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Ben is, perhaps, a little too enthralled about meeting his internet girlfriend, that he doesn’t notice the ice on the road. As he spins around to shout his thanks at the driver of the Piaggio, he slips. "Grazie mille—whoa!"
From the truck bed, Kenji dashes to catch Ben, before his back can meet the frozen asphalt. Holding him up by the underarms, Kenji groans, "Dude, be careful," as Ben sheepishly steadies himself, turning to face him. "You've got precious egg cargo!"
The egg pokes out of the unzipped dork pouch, and Kenji, feeling the need to secure it, reaches over to pat it a few times. Ben's gaze curiously flits down to the hand at his chest. Their faces are close, unusually so, and Kenji can feel his pulse shuddering in an uncouth way. Something gnaws at the depths of his stomach, like the feeling of hunger; of wanting more. When he pulls back, Ben follows—and their eyes meet.
It's a split second suspended beneath a glass sky, brittle light gracing the edges of Ben's face. There's something oddly vulnerable about his expression: the gentle furrow of the brows, and the upward tilt of grey eyes, searching. Then time releases itself, swept back into motion by the turn of the head. Ben starts for the staircase, zipping that stupid pouch of his closed, keeping the egg safely tucked away.
Meanwhile, Kenji watches him go, lingering.
They're all gathered around the fireplace, as Ben informs Gia—in a rather dramatic version—of everything's that happened so far. Yaz's arm is propped up on Sammy's shoulder as they sit on the couch, amused by Ben's storytelling. Darius is resting in an armchair. And Kenji's standing off to the side, hands propped up on the back of a chair, restless.
"But, we came here to hopefully get to the bottom of it," Ben is saying as he places his hands on Gia's shoulders, finishing off his recap, "and figure out what to do next."
Gia smiles warmly. "If anyone can, it's you, Benissimo."
She moves her hand to settle on the curve of his jaw, drawing their faces together. Ben looks at her, like she's the home he's been searching for, dark-eyed and longing. He leans closer, and closer still, and that's when Kenji decides he's had enough of their antics—and sticks his hand out. "Hey!" he says, interrupting the moment. The two of them pivot their heads to stare at Kenji. "Watch the egg," he snaps, tugging the lapel of Ben's jacket, unconsciously pulling him further away from Gia, "Benissimo."
Kenji trusts Ben to keep the egg safe—seriously, he does—but it seems that whenever he's around Gia, he forgets about everything else. And that really, really bothers Kenji for some reason.
When Kenji returns from his disastrous breakfast trip, he's greeted by an overturned pot—and an ankylosaurus. As he kneels down, the tiny thing stares up at him with its big, dark eyes, chittering softly. Relief sweeps over him like a tempest, carrying away all of his worst fears. Tears curl in the corner his eyes as he laughs. His baby is okay.
Tenderly, Kenji scoops it up, lifting it to eye-level. His voice trembles. "You made it, little buddy."
Laughing again, chest brimming with relief and excitement, he holds his baby close. It nuzzles against his neck, then against his cheek, continuing to happily chitter. Behind him, Darius lets out a messy sniffle. He rests a hand on Kenji's shoulder when he gets up, proudly smiling the whole way. Yaz and Sammy watch from the far side of the room, eyes reddened.
Carrying the ankylosaurus with both hands, Kenji offers it over to Ben, who eagerly picks it up like a burger. Ben's face lights up as he talks to the little guy. "Welcome to the Camp Fam," he murmurs, trailing off, "Uh…"
Kenji looks down at the baby in Ben's hands, extending a hand over. Pointer finger stroking the smooth horns, and thumb accidentally grazing Ben's knuckles, Kenji answers, "Smoothie."
Ben beams. "Perfect." Redirecting his gaze towards their newest family member, he says, "Welcome to the Camp Fam, Smoothie," before glancing back at Kenji. There's something about the way he looks, bathed in the crackling firelight, so awfully close that Kenji could count the number of trembling heartbeats between them, flustered and out of sync.
Ben's voice cracks as he adds, "He wouldn’t be here without you, Kenj."
"Oh, stop," Kenji says, putting a hand on his shoulder. The ache in his stomach returns; a fragile pain, yearning. He wants this moment to keep going—and going, and going.
Nonna, cradling Smoothie to her chest, slips on the ice as she's trying to back away. The plaza isn't big enough for all of them—the pack of atrociraptors advancing on the pyroraptor, Nonna between them, and Camp Fam, plus Gia, hovering a few feet away.
"Nonna!" Ben cries.
Kenji watches as everything unfolds in slow motion: Nonna squeezing her eyes shut, shielding Smoothie in a hug, and Ben, sprinting into the fray, and his own hand, outstretched. The word rips out of his throat, "NO!"
He follows, or tries to, taking a few wobbly steps forwards. Ben—sweet, naïve, brave Ben, who never wants to see others get hurt—charges past an atrociraptor, and hauls Nonna over his shoulder. Smoothie tumbles out of her hands, letting out alarmed chirps. Kenji steadies himself, pulse roaring in his ears, and dashes forward to rescue his baby.
They reunite at the outskirts of the plaza, perched behind some barrels. Kenji's eyes are drawn over to Ben. How is it that he can stay so composed when his loved ones are in danger? To be brave in the face of any storm, to persevere, and to proudly wear his heart on his sleeve. Hugging Smoothie close, Kenji tries to ignore his trembling hands.
Two days later, Kenji parts ways with the others. It's a cold morning, dull blue sky stretching in every direction. There's something vaguely melancholic about it—the same weather that had been there while saying hello, was also there for saying goodbye. He's exchanging one last handshake with Darius, when Ben approaches, carrying Smoothie with him. "Take good care of the Smoothster."
Ben still holds the ankylosaurus like a burrito, as he hands him over to Kenji. This time, the touch on the back of his hand feels intentional. The brushing of knuckles between the spaces of his fingers, rough edges kissing the soft underbellies, an embrace that says something more than words could ever form.
"Give my love to Bumpy," Ben says, drawing his hands back.
Kenji looks up at him, something raw and earnest flickering in his eyes. "Done and done."
Supporting Smoothie with one hand, Kenji extends his other hand towards Ben for a casual bro hug—and Ben wraps both of his arms around his shoulders. Kenji tucks his head into Ben's jacket, hand tightening on his back, hearts meeting halfway. They're impossibly close, closer than when Ben and Gia had been when he'd interrupted them for the egg's sake, and Ben smells so cozy and familiar—and then it hits him, that maybe it was never just about Smoothie. The unsatisfied craving, the aches that haunt him at night, so carefully managed once, suddenly begs to be released from its skeleton cage.
Kenji wonders if Ben notices his sweaty skin, or the quickened breaths, as he dazedly pulls away. If Ben does, he doesn’t say it, instead smiling kindly as he backs up to the driver’s door. As he turns to enter the truck, Kenji wills himself to speak. "Ben—wait," he croaks, and Ben pauses, truck door half-open, curiously tilting his head to hear what else he has to say. "Stay safe, okay?"
Ben nods, a silent promise that a future awaits.
Then, he's gone, whooping, "Al presto!" as the truck rattles down the road, Darius waving from the back. From the sidewalk, Kenji lingers, until the vehicle is just a red speck in the distance.