Archive of Our Own ^beta

On the ranking of Ethan’s least favourite things to do, debriefings were pretty much up there. It was not as if they were highly effective: the whole point of Ethan and his team was to do the unexpected in order to complete the mission.

Usually, about twenty minutes in, this would become apparent with yet another compilation of the times Ethan decided to test his luck. Brandt was usually the one to start pestering him about it, carefully laying out the times that Ethan should have at least gotten severely injured.

This time, it wasn’t much different.

“So you had to frisbee this grenade out of the building, even when you didn’t know how much time was left before detonation?”

Luther dared to smirk a little as he met his gaze, but it was only because he’d worked with Ethan the longest out of everyone. Brandt might as well have asked him for the reasons behind Ethan’s selflessness, because his reasons hadn’t changed since he worked with Luther all those years ago. “It saved people.”

Across from him he saw Benji shift a little in his seat, the tablet with the details of the mission balancing on his thighs. The man was looking back and forth between Brandt and Ethan, face scrunched up in just the slightest bit of discomfort. He was still the freshest in the field of the agents, and any discussion of danger seemed to result in a conflicted mixture of emotions on the Englishman’s face.

“There’s more,” Brandt continued, not letting it go quite yet. He tapped Benji’s shoulder. “Pull up the video footage from camera 2.1,” he said. The technician sighed, leaning just the slightest bit away from Brandt as his fingers moved across the touchscreen.

The big screen in the debriefing room morphed into a grainy feed. It was a camera on the second floor of the old warehouse. There was nothing visible, except a spider web that dangled slowly on the side of the camera. Ethan noticed that Benji shot Brandt a questioning look.

“Just wait for a second,” Brandt said. He tapped the screen briefly, but before he could do anything Benji pulled it away from him.

“Don’t meddle with my tech,” Benji murmured. Ethan smiled just slightly to himself. He recalled the times where he had offered to help Benji out with anything technological – he had been allowed to do it once, but only under very careful supervision. If ‘doing one thing before Benji took over himself’ could be considered supervision, that is. It was a miracle that he’d allow Jane to put in the world saving drives those years ago. Maybe that was the type of near-death scenario that allowed anyone near Benji’s territory

He was snapped from his thoughts when Brandt exclaimed a soft ‘bingo’. He saw his own figure appear on the feed, the flashes of gunfire visible even in the low quality. The moment he saw Benji on screen, he knew the exact moment he was referring to.

Benji had gotten into trouble on the third floor, which prompted Ethan to (against mission guidelines) ask him to come down to the second floor where it had been declared safe. The second floor had been clear from hostiles, but when Benji made his way to his floor he’d clearly been shadowed. The moment one of the pursuers had nearly shot Benji in the back Ethan had pushed him aside. The original plan was essentially a clean in and out, with maybe one or two casualties top.

“You injured ten men,” Brandt stated.

Benji looked to his side, then at Ethan. It appeared he was considering whether it was worth speaking up.

Ethan held eye contact with Benji as he replied. “I did.”

“Ethan,” Brandt exhaled, “what the fuck.”

“Benji-,” Ethan started. He was still looking at the younger agent, but their moment of eye contact had been broken by the other participant. Benji was looking down, busying himself with the touchscreen as if it was suddenly the most important thing in the room.

“Agent Dunn was not supposed to be there,” Brandt snapped. He didn’t even look at Benji, instead directing his annoyance fully at Ethan.

The tension felt heavy in the air, not too dissimilar to earlier moments where the two had one of their regular stand offs. Luther played with a pen. Benji continued whatever he was doing. Jane was rolling her eyes in a way that only women in the presence of this much testosterone could do. Nothing about it was unusual, right until the stare down got interrupted by a piercing ringing sound.

“Oh, bollocks,” Benji sat upright in his chair, tablet nearly falling out of his lap. He reached out to grab it, tips of his ears already turning red. “I’m sorry, I’m using my personal tablet. I-“

Brandt’s attention snapped to the man, and for a moment Ethan was afraid he’d get a scolding for not using encrypted hardware. Though, honestly, Ethan had little doubt that Benji didn’t actually encrypt all of his private tech for the sake of it. Then the man’s face brightened up in a wolfish grin. Ethan wasn’t sure whether he preferred that look on Brandt’s face.

“Who’s the lady?” Brandt asked, reaching out to the tablet.

Benji shielded the device with his body, which gave Ethan a short break to glance at the large screen that was attached to the tablet.

Where it previously had just been a grey, blurry mess, it now showed a pop-up. The caller ID read ‘Libbie :)’, which wasn’t too overly shocking to Ethan. No, the thing that made his breath hitch for just a second was the picture attached. On the big screen it was easy to make out the profile picture of the caller, which was a photo of Benji and a smaller women clinging to each other on a windy beach. Their smiles were pixelated but despite that bright and full of life. The smaller, blonde, women fit in nicely under Benji’s chin. It was clear, even from that single frame, that the two were incredibly comfortable and – well… happy.

The ringing ended. Ethan’s focus moved back to Benji, who had now uncurled a bit and ended the call.

“Sorry for the, err, int- interruption,” Benji said, the embarrassment painting a rosy colour on his cheeks as well now. He cleared his throat, sitting back upright as he changed the image on the larger screen. “Let’s contin-,” he tried to say, but before he could finish his sentence he was tackled by Brandt.

“Brandt,” Ethan said warningly. The man has a death wish, he thought to himself as he watched Brandt grab the tablet. His attempt at stopping Brandt was half-hearted though, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Right, how does this work,” Brandt said as he dodged Benji’s attempts at collecting his device back. He moved with a surprising amount of grace, something which Benji didn’t seem to possess as he dived to snatch it.

“Hi B!,” Brandt said in a mockingly feminine tone, “Can’t wait to see you again, it’ll be fun.”

Benji groaned, aborting his attempts at snatching it from Brandt.

“Just like old times, ey,” Brandt continued. “Damn Benji, there’s a lot of kisses in this conversation.”

“It’s a British thing,” Benji mumbled, suddenly looking very much like a kid in high school who got his lunch snatched. He was slumped in his chair now, the displeasure clearly visible on his face.

Ethan tossed a pen in the direction of Brandt’s head. “Enough,” he said sternly.

“Okay, okay,” Brandt admitted, “no need to threaten violence.” He handed it back to Benji reluctantly. Benji seemed relieved, but the lines of his body were still way more tense than Ethan would’ve liked.

“Now could we please continue,” Benji said with a clipped voice, “I have to get home to clean my apartment.”

--

Ethan managed to corner Benji just before he left the building. The cold breeze of the doors opening and closing further down the hallway made him realize he was still in just a T-shirt, while Benji had already dressed up to leave. The thick anthracite coat looked warm and comfortable, with just the slightest accent of a red soft woollen scarf.

It might’ve been freezing even in the hallway just near the exit, but seeing Benji this warm and comfortable made the cold irrelevant to him.

“Hey, Ethan,” Benji said softly. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, but his eyes seemed tired still from their latest mission. He wanted to go home as much as anyone on their team probably wanted.

“Hi,” Ethan said, swallowing briefly to wet the sandpaper in his throat. “I, uh… I’m sorry for Brandt.”

Benji released a short laugh at that, baring the teeth on the left side of his face with a half-smile. His eyes lit up for a moment, as if someone had plugged back the battery of Benji’s energy that seemed to be infinite at times at any other day than today.

“Be careful,” Benji said, voice light, “once you start apologizing for Brandt’s behaviour, you might never stop.”

Ethan allowed himself to chuckle, but the odd weight in his belly rendered him unable to make it sound as genuine as he wanted it to be. He reached out awkwardly, fingertips grazing Benji’s shoulder before pulling back.

Benji’s jittery energy stilled, the corners of his mouth dropping. He didn’t quite close it though, one half of his mouth now open in a bit of confusion.

Ethan was about to say something to try and revisit the moment that just passed, but he was interrupted with a low buzzing sound. Benji reached in his coat pocket, pulling out his phone.

If asked, Ethan would swear that he did not steal a glance at the screen when it flashed on briefly. He respected his team and all of that. However, it was hard not to give in into ones instinct. And well, it definitely was instinct that made him read the message that popped up.

Love you, B xx

It was hard to swallow down the acid that he suddenly felt creeping up.

It might’ve been even harder to smile as gentle as he could as he wished Benji a good night and turned around.

----
Two days later, Ethan found Benji standing across from Jane. He was holding up a tie, eyebrows raised questioningly before he noticed Ethan. His face was inviting and open before Benji steadied himself into a more neutral expression. “I uh, hi Ethan.”

Jane acknowledged Ethan with a quick nod, but seemed rather preoccupied.

“I think you should ditch the tie,” she said. Her hands were resting on her hips, one cocked out slightly in a confident pose. She pursed her lips a little as she looked at Benji.

