,” Jack took a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down. “Okay, he saw something. Did he – what did he say?”

Sammy’s shoulders scrunch in and Jack grabs his hand when he notices it shaking. “He – God, Jack, he –”

Jack’s preparing for the absolute worst when Sammy breaks into a sob and folds his head against Jack’s shoulder, but then Sammy manages to get out “He was so nice, Jack. Told me I didn’t have to pretend with him. And I freaked out and fucking left him there! He’s just a kid, and he gets so nervous, and I left him there with fucking Dave Rogers of all people! God. Fuck. I don’t know why I did that. If he didn’t hate me before, he definitely does now.”

“Shh, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Jack says, stowing his own panic threatening to bubble over in order to calm Sammy down first. There would be plenty of time to panic about other things, later. “Ben is a good guy, Sammy.”

“I just freaked out,” Sammy’s voice is already sounding a little clearer, even though he doesn’t move his head. Jack shifts to kiss his forehead, once then twice. “I didn’t know how to respond when he told me and I just – I couldn’t.”

“Okay, it’s gonna be alright,” Jack says, hoping that the platitude will end up being true. “You’re fine. I’m sure Ben is fine. I’m sure – I’m sure he wouldn’t tell anyone else.”

Jack swallows painfully, wanting to believe it’s true. He’s liked Ben, he’s always liked Ben, but this is their whole lives here and he and Sammy both know that.

“If we could’ve chosen one guy from the station to figure out we were together, we’re damn lucky it’s Ben,” Jack tells Sammy, because at least that is completely true. Sammy sits up straighter, eyes still watery. Nonetheless, he nods along with Jack in agreement.

“I don’t think Ben would – would try to hurt us,” Sammy says slowly, and at least that’s a start. “At least not on purpose. But he’s – he’s really trusting, and he might not understand that he can’t say anything…”

“Hey,” Jack says, and cups Sammy’s face in his hands. “Worst case scenario, we quit our jobs and move to farm somewhere where no one can bother us ever again.”

That gets Sammy to smile, even if he’s still sniffling. Jack feels a couple tears well up in his eyes, too, honestly.

“Not bad for the worst case,” Sammy smiles at him, and leans in to kiss him. Jack starts to kiss back before he remembers how much he’s thrown up in the past twelve hours.

“I’m sick, get off,” Jack says, but makes no attempt to push Sammy away. When Sammy goes back in, Jack pushes his shoulders back. “Okay – do you want me to call Ben, or should you? Because if you really did just leave him there –”

Sammy’s eyes widen, and Jack notices the pink on his cheeks. “I – can you call him? Please? I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Sure,” Jack presses his forehead against Sammy’s for a second.

“I literally don’t know what I’d do without you,” Sammy tells him before Jack can pull away, and his voice seeps into a misery that seems real just at the idea that Jack pecks his lips one more time.

“You’re never gonna have to find out,” Jack promises and Sammy smiles up at him with such unreserved wonder that Jack has to look away. He doesn’t get a lot of those looks from Sammy without the filter disguising his real emotions, but when he does they never fail to floor him completely.

Jack crosses the room to grab his phone, which had been charging next to the TV. He winces the moment he sees the screen.

“Ben’s already tried to call four times,” Jack bites his lip and he can hear Sammy make a noise behind him somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

“I – I’m gonna go splash some cold water on my face,” Sammy says, a little hesitant as he stands, but Jack nods at him. Sammy’s good at confrontation in very specific settings, but this is absolutely not one of them and Jack understands completely.

Jack sits back down on the couch and folds himself back in the silky blanket, clicking Ben’s number.

Ben picks up on the first ring.

“Oh thank God,” Ben sounds breathless and terrified, which Jack is sure isn’t a feature of the phone speakers. “Is Sammy okay? Do you know what happened? I’m so, so sorry, I should never have done that to him, I feel so horrible –”

“Ben,” Jack interrupts, wondering how exactly he became the calmest person in this situation. “Ben, it’s alright. Sammy just got home, he’s okay.”

He hears Ben shudder out a breath of relief. It sounds like he’s been crying too if the watery sniffle is anything to go by. Jack wonders why he hasn’t cried yet. He’s stressed enough – the tension in his neck is starting to get unbearably painful, but Jack knows giving into impulse to break down won’t help the situation.

“Are you alright?” Jack asks him. “Sammy feels horrible for leaving you there.”

“Oh!” Ben seems surprised that Jack would even ask. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I even – um, I went on. For Sammy. On the morning show with Dave? I was on the radio. Like, live on the radio. Dave made me and it was kind of awful but – but I’ve never done that before, I was always so scared to, and today I did it. First time ever.”

“Ben, that’s amazing,” Jack says, genuinely meaning it. “I’m so proud of you, that’s huge. Thank you for covering for him – for us.”

“Jack, I am honest to God so sorry,” Ben nearly interrupts him in his rush to get the words out. “I didn’t know how to tell you guys that I knew, and I didn’t want to freak him out at all, I just – my mouth was working faster than my brain. I chose the absolute wrong time to do it and I’m so sorry.”

“Ben, it’s gonna be alright,” Jack tells him, getting more relieved the more Ben talks. “This is – this is basically just a worst nightmare scenario for him. And for me, if I’m honest.”

“You – you seem really calm,” Ben says, as if he’s realizing it in the moment.

“I’m only calm because it’s you,” Jack chuckles weakly. “And I’ve got a good head in a crisis.”

“It’s not a crisis, it’s not,” Ben says quickly. “I – I will never tell anyone Jack, especially not anyone at work. I wouldn’t do that to you. I know what those guys are like to me – they’d be a billion times worse to you if they knew. I’d never, ever betray you like that.”

Jack feels a bit of tension bleed out of his shoulders as he sighs. “Thanks for saying that, Ben. I’m – I’m glad you understand the situation a bit.”

“I have a family friend who’s gay, plus a friend from high school,” Ben says. “Shit, I don’t mean this in a I have gay friends so I’m immune to being shitty way. I just mean – I’m not entirely removed from gay people, and I get how bad being outed is. So I’d never do it. I don’t fully understand – I mean, I can’t – but I understand enough.”

