Archive of Our Own ^beta

The door closes, and for once, he’s more than grateful to be home. Normally, he’s bouncing out of his skin, seizing any opportunity to escape – whether to the store for milk or to pick up a new case.

But after the last week, he wants nothing more than to curl up on the sofa with Phillip, and maybe watch a movie too.

Though, the thought of falling asleep in his warm bed, with his equally warm husband by his side, now that sounds delightful.

As he closes the door to the apartment, there are several things that he notices. The first is the news on the television, it’s all about Miles Bron and his idiocy.

Legacy? More like bullshit.

The second thing he notices is the lack of flour coating the counters. The apartment is, overall, surprisingly tidy and clean.

When Phillip finds a new hobby, the apartment quickly becomes overrun with the necessary tools and equipment. But the kitchen is surprisingly tidy, with no stray kitchen utensils beside the oven.

The third and final thing that he notices, is the most important thing.

It’s the way Phillip has pulled him into a tight embrace before he’s had the chance to drop his bags by the door, barely audible as he whispers, “Benny?” 

He lets out a quiet oof, his hand coming to rest on the shoulders of his partner. Distantly, he hears the news anchor talking away, “...the island exploded in the early hours of the morning. It is unknown how many people were on the island at the time. Miles Bron has been arrested for a range of charges, and the rescue efforts continue...”

Oh.

“I thought you were dead...” he barely hears the soft voice of his partner, buried against his chest. But he hears it.

“Oh darling... you know me, won’t be killed by a buffoon like him...” Benoit murmurs, letting his bag fall to the floor. He slowly strokes his hand down Phillip’s back, edging until they’re by the couch.

“You didn’t call... you didn’t email... nothing...” Phillip whispers, his voice shaky. Putting a few inches of space between them, Benoit can see the red rims of Phillip’s eyes, the dried tear stains.

“I’m sorry, darling... my phone got lost in the carnage. Tried to get to a phone but nowhere was available until I was back in the country. At that point, figured it was easier to just come home...” Benoit says, lightly stroking his thumb over Phillip’s cheek.

Phillip’s face crumples and he buries his head against Benoit’s chest again. The fear that he’d lost the love of his life, it’s shook his core.

It’s scared him in a way that he’ll never be able to explain to himself, nevermind to Benoit. There’s always some inherent fear, deep down, that it could be the final case.

Criminals are known for a lot worse, after all.

But... this is the closest he’s ever been to actually losing his partner. Seeing the explosion on the news after Benoit’s mother had called to ask about him, the lack of communication, Phillip’s ongoing struggle with loneliness, even for the few days that he was alone.

It culminated in this, here, and now.

“Come on darling...” Benoit murmurs. He strokes his fingers through the messy grey hair, and it makes sense why the apartment is so tidy – Phillip's overwhelming need to be doing something when he’s scared, but something so menial that he isn’t working his mind.

“I’m back now, and I ain’t going nowhere...” Benoit says, lightly kissing the messy grey hair. Nodding, Phillip hastily rubs his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath.

“I know... I know...” he mutters.

“Come on, let’s go to bed, darling. Everythin’ else can wait ‘til tomorrow...” Benoit says softly.

Smiling, Phillip nods and squeezes Ben’s hand, dragging him through to the bedroom. Benoit sits on the bed, easing his shoes off. His socks join them a moment later. The bed shifts slightly, and Phillip’s arms wind around his waist, lips leaving a gentle trail along his neck.

 His hands slide down to Benoit’s waist, taking the suspenders with them. His fingers deftly work at the clips, and a moment later the elastic is falling from the bed.

“I don’t want to hear about the case...” Phillip lets out a quiet sigh, “At least not tonight. Maybe tomorrow, if that’s okay love.”

“That’s fine, darling. I don’t want to think about the case tonight either...”

Phillip smiles slightly, resting his head on his lover’s shoulder. For a moment, he stops all movement. He stops unbuttoning the blue cotton shirt, he just cherishes the moment with his husband.

There’s something almost sweetly erotic to Phillip about undressing his husband, it completes him.

It heals him.

Shaky fingers continue at the buttons until he can part the cotton. He sits back slightly, guiding the cotton off of Benoit’s shoulders where it pools around his waist.

“Stand up, my love...” Phillip says, slowly walking towards the bed. He reaches out for his lover, his husband, his Benny.

And he stands up.

Phillip smiles lightly, winding his arms around the other man’s waist to pull him into a gentle embrace. The warmth of the other man lulls him into comfort, safety, and he doesn’t want to move.

The sooner they’re both undressed though, the sooner they can curl up together and Phillip can lull himself to sleep with the sound of his husband’s beating heart.

“Darlin’...” Benoit says softly. He strokes his fingers through Phillip’s hair again, lightly massaging his waist with his other hand.

“Let’s lay down, yeah? Been on the plane for that long has...” Benoit sighs, stretching his back slightly.

Phillip nods and, though reluctant, puts just enough distance between them so that he can focus on unbuckling Benoit’s belt. The button is popped, and the trousers go tumbling to the floor a moment later.

With a quiet groan, Benoit falls back onto the bed, watching as Phillip quickly strips off his own jeans and socks, placing all the clothes in the hamper.

With their clothes in the hamper, and the apartment securely locked up for the night, there’s nothing stopping Phillip from falling into the bed, snuggling up as close as he can to his husband.

Only a few hours ago, he thought this would never be possible again.

Here he is though, and he’s going to cherish this for as long as he possibly can. Settling closer, he winds his arm over Benoit’s waist, eventually settling his hand on the man’s ribcage. His head rests over Benoit’s heart, the repetitive thump-thump comforting him. His other hand is entwined with Benoit’s beneath the pillows.

“I love you, darlin’...” Benoit’s voice is quiet, as he pulls the duvet up to Phillip’s shoulders, tangling their legs together.

Phillip wants to look up, to gawp at his husband.

It’s so infrequent that Benoit says it, he’s half of mind to record it, for nights when he’s alone and longing for his husband.

He doesn’t do that though.

He doesn’t do anything really.

He does the only thing he knows to do and presses a gentle kiss to Benoit’s jaw.

“I love you too, Benny...”