The man dropped the tie on the table, sighing in defeat. “I don’t know how a proper senior software developer dresses.”

Ethan furrowed his brow. “A senior software developer?”

“I can’t just tell Libbie that I’m a bloody agent for some American top secret organization,” Benji supplied. “It’d be like telling her I’m the next James Bond.”

Jane laughed, “I think you’d make a great James Bond.”

Benji’s nose crinkled a bit as he shook his head. “She’d rather have Idris Elba.”

The woman across from him considered it, then nodded with a noise of agreement.

Ethan pictured Benji in a similar tux to the one in Vienna, cut just right to compliment the angles of his body and the slight curve of his ass. Then he drifted a bit further, picturing Benji with a Bond-like confidence as he leaned invitingly against a classic Aston Martin.

“Benji looks fine in a -,” Ethan started, then recovered himself before finishing the sentence. “I meant to say: Benji, you’ll look fine. Fine.”

Jane gave him an odd look, but Benji only seemed to be relieved. “Thanks Ethan,” he said, smiling openly. Ethan couldn’t help it: he smiled back.

---

“Agent Hunt?” A voice called out.

To say that Ethan sat at his desk would be an overstatement. He was positioned near it, feet resting on another chair as he read through the instructions manual for a new prototype. Admittedly, it wasn’t very interesting, but it was preferable to other responsibilities he had at the moment. Which might include the paperwork of the last mission that he still wasn’t ready for.

He was the first to say that he might have handled a bit out of the ordinary. A smidge. Nothing much. He recalled the adrenaline spike that had cancelled out fear from rising up as he noticed the shimmer of gun metal pointed in the direction of Benji. It made place for a flood of relief as he noticed that the warm body was still very much alive when he’d pushed the younger agent into a safer nook. A quick glance in the near-darkness had not shown any signs of blood, but despite that Ethan mentally changed the guidelines to ‘shoot to kill’.

Benji, who would later argue that he didn’t need saving, stubbornly followed Ethan when he moved out of their little hideaway.

Usually the soft breaths behind him and the sounds of fabric would be something he tuned into as long as they belonged to the object of his questionable affections, but this time the presence behind him only heightened his awareness of their surroundings. He shot before Benji’s hand could even twitch on the gun, making sure that no threat could attempt to do further harm.

They were out in no time, only having the time for a quick overly platonic side-hug before Brandt started yelling in their in-ears. It was definitely a mood killer and, arguably, a bigger threat than anything in the warehouse had been.

“Sir?” the voice interjected.

Ethan glanced up, flashing a brief apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Agent Hunt,” the woman (Ethan would argue that she was still a girl, but he didn’t want to be disrespectful) repeated, “I was informed that you could provide me with some insights into our latest prototype.”

He hummed in reply. Casting his eyes downwards to the instruction manual, he figured it would most certainly prove to be a better distraction. “Lead the way,” he said casually, pointing with the rolled up manual before he put it down on his desk.

The walk lead by Benji’s desk, which wasn’t that far from Ethan’s to begin with – but thankfully out of sight. It was down the hallway, close enough to the IMF and field agents for them to bother Benji, but also close enough to provide the new technicians with insights. Ethan knew Benji hated the location. He’d always claim it was ‘too busy’. Ethan didn’t want to admit that most of the traffic had come from him, himself.

To no one’s surprise Benji was idling at his desk, a phone at his ear in one hand. The other hand was preoccupied with drawing moustaches on the front page of a newspaper. He nodded as he was listening, then leaned back as things seemed to get more interesting.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Benji said. Pen still in his hand, he stretched lazily. Ethan’s eyes traced the movement from Benji’s scrunched up eyes to the way his body angled slightly to the left, making the right side of his belly show just a little.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Benji spoke up again, blinking softly before shaking his head to wake himself up even more. “Really, it’s okay, I’ve got enough space in my apartment for the two of us.”

Ethan knew the woman was talking to him, but he tuned her out as he eavesdropped some more.

He noticed Benji readjust his shirt again, tucking the very bit that had riled up earlier back into his dress pants. For a moment he held the phone between his ear and his shoulder, glancing down quickly as he smoothed out the fabric.

“Gotta work now,” Benji said as he returned to his previous art project. “Yeah, yeah, love you too.” Benji said, pursing his mouth a bit as he looked at the picture of the sweet grandma who had baked cookies for charity. Now with a large, blue Italian-style moustache.

Ethan’s brain was at a crossroads. On one hand he considered Benji’s doodling and well – everything quite adorable, but on the other hand the easy way in which he said ‘love you’ made him feel conflicted.

He hadn’t noticed he’d stopped walking until the woman prodded him gently.

“Sorry, sir,” she said in an overly polite way. “They’re waiting.”

Ethan swallowed.

“Yeah,” he said. He wanted to add something more, but his physical form had answered enough. He followed her down the hallway, stealing just one final small glance at Benji.

--

If you squinted a little, Ethan Hunt might have appeared to have completely forgotten about Benji having some strange woman over within the next couple of days. He had finished the pile of files that had showed up on his desk, which allowed him now to focus more on whatever he usually did when they weren’t on a mission. If that mainly involved checking up on Benji and providing the man with coffee (which he had deemed preferable to the sorry excuse of tea Ethan had offered him once), nobody cared.

“What are you working on?” Ethan asked as a matter of introduction. Across from him Benji hissed, sticking the index finger in his mouth with a soft whine.

“Ethan,” Benji groaned, only now removing the index finger to inspect the red streak of the soldering iron. Ethan’s gaze followed the movement despite himself. “You,” the younger man said accusingly, pointing at him with the index finger on his other hand, “need something like a cat bell. Anything. You’re too… ninja-ey.”

Ethan snorted, a sound foreign to him in any conversation that did not include the Brit. With Benji though, he had gotten quite used to making the unusual sound.

“Maybe I’m not the problem,” he pondered.

“Oh, no, no. I’m paying attention. You can’t blame me for being focused, nu-uh.” Benji turned off the iron, packing some stuff together. “Anyway, to answer your earlier question: I’m not working on anything particular, really.”

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up just a little. “There’s no need to be humble.”

“I’m not! I’m just noodling around with hardware.” Benji gestured at the row of screens that framed his desk. “People always think I’m playing games when I’m doing actual software stuff, would you believe that?”

It was too easy, but Ethan couldn’t help but go for the easy nagging. “It’s not so wild of an accusation when there’s evidence to support it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Benji said dismissively. “It’s not like it matters much, I’m off for the next week and a half anyway.”

He wasn’t sure if his mouth did the cartoon ‘O’ thing, but he must’ve looked comically perplexed by that. “You are?” Ethan asked, voice going up just a tad higher than usual at the end of the sentence.

“Hunley cleared it,” Benji explained. “I’ll be there if another nuclear bomb heads in our direction, don’t worry.”

Not much comforted by that, Ethan decided to press on a bit further. “Are you going on holiday?”

“Nope, I’m the hotel this time. Not that the Dunn residence is exactly a five star hotel,” Benji joked, but there was a hint of embarrassment below the surface. “I’ve even put up a Christmas tree already, even when it’s still a month away. It’s sort of like our version of doing Christmas together, y’know –“ Benji’s pitch shifted, “d’you know how fucking pricy flights are for the holidays?”

Ethan blinked.

Benji seemed to take his silence as an answer, as he continued without being fazed. “I’m not a big fan of Christmas anyway. Not since I moved to America, at least, but she wants to celebrate it, so I don’t really have a choice.”

“So you’re… celebrating Christmas with…” Ethan broke off the sentence, stopping himself just in time from showing that he’d memorized the name on the Caller ID a little too well.

“With Libbie, yeah.”

“You’re celebrating Christmas with Libbie in the first week of December,” Ethan repeated slowly.

Benji laughed. “I know, it’s ridiculous. The John Lewis ad for this year is barely out yet!”

Assuming it’s something British that would make sense to people from that particular landmass, he didn’t press on any further on Benji’s joke. The corners of his mouth curled up a little, if only because Benji had laughed as he said it. “Right.”

Benji looked at him, mouth opening as if he wanted to add more to the flood of words. He decided against it though, instead continuing to pack the remainders of his project together. Ethan merely observed. Benji might not always be the most graceful, but he was precise and efficient when he was working with familiar territory. The screwdrivers and pliers went together in a worn leather case. Leftovers of cables where unceremoniously dropped into a box that included bits and pieces of cable in all colours of the spectrum. The box appeared chaotic, but the fact that Benji had one in the first place indicated a certain level of care.

The silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Ethan felt a pressure to say something at the very least.

“So what’s Christmas like at the Dunn household?” He asked.