“I appreciate it,” Jack tells him sincerely.

There’s a beat before Ben asks, small and insecure, “Does Sammy hate me now?” 

“What?” Jack can’t help but smile at how much he can tell at Ben’s clear affection. “No, Ben. The first thing he said about the whole thing was that he was worried you hated him for abandoning you.”

“I’m fine!” Ben says quickly, fondness and relief clear. “You can tell him I’m fine! Dave called a car for me, even. I’ve just been so worried about him. And you! I thought neither of you would ever want to speak to me again.”

“Ben…” Jack hesitates, but then decides to go for it. “It’s been a really long time since either of us had a friend. Let alone a friend who – who knew about us. There’s only one other –”

Tears spring up in Jack’s eyes at the reminder of Lily. A new wave of nausea sweeps through him as he wishes desperately that his big sister was here right now to make him feel better.

Stupid. Lily doesn’t want to see him, Lily doesn’t want to speak to him. It’s been two and a half years. Jack needs to let it go.

He clears his throat, wiping the tears away hastily, glad that Ben can’t actually see him.

“It’s a bit scary, to have someone know you,” Jack says. “Sammy and I have really only had each other since we got to LA. That’s all today was. Sammy freaked out, but it’s not because he hates you. It’s because you’re the first friend he’s made in a long time and he was afraid he’d ruined it.”

“I thought I’d ruined it,” Ben says, and Jack can tell he’s choked up again even through the line.

“You could never,” Jack tells him, and then decides in that exact second, “….Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow?”

“Dinner? In our house? Where we live?”

Jack would be worried about Sammy’s distressed wide eyes, but he knows that he can assuage the panic easily, that it’s just a kneejerk reaction of Sammy’s to having someone new in his private space. A state that Sammy and Jack very rarely find themselves in.

Jack had let Sammy have a few minutes of comfortable news from Ben that had made Sammy’s shoulders relax as he sank back into the couch cushions. He’d kissed Jack’s hand and thanked him for doing that for him.

And then Jack figured that this was going to have to be like ripping off a Band-Aid, and told him the less comfortable news.

“We need to talk, all of us, and better here than the studio,” Jack tells him, shrugging off the silky blanket so he could fully drape it around Sammy’s shoulders. Sammy still has a set jaw, but he doesn’t look nearly as upset as he did two seconds ago.

“I guess,” Sammy’s voice is more than a little petty, which means he’s going to be fine. “But this is – this is our space, Jack. Safe space, just for us. To be together.”

“And Ben won’t be here forever, he’s just coming for dinner,” Jack knows that Sammy knows this, but also knows that Sammy will continue to be petty until Jack’s explained away all possible snags in this plan.

Sammy sighs through his nose, but his eyes get a little softer as he pulls the blanket more securely around him like a safety net. “I get it.”

“We can trust Ben,” Jack says and Sammy makes a pained face that he half-hides in the folds of the blanket.

“Can we?” Sammy says, muffled, and then frowns. “….Don‘t give me that look. I know – I know we can.”

Sammy clears his throat a couple of times, but actually manages a genuine, albeit nervous smile. He slides his arms around Jack’s shoulders and hugs him. Jack hugs back, finally letting himself shudder into the touch. He can feel a couple of tears in his eyes that he blinks away. Just mental exhaustion.

“Tense,” Sammy comments, squeezing tighter.

“Kind of stressful day,” Jack reminds him, and Sammy shifts, pulling the blanket back around one of Jack’s shoulders so they can share. “Plus I’m still sick.”

“I’ll rub your neck later,” Sammy mumbles as he leans into Jack, securing his arms around him more comfortably. “Just...just need to lay here for a second.”

“Take your time,” Jack says, hoping that tomorrow won’t be a train wreck, and not just for his and Sammy’s sakes.

Chapter Text

Ben hugs Sammy the second he gets in the door.

Sammy –

Sammy hadn’t expected that.

Jack smiles nervously at Sammy overtop Ben’s head, which only comes up to about Sammy’s jawline. The intent in Jack’s eyes is clear, however. See?

“It’s okay, buddy,” Sammy finds himself saying as his chin unwittingly fits over Ben’s curly hair. Has Sammy ever called anyone buddy before? That doesn’t sound like him.

“I’m, so, so sorry,” Ben says, the moment he lets go of his iron-clad grip. He doesn’t get out of Sammy’s personal space, which Sammy isn’t sure how he feels about. He definitely doesn’t like how Ben’s lip is quivering. “That– that was so stupid of me, to tell you at Dave’s. I should’ve told you the second I saw anything –”

“Ben,” Sammy interrupts, trying his best to smile, since Ben’s eyes are practically welling up and if he cries then Sammy is probably going to cry and Sammy doesn’t cry in front of people who aren’t Jack. “I’m not angry, you just – you just really shocked me, that’s all. I thought we were being careful.”

Sammy’s been wondering in the past twenty-four hours if there’s anything he could’ve done to avoid or prevent this outcome, if he made any mistakes that led here. But he really didn’t – other than deciding that he liked Ben. And he isn’t going to stop liking Ben, despite the front he might put up for Jack.

Ben is kind of like – like a friend.

Sammy has never been any good at having friends. Lily is proof enough of that.

“You were, you were careful, it was just, just bad timing and mild intrusion on my part,” Ben winces first at Sammy, and then turns to Jack. “I really am so, so sorry.”

“We believe you, Ben,” Jack says, and Sammy doesn’t correct his use of we because Jack’s right, they both do. Sammy hadn’t expected to believe him yesterday, but he does. “You don’t have to apologize. It was only a matter of time before someone found out, and we’re just lucky it was you and not –”

“Literally anyone else at the station?” Ben bites down hard on his lip, turning it white. “Yeah. I can see how I’m your best bet.”

Sammy feels his skin itch, and therefore wants to change the subject as quickly as possible, so he says “Jack said you went on-air for me?”

