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“Do we have an anniversary?”
Ben turned his head from his contemplation of the fire to look at Jed, who was frowning down at his beer bottle. “An anniversary of what?”
Jed’s frown deepened. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”
“I don’t understand.”
Jed huffed out a breath and it clouded in the air. It was the middle of February and they were having their first night outside in weeks after a particularly brutal cold snap had finally given way to a still cold but more manageable temperature. Ben had expected more exhilaration from Jed, not him morosely picking at his beer's label with his fingernails.
“Couples have anniversaries to celebrate, like, relationship milestones, I guess? Married couples have one for when they got married, obviously, but when you’re not, it’s usually when you first officially started dating, but we just kind of …” Jed flapped his free hand around in a helpless gesture.
“Fell into a serious relationship?” Kaleb had described it that way once and Ben had liked it, even though from tone and context Ben was relatively certain that Kaleb had meant it as an insult.
“Basically. There’s no first date or day we decided to be exclusive or anything.”
“We had a first date,” Ben objected. Jed had eventually explained the concept of dating to him after they’d been on the road for almost two months, and Ben, realizing he’d been deficient as a romantic partner, had taken Jed out for dinner and a movie the very next night, which his internet phone had assured him was the ‘classic first date.’ Jed had seemed happy with it at the time, smiling shyly and holding Ben’s hand at every available opportunity.
He smiled again now, a break from whatever melancholy he had fallen into. “It was an awesome first date, but we were already living together. I don’t think it counts as far as anniversary stuff goes. And the first time we had sex was also the day Ethan died, so I don’t really want that to be our anniversary either.”
“That’s reasonable. What about the first time we kissed?”
“Um.” Jed winced guiltily. “I’m not sure what day that was. There was a lot happening and, uh … the clown venom made me kinda spacey.”
“Oh yes, the clown venom,” Ben said with a smirk. When they’d stopped kissing, which had lasted long enough that he’d backed Jed all the way up into the nearest tree, Jed had blinked, smiled dopily, and said something about how pretty Ben’s eyes were in the moonlight. Then he’d dropped his head on Ben’s shoulder and groaned, and as nice as all of that was, he’d decided it was probably best to stop and take Jed back inside, just in case. He was fairly confident no clown venom aftereffects had actually been involved, because he hadn’t seen anyone else suffering any ill effects, but it was what Jed had claimed after Ben sat down at their breakfast table and Jed had stammered and poured himself a cup of maple syrup instead of coffee. But since Ben had snapped off part of his chair when he pulled it out to sit down, he’d let the excuse stand.
“It did,” Jed insisted.
“I’m sure.” Before they got too far off topic, and before Jed got more put out, he asked “Is it important that we have an anniversary?”
Jed shrugged half-heartedly, his face forlorn. “It’s just … I’ve never had one before. Never got serious enough or lasted anywhere near long enough. Would’ve been nice.” He shrugged again with a little sigh. “I guess we won’t have one. At least not until …” He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. “Never mind.”
Ben leaned forward, intrigued. “Until what, Jed?”
“Nothing. I’m gonna get some leftover pizza, you want any?” As he stood up, Jed knocked over his chair and almost dropped his beer in the campfire. “I’m fine!” he claimed loudly before Ben could ask, and started for the RV.
“Is it the clown venom again?”
His love didn’t say anything else, just threw a glare over his shoulder before banging the RV door closed.
Laughing under his breath, Ben turned back to contemplate the fire. All of these modern things like first dates and anniversaries were uncertain territory for him, things he didn’t always understand and worried he might not do correctly. He certainly seemed to do most of them out of order. But if this was something Jed wanted, it was something he could do for him.
Because he remembered the date of their first kiss. He remembered everything when it came to Jed.
He remembered the sting of Jed’s truth tea revelations, and how he couldn’t help but make things a little more difficult on him once he realized the true motivation behind them. He remembered Jed trying to stop him from chaining himself up for the monster and mellowing in the face of his concern, and trying to let Jed know that he was open to his advances.
He remembered the fear of seeing Jed get hurt, and the unease and loneliness of waking up to find him already gone.
Then he’d found him by the Old Mill, tear tracks clear on his face. He’d listened to Jed’s story, as Jed had done for him, and assured him that he hadn’t done anything wrong, because if there was anything in this world he understood, it was the curse of a cruel, violent father.
What he hadn’t expected was for a calm to come over Jed, or for him to step closer.
“But I know now.”
Ben had thought any chance of them having a conversation about what was between them was gone for the night. Not that he minded, being able to see this side of Jed and to support him in a vulnerable time was worth far more, but it had seemed like their discussion would have to wait.
So it threw him when Jed declared, “I’m ready to let go of the person my father wanted me to be.”
He seemed so certain, so determined, like he’d gained strength from his confession. Ben swallowed at the unexpected feelings it provoked in him. Was he … nervous? When was the last time he’d been nervous with a man?