Benji rolled his eyes a little at the term ‘household’, but it seemed to be in good nature. “Usually? A couple days off and turning on the heating – Virginia’s insanely cold sometimes.”
He closed the box and lifted it to check whether he’d forgotten to clear anything from his desk. He then put his project, the soldering iron and the leather case on top of it. Once he’d gotten everything ready he stood up, looking at Ethan across from him.

“I feel like I’m terribly underprepared,” Benji mumbled.

Ethan raised a brow. “Underprepared?”

“For Christmas,” Benji clarified.

“Oh,” Ethan shifted his weight, putting one hand on the desk to nonchalantly hold some of his weight. “Well, let’s do a check list.”

Benji scoffed. “You, going by a check list?”

Ethan feigned innocence. “Tree?” he simply asked.

Benji nodded. “Yeah, got it.”

“Food?”

“Sufficient amounts to last in the cold climate,” Benji answered.

“Lots of lights?” Ethan supplied.

Benji paused. “Err,” he seemed to consider it, “put a quantity to ‘lots’.”

“At least two.”

“Wow,” Benji said, “I’m sure I have at least two, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Ethan grinned. His mind drifted off to the territory of countless bad Christmas flicks, which dragged a slightly unwanted thought to the foreground. His smile dropped a little, but before Benji could take too much notice of it he plastered on a fake sibling of his earlier smile. “How about mistletoe?”

If anything, he could be the supportive friend to Benji’s dating life.

Benji’s face flushed and he choked out a sound. The contents on top of the box suddenly needed to be rearranged. “I, uh.. Yeah,” Ethan leaned in a bit more, but even the smile on his face froze and dropped. “She’s been trying, but n-no.” Benji lifted the box, holding the underside together with one of his arms. “I’ve gotta go.”

The soldering iron on top of the other contents slid to the side. It nearly dropped to the floor, but Ethan managed to grab it before it went over the edge.

“Careful!” Benji shouted, as if he weren’t the one who almost dropped it in the first place. “It’s still a bit hot,” he added, more quietly.

Ethan held it up, then eyed the pile of stuff on top of the box suspiciously. “It’s okay, I’ll just walk with you.”

Benji seemed to want to protest, but he gave up before he could even utter a single syllable of stubbornness. “Fine, if you want to be chivalrous.”

Ethan patiently stood there with the single soldering iron in his hand as Benji walked off to grab his coat. Once he returned, Benji glanced at him questioningly. “You’re not going to wear a coat?” He himself was layered up, the scarf hanging untied around his neck.

Ethan shook his head. The plaid and tank top under it weren’t necessarily the warmest, but it was a short walk anyway. “No use getting a jacket.” He shrugged.

The walk to the car was mostly silent, if it weren’t for the constant annoyed murmuring under Benji’s breath. There was a thin layer of snow in the parking lot, but it was apparently enough to bother the Brit. “Bleedin’ wind,” he murmured.

“It’s only November,” Ethan tried to reassure him.

Benji did a quick sideways glance. “That’s the exact problem I have with it.”

The short conversation did seem to have put a lid on the complaining though, as they walked the rest down the parking lot without too much sound coming from the taller man.

They were only a couple feet away from Benji’s silver Ford when the owner of said car lost his footing over a patch of frozen snow. Ethan’s hawk like reflexes saved the man’s dignity, but the stuff that he was holding onto fell to the ground with a muffled thud. His fingers clung to the fabric of Benji’s coat, who looked like he’d accepted his faith and was shocked to find himself still mostly upright.

Benji’s eyes were still opened wider than usual when he stammered out a thanks. His hand covered Ethan’s own, slowly tugging at the fingers that were digging into the fabric by now. “It’s okay,” Benji said as he freed himself from Ethan’s grasp, “Just slipped.”

His fingers lingered near Ethan’s for a bit longer, but then he moved to grab the box that he’d dropped before. Some cables had slipped out, so Ethan crouched down to help rescue them from the wet snow and handed them back to Benji. “It’s all junk anyway,” Benji tried, but he accepted the cables and other bits of scrappy hardware that Ethan handed back to him nonetheless.

“It’s not junk if it allows you to create great things,” Ethan said casually. He paused mid-movement as he realized what he’d just said, but Benji seemed largely unbothered by the statement. The man merely shook his head and tutted at his phrasing of ‘great things’.

They stood back up. Benji unlocked the car and dropped the contents in the trunk. Now empty handed, Benji had the room to briefly touch Ethan on the shoulder. “Thanks, mate,” he said. The gesture seemed a bit wooden and awkward, the hesitant smile the icing on the cake. All of it was so endearing that Ethan couldn’t help but melt slightly.

“No problem,” Ethan said. He must’ve looked like a toothpaste tutorial, but he smile on his face was as genuine as anything could be.

Benji half turned to his car, then turned back to Ethan. He paused, shifted anxiously and then checked his watch. “I uh, I gotta go,” he said. “Airport.”

“Ah, of course,” Ethan replied. His smile dropped. “Merry Christmas?” he added, questioningly.

Benji released a breathy laugh. “Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

It would have been a perfect place to leave off the conversation, but Benji lingered a bit too much and Ethan’s uneasy feeling altered his judgement. Just as Benji turned around and opened the driver’s door, Ethan took a step forward.

“Benji-,” he said.

“Yeah?” Benji stilled, the door forming a barrier between them. Benji leaned one arm on it, looking at Ethan expectantly.

“Be careful, please,” Ethan spoke quietly.

Benji’s expressive face was carved into nothing except confusion. “Are you gonna give me the ’drive safe’ lecture?” he asked. He tried to laugh, but Ethan’s serious expression must’ve thrown him off for a bit.

Ethan traced a fingertip across the rubber of the car door.

“No, I mean…” he started, “it’s difficult to form any sort of relationship with our job being...”

“Ethan-,” Benji tried to interject, but Ethan continued: “I thought it was possible with Julia. We had a lovely house, we settled down. Things were perfect.” He didn’t look Benji in the eye, but he could almost feel the sad puppy dog eyes burning a hole in the side of his face.

He took a sharp intake of breath and looked up, not expecting to see Benji’s expressive eyes filled to the brim with more than just the one emotion. There was sympathy in the lines around his eyes, but the blues itself revealed a sadness that seemed entirely unrelated to Ethan’s story.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan’s hand paused on the frame of the door, just a couple inches from where Benji’s hand rested. “I just want you to be aware of the risks.”

Benji’s eyes dropped down to where their hands almost met. It flicked back to Ethan’s face for a second, then he pulled his hand back as if burned. He sighed, briefly combing his hand through his hair. His body was stiff and his language gave away more than what the IMF would’ve taught him to be. Benji had always been so incredibly human, which had intrigued Ethan in the first place.

“Why are you telling me this, Ethan?” Benji spoke so quietly that Ethan barely caught it. His face was turned away now, as if he had just figured out that his eyes were giving away too much information.

“I want you to be happy,” Ethan admitted. Benji looked up at that, confusion ghosting over most of his features again. There seemed to be a dash of something else, which Ethan almost might have mistaken for something close to hope.

“Whoever it’s with,” he added, unsure. “Just know the risk.”

The light in Benji’s eyes dimmed. Where it previously had been a series of fireworks, there now was not a single traceable thing left.

“Benji, did I-,” Ethan reached out, not liking the way Benji seemed to close in on himself. Benji shook his head and sat down, fumbling with the key in the ignition slot. “Nah. Maybe. Whatever. I’ve got to go.” Benji said quickly, closing the door so fast that Ethan had to be careful not to lose his balance.

The Ford pulled out of the parking space in one fluent motion, leaving Ethan standing there in the suddenly way too cold parking lot.

--

Work had been more uneventful than other days. Ethan did not allow himself to ponder too much on why exactly, but even without consciously going there he knew that he missed having Benji around.

It wasn’t exactly like they’d been conjoined twins ever since Ethan realized he was harbouring some sort of a crush on the full-of-life colleague, but at least he’d felt as if Benji had always been down the hallway. Even when he wasn’t physically there due to one mission or another, he always felt nearby in an odd sort of way.

Now, however, they hadn’t exactly parted in a way that made Ethan feel comfortable.

He wasn’t sure where he had gone wrong. If Benji really was dating someone (he said ‘love you’ to her!), he deserved to know that Ethan respected that, right? He had tried to live in normalcy before and fucked it over for himself. Benji, being the human embodiment of the best of humanity, could surely try and make it work.

With a sigh he closed his laptop. There wasn’t use in pretending to be productive for the last ten minutes until he was officially off for the day.

His commute wasn’t very interesting, save from the times he thought he saw a silver Ford Focus with a Virginia plate pull into the road. It was embarrassing, really. There was no reason for Benji to even drive on this particular section of highway, as it was in no way heading to Fairfax to begin with. And yet, all he seemed to crave right now was just the slightest glimpse of the Brit.