Ben’s face splits into a wide grin, which Sammy hadn’t anticipated at all. He thought Ben, at the very least, would’ve been terrified out of his mind to go on air and hated it and blamed Sammy for putting him in that position.

“Yeah, I did!” Ben sounds very nearly excited. “I didn’t want to, Dave talked me into it, and he – he really is awful to talk to, even on the radio. But I think I got over my fear of getting in front of a microphone – I mean, nothing can be worse than that time, right? It can only get better from there – I didn’t combust or burst into flames or anything like I thought might happen.”

“That’s great,” Jack takes a step closer to pat Ben’s shoulder. Ben’s still standing pretty close to Sammy, which Sammy is becoming more okay with.

Sammy hears his own voice say, “Ben, that’s huge. I’m really proud of you.”

Ben beams. Sammy doesn’t exactly know why he decided to say that. It’s true, but he doesn’t know why he decided to put that out into the world when Sammy Stevens and genuine compliments don’t go hand in hand most of the time.

It’s worth it though, with Ben melting at the words and Jack’s surprised but pleased look in his direction. Jack looks pretty proud of both of them. Maybe Sammy’s showing personal growth or something wild like that.

“How about I show you around the house, Ben?” Jack says when Sammy looks down and doesn’t add anything else. “I’ve never done a house tour before. Could be fun.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Ben says, and Sammy shoots Jack a grateful look. “Are you any feeling better since yesterday?”

“What?” Jack says and then laughs ruefully a second later. “God. I forgot I was even sick, so much has happened. Yes, I’m feeling better. I think it was just a bug.”

Jack starts to lead Ben into up the stairs, and Sammy takes that as permission to disappear into the bathroom for a second and splash water on his face and work on breathily steadily.

This is fine. This is all going to be fine.

Sammy scrubs a hand through his hair with the water as well, hoping it’ll energize him somehow. 

“It’s just Ben,” Sammy tells himself in the bathroom mirror. He still has red-rimmed eyes from the lack of sleep he got, even with Jack soothingly telling him he loved him about forty times over the course of the night. “It’s just Ben, it’s just Ben, it’s just Ben.”

He isn’t sure at what point Ben became a comfort, but Sammy’s going to take what he can get right now. And what he has is that Ben is a nice guy who doesn’t want to ruin Sammy’s life, unlike most everyone else that Sammy’s ever met.

He thinks about how Lily would probably jump at the chance to ruin his life, and then promptly has to return to thinking about how to breathe.

Sammy’s made, at greatest possible estimate, three friends in his life. Only of them hates him, and it isn’t Ben. Just as long as he remembers that –

Sammy walks a bit unsteadily into the kitchen to find Ben and Jack already there, Ben leaning against the cluttered kitchen counter opposite Jack. They’re both laughing about something, and Jack’s eyes are bright in the way they get when Jack’s happy.

And Sammy – Sammy could also potentially be happy about this whole deal at some point, he just needs to get over the quick thumping of his heart whenever he thinks about the possible repercussions of Ben being here for longer than half a second.

Sammy clears his throat, and they both turn to smile at him. It’s very bright, that combination, and Sammy feels like he needs to sit down, and also that his head’s spinning. “How was the tour?”

“You have such a nice house,” Ben, as always, sounds overly and deeply genuine as he gestures around the kitchen, which is wide and spacious but without a preponderance of windows. Sammy thinks about that sometimes with a lot of shame and embarrassment.

Ben doesn’t seem to notice that, though. Why would he? Sammy’s the only one who has those facts meticulously filed away and available at a moment’s notice. 

“It’s a good starter home. We picked this one because we wanted a yard,” Sammy says and Jack gets a pleased, yet slightly apprehensive look on his face. Maybe he’s wondering why Sammy’s willingly divulging that information, but Sammy doesn’t have any answers for him. “Pretty decent for LA standards.”

“God, I know,” Ben’s cheerful smile is replaced by a scowl. “My apartment is a zoo, and it’s not even that nice.”

“Well, I think you might have just drawn the short straw on roommates,” Jack tells him sympathetically and Ben sighs through his nose in agreement.

“I’m pretty sure he draws the short straw on nearly everything…” Sammy can’t help but say it once he thinks of it, and he can see Jack put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Sammy’s worried for half a second that Ben isn’t going to find that funny, but Ben just rolls his eyes while giving Sammy a long, but humorous look. “You’re so original, Sammy. No one’s ever made a short joke about me before.”

“Maybe not one of my wit and caliber,” Sammy says and Ben snorts at that, and moves the few steps across the room to shove his shoulder.

Sammy kind of smiles at that.

“Well, are you hungry, Ben?” Jack asks and Ben’s eyes light up eagerly.

“I never get cooked food because I don’t use the kitchen in the awful sublet we shall not speak of,” Ben says as Sammy leads him over to the table. It only seats four people, but he and Jack have never even had a third person here. They usually just eat in the living room. “That would mean spending any time in proximity of the four roommates from hell.”

“I’m assuming it hasn’t gotten any better, then?” Sammy asks and Ben frowns at the table.

“Nope,” Ben’s mouth is tight. “I miss home. And my mom.”

Sammy finds himself patting Ben’s shoulder, and wishes he could do something to help. He’s had a bad roommate or two in his time. Plus, Ben’s a nice kid, he deserves better than that.

“It’s not forever,” Sammy reminds him and Ben grins up at him, seemingly his worries forgotten for a second.  

“Well, this isn’t too fancy,” Jack says when he gets to the table and sets the first pot down on the potholder. He shifts the other pot into both hands to balance before he sets that down, too. “Just pasta and red sauce, and then we’ve got some salad, too.”

“Sounds amazing,” Ben says as he reaches for the ladle.

Sammy’s never heard Ben be quiet for longer than when he practically inhales a plate of pasta, slurping noisily. It’s more endearing than obnoxious, and Sammy can’t help but laugh and tease “Hungry?”

“You have no idea,” Ben says fervently. “This is delicious. Who made it?”

