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Larry is - as expected - the more perceptive of the pair, but there was no doubt that when it came to Larry himself, Ben had become particularly keen on how he hid his moods. So despite the writer’s jovial disposition for the day and his overall lack of complaining when filming was extended, Ben could tell he was anxious and stressed. For Ben, finding this wasn’t surprising, considering how Larry had begun to over-schedule (despite the older man’s discretion). The lines on his face were deeper and the smiles were weaker. Larry needed sleep; he needed to relax.
Ben’s feet crunched in the small amount of accumulated snow as he walked back from his car. Wise Elder Vex’s baggy shirt and velveteen pants weren’t very warm and seeing as he’d left his jacket in his dressing room, he stood no chance against the frigid winds. He slipped back into the studio silently, entering from the side with wardrobe rather than the set. Some of the crew members eyed him curiously as he weaved through them, muttering apologies as he headed for Larry’s dressing room. Of course - since the rooms are in alphabetical order - Larry’s is the furthest from the door besides his own.
When he did get to the door - nodding a sorry as he knocked over a man holding a puppet - Ben knocked twice, listening as someone scrambled on the other side. There was a clatter and some muttered curses and Ben nearly regretted his decision to come here before Larry opened the door. He looked confused and irritated upon first opening the door; Ben wished he’d brought his mobile so he could take a photo and cherish the soft expression that formed once Larry realised who’d knocked.
“Hi,” Ben said after a silent moment, noting how shaky his breath was (which he blamed solely on the fact that he was still getting acclimated to the warmth inside).
“Hi…” Larry echoed, looking behind himself briefly. “I would invite you in - get you out of the traffic - but…” He trailed off, gesturing to the mess behind him.
“Well, I wondered if you would want to come with me. Actually. For a moment.” He smiled sheepishly, “I have something I want to show you.”
“I’d love to - I really would - it’s just I have to finish this and two other scripts within two weeks and I- “ He looks conflicted, the older man notes.
“I get that.” Ben cuts him off. “But you’ll really enjoy this.” His eyes are almost pleading and something melts in Larry’s chest.
Larry looks back again, to the papers scattered over any surface you could imagine and awaiting laptop. “Yeah. Okay.” He nodded, turning to grab his dressing gown from the couch, “Where to?” He called over his shoulder, shifting over files.
“Urm…” Ben huffed a laugh to himself. “Don’t kill me, but, it’s outside.”
“Jesus, hell, mate.” Ben leaned into the room a bit to watch Larry who now turned to stare, disbelieving. The older man smiled apologetically. “It’s freezing out there.”
“Eh, yeah.” Ben assured. “I can attest to that.”
“All right.” Larry tied his dressing gown at his waist and on second thought also grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch.
“Here.” He said, shutting the door and tossing the blanket at Ben. “Wouldn’t want you catching pneumonia.”
“Yes, mum.” Ben balled the blanket in his arms, defiantly, though he knew he’d need it once they were back outside.
Larry mock-glared. “So, where are we going?”
With an enigmatic smile, Ben responds: “Somewhere. Outside.”
Smiling not without uncertainty, Larry followed Ben as they weaved back past the same disgruntled crew Ben had dealt with on his way in. When they arrived at it, Ben pushed the door open, letting the crisp air shoot its way back through his bones. Again, his thin clothes weren’t doing him any favours. Larry, at least, was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and joggers, though he still shivered slightly in the icy breeze as it blew through Ho-Tan’s hair (which he was still wearing). It wasn’t much farther, luckily. They’d walked towards the edge of the lot and as they rounded a final corner, in front of them spread an unused expanse of land. The ground was covered in a blanket of untouched white which twinkled in the dulling moonlight.
Larry was watching the snow intently and Ben chuckled, “Look up.”
It wasn’t a perfectly clear night, but you could still make out constellations in the sky. Each star, so close and yet so far away. If it was possible, Ben would have wanted to pluck one from the vast ether and hold it in his palm; watch it spark and flare. The widest, brightest smile Ben had seen from him in weeks split Larry’s face.
“If I wasn’t freezing my bollocks off, this would be even better.” Larry commented, making Ben laugh.
The older man was watching intently as the falling snow clung to Larry’s eyelashes and Ho-Tan’s neat hair as he watched the stars. It was a bit jarring when Ben’s mind supplied the word ‘beautiful’ . Everything was, he supposed, beautiful. The moon, the stars, the snow, even Larry. Ben’s knees shook slightly from the cold.
“I feel like this is the kind of thing Ho-Tan would like doing.” He looked at Ben now. “She’d probably doodle them in her notebook.”
“With intricate quill and ink.” Ben agreed, watching as their words curled into the wind as if they were running away to find warmth. “I think Vex seems more of the clouds kind of guy.”
Larry made a noise of agreement. “Yes, he - in his infinite wisdom - likely makes stories out of the shapes they form.”
There was silence for a moment - filled only by the wind whistling - and though they could only feel their fingers below the second joint, they were comfortable within the moment. Just us and the stars , Ben thought.
–
“When did things change?” Mat asked pensively, leaning around the corner of a loading truck while wrapping his puffer jacket tighter around his twig-like form, peeking around at Ben and Larry.
“What d’you mean?” Martha asked, a little less subtle about her peeping.