It didn’t quite end there, but when he’d gotten home he at least wasn’t expecting Benji to show up wherever he could. The younger man hadn’t even ever set foot anywhere Ethan’s place, nor had he ever been at Benji’s apartment. If they even met up outside of work, it usually involved one or two other team members and a bar within walking distance.

There were some clear traces of Benji around, though. There was a postcard of Hunt, Arkansas which puzzled Ethan to this day; a copy of Close Encounters of the Third Kind and, finally, a photo of the team flashing exhausted smiles at the camera. Ethan usually didn’t hold on too tight to artefacts like that, but this particular photo was slightly different. On the photo his hair was slightly longer, whereas Benji’s hair was a bit shorter. There was the beginning of the beard filling in the way he kept it now, but the rest of his features betray a bit more youthfulness. The younger Benji looked content as he clung to Ethan’s side, the muscular arm of the older agent resting protectively on his shoulder.

He used to love the photo, but as he looked at it now he felt as if it was telling him how badly he had fucked up.

---

Ethan didn’t exactly look at his private phone a lot, which is why he was surprised to hear it beep multiple times in succession. It was a surprise to him that the thing was even charged, let alone that anyone could be bothered to text it.

Benji Dunn: 7 messages
└ I think I’ve acted a bit out a couple days ago.
└ Your intentions were good. I just got spooked a bit.
└ I guess.
└ Anyway, I’m texting because I’m inviting you over to a peace offering coffee.
└ I can’t really spend my Not-Christmas thinking I’ve been an arse to you.
└ Peace on earth and all.
└ How does this place sound?
[attached google map location]

That probably could’ve fit into one message, but Ethan wasn’t one to comment on texting etiquette. He opened the google maps location. The pin dropped almost exactly between his current location and where he assumed Benji would roughly live, which meant that it was probably less than a half an hour drive.

He sighed, looking around briefly before replying.

┘ Sounds good. We could grab lunch?

It didn’t take too long for a reply to fly in.

└ Sure
└ Am out with Libbie though, so she’ll tag along.
└ Ok?

He winced.

┘Of course. Meet at 1?

He glanced at the clock. If Benji agreed, he’d have just enough time to freshen up a little before heading there.

└ On it.

---

It wasn’t usually his style to be late, but given that he had swapped out his shirt for a cleaner one and slightly underestimated the drive, he actually had done exceptionally well. The clock had just hit 1 as he exited the car to make the short walk to the café. At exactly three minutes past he located it.

He was going to walk in, be his best self and hope to smooth things over. What he didn’t plan on doing was come to a standstill just outside of the door.

Through the glass he saw Benji sat at a low coffee table, sitting on the tip of a leather chair as he leaned forward. There was a smile on his features, but he had cast his eyes skyward as if to silently ask someone to come and save him. The woman – Libbie, was busying himself with putting a thick scarf around his neck. The bright red fabric looped around Benji’s neck, who now met the woman’s eyes as his grin grew. He started talking, but Ethan couldn’t quite read lips from this angle.

He squared his shoulders just slightly as he pushed the door and walked in, ignoring the waiter who shot him an odd look.

Libbie noticed him first. She squinted her eyes just a little, then cocked her head to the side. Benji followed her gaze, facial expression measured as he noticed Ethan. For a moment they just seemed to stare at each other, but then Benji seemed to come to life. He stood up politely, gesturing at the third chair around the coffee table.

Benji seemed anxious, which made Ethan in turn suspect that something was up. Was this a meeting in which he was going to announce what everyone in the IMF already knew? ‘Hey Ethan, I’m dating the very person Brandt mocked me for!’ He glanced at Libbie. They’d seemed content around each other. At ease. It was completely different than the moments Benji had with Ethan. At most, Benji would allow himself to compliment Ethan in his excitement over working together with him.

There had been moments where Ethan had thought they had something going on. It’d be a brief moment of eye contact with the faintest hint of a smile, or maybe a casual brush of fingers. In hindsight it didn’t matter much, because across from him sat a very content Benji. The scarf still snug against his neck.

Ethan’s gaze followed the writing on the scarf, but it was difficult to make out the letters in its scrunched up position.

“Oh,” Benji said as he followed the line of sight, “it’s a gift. From home.”

Libbie spoke up, which made Ethan realize that he’d never heard her speak prior to the meeting. “I think blue is more his colour, but the supporters scarves for the Bristol Rovers were out of stock.” She looked at Ethan during the first part of the sentence, but the later jab was clearly directed at Benji.

“Oi!” Benji said in mock offense as he removed the scarf. “I’m not a gashead.”

He folded up the red scarf, which meant that Ethan could finally figure out what it said. Across the neck it read ‘BRISTOL CITY F.C.’, with on both ends a crest with a small bird in it that repeated the name of the team.

“So,” Benji started, putting the folded up scarf on the coffee table. “This is Libbie,” he gestured to the blonde on his right. “Libbie, this is… Ethan,” Benji said, looking up at him. “Despite what she claims, she’d never think quite as poorly of me as saying I’m a Rovers fan would suggest.”

Ethan reached out and shook Libbie’s hand, muttering out a polite greeting. He then leaned back in the chair, eyes darting between the two across from him as if playing a game of Pong.

Before anyone felt like breaking the silence, a waiter arrived.

“Got any decent tea?” Libbie immediately asked, not even giving the drinks selection a single glance. The waiter rattled off a couple options, but it didn’t seem nearly as excessive as the coffee selection. She made her selection, then looked over at Benji.

“Errr…” Benji said, eyes scanning over the list of brews. “Honestly, a cappuccino would do, thanks.” Libbie gasped, “You’ve gone native!”

Ethan, who didn’t really have a strong preference, glanced at the menu once. “A Greek coffee sounds interesting,” he smiled politely at the waiter, thankful for him providing some distraction at the right time.

Once the waiter was gone, Benji leaned in just slightly to Libbie. “I have learned to grow distrustful of Americans and tea.” He glanced briefly at Ethan, who raised his eyebrows.

“I heard that,” Ethan folded his arms.

“I appreciated the effort,” Benji said quietly, “it just… wasn’t very good.”

Libbie laughed. “You’ve charmed an American into making you tea, that is quite an achievement in itself.”

“Lots of Americans drink tea!” Benji said in defence. It wasn’t like his green card was on the line, but Ethan appreciated the sentiment.

Libbie nodded at Ethan. “He doesn’t.”

Benji shifted a bit in his seat. His hand curled around the arm rest, toying a bit with the edge of a gap in the leather. Then, after a moment of silence, he parroted the “he doesn’t.”

---

Their drinks arrived, much to Ethan’s relief, not long after. It gave him both something to hide part of his face behind and something to distract himself with. The tea looked surprisingly good, which was confirmed by a soft hmm coming from Libbie as she took the first sip. Benji seemed curious, sniffing the tea once before stealing a little sip. He made a show of it as he moved the liquid across his mouth like a true wine taster. At the end he licked his lips a little, tracing whatever was left of the flavour.

“Not bad,” was Benji’s conclusion.

Ethan felt the twitch of a smile, but it failed to show up when Libbie took the glass back from Benji and started sipping on the tea herself. He busied himself with his Greek coffee. The strong flavour allowed him to take small sips as well, which meant that he was able to keep up with the rhythm of the other guests on the table.

It also meant that it was awfully quiet.

“So you’re a colleague of Benji, huh?” Libbie broke the silence, holding the tea in her hands as she looked at him in a calculated way.

Ethan nodded.

“I didn’t know they made software developers like that,” she said slowly. Benji made a soft sound next to her, elbow moving in her direction. She dodged it, holding onto Benji’s wrist to keep him at an arm’s length. “Benji’s mentioned that you’ve ‘literally saved his life’ a couple times,” she continued, air quotes and all.

Benji tensed up, so Ethan decided to help him out with a little white lie. “I’ve covered up a shift here and there,” he said, smiling politely.

She sighed, dropping the subject. It allowed Ethan to change the direction.

“So what is Libbie short for?” he asked, inching just a little closer to appear genuinely interested. Libbie lit up at the question, looking over at Benji as if to share an inside joke. She then looked back at Ethan, leaning in a little as if she was about to tell a ghost story at the campfire.

“So, our parents are really into old-fashioned names that no one in their right mind would use in the twenty-first century, right?” Ethan nodded. Of course Benji and Libbie shared this coincidence: it only made them more of an annoyingly well-matched couple. He glanced at Benji, who simply shrugged at him in a ‘she does this’ type of way.

“Anyway,” Libbie continued, “as a result you get Benjamin ‘Benji’ Dunn and Elizabeth ‘Libbie’ Dunn.”