“That’s why I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Ever since you told me your story. To tell you that … I know how you feel. To tell you how I feel.”
“It’s alright,” Ben managed, truly meaning it even as his gaze fell inexorably to Jed’s mouth, “… if you’re not … ready …”
Jed was ready, it seemed. Ben hadn’t been. Because he’d know he was attracted to Jed, had even known he was developing strong feelings for him. What he wasn’t prepared for, as Jed pressed lips that were cold from being outside too long and trembling a little to his own, was the feeling of it to run through his body like a jolt. For his hand to grab the back of Jed’s neck immediately, because he needed Jed as close as possible, or the satisfaction when Jed’s hands on his hips attempted to pull him closer still. He was unprepared for the realization, as he opened his mouth for Jed, kissed him like he was starving for it, that he’d somehow found someone he would burn the world down for again.
He had yet to find the limit of things he would do for Jed.
That was definitely a moment worth commemorating. This time, however, he would be the one to surprise Jed.
*
A few weeks after that conversation, Ben called Professor Vardemus to make sure he kept Jed busy with research all day. He dropped Jed off at the library in the truck they’d rented to get around town easier and then spent most of the intermediate seven hours preparing.
Tired but proud of his accomplishments, he’d gone to pick up Jed and while he thought he’d kept his excitement in check, he could see Jed eyeing him curiously as they pulled up to the campgrounds. He parked and took large strides around the truck to open Jed’s door for him. “I have something to show you.”
He held out a hand to help Jed out and he took it, his face scrunched up in confusion. “O-kayyy …”
Ben pulled him to the other side of the RV, then held out an arm in presentation.
The picnic table that they’d parked the RV next to was covered in flowers. Ben had looked up what to get one's partner for an anniversary and had stumbled onto a website that had catalogued the symbolic meaning of flowers. It was a fascinating read and armed with all of that new information, when he ordered from the florist he couldn’t stop himself from getting a garden full. There were gladiolus (courage, honor, integrity) next to alstroemeria (loyalty, devotion), red roses (romantic love) and red tulips (perfect love), and long sunflowers (adoration, longevity) towering above the rest. He’d gone to a local thrift shop and gotten as many vases as he could to contain them all. By a stroke of luck they were all glass, but they were in a variety of shapes and sizes, making an uneven spectacle, only made somewhat aesthetically pleasing by the overwhelming number of flowers they contained.
Jed looked over the array, his eyes wide, and said nothing for so long that Ben’s enthusiasm started to ebb. “Did I get the tradition wrong?”
“No,” Jed said, voice rough. “No, this is … I mean, no one’s ever given me flowers before, so this is, like, a big step up. But it’s good. It's kind of amazing, actually.” Then he noticed the chocolates, peanut butter truffles, at the end of the table and pointed excitedly. “You got me candy!”
“I made them.”
For the second time, Jed’s eyes grew wide. “You made me candy? Seriously?”
“My internet search told me that flowers and chocolate are appropriate for an anniversary.”
Jed’s eyebrows dipped in confusion. “Anniversary?”
“Yes. A year ago today we had our first kiss.”
“Wait, you know what day it was?”
Ben chuckled at the disgruntled look on his boyfriend’s face. “I’m a demigod, Jed, my memory stretches back millennia. Of course I know.”
“You should’ve told me, I would’ve done something for you, too.”
“No. This was something I wanted to give to you.”
“That’s not how anniversaries work. I’m pretty sure.”
“It’s our anniversary, I think it can work however we’d like. And I,” he said with a smile, pulling Jed in by his jacket, his eyes dropping to Jed’s lips, “would like to give you this. If that’s alright with you.”
“I guess I can live with it,” Jed said magnanimously, leaning in.
“That was the first night I knew that I loved you.” Ben took a sharp breath in, surprised at his own confession.
Jed stopped short, pulling his head back a little, smiling softly. “Really?”
“Really. I knew I was interested in you as soon as I saw you,” he admitted, running his thumb gently along Jed’s jawline, “but I didn’t know how deep my feelings were until then. Or possibly that’s when I fell in love with you. Everything happened so quickly. I don’t know when things changed for me, only when I knew that they had.”
“Trust me, I know the feeling.” Jed’s smile turned self-satisfied. “Wow, I’m an awesome kisser, huh?”
Ben shook his head fondly. “I’m going to regret telling you that, aren’t I?”
“I’m just saying, it took like two weeks and one kiss and bam, I had you.”
“As if it wasn’t the same for you, or do you not remember your comment about my eyes?”
“It was the clown venom!” At Ben’s disbelieving look he relented. “Fine. You might’ve had me after one kiss, too.”
“Mm-hmm, I never would've guessed,” he said with a hint of cockiness, but of course he’d already known. They’d always been on the same page, after all.
This time, he kissed Jed. It sent the same rush through him as the first time.