“Ben and Larry.” He elaborated, gesticulating briefly. “This dancing around one another… I mean there’s nothing wrong with it, I just can’t quite place when things became… deeper.”
Martha huffed out laughter. Being the only woman in a group of six friends, she liked to imagine she had a decent grasp on each of the men’s minds. Mat’s old soul and curious thinking had always fascinated her. She thinks he reminds her of a 19th-century poet.
“I dunno.” She shrugged, watching as Ben tilted his head back with laughter. “Maybe it’s always been this way.”
Mat gave a half-hearted head tilt, glancing over again. “Something just feels… closer, about them.”
“They’ve always been the needle for the other’s thread; perhaps the context’s all that’s changed.”
Mat hummed, summing up her point: “The love has evolved.” On an inhale, Mat turned, taking a few steps closer to Martha. “That or we’re wrong.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Martha thought for a moment, glancing over again. “Do you think they know?” It was a stupid question and Mat made sure to prove that by scoffing, which earned a glare from the woman.
–
Ben shivered for what had to be the fifth time in the past minute despite having given in and wrapping the blanket Larry’d given him around his shoulders. The younger man noticed with concern, how cold he must be. Self-preservation had never - in any capacity - been Ben’s priority. He worries about others before himself and however unhealthy that tendency is, it’s what he does.
“Shouldn’t we go in?” Larry offered, turning fully now to face his friend. “You’re freezing.” The moonlight reflected his eyes, making the blue shine impossibly brighter and Ben found himself rendered with the same thought as earlier. ‘Beautiful.’
“It’s okay; I’m okay.” He smiled, hopefully reassuring, and tried to keep his breath from shaking. If they went in, Larry would go back to work and this would all have been for nought. The younger man stared up, unsurity laced in his brow. He reached down, grabbing Ben’s hand and holding it in both of his. His fingers were reddened, like his nose and cheeks. Larry himself wasn’t particularly warm and still Ben’s hand felt like ice between his palms.
“We are going in, before you get hypothermia.” Larry asserted, “I can’t have you losing any limbs, you’re too attractive for that.”
Ben tried to protest as Larry started to drag him back the way they came. Stepping in front of Larry he tried to find an alternative. “Wait, wait, wait.” The shorter man raised his eyebrows. “If we go in, will you come to my dressing room.”
Larry smirked. “It’s been a lovely date but are you sure it’s not too early to go back to yours?” Ben rolled his eyes fondly.
“Please.”
“Sure. But not for long, I have a lot of writing still to do.”
The older man grinned brightly. “Only for a moment.”
As they headed back towards the studio Ben noticed footprints besides their own but decided to think nothing of it. The wind was picking up so he thought, perhaps, Larry was right.
A while later, they arrived back in Ben’s dressing room. The warmth was still burning itself into the older man’s bones as Larry tossed his dressing gown over a dilapidated chair and plopped himself on the creme, suede sofa. As the younger man surveyed the cramped space, Ben couldn’t help but smile.
“You know, this reminds me of the first time I stayed in a dressing room of yours.” Larry commented conversationally as Ben settled beside him. They had been in each other’s dressing rooms many times since ‘the first time’ so the older man, himself, certainly didn’t remember anything particular about that day.
“How so?” Ben stared quizzically at Larry's profile, while he continued to examine each bit of the small space.
The younger man’s smile widened, “Seeing it all. It’s so unintentionally perfect.” He turned his head to meet Ben’s eyes. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitance as he uttered the continuation of that comment; they were sure words. Larry spoke calmly; matter-of-factly: “Like you.”
Something undefined fluttered in Ben’s chest. Fondness, perhaps. Before he could retort, however, Larry pressed on, glancing away. “Thank you for …that, by the way. It was beautiful.”
“It was.” Ben agreed quietly.
Larry yawned, stretching slightly before leaning his temple against Ben’s shoulder. “I feel like I haven’t slept in forever.” Forever, in the least.
“Maybe you should get some rest?” Ben offered.
The younger man’s response was drowsy: “I have work to do, and I don’t want to go, yet.”
“I didn’t say you had to.” And I really wish you wouldn’t .
Larry adjusted his head on Ben’s shoulder and the older man did hesitate before suggesting the alternative. “It may be more comfortable if you lay your head in my lap.” The younger man lifted himself to smile at his friend endearingly before rotating his position to rest his head on Ben’s thigh, the reddish-brown strands of Ho-Tan’s hair draped across Vex’s velveteen trousers. Each of Ben’s hands found a place, one warily across Larry’s chest and the other by his head, as if steadying him. It was odd. Companionable intimacy that even friends - such as themselves - with little privacy didn’t experience often. However, it wasn’t unwelcome, both men found.
Ben stared down at him softly, eyebrows raised slightly. ‘Thank you ’ his friend mouthed, the corners of his mouth turning up gently as sleep took over. And as Larry lay in his lap, getting the first semblance of sleep he’d allowed himself in a couple of days, Ben found himself thinking for the third time that night about just how beautiful he is.
Until Martha came knocking at the door to remind Ben of the next scene, they lay like that. For a moment, there was nothing else in the world that mattered. Perhaps that’s a thought reserved for non-platonic relationships, but Ben found it most fitting.