Ethan froze, eyes automatically glancing down at their hands. He only now noticed Libbie wore a golden wedding band. Feeling panic rise, Ethan’s eyes darted over to Benji’s hands. He wasn’t wearing any rings.
Then realization seemed to strike, and suddenly things made so much more sense.

“You’re his sister,” he said, putting just a little bit of emphasis on the sister part.

Benji’s nose crinkled in puzzlement. “Of course she is, what else would she be?”

Libbie perked up. “Oh my god,” her eyes twinkled, “you thought we were a couple.”

She pulled Benji in, holding him in a headlock (which Ethan knew Benji could easily escape from, he’d seen it) as she put her face next to his. It was, probably by accident, a similar pose to the photo on her calling ID. Except the headlock. “We literally are the same person,” she said, one hand pointing at the both of them.

“Well,” Benji said, muffled against the sleeve of her sweater. “I wouldn’t exactly-“

“You’re right,” Libbie said as she released him, “you have dad’s nose.”

Benji automatically reached up to his nose, glaring at her as he did so. Continuing the teasing, Libbie added a quick: “and his hairline.”

Ethan observed the bickering, mentally beating himself up for not noticing it earlier. What he had thought was comfort over using phrases of endearment wasn’t entirely a bad observation, but Benji’s casual and slightly disinterested tone as he said it made much more sense, now.

“I can’t believe you thought we were dating,” Libbie says in repetition of her earlier statement.

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, indeed feeling a bit like an idiot.

“Benji’s as gay as they can get,” she added, still sounding a bit perplexed.

“Libbie!” Benji exclaimed, tugging on her sleeve to grab her attention. She ignored him, even when he leaned over and hissed in her ear.

“He doesn’t know.”

Libbie leaned away on her chair, pushing Benji away with a hand on his chest. “I thought it was normal for older brothers to join in when their little sister was holding a tea party with her dolls.”

“I was just being polite,” Benji said weakly.

“Yeah, and you totally didn’t enjoy making up stories and dressing them up.”

“Did not.”
“Did,” Libbie said sternly. Before Benji could continue the back and forth, she spoke up again. “This one time in college – or well: Benji was in college, I was still in high school… This one time in college he had a crush on a goth.” Benji stilled.

“You’re not telling this story,” Benji said, putting more bass in the syllables than he usually did. It sounded as close to a growl as the man could possibly achieve.

“We didn’t know, right, and suddenly Benji’s getting a new haircut and wearing all this black clothing.” The tips of Benji’s ears coloured, just a little. “Eyeliner,” Libbie put some more emphasis on that particular word, even gesturing at her own eyes as she said it. “So my brother’s a goth now, and he’s listening to all this weird stuff like Bauhaus-“

“There’s nothing wrong with Bauhaus,” Benji said weakly.

“Weird stuff like Bauhaus,” Libbie continued, “and he even got his ears pierced, right?”

Ethan’s eyes automatically darted over to Benji’s ears, but Benji was already raising his shoulders up to shield them. Benji was avoiding eye contact like his life depended on it.

“So we think ‘it’s just a phase’, though college is maybe a bit late for phases. Anyway, so this one time he gets back home from Oxford for the weekend with another boy. He was cute. I hit on him. Benji didn’t seem to like it much, as the following day I found them snogging. In my bed.”

Ethan expected Benji to comment on the statement, but his figure seemed oddly lifeless on the leather chair right now.

“Suddenly it made sense though, Benji had such a huge crush that he changed his entire appearance and lifestyle to impress the boy.”

She looked at Ethan as if to make a point, but the agent was so overwhelmed by the flood of words that he couldn’t even nod in acknowledgement. His mind was picking at various elements of the story. First and foremost, he was trying to imagine a younger version of Benji. A goth Benji. He almost felt the error message pop up as he failed to come up with an image. Benji had changed everything about himself to impress a boy in college.

He found himself wondering what happened to them. Who broke whose heart first. It was ‘just’ a college fling, most likely, but it was the first time Ethan had heard anything about Benji’s dating history.

He shook his head slowly. Once he looked up Libbie was still looking at him, clearly expecting some sort of a reaction.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Some warmth left Libbie’s face, and it was only now that Ethan realized just how similar their eyes were. Hers were full of life, but the range of emotions was more fiery than he’d ever really seen in Benji’s empathic eyes.

“You don’t get it, do you?” It was a question in the grammatical sense, but Ethan didn’t really feel like he was required to answer the statement.

“Libbie,” Benji stirred, the brown flecks in his eyes showing emotions that were quite the opposite of Libbie’s. “Please, don’t do this.”

Libbie’s fire directed itself to her older brother. “I’m doing this for your sake,” she said, voice softening just a little.

Benji held her gaze for a second. Ethan, only seeing his profile, saw his mouth quiver slightly. “No, you’re not,” his voice cracked slightly. He stood up, gathering his woollen jacket and the car keys from the table.

“Benji,” Ethan said, echoed by Libbie who called out at almost the exact same time. Ethan held out a hand to stop him, but Benji brushed by them and left without saying anything.

“Dammit,” Libbie hissed. She reached into her pocket, getting out a couple of crumbled up dollar bills. “I hope this is enough,” she said, barely glancing at him. She didn’t even bother pulling on her coat as she grabbed it from the back of her chair.

“I’m sorry,” Libbie said, a weak apologetic smile on her face. Then she left in a whirlwind to catch up with the retreating shape of her brother.

The waiter who had eyed Ethan suspiciously before walked up to him hesitantly. “Do you want the bill, sir?” he asked slowly. He nodded, the silence washing over him after the intensity of what just happened.

As the waiter picked up the abandoned tea and cappuccino, Ethan’s eyes fell on the bright red soccer scarf. He sighed, picking it up. His thumb brushed softly over the lines of the red robin in the fabric.

He wasn’t sure what he had missed or what he should do, but his instinct told him to at least take the scarf along with him. He doubted Benji had wanted to leave it behind when he rushed off.

Ethan flinched. He hoped he hadn’t ruined Christmas for Benji, even when it was technically still three weeks away.

----
When he got back at the office, Jane’s eyes immediately fell on the red fabric of the scarf.

“Don’t mention it,” Ethan said stiffly. She dropped the subject immediately.

---

He was at home when his private phone rang.

After Benji texted him on this number, he had made sure to put his phone on the charger overnight. Despite that, he was still slightly surprise to hear the phone release a sound.

He nearly dropped the phone back on the surface of the kitchen counter when he saw that it was a number that wasn’t in his contacts, but when he took a closer look at the number he noticed the +44 at the start.

Considering the amount of British people he knew were to count on one hand, he figured it was pretty safe to assume that it was important.

“Ethan,” he said as he picked up the phone.

“Oh, thank god,” crackled a female voice on the other side of the line.

“Libbie? How did you get-“

“Nicked it from Benji,” she said as if it was a logical explanation. “Look, it’s terribly expensive to call you, so as much as I’d like to have a chit chat: I’ve got to prioritize.”

Ethan closed his mouth, but when he was about to listen he couldn’t help but suggest that she called him from Benji’s landline.

“This is Benjamin Dunn we’re talking about, he hasn’t used a landline since he’d gotten his first mobile phone.”

Ethan laughed at that. He moved across the kitchen to fill a glass of water. Once he managed to succeed more or less with one hand, he leaned on the counter.

“You better listen and make the phone bill worth it,” Libbie started with a warning. Ethan nodded, then added a soft ‘hmmhmm’ sound to audibly agree.

“Right, so I do apologize for upsetting Benji, that wasn’t my intention,” Ethan raised an eyebrow, wanting to argue that it clearly seemed like she was aware of the dangerous territory she was heading at in the café. “That being said, my brother is an idiot who doesn’t know what’s best for him.”

Ethan hummed again, but this time it was more a sound of displeasure.

“He’s forty-three, I think it’s about time he gets what he deserves.” She paused, staying silent for so long that Ethan raised the phone from his ear for a second to check if the call had ended. “Remember the story about the goth kid?”

“I do,” Ethan replied. He feared the direction this was headed.

“Seeing the goth suddenly made things made sense, right?” She said.

Ethan took a sip of water. “Right.”

“I had the same feeling when I saw you step into the café,” she said. There was a short pause, as if she was trying to patiently explain something to someone who struggled to catch up. “Benji left for the United States for a job offer, but he was always on working visas. So every now and then he’d come home for a couple weeks to arrange a new working visa, then he left again.”

Losing track of the direction this was heading, Ethan decided to remain silent.

“One day he returned and he seemed… different. In a good way, it wasn’t as traumatizing as the whole goth thing.” She laughed, shortly. “He wore neat shirts and all, he had shaved the goatee. Fuck, he even looked really good in the physical sense.”

Ethan must’ve made a sound, because she quickly added. “Don’t worry, I haven’t seen him without his shirt off or anything. I just noticed that he was less squishy when we hugged as I picked him up from Heathrow.”