Sammy’s going to answer but then Ben suddenly makes a pained face. “Oh, God. That wasn’t meant – I mean, I’m not meaning to ask who cooked like, who does the cooking, and then jump to any conclusions from there. That’s not – um –”

Jack laughs before Sammy does, affectionate and happy. That gives Sammy permission to smile at Ben, too while Jack says “Good to know. We both cooked, so you can’t draw any undue conclusions, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t!” Ben’s eyes grow incrementally wider as he turns from Jack to Sammy. “Other than, like, that’s really sweet. That you cook together.”

“Thanks,” Jack looks down at his plate, and Sammy notices his ears have turned red. Sammy might be blushing, too. It’s quiet for a moment.

Until Ben, shy and hesitant but with a little excitement to his voice, says “Um. If I can ask – and you don’t have to tell me, obviously, you don’t have to tell me anything, but. How’d you guys, like….end up here? At the station? When – you know…I mean, I would never take a job at that station because I’d be so out of place and that’s just a difference of personality, not…um….”

Ben fiddles with the fork for a second before taking a long drink of water as Sammy and Jack look from him to each other.

“…It’s sort of a long story,” Jack says, a little hesitancy showing as he knots his eyebrows together. His eyes are clearly asking Sammy for permission, though.

Sammy decides to follow Ben’s lead and take a long drink of water, reminding himself that he likes Ben, that Ben is good, and also to breathe.

“Well, Jack and I met when we did a show together in Tampa,” Sammy says, and Ben sits up straighter, listening intently. Sammy looks to Jack as he swallows, now the one doing the asking. Jack bits his lip, and then nods. “We were both just out of college, and – and we did the show with – with a friend of ours.”

Sammy finds himself losing the words he thought were going to come out next, and then Jack interrupts.

“My sister,” Jack says, voice strangled but solid. “My sister, Lily.”

“Oh, okay,” Ben says, and his encouraging smile in Sammy’s direction gives Sammy the courage to keep talking.

“We, um, we sort of had a falling out, when Lily found out about us,” Sammy rolls his shoulders back as they tense up at the mere mention. Ben’s fork slips from his fingers, maybe unintentionally. 

“She wasn’t…wasn’t supportive?” Ben asks, a mixture of shock and sympathy laced in his voice, along with a little bit of anger. Presumably on their behalf.

Jack’s the one who corrects him, with a bitter twist to his grin. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. She’s a lesbian, actually. She thought we were cowards for wanting to keep it a secret, especially from her. But we were talking about moving to California, since we didn’t exactly feel safe in Florida, at the time.”

“It was a long, bloody battle,” Sammy tries not to remember any of the specific things Lily screamed at him, “and now she doesn’t even speak to us.”

“She calls me on Christmas and tells me to leave him, mainly,” Jack’s hand, resting on the table, clenches into a fist. His knuckles turn white and Sammy thinks about reaching over to help him release his hand.

He doesn’t reach out, but he realizes as Ben tells Jack how awful that is, consolingly but with a hint of righteous anger, that Sammy wouldn’t be afraid to take Jack’s hand in front of Ben.

That’s new.

“She was kind of our only friend,” Sammy keeps talking, laughing even though it’s the furthest thing from funny. “When we came out here, we weren’t exactly looking to make new ones. I mean, if Jack’s lesbian sister hates us, we don’t have much hope for anyone else…being at all understanding.”

“That’s not true,” Ben says, quick and firm. Sammy completely believes him, for some reason. Maybe because he thinks Ben could possibly be right.    

“Well, we thought it was,” Jack shrugs, an apologetic look on his face. Sammy’s not sure if it’s meant for him or for Ben. “We did a few interviews out here but weren’t getting any jobs, and then during the one at the station we’re at now…Well, Sammy decided he was going to try to fit in a little better. And thus Shotgun Sammy was born.”

“Shock jocks aren’t exactly known for being good people,” Sammy’s mouth goes a bit dry when Jack reminds him that their current predicament had been entirely his own idea. He always knows it, but he doesn’t like to remember it consciously like that.

“Still, it must be so hard, going in every day and having to…to pretend like that,” Ben bites his lip, shifting in his seat. “I know I couldn’t do it. That takes a special kind of bravery.”

“I’ve always been partial to calling it cowardice,” Sammy mutters and Ben, surprisingly, presses his foot against Sammy’s under the table.

“It’s not,” Ben says in such a steely voice that Sammy’s nearly taken aback. Then his voice softens back to its usual genuine affection. “Really. It’s not.”

“Well,” Jack clears his throat to break up the tension and Ben quickly goes back to shoving a forkful of pasta in his mouth. “It’s certainly helped in the career trajectory sense. And the making money sense. So…pros and cons.”

Sammy can see the frown on Jack’s face, knows that Jack gets further from believing that every day. Sammy does too, but he’s often worried that Jack’s moving faster in the opposite direction than he is. Jack’s always been ahead of the curve like that, and Sammy’s still stuck in molasses.

“So you’ve been together a long time, then,” Ben asks as well as fills in at the same time.

Jack grins over at Sammy, loving and a little embarrassed, which never fails to get Sammy’s worries to recede. “Six years in September.”

“That’s so great,” Ben says it like a declaration, with clear meaning in his voice, “that you have each other. I can tell – I mean, I didn’t know you were dating, obviously, at first. But I could always tell that you really cared about each other. You’re both great people, and this doesn’t change that. I’m really happy for you.”

Sammy sets his fork down, thinking he may as well meet the gravitas of Ben’s words.

“I honestly thought no one would ever think that,” Sammy admits to Ben, wincing at the truthfulness of his words. “I thought if anyone ever found out, it would be more of a fire and pitchforks situation, not…and I mean, even you, you’re from a small town and all…”

“The town I’m from is really progressive,” Ben says, quickly, defensively but in a gently prodding way and not a mean way. More in a way that means come visit, come visit, come visit. “I mean, we have apparitions and werewolves, so even the old folks who might be a little ignorant otherwise know that the gay agenda is the least of their worries.”

