Work Text:
FROM: Bev Marsh <3
hey bennie do you want to do anything for pride?
it doesn’t have to be public obv <3
TO: Bev Marsh <3
Like what?
FROM: Bev Marsh <3
maybe like a fun dinner?
at one of our places
so you can dress however you want!!! :)
DIAL Bev Marsh <3 ?
YES — NO
RINGING…
Bev’s voice is amused when she picks up the phone. “Hi, my darling.”
“Beverly Marsh, did you know that you’re the love of my life?”
She huffs out a laugh. “Bennie Hanscom, did you know that you’re the love of my life?”
Bennie grins down at their feet, watching their toes wiggle in their socks on the carpeted floor.
“Maybe, but it never gets old.”
Bev hums in agreement, and the warmth in the sound soothes something deep in Ben’s heart.
“So, I — yeah. Dinner, definitely. On Friday? At my house, maybe?”
“Sounds good to me, honey.” Ben can feel their nose scrunching with happiness. God, Bev’s pet names always make them all melty inside. “I’ll bring meal supplies — I already know what kinds of foods you like, I’ll surprise you — and you pick up some wine?”
Bennie’s cheeks darken just a little bit more. Something in them wiggles at the thought that Bev knows them so well, and it takes a second for Ben to shove the feeling down before they can reply, “Y-yeah, sounds good.”
“Sounds good,” she repeats, so soft.
Ben takes a second to let their toes squirm, then clears their throat. “Anyways — I, uh. Just wanted to thank you for being so willing to-” but the word gets stuck on their tongue.
“To?”
“Compromise, I guess.”
“Honey…” and she doesn’t quite sigh but that’s certainly a purposeful breath, “Well, first of all, I’m also marching at Pride, which we’ve talked about before, so I’m not actually compromising on anything. And, number two — my love for you is not a compromise, Bennie. You not being out is not a compromise for me. Is it an adjustment? Of course. But life is full of adjustments, and who am I to say that I love you if I won’t adjust for you?”
Ben’s lips tremble, just a little bit. “Oh.”
“Oh, Bennie, sweetheart…” and Bennie has to giggle, just a little bit, because Bev always knows when they start crying.
“No, no, I’m fine, I swear,” they rush to reassure her, smiling even as they wipe their cheeks, “happy tears, I promise, I just.” They hiccup and Bev laughs softly, hushed, so as not to break the spell. “I try to adjust to you too, you know that?
Bev starts crying too, just a little bit. “Oh, well-I. Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
Ben sniffles. “Ugh, god,” they say, looking around for some tissues. “Look at the two of us, honestly.”
Bev laughs, her voice not sounding even a little gross. Bev is a very pretty crier, so you can only really tell she’s cried by having been there when the tears fell. When she gets angry, though, her face goes — “Just two gay bitches crying over the phone,” she says, and Bev snorts loudly.
“Just the two of us…” they start to warble into the phone, and Bev’s exaggerated yells of excitement make Ben feel warm down to the very core.
“Encore! Encore!” she manages to get out through laughter.
“O-kay, Bev, I’m hanging up now.”
She quiets down. Ben can still hear the grin on her face, though, and it feels like sunshine. “Okay, okay, I’m done. I love you sweetheart, I’ll see you on Friday, okay?”
Ben wants to protest, wants to say but it’s only Monday, wants to say, c ome over now, wants to say, never leave, doesn’t. They say, “I’ll see you on Friday. I love you-”
“Okay, bye, I love you-”
“Bye, sweet-” and the click lands, and Ben finishes, “-heart,” smiling wide.
Bev always hangs up in the middle of their sentences, like a little smacking kiss on the cheek. They used to find it irritating, but now it just brings a smile to their face.
Friday.
God, what are they going to wear?