“Okay,” Ethan said. “Where’s this going?”

“Well, when he got home he donated a lot of his old graphic tees. I was weeding through them with him, giving some feedback on which ones to keep. I errr.. might have cornered him and asked him why the hell he was giving half of his wardrobe away to charity.” Ethan pictured the scene, quietly chuckling at the comically large pile of clothes his mind supplied.

“He didn’t say anything until dinner. It wasn’t really a surprise when he told me and our mum and da’ that he applied for a green card.”

Ethan remembered that, partially because Brandt had bullied Benji about not being able to pass an integration test for not knowing the rules to ‘the superior’ football. The grin on Benji’s face when he got to shove it in Brandt’s face that he was actually an American citizen was something that Ethan didn’t have trouble recalling.

“When I dropped him off at the airport I asked him why he’d applied for one. Like, he’d been living abroad for a couple years now and never bothered to commit to it, y’know. We thought it’d only be a matter of time until he came back. I’m not Sherlock Holmes or sumwhat, but I figured he would have gotten a reason to stay.”

Ethan suddenly felt the need to put the glass down on the counter.

“He said he had a reason, now.”

The cold surface of the counter felt like the only thing grounding him right now. His fingers traced patterns into the dark material as he considered things.

“So if I’m not mistaken,” Ethan started hesitantly, “you’re implying he’s staying here because of… me.” Libbie made a soft sound in agreement. “What are you basing that on?”

The series of disbelieving sounds he got in return sounded odd as they got deformed through the phone. “Are you kidding me,” she said, sounding as if she was ready to tear her hair out. “You are almost as bad as my brother, and he’s the absolute worst.”

“Thanks?” Ethan said, not sure how to take the comment.

“I know my brother,” she stated.

Ethan sighed, “Of course.”

“Oh, and he might’ve mentioned fancying you.”

This time he choked, completely failing to sound casual. “What?”

“My brother is under the illusion that you’re completely out of his league, but I’m suspecting that’s not really the case,” she said without missing a beat. “Judging by the way you glared at me when you thought I was dating Benji, at least.” Her voice dropped accusingly.

“I-“

“So if you are even half as into him as Benji seems to be into you – I can’t blame him, then I’d suggest you come over for our Christmas dinner tonight.”

Ethan glanced at the clock, “It’s already 4:30”

“Better hurry then,” Libbie said casually.

He clenched his jaw. “Is Benji okay with this?”

“He will be,” Libbie assured.

Ethan’s mind snapped back to the stubborn look on Benji’s face when he insisted he wanted to help back in Vienna. If he had ever doubted they were siblings, any of that would be gone now. She clearly possessed the same type of… convincing skills.

“Alright,” he gave in, “but I’ve never actually been to his apartment, so give me the address.”

- - -
Ethan went through the motions as if on autopilot. Any thought that threatened to reach the surface was quickly pulled back behind a wall of neutral feelings. He knew he had already agreed with Libbie that he would be there, but the thoughts screaming distantly in the back of his mind were begging him to not leave the house.
The drive across the DC metropolitan area to Fairfax was rather uneventful. He had glanced at the time a couple times, mentally asking himself how on earth he managed not to crash in the blur of the last fifteen minutes. Thankfully driving had become second nature to him as much as to any average human. Given how adrenalin-filled some of his past car chases were, he couldn't exactly blame his brain for shutting off.

The only moment a dash of doubt and anxiety managed to slip through was when he pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. The robotic voice that announced to him that he'd arrived seemed as helpful as ever.
Ethan slipped into the apartment complex when someone just left to walk their dog. Libbie had given him the directions to the exact apartment, which meant that she had probably expected him to go straight to the front door rather than ring. He was beginning to think that this lady already knew him far better than he'd dare admit.
Turning the corner, he arrived at a dark wooden door with the same number on that Libbie had supplied him with: 32. Not taking time to overthink, Ethan knocked.

It remained quiet on the other side of the door long enough for Ethan to start questioning whether he had memorised the correct number, but then he heard muffled talking and footsteps approaching the front door. Ethan tried to smile in the least threatening way as the door opened.
Benji opened it just enough to peek around the corner of the door. His face failed to hide the moment of genuine shock.

"Hi," Ethan said stupidly.

The Englishman stared at him for a bit longer, then closed the door. Ethan didn't need to strain his ears to hear the sharp "Libbie!?" coming from Benji. What followed was a whirlwind of soft murmuring with occasionally louder exclaims. Ethan didn't quite know whether he should stay, but he decided to wait at least until the sound died down on the other side of the door.

After about a minute, the door opened again. "Ethan," Benji said, his guard up. Ethan noted that the door was open a little wider than before, but there was still some skittishness visible in his body language.

"Hi, again," Ethan said with a cautious smile. "I eh," he squared his shoulders a little, "we need to talk."

Benji glanced behind him shortly. "Now?"

"Preferably, yes."

The younger man's hand drummed an uneven rhythm on the edge of the door that he was holding. "It's not really a convenient time right now…"

"I see."

"We got our not-quite-Christmas Dinner tonight and all," Benji continued, trying to sound as apologetic as he could.

"Bollocks!" yelled someone from further down the house. "He's got mum's genes, so he always cooks too much because he refuses to watch me starve." Libbie appeared behind Benji, her hair tied up messily and wearing a flour speckled apron.

Benji looked back at her. Ethan couldn't tell what the expression was from his angle, but he figured it was a rather dirty look. Libbie shrugged, not breaking the eye contact in their sibling staredown.
It was Benji who lost the battle. He turned around and pushed the door open a bit further. "Come in, then," Benji murmured softly. It pained Ethan to see him so unenthusiastically, which inevitably made him more determined to smooth things out between them.

Ethan, who had not seen Benji's personal living space yet, couldn't help but immediately start taking things in. Alright, he had to admit it was second nature for him to map out emergency exits in any room he entered, but this time there was a personal interest in his observations too.

The furniture in itself wasn't the most interesting. It was modern and darker toned, making it appear almost as if it belonged in the catalogue for IKEA. Benji's personality wasn't showing through in his furniture selection, but it was definitely sprawled all across it. Ethan's eyes tracked across a few picture frames of Benji with a variety of friends and family, including the same one of him and his sister he'd seen before. He looked further, smiling a little too himself as he saw the 'Merr Christmas' hung across the wall.

Benji noticed his amusement at the decoration choice. He looked a little embarrassed as he said, "Yeah, I had an accident with the 'y' when I was putting it up."

Ethan, who thought it was more endearing than necessary for something so trivial, laughed out loud at that. "I guess Merr Christmas is appropriate for an almost Christmas celebration."

Benji, who seemed at least get a bit less jumpy, dared to smile at that. "You could say that."

There was a heavy silence between them, which didn't seem to go by Libbie unnoticed. "If you want I can wrap up the final things and get the table ready?"

Maybe, all things considered, Libbie wasn't so bad.

Benji didn't seem so sure though, his face scrunched up. "Are you sure you can manage?"

"Don't worry, I've prepared a roast turkey before."

Benji looked unimpressed. "You probably meant to say that you've screwed it up before."

Libbie flipped him the V, then turned around to head to the kitchen in a stubborn manner. "She's insufferable," Benji groaned. He didn't move to follow her, though.

"She's… something," Ethan nodded.

"She's five years younger than I am," Benji spoke as he looked around the room. He sighed, gesturing to the couch. Ethan accepted the invitation to sit down, trying not to be too disappointed when Benji sat down in the chair across the coffee table. "Five years difference means I was saved from most psychological warfare siblings tend to have, but I'd like to think she's trying to make up for some lost time."

"She seems to care about you," Ethan said softly. He wasn't an expert on sibling dynamics, though he had heard similar stories before.

"Oh no," Benji winced a little. "What did she say?"

Ethan bit his lip in thought as he remained silent for a moment. Based on the muffled dialogue from before and the dirty looks, Benji was more than aware already of the fact that Libbie was the reason he showed up at his apartment. He decided to play it casual, trying to shrug it off. "It's nothing to worry about."

"I very much doubt that," Benji said quietly. He wasn't looking at Ethan as he picked at the fabric of the arm rest.

"Benji, I promise I'm not here to embarrass you further," Ethan tried to reassure.

Benji's eyes flicked up nervously. "You weren't the one who embarrassed me in the first place," he said softly. His gaze fell on the door to the kitchen, before he seemed to steady himself a bit to make proper eye contact with Ethan. "I need to know what she said, though."

"She has a lot of… theories," Ethan started hesitantly.

Benji breathed out through his nose, hands rubbing his thighs. "She does."

Again, Ethan felt himself search for the right words. "One of the things she mentioned was your green card."