Sammy can’t help but laugh at that, and Jack certainly can’t. He has that twinkling look in his eye that means he’s just dying to ask a long series of questions that will be half-comprehensible to Sammy but he’s sure Ben will understand completely.

And Sammy – Sammy is not jealous. He has a warm feeling in his chest, and likes the way both Ben and Jack are grinning right now. It’s not just that Sammy feels good, it’s like suddenly his whole life has become a much nicer place to live.

“Go ahead, ask about the werewolves,” Sammy tells Jack, who reaches across the table and squeezes his hand for half a second before he lets go.

Unwittingly, Sammy’s eyes go to Ben. His smile isn’t gone – it might even be wider. And he clearly noticed the gesture.

Sammy eats his pasta while Ben goes on a long rant about someone named Dylan Baxter and his troublemaking werewolf pack, and everything feels okay.

Ben and Jack spend about three hours after dinner going through the various Mission Apparition shows on the DVR, and Ben debunks everything in the episodes for Jack’s giggling benefit.

Sammy sits between them, happy just to watch just how angry Ben can get as he gesticulates wildly at the TV, cursing loudly whenever Dan starts talking about Proton Packs.

Ben eventually starts to yawn, so Jack switches over to Criminal Minds, the show the two of them like to talk about at work while Sammy pulls faces and complains as if he hasn’t watched countless episodes with Jack.

Ben falls asleep about midway through the second episode, and Jack looks at Sammy through his lashes in the way that usually makes Sammy blush.

Tonight is no exception, and Sammy shoves Jack’s shoulder to get him to stop. Jack just chuckles, and moves to lean their heads together instead.

They hadn’t really touched when Ben was awake, even though Ben had expressly told them four different times that he didn’t mind. Baby steps, though.

“I can’t believe he can fall asleep during this,” Sammy whispers, recoiling from the screen when someone’s hand gets chopped off as they shriek. “If I had to sleep alone, this would keep me up at night.”

“Good thing you don’t sleep alone, then,” Jack’s grin is practically shit-eating and Sammy blushes again. Tonight just isn’t his night.

Well, only in one way. In the rest of the ways, it was one of the best nights Sammy can remember in a long time. Certainly one of the best nights he’s spent in Los Angeles.  

Ben snores, very softly, more like just a sniffling little breath from his nose, from Sammy’s other side. Sammy and Jack both grin at each other at the noise.  

“Don’t you love him?” Jack asks, voice mostly soft but also a little teasing. Sammy doesn’t even feel a flicker of jealousy – he feels exactly the same way Jack does.

“He’s pretty great,” Sammy admits, the warmth in his chest expanding exponentially. “You made the right call with him, Jack. He really is a good friend.”

It’s been so long since Sammy’s thought of friendship like that in the present tense. Jack’s his best friend, of course, but obviously their friendship is a little different, with a few additional layers. It’s not the same as having someone like –

Well, someone like Lily around.  

“You should call Lily,” Sammy gets out before he can lose his courage, and Jack pulls his head away from Sammy’s suddenly, giving him a questioning and somewhat suspicious look. That may seem out of character for Sammy, but he’s feeling charitable tonight. “Maybe…maybe it’s time to forgive and forget.”

“Well, you can tell her that,” Jack grimaces, but there’s enough longing hiding behind his eyes that Sammy knows he’ll consider it. He knows that Jack misses Lily every day. Sammy does too; he just disguises it with righteous anger.

Jack suddenly chuckles, and Sammy nudges him to ask what’s funny.

“This time went a lot better than the first time someone discovered us kissing in an inopportune place,” Jack says, and it makes Sammy smile, too.

Lily had freaked out at them, but Ben – well, Ben had freaked out, too, but in an entirely different sort of way. A kinder way.

“A little bit,” Sammy says, looking back over to Ben whose mouth has fallen open now. “Maybe someday…we could add to our list? I mean, two is pretty impressive for our standards, but – someday. Someday, there could be more.”

“Yeah,” Jack whispers back, and turns to kiss the side of Sammy’s head just above his ear. His fondness is fully apparent when he drapes an arm around Sammy’s shoulder and pulls him closer. “That would be really nice.”

They sit quietly and watch the TV for a few minutes before Jack asks, a little reluctantly, “Should I wake Ben up?”

“No, he’s fine for the night,” Sammy says, looking over at Ben again, who’s clearly entered his REM cycle if the fluttering eyelashes are anything to go by. “He’ll probably sleep better here than in that horrible sublet of his.”

“Fair point,” Jack stretches against Sammy, taking a hold of his hand. “We have a show tomorrow, anyway.”

“I’m really glad he’s here,” Sammy says, the truth appearing to him all at once, along with tightness in throat. He masks the emotion in his voice, clearing his throat a couple times before he talks again. “I’ll miss him when he’s not around anymore.”

“Me, too,” Jack leans his head on top of Sammy’s, squeezing tighter. Ben sniffles in his sleep again and they both smile over at him.

They finish the episode before Jack turns the TV off, then gestures toward the staircase as he untangles himself from Sammy to stand up.  

Sammy moves to follow him, but then notices Ben’s only got on a t-shirt and jeans,  and that’s no way to sleep. He kneels down to grab their nice, overlarge silk blanket out of the basket next to the TV, and throws it over Ben, fixing it so that it covers all of him. Which, of course, is hardly difficult.

Ben stays asleep, but seems to curl into the blanket nonetheless. He somehow looks even smaller when he’s sleeping, and Sammy feels a weird protective urge that he’s not analyzing.

“What?” Sammy whispers when Jack gives him a soppy, fond look from next to the staircase. Sammy takes the three steps toward him, and Jack locks him into a hug. “He might get cold.”

“You know, it takes a lot for you to open up to someone,” Jack tells him as he lets go, eyes twinkling. “But once you do, it’s like you’ve known them all your life and you refuse to let them go.”

“Yeah, well, you benefitted from that particular facet of me,” Sammy mutters, trying not to feel embarrassed because he knows Jack means it in the best way possible.

“And I’m grateful for that every day,” Jack pulls Sammy up the staircase with both hands, and Sammy follows.  

