Chapter Text
It had been weeks of planning, but the day was finally here. Celine and Damien’s 23rd birthday. It was going off without a hitch, and it had all been because of Ben. Mark had asked him to plan as many engaging activities as possible. Ben had taken the orders to heart as he got decorations, all the best records, and as much alcohol as he could get his hands on. Mark had made that part incredibly clear.
“Can’t be a party without libations!”
“Sir, I’m not sure Damien and Celine are gonna want illegal substances at their party.”
“Oh shush! Those two are such tight asses. They need someone looking out for their best interests. People are coming here for a good time. And a good time they shall have!” Mark poked Ben’s nose teasingly as he walked off & Ben was left wondering how good an idea this really was.
But Ben trusted Mark so, against his better judgment, he contacted his sources and prepared a wide array of beverages for the guests present. Among some other equally questionable substances. Ben had bought cocaine for the inevitable hangovers. It seemed some other guests had different ideas on its uses, though. Mark was thrilled he had come out triumphant.
It was rather late in the evening now and everyone had headed home save for Damien, Celine, and William. Ben was standing watch in the corner as a game of Rummy was unfolding in front of him. Damien was tapping his fingers on the table rhythmically as he stared at the cards in front of him. The Colonel had a knack for hedging his bets, which had him in the lead by a significantly wide margin. Celine had the second largest winnings and the most calculated look on her face.
Ben’s eyelids were dragging him down and he had a rather dull throb of a headache, but he was still on the job and he wasn’t about to head to bed anytime soon. He shook his head and snapped himself back to reality. He was suddenly aware of the presence next to him.
He looked over and Mark smiled up at him. It was such a dumb expression. An expression that he knew all too well was plastered on him because he’d downed an inordinate amount of alcohol throughout the night.
“Having fun, master?”
“You did a splendid job, my good sir.” Mark's voice had a fake accent to it as he spoke. There was a noticeable slurring to his words especially as Mark pronounced his S’s, which Ben didn’t take to be a good sign.
Ben snickered though. “You holding up alright there?”
“Oh, me?” Mark guffawed. “I’ve never been better.” His hand was on Ben’s bicep now as he nodded. “Yup, I’m doing magnificently.” That was not a word Mark could say in his condition.
Ben pursed his lips. “I’m glad, master. The others seem to be enjoying the festivities too.”
Damien let out an exasperated groan as the cards were revealed and Celine smiled before taking the pot.
“Ha!” Mark shook his head. “Damien’s just mad he’s losing.”
“I am not losing!” Damien shouted defiantly. The Colonel smirked as he tauntingly waved the chips in front of him.
“Dames couldn’t even be bothered to be first when we were born,” Celine sneered. “Don’t expect to win anytime soon, little brother.”
“Oh, come on! That’s hardly fair. You’re older by ten minutes.”
“Sore loser.” Mark whispered, leaning in.
There was a pause as Ben smiled and realized Mark was still in his personal space. He didn’t mind it. Quite the contrary. Ben didn’t much like people touching him, but somehow Mark always managed to be that exception. The continued warmth against Ben’s side felt especially comforting given how exhausted he was.
“Not interested in playing?” Ben asked.
Mark shook his head. “I find the game to be beneath me, frankly. I’m too good at pattern recognition.” Mark tapped his forehead with his finger.
Ben made a face like he knew better. “Of course you are, master.” The times they had played chess together rather proved Mark's point moot.
“What? I am!” Mark said with a playful punch to Ben’s shoulder.
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“Good! Good.” Mark nodded to himself as he leaned back against Ben.
The moment continued to drag on for ten or twenty minutes as the players sat there teasing each other and making their bets.
Ben had a feeling Mark was tapped out for the evening since he’d slipped into silence and seemingly refused to leave his side.
“Are you ready to head up soon, Master Mark?”
Mark didn’t say much, just a noise of disagreement as Ben noticed Mark’s fingers interlocking with his. It took a second to process what he was doing but as Ben looked over he realized Mark wasn’t even looking at him. He was just staring intently at the game of cards, either incredibly deep in thought or completely devoid of it. Given the alcohol, he assumed the latter.
Mark tended to be a very touchy person but usually reserved those times to private intimate moments. Ben remembered a very specific summer day in their college years, while on a walk around Harvard, Mark had simply taken his hand without question. No words. No acknowledgment that it was anything other than normal. Mark had been sober then, unlike now.
Ben wasn’t about to reject the affection, but he did worry someone else might notice. Especially Celine. He remembered her jealousy streaks being particularly bad when she and Mark had first started dating. Ben had a lot of respect for Celine. Perhaps more than Mark. No, that felt wrong to say. He feared Celine more, is perhaps the correct turn of phrase.
She looked rather focused on the game in front of her — thankfully — so Ben let his stomach settle for a moment. And then Mark was tugging at his hand.
He looked over, and as soon as he met Mark’s eyes his mind stopped working altogether. Mark’s lips were on his and suddenly he felt like he was on a high unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Time had frozen in place, the moment stretching out in every direction. Mark’s touch felt like they were melting together into one single person, as if that was the only natural possible outcome.
Ben’s face was red, the jolt of dopamine a familiar yet entirely new sensation. He wasn’t exactly reciprocating the kiss but he wasn’t pushing Mark off him either. He was just… there. The warmth was settling through his entire chest now, not just his side this time. Mark was holding him so softly, his one hand over his heart, his other still interlaced in his fingers. This is what Ben expected love must feel like.
There was shouting. Ben could hear shouting. But it felt so distant and blurry. Like someone had buried him under sand and he was way too far down to surface.
And then a burst of cold as someone wretched Mark off of him. He could make out the vague shape of Damien standing there holding Mark in his arms trying to restrain him. Mark was simply smiling. He was smiling like a goddamn idiot.
He could hear laughing now amidst the shouting. It sounded like the Colonel but he’d yet to gain control back over his body, so he couldn’t turn to look. He was just staring at Mark’s stupid incredulous smile.
Shapes were moving in front of him. There was so much talking. He was sure they were talking to him. About him? He wasn’t sure.
A sharp painful sound snapped through Ben’s head as a flurry of movement surrounded Mark. That was Celine. Ben was sure of that much.
Next thing he knew he was being pushed out of the room by someone and hushed into the recesses of the darkened kitchen. The Chef had gone to bed hours ago and the room was a mess of pots and pans Ben would have to clean later. A man in a dark suit was sitting him down before hurriedly rushing off back to the others.
Ben just sat there, his vision slowly coming back as he realized what had just happened. He shook his head again and sat up a little in his seat.
He brought his hand to his chest as he licked and then pursed his lips. His heart was sitting in the pit of his stomach now. His head was swirling with a million little thoughts.
He was shocked, he was confused, he was scared, maybe mad, he was… He was painfully aware that amidst everything he was feeling was something new. Something he hadn’t felt before.
It was like a little rose poking out from between the cracks in the sidewalk. It was something so beautiful and yet so fragile. Something that wasn’t meant to be there in the first place.
Ben blinked again as he frowned.
Oh no, I love Mark.