"What about it?" Benji said, "I earned that, you know." he joked defensively in addition.

"I-" Ethan started, knowing he was approaching dangerous territory. "Please don't freak out, okay?"

"I'm a trained-," Benji glanced at the door again, lowering his voice in volume, "field agent, Ethan. I can handle my emotions."

Ethan nodded stiffly. "Okay."

"Okay, and…?"

"Your sister is under the impression that the circumstances and timing of you applying for a green card have to do with me."

Benji froze. For a moment Ethan saw a flicker of realization and panic, but he shielded it pretty much immediately from the outside world.

"Of course it has to do with you,” Benji said weakly. "It was for work. We work together."

"Benji, come on. Work with me here. It's already difficult enough to have to say-"

Benji interjected: "Say it, then."

"I believe you know what I'm implying," Ethan replied.

"I don't want you to imply things. I don't want there to be any confusion," Benji sounded genuine, but the tension was on clear display in the muscle of his jaw.

"Alright, then. Your sister has used it as evidence to support the case that you… have feelings for me."

The Englishman didn't seem stumped, but the accusation did seem to have slammed the breaks on him somewhere. Ethan had expected a flutter of sound and denial, instead he was met with complete silence.

"Benji?" he said gently. He wanted to so badly to reach out and touch him reassuringly, but right now the seat opposite of him seemed miles away. "Do you?"

Benji bit the inside of his cheek.

"I promise it's okay," Ethan continued. He silently begged the man to look at his face and see, what he suspected, the openly honest emotions on display. Benji opted out of eye contact though, holding up his hand to his forehead as he rubbed his temples tiredly.

"I'm sorry," Benji said softly. His other hand had joined his face now, hiding it entirely. "I didn't want to," the sound came out muffled behind the palms of his hands. He lowered them. "I didn't want to fall in love," Benji said, this time without the barrier between them.

Ethan's brain suffered from a short circuit, which might be why his thoughts were still stuck on one thing. "So the green card…"

"It's partially true," Benji released a breathy laugh. "It's pathetic."

"It's not."

"Oh no, it is." Again, Benji glanced at the kitchen door. "Obviously she doesn't know the whole reason. I loved the field training. It made me feel like I had a purpose. I'd already passed most of my exams when I got my green card."

Ethan’s eyebrows scrunched up, puzzled.

"What she's sort of right about," Benji spoke more hesitant now, "is that I… well, applied to become a field agent thanks to you."

It didn't feel like new information, but Ethan couldn't recall an incident where Benji had explained his move. It had just made so much sense that Benji would show up wherever he went, he hadn't even questioned it. Much.

"I don't want things to change," Benji blurted out. "I went into this wanting nothing to change.”

There were too many things Ethan wanted to say right now. The foremost thought that kept spinning around was the confirmation that he had made Benji stay. The man opposite of him had a life and family across the pond, yet he had left all of that behind and taken on one of the most dangerous jobs that someone could possibly have. The idea spiralled around various parts of him in an unease, bringing up memories of the man’s pleading eyes as he had sat across from him literally strapped to a bomb. On the other hand: the man had expressed a loyalty and love that went beyond what Ethan could ever expect. Part of him couldn’t help but feel mushy about that.

The kitchen door opened hesitantly, snapping Ethan out of his thought process. He looked over at Benji, but the man’s attention was the furthest away from his sister’s presence at the moment. Libbie poked her head around, eyeing the two of them as if she was checking on whether two newly introduced cats had started a fight yet.

“Are you two alright?” she asked, just above a whisper.

Benji nearly jumped, sitting up straight with an almost inhuman speed. He didn’t say anything, just looked at Ethan expectantly.

“Could you give us five more minutes?” Ethan asked politely.

Benji finally looked up at his sister, adding a small nod to what Ethan had just said.

Libbie shrugged, but didn’t complain as she returned to her previous task.

“You should come over more often,” Benji murmured. “She has never been so eager to help me out.”

Ethan, without thinking, answered: “You want me to?”

It seemed to stump Benji, who could only stammer out a couple consonants before looking away. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh,” Ethan scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “that’s a shame.”

Benji tilted his head a little, narrowing his eyes as he softly made an ‘hmm?’ sound.

“I like your apartment,” he shrugged.

Benji laughed, but there wasn’t any of the warmth in there that Ethan loved to hear. “It’s nothing pretty.”

Ethan looked around, gesturing vaguely around at the contents of the living room. There were the photos, of course, but there was also a wide collection of various books that Ethan would love to have a closer look at during the next snooping opportunity. Other things that would require more investigation were the rack of CDs and the various titles on cases - he wasn’t sure from this distance whether they were dvds or games. “It’s got a lot of you in it.”

“There’s a lot of junk in there,” Benji said. He stood up, heading to a thin piece of cardboard that was tucked into the bookcase. As he pulled it out Ethan realized it was a brand new piece of vinyl.

“Is that-”

“Kylie Minogue?” Benji smiled a little to himself, “The record is not so bad, it’s more so the fact that I haven’t got anything to play it on.”

Ethan stood up, ignoring the way Benji reflexively put the record between them the moment he approached. He reached out a hand, silently asking for permission to take the album. Benji clung to his defense for a second, then handed it to Ethan. He took a half step back.

“This isn’t a bad compilation,” Ethan said as he trailed his finger down the list of songs on the back.

“Libbie saw it in a record store in Cardiff,” Benji’s eyes followed the movement of Ethan’s finger. “There’s this one that claims to be the oldest one in the world. It’s kinda a shithole, though.” He laughed, again, this time sounding more genuine. “She saw it and figured I needed it for the, and I quote, ‘gay nostalgia’.”

Benji grabbed the record again from Ethan, this time looking at the back himself as if he hadn’t checked out the song selection until then. A frown appeared as he took in the titles.

“‘Give Me Just A Little More Time’ used to come on all the time when I went clubbing,” Benji’s voice seemed to drift into the nostalgic territory of before. “I personally think ‘Your Disco Needs You’ is a great tune, but I was maybe a bit too old to enjoy it as much as I did.”

“I don’t think I know that one,” Ethan admitted.

“Of course you don’t,” Benji mumbled, “you’re straight, after all.” He put away the record, almost looking ashamed for even showing the thing in the first place.

“Benji,” Ethan couldn’t stop himself for reaching out and gently grabbing his bicep.

Benji flinched, gently tugging on the weak grip that Ethan had on him. Ethan dropped his hand, but he did take a small step closer as well.

“I’m not actually straight.”

The pair of them were silent, the clutter of sounds from the kitchen the only audible thing in the apartment. Then the both of them spoke up at once.

“But Ju--”

“I though-

Benji laughed awkwardly. “After you.”

“I thought you had figured it out,” Ethan said softly.

“How on earth was I meant to know?” Benji exclaimed, wincing at himself a bit for how loud he suddenly got. He cleared his throat. “For fuck’s sake... Julia.”

“I did love her,” Ethan let out a slightly wavering breath, “I might still love her in some ways, but we have both moved on.”

Benji’s arm crossed his chest as his hand found his own elbow, creating an odd sort of self-hug. He was clearly thinking things over, his fingers softly moving over the fabric at his elbow. “So what did you mean when you said I had to be careful?”

“When did I say that?” Ethan frowned.

“In the parking lot. You were being all…,” Benji moved his free hand in a throw-away gesture as he searches for the appropriate word. “Weird.”

“Oh,” Ethan recalled the moment and felt blood run to his cheeks. “Yeah, about that.” He moved a hand through his hair. “I thought you were seeing someone,” Ethan said, adding an extra nod in the direction of the door.

Benji’s nose scrunched up at the thought. “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said quickly, “I was just looking out for you.”

“You-,” Benji paused, biting his lower lip. His weight shifted from one leg to another, making him sway slightly. “Thank you.” He looked up at Ethan, an unsure smile ghosting on his mouth as he released his bottom lip. “You don’t need to, though,” he added in an afterthought.

It might be a bit too forward, but Ethan reached out Benji’s shoulder, thumb moving reassuringly over the fabric of the woollen sweater. “I care about you,” Ethan intensely focused on Benji’s eyes, which mostly seemed to shift their attention back to him. “A lot.”

The younger man’s face softened, the brown flecks in his eyes looking sad whereas the blue around it seemed to dance with hope. Ethan couldn’t help but test the limits, moving his hand to lightly cup Benji’s jaw. The man leaned into it, eyes looking at him questioningly. Ethan was tempted to kiss him right then and there, but as he contemplated it, the five minute window they had seemed to be over.

Their first warning was an excited squeak. The second was a high pitched: “I knew you’d figure it out!” It was all they got before they were being squished together by a pair of arms belonging to Benji’s younger sister.