Chapter Text

Ben fumbles through his wallet trying to find an extra dime for the vending machine. He’s going to need a Snickers bar if he’s going to stay awake for another three hours of transferring the studio’s old paper files to the automated systems, but he’s ten cents short. That’s absolutely not worth a trip to the ATM, but it’ll make Ben extra irritable this afternoon.

Sighing as he submits to his candy-less fate, Ben’s about to put his wallet back in his pocket when he hears laughter down the hall.

He turns slightly to see two of the other interns who he’s been working with today – he thinks their names are Todd and Aaron, but he’s not certain – coming down the hall, apparently laughing at some hilarious joke that Ben didn’t hear.

Story of his life, honestly. Well, maybe up until this past week. Sammy and Jack are, Ben thinks, his first really good, real friends.

The two interns approaching definitely aren’t, though. They’re barely acquaintances. Neither of them addresses him nor even looks in his direction, even though they stop right next to him at the drink machine.

“Hey,” Ben curses his heart for beating too quickly, wishing he didn’t get so nervous around other people, especially guys his own age. They both turn to him though, and it’s not necessarily with judgement in their eyes. Not necessarily with kindness either, but Ben will take what he can get. “Can either of you loan me a dime? I’m short.”

“Very short,” Aaron, the one on the right with ginger hair and freckles, sniggers. Todd shoots him a look that clearly says knock it off. Todd’s a little taller than Ben, but not by much, and Ben’s thankful when Todd rummages in his wallet for a second and then hands him a quarter.

“No need to pay me back,” Todd grins, and Ben tentatively smiles back. “Gotta have something to get you through the terrible filing system.”

“It does suck,” Ben agrees as he puts the money in the vending machine, selecting the A4 for Snickers. “It’s my least favorite part of the job.”

“Oh, for sure,” Todd says, and Ben thinks that’s where the conversation will end. He can congratulate himself on being social with the other interns and having it go decently well, and then he can go back to not talking to them for the rest of the day. He’ll report that into his mom later when she asks.

Aaron, however, interrupts before Ben can head back down the hall to the little office they and two other interns have been working in for the past morning.

“You’re stuck there much less of the time than we are,” Aaron says, and now Ben recognizes that good old judgement. Aaron’s eyes are hard and critical as he looks Ben up and down. Ben glances at Todd, maybe for help, but Todd doesn’t seem to be paying attention, preoccupied with getting a soda from the drink machine.

“The guys I’m interning with just have a lot of shows,” Ben says, trying not to shrink in on himself. It’s nothing to apologize for. Sammy and Jack are busy people, and they usually invite Ben along on their business. It’s not Ben’s fault that whoever Aaron’s interning with is a less esteemed employee of the station.

“You’re on Shotgun Saturday Nights, right?” Todd, thankfully, turns back into the conversation. It’s not really in Ben’s defense, but at least he seems on the nicer side. “Man, Shotgun’s the best.”

Ben sighs internally, because anyone who loves Shotgun Sammy isn’t someone Ben’s going to have a lot of common ground with at the end of the day.

Sammy Stevens, sure. But Shotgun Sammy barely counts as Sammy. The real Sammy is kind and soft and makes Ben feel more welcome than anyone else ever could. That’s the opposite of Shotgun’s energy.

“Bet you think you’re hot shit, huh?” Aaron says with enough vitriol that Ben’s taken aback. When did this become a confrontation? “Interns are meant to just be on one show, you know, and what are you doing? Three?”

“Jack’s just really nice,” Ben says in a last ditch attempt to try to throw this on someone else. Aaron clearly has some misplaced jealousy issues, but why does that mean he has to take it out on Ben? Todd seems a little confused, too, raising an eyebrow at his friend to ask what’s going on.

Aaron laughs, short and quick. “Yeah, well, I guess that answers why you’re the golden boy. Bet you’re just sucking Wright’s dick.”

Ben feels his face heat up without meaning to, and an awful sick feeling unfurls in his stomach. God, no wonder Sammy and Jack do so much pretending. “Hey, that’s really not –”

“The fuck did you just say to Ben?”

Ben thinks he’s never been more relieved to Sammy in his life. He jumps at the sound of his voice as Sammy’s storms down the opposite hallway from the vending machine. It only takes four quick strides for him to get to Todd and Aaron, and Sammy’s brow is furrowed unkindly.

“Oh, shit,” Todd whispers, glaring at Aaron who’s turned beet red. Sammy doesn’t stop glaring them down.

“I said, what the fuck did you just say to Ben?” Sammy bites at the two guys with more anger in his voice than Ben’s ever heard from him before. Sammy’s fists are clearly clenched, even though they’re half-obscured by his arms folded in front of his chest.  

“Sorry,” Aaron scuffs his shoe against the floor as he starts to slink down the other hall back toward the filing rooms.

“I didn’t say anything,” Todd turns to follow his friend, but gives Sammy a half-terrified, half-awed glance. “That was all him. Um, I’m really sorry anyway!”

Sammy’s shoulders relax when the two of them are out of sight, and he slumps when he turns to Ben, his brown eyes less fiery and more exhausted than anything else.

“Hey,” Sammy’s smile is more of a grimace. “I saw you at the vending machines and figured I’d stick around and see if you came my way after you finished hanging with the interns. Guess I was lucky to be there?”

“Lucky for me,” Ben says, resisting the urge to reach out and hug Sammy. It’s been a week since Ben went to Sammy and Jack’s for dinner, and Sammy finally seems completely comfortable with Ben just…knowing. Ben’s hung out with them outside of work another two times this week, once at a bar and then at their house again, so he knows Sammy’s steadily getting okay with this.

Ben still feels horrible about how it all went down at Dave’s, but Sammy seems to feel equally as bad, so maybe they’re cancelling each other out.

“Not so lucky for you,” Ben finishes his thought, biting down on his lip. “I’m really sorry you had to hear that. And that you had to rescue me. Again. I should really take a leaf out of your book and try to fit in with the interns a little better so they don’t resent me but –”

“That kid just has jealousy issues,” Sammy snorts, rolling his eyes. Then his face grows a little softer as he says “It’s good that you’re authentic, Ben. You’re the only real person here. If I were half as authentic as you were, I’d get twice the shit. Then you’d need to be the one rescuing me.”