One half of Ethan’s face was pressed against Benji’s for a moment, the other’s beard scraping against his cheek in a way that contrasted the tender moment that got rudely interrupted. Much to his relief he was released as quick as the unexpected tackle had occurred.

“Oh, it’s Kylie!” Libbie said, holding up the record.

Benji, who had escaped her attention for a second, took the opportunity to send an apologetic look to Ethan.

“We should stick her on,” Libbie continued.

She was already halfway through removing the black vinyl from its sleeve when Benji interrupted her. “My record player’s still gathering dust at our parents’ in Bristol.”

“You’re kidding,” she sounded annoyed, “I told you to get one!”

“They were already old-fashioned when I was young,” Benji replied defensively. He grabbed the record from her, putting it out of reach from his sister by putting it on one of the higher shelves.

Libbie, now without something to distract her, went straight to Ethan as a fly attracted to syrup. “How old are you, actually?”

“I’m fifty-two,” Ethan replied truthfully to the sudden interrogation. She sighed, which made Ethan raise an eyebrow and ask a counter question. “Was that the wrong answer?”

“Noooo,” Libbie said slightly theatrically, “it’s just that Benji’s already such a grandpa.”
"Oi!"
"You are," Libbie didn't miss a beat, "at least you've picked someone who's handsome."

Ethan felt a little blush creep up, but it was nothing compared to the way the tips of Benji’s ears reddened. “Yeah, yeah, that’s enough,” Benji said quickly.

“Dinner’s ready anyway,” Libbie moved her arms in an ‘after you’ gesture, almost herding Benji to the kitchen.

Benji dismissed the gesture, instead refocusing on Ethan. He seemed to be chewing on something to say for a moment, but then he smiled slightly. “I’d love to officially invite you to the Dunn’s Christmas dinner.”

Ethan smiled brightly in return. “I’d love that, yes.”

Benji nodded once, then half-turned to follow Libbie to the kitchen. Ethan trailed behind him, almost out of an old habit putting his hand on the small of Benji’s back. The younger man released a soft startled sound, almost like a cat being pet unexpectedly, but then relaxed into it as he continued his path.

The preparations went pretty smooth. Benji had instantly decided to check up on the cooking he’d left under Libbie’s care and hummed in appreciation and Ethan had offered to help carry whatever they’d give to him. As a result he functioned largely as the main method of transport for anything that needed to get to the dining table, leaving some time for the siblings to bicker about some last minute decisions.

It was when he was tasked with putting down the plates that he finally got some further directions.

“You can sit there,” Libbie pointed at the seat at the head of the table. “Benji usually sits on that side of the table and I usually sit across from him,” she fiddled a bit with some of the food on the table, making sure everything looked at least presentable. “If you don’t mind, of course,” she added, pursing her lips a bit as she looked at the set-up. “Oh, I forgot one final thing!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands as she hurried out of the room. She brushed past Benji, who looked just about as puzzled as someone who grew up alongside someone high-energy would, probably.

Before Ethan could even explain what was going on, Libbie returned in the same hurry and put down a candle. Benji made a sputtering sound as he saw it, but Libbie raised a hand to silence him before he could even argue. “It’s a red and green candle,” she pointed at him using the very thing, “red and green is Christmas, so it’s allowed.”

“As long as you don’t set the bloody place on fire,” Benji mumbled in defeat.

With that final adjustment being made, the three of them finally settled into their unusual Christmas dinner scenario. Libbie kicked off pointing at the various dishes on the table, but sooner rather than later Benji picked up and started informing Ethan of the contents. “We’ve got the roast turkey, some mashed potatoes, a bit of cabbage and broccoli for the greens…” Quite a few things were familiar to him, but he still enjoyed the time Benji took to make sure he knew what was set up. “No pigs in blankets, but I’m starting to feel we should’ve included them.”

Ethan looked over at Libbie, who just shook her head with a slightly disgusted face.

“Oh c’mon, they’re not that bad,” Benji scoffed. He returned his gaze to Ethan, features gliding back into more kinder territories. “Just eat whatever you want. It’s all fairly normal stuff anyway.”

The three of them fell in a comfortable silence when they were stuffing their plates. Ethan noticed with some amusement that his own plate considered a lot more greenery than Benji’s plate, especially considering it wasn’t the first time he’d realized the differences in diet between the two. He didn’t notice he was staring until Libbie started speaking. The pointed look directed at him told him enough.

“It’s a good thing you invited an American, Ben.”

“Technically I wasn’t the one who invited him,” Benji said, adding an apologetic smile in Ethan’s direction to lighten the tone of his words.

“Sure,” Libbie shrugged, chewing on a bit of turkey, “but Ethan being here does justify breaking the one Christmas dinner rule.”

Ethan frowned. “There’s rules for this?”

Benji rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face showed that it was played up annoyance. This must’ve been something that had been addressed plenty of times in the past days. He said “maybe”, but it was drowned out by Libbie’s louder “Yes!”. Benji leaned in slightly closer to Ethan for a stage whisper. “The only rules she sticks to are Christmas rules.”

“I’ve never been arrested, so that’s a lie,” said Libbie defensively. “I stick to most rules, but Christmas is important.”

“Very,” said Benji with a sarcastic undertone. He was still tilted towards Ethan, one of his hands brushing by the fabric of his upper arm before moving away as he sat back up straight. There was a small smile ghosting on his mouth.

“Ethan,” Libbie sat closer now, her body language challenging where Benji’s had been inviting, “I know you’re distracted, but this is a very important lesson.”

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle softly at that. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture, still holding on to the knife and fork as the rest of his palm opened. “I’m paying attention,” he confirmed.
Libbie, pleased with that, smiled and continued. “So usually we stuff ourselves in the afternoon,” to put emphasis on that she stabbed another piece of turkey, “then we have the evening to quietly digest the pile of food, bicker about family drama and watch the Doctor Who christmas special.”

Ethan nodded, but he felt it was rather difficult to pay full attention to her with Benji just to his right.

“Christmas crackers are a requirement too, obviously,” Libbie looked at Benji for encouragement, which gave Ethan the excuse to break eye contact from the youngest at the table.

“I wasn’t the one who forgot to buy them, Christmas ‘95,” added Benji with a playful grin.

“You are supposed to be on my side!” said Libbie with mock offense. “If you’re ever bringing Ethan home for Christmas, he needs to understand the whole ordeal,” she said it so casually, but that one suggestion made Benji squirm in his seat in the blink of an eye.

As Libbie's words hung in the air, the room fell into an awkward silence. Ethan could feel the tension radiating from Benji, who looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He quickly glanced at Libbie, whose eyes sparkled with mischief.

Ethan cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, that's a possibility we can consider in the future," he said, trying to keep his tone light and non-committal. He didn't want to put Benji on the spot or make him feel pressured into anything.

Libbie smiled knowingly but didn't push the matter further. Instead, she changed the topic to something less awkward, and the conversation flowed more easily from there. As they enjoyed their Christmas dinner together, Ethan found himself feeling more at ease with both Libbie and Benji. It was evident that the bond between the siblings was strong, and they seemed to genuinely care for each other.

--

After dinner, as they sat together on the couch, digesting the feast, Libbie excused herself, leaving Ethan and Benji alone. The younger man let out a sigh of relief, finally able to relax without his sister's teasing presence.

"I'm sorry about her," Benji said, looking genuinely apologetic.

Ethan chuckled. "It's alright. She's just looking out for you, in her own way."

"Yeah, she has a tendency to meddle," Benji admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But I should have told you about her and her ideas."

"It's okay, really," Ethan reassured him. "I understand that families can be... well, family."

Benji smiled gratefully. "Thank you for being understanding. And for not running away screaming when she mentioned bringing you home for Christmas."

Ethan smirked. "I'm not one to run away easily."

Benji's eyes softened as he looked at Ethan. "I'm glad you're not."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Ethan took a deep breath, deciding to address the elephant in the room.

"Benji, about what your sister said earlier..."

Benji's gaze locked with Ethan's, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't want to rush into anything, and I don't want you to feel pressured or obligated," Ethan began. "But I do care about you a lot. I've been through a lot in my life, seen things that most people can't even imagine, and I thought I had lost the chance to find something real, something meaningful."

Benji listened intently, his eyes never leaving Ethan's face.

"But being with you, I feel like I've found something special," Ethan continued. "I don't know where this will lead us, but I want to explore it. And I want you to know that you don't have to make any decisions right now. We can take things one step at a time, at a pace that feels right for both of us."

Benji's lips curved into a small smile. "I'd like that," he said softly.

Ethan's heart soared, relieved that Benji seemed to feel the same way. He reached out and took Benji's hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll figure this out together," Ethan said, his voice filled with sincerity.

As the clock struck midnight, signaling the end of not-quite Christmas Day, they exchanged a tender kiss, sealing the beginning of something beautiful between them.