“I’d do it,” Ben promises, thinking maybe Sammy needed to hear it. “If you needed me to, I would.”

Sammy looks down the hall with narrowed eyes, but eventually he looks back to Ben, reluctantly smiling in the soft way he does when no one’s watching. It’s the same smile Ben thinks Jack gets from Sammy, and that makes him feel nice. “Yeah. I know you would. You’re the bravest person I know, Ben.”

Ben practically feels his heart expand in his chest at the compliment, even as he feels himself turn red. “Shut up, I’m not actually hiding anything – you’re much braver than I am.”

Sammy doesn’t look Ben in the eye when he mutters “Whatever.”

Still, Ben thinks he sees some affection lurking somewhere behind Sammy’s mask. He likes to believe he’s getting good at reading the guy.

“Anyway, are you done with the accursed filing yet?” Sammy asks, tone purposefully light. “Jack and I were talking about going to lunch. It’s just a paperwork day for us so we’re probably as bored as you are.”

“Um, I don’t think we’re really allowed,” Ben shoots eyes down the hall, thinking of the intern supervisor Brian who thinks Ben’s nothing more than an oversensitive gnat that should be squashed. “I’m done at four, though.”

“I’ll tell Jack, we’ll get dinner or something,” Sammy says, completely casual, which makes Ben feel even warmer. He’s never been automatically considered like that before. His few friends in high school and college had never included him in that easy, no-brainer way.

“Cool,” Ben tries not to show just how pleased he is. “I’ll take any excuse to get away from the sublet from hell for another couple hours.”

Sammy shifts from one foot to another as a small frown appears on his face, along with a crease in his forehead. “Um, hey, so. About that.”

Ben frowns back, not knowing how to feel about the way Sammy’s shoulders are scrunching in and Sammy’s eyes are more focused on Ben’s nose than making eye contact. “What?”

Sammy casts another look back down the empty hallway, and then leans down closer to Ben’s height. He’s not quite whispering, but his voice drops several degrees in volume.

“Jack wanted me to tell you that you can stay in our spare room for the rest of the summer.”

Sammy says it very quickly, almost in a rush to get the words out, but it takes Ben twice as long to process them.

“I – I – really?” Ben looks up with wide eyes, still not quite comprehending the words in his heart even though his brain has done its job. He’s only able to process it when he sees the slight quirking up of the corners of Sammy’s mouth.

“Really,” Sammy says, and Ben hears the affection. Not dread, not apprehension, just fondness. No one’s ever that fond when they talk to Ben. “Rent-free – you can chip in for groceries if you want, but you don’t have to. That way you’re not spending any more money, and you can get away from your hellish roommates. I mean, you’ll get us, so I don’t know how fair a trade it is…”

Sammy looks hesitant for half a second, but it’s all Ben can do not to reach out and hug the life out of him.

He’s not going to hug him. They’re at work, and Ben’s going to contain himself, but he absolutely cannot contain his beaming smile and maybe a tear or two in the corners of his eyes, though he’ll deny that if Sammy points it out.

“I – wow, I don’t even know what to say,” Ben whispers, and Sammy laughs softly. He’s still not quite looking at Ben, but Ben isn’t taking that as a sign of discomfort anymore, only as Sammy not knowing quite how to emote properly. “You’re okay with it, though? He didn’t have to talk you into it or anything?”

“Jack talks me into things every day,” Sammy says, still fond, “but not this particular time, no. If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.”

“Of course I am,” Ben says, literally trying not to jump for joy. He’d never have to come home to a group of high twenty-somethings surrounding a bong and judging him for not joining him ever again. “I – when can I –”

“Whenever you want,” Sammy tells him. “Though be warned, I’m sure Jack suggested it so he’ll have someone to talk to about cryptids every hour of the day…”

“That’s not a warning, that’s an incentive,” Ben could faint, he’s so pleased. Sammy’s grin gets broader. “Thank you. Oh my God, thank you so much. I know it’s only for six weeks, but – are you sure I can’t pay you?”

“We would refuse to accept the money,” Sammy says as if it should be obvious.

“I – I have to get back to the files,” Ben realizes with a rush of disappointment, casting a look down the hallway. Someone passes the other end of it, but doesn’t look over in their direction. “Thank you so much. I know you weren’t exactly planning on having me be in your life in any sort of significant way, especially to the level that I am now, but –”

“It wasn’t a plan, but – but I’m glad you’re around Ben,” Sammy says, and he doesn’t lower his voice which is somehow more gratifying than the words themselves. “As crazy as it would sound to me two months ago, I’m glad you know what you do. You’re….you’re really good for me. And Jack. It’s nice to have you here.”

“It’s nice to be here,” Ben says, and then gestures down the hall as he walks backward, still grinning. Sammy grins back, shaking his head with a strange kind of fondness, but one that Ben could definitely get used to.

The news that Ben can finally be done with his horrific sublet, along with the far more significant feeling of accomplishment that comes from knowing that Sammy Stevens trusts Ben enough to let him live in his house, buoys him through the afternoon.

He works faster than any other intern, causing Aaron to shoot him four or five distasteful looks but Ben can’t even bring himself to care right now. Aaron is insignificant in the face of Ben having good friends who care about him.

Brian even reluctantly lets Ben go half an hour early, not able to find any fault in the quick work Ben’s made of his section of the filing today.

Ben’s too impatient to wait for the elevator, so he practically runs up the stairs to get to Sammy and Jack’s office, three floors above the ground floor where the files are stored. He takes them two at a time, giddiness coursing through his veins.  

When he skids to a halt outside of the office, he doesn’t even knock before he enters. Not that Ben is generally a knocking type person. He’ll have to be better about that when he’s living with Sammy and Jack, but this is just their office and Ben’s dying to see them.

Jack’s the only one there when Ben catches his winded breath, shutting the door behind him. Jack’s got in his square-framed glasses that Ben’s only seen a handful of times, and he looks up without surprise, just relative amusement.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t supposed to get here until four,” Jack says, voice mild but pleased. “Sammy’s in the bathroom, but we’ll be ready to leave in like twenty minutes? We were talking about maybe going to a movie if you wanted to join us –”

Ben can’t help it, now that there’s a door between them and the outside world, and he launches himself across the room to hug Jack tightly. It’s a little awkward, with Jack sitting and Ben standing, but Ben’s short enough to make it work and their elbows are only in slightly uncomfortable positions.

“Hello to you, too,” Jack laughs, and squeezes Ben back for a second. Ben takes another few to let go completely. “What’s with the enthusiasm? Not that you’re not always enthusiastic, but this seems like an all new level for you.”

Ben frowns, his energy dampening at the increasingly confused look on Jack’s face. “….You don’t know?”

Jack shakes his head, still as kind and lovely as ever, just without any clue what Ben’s talking about. “No? Should I?”

“Um,” Ben feels his face heat up in a bit of embarrassment. It’s just Jack, he doesn’t need to be embarrassed, but Ben doesn’t really know what’s happening now. Still, he can’t help the panic that rises in his chest. “Sammy told me that you’d – you’d invited me to come stay with you guys for the rest of the summer? So I could give up my sublet? It’s fine if you want to take that back, I get you’re really private and me being there would be a total imposition, I’m absolutely fine if you –”

“Ben, slow down,” Jack’s eyes widen incrementally as he holds a hand out. He even stands up, which Ben thinks is unfair in the game of making Ben panic less because Jack is nine inches taller than he is. Still, when he puts a hand on Ben’s shoulder, it does help Ben take in a deeper breath. “Of course you can stay with us.”

Ben smiles weakly up at him, wondering why he ever thought Jack might say otherwise. “I – I don’t need to. I’m fine. It’s just that Sammy said you told him to invite me….”

A small smile appears on Jack’s face, affection appearing that seems mostly directed at Ben, but he glances toward the doorway too as if waiting for Sammy to come back.

“I just didn’t know he’d asked you yet,” Jack says, and Ben feels himself relax even further. “Also….it wasn’t my idea.”

Ben doesn’t quite process the repercussions of that, but only for half a second. Then his mouth slowly falls open as he realizes, “Sammy…”

“He brought it up a couple of days ago,” Jack says, barely containing his smile. “He sat me down in the living room. He had a whole speech prepared about how it wasn’t good for your mental health to be in such a difficult living situation, and how much you’d save on gas money if you lived with us. He brought up the fact that you said you hadn’t had cooked food for dinner since living here six times, and had statistics about the pitfalls of college diets. He also had a long rant about how really, it’s our duty to look out for you, and we’d be shirking our responsibilities to your well-being. He brought up your mother only having one son twice. It was a drawn-out process in which I wasn’t allowed to interject.”

Ben just gapes, not knowing what to say. All he knows is that he’s probably never felt more grateful for a person in all his life. It was one thing thinking that Jack had invited him to stay – Jack, who had looked out for Ben since the moment they met. It was another to be so completely trusted by Sammy, who Ben knew had been so reticent to let him in. And especially after how badly Ben had fucked up telling him about knowing about him and Jack…

“And you’re okay with it, too?” Ben finds himself asking Jack because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Obviously,” Jack squeezes Ben’s shoulder. “I’ve missed having a good friend, Ben. It’s been a long time. You finding out….what you found out, that just made all this easier on us, shockingly enough. So don’t even worry about that, okay?”

It’s like Jack’s a mind-reader. Ben can’t help but hug him again, and finds himself buried in Jack’s chest, which is as far as Ben’s head comes up. He doesn’t mind it right now, though. Jack’s nice and warm and pleasant and Ben loves his friends.

“I think Sammy realized you’re only going to be here for a little longer,” Jack says quietly before he lets go, his hand coming up to pat the back of Ben’s neck, “and he wants to spend as much time with you as he can before you go. And so do I – so that works out really great for both of us. We’ll miss you when you leave.”

The door opens before Jack’s done talking, and Jack turns mid-sentence when Sammy comes in the room. Ben’s heart thumps louder in his chest as Sammy looks, tense and surprised, from Ben to Jack, before his shoulders relax and a reluctant smile appears.

“Have I been found out?” Sammy asks, wincing as if for impact. Ben lets him shut the door behind him before he bounds over to give his other best friend a tight, long, endless hug.

“Thank you,” Ben whispers, and Sammy’s arms shift for just a second before Sammy hugs back just as tightly.

“Don’t even mention it. Like, please don’t mention it,” Sammy says back, voice masking a laugh.

“I’ll miss you so much, too,” Ben says to Sammy’s shoulder and Sammy laughs fully this time.  

“Still got a little while for us to torture you with our various radio shows,” Sammy says, and surprisingly Ben is the one who starts to let go of the hug first. “We’ve got to give you something to take back to Washington with you.”

“You guys can always visit,” Ben tells them, feeling more than a little hopeful. “You’d really like it there. And my mom would really want to meet you. And you wouldn’t – you wouldn’t have to pretend. Even if it’s just for a visit, you wouldn’t have to pretend while you were there. You could just be you.”

Ben’s worried that he’s said something wrong, that he showcased just how little he understands what Sammy and Jack go through every day. But then Sammy’s face falls into one of helpless fondness as he turns to Jack, who nods with a biggest smile.

“That sounds….that sound great, Ben,” Sammy says, and it actually sounds like he means it. Authenticity from Sammy Stevens – Ben couldn’t be more proud. “Of course we’ll visit you. But you’ve got another six weeks stuck here with us, right?”

“Not stuck,” Ben shakes his head, resisting the urge to hug them both again. Ben can’t make them initiate a group hug at work. Good thing he’s gonna live with them, and will probably make that happen sometime in the near future. “Not stuck at all.”

Ben feels, for the first time, that King Falls isn’t the only home he has anymore.