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Ben mostly doesn’t feel forty. He’s rarely been fussed about the number before as things never quite worked out by the age he thought. Though he was sure he'd know a few things once he was four decades into his life. And though many have been checked off the list, he'd rather there were more.
It's late and shooting is done for the day. They were suppose to shoot at least one more page but apparently it requires moonlight and the moon just isn't cooperating. “As long as we get moonlight by wrap we’ll be fine,” Mark said.
“That's alright. Darkness works.” Danny had agreed. “It'll work for the surprise actually.” Then he grinned and was off. That was a half hour ago. Before Ben and the rest of the crew were lead down to a large clearing outside and told to wait.
And there they've been since. Waiting. A few conversations pop up here and there about what the surprise will be. Some try talking to Ben, but soon quickly move away. For Ben it's actually a bit hard to tell who is who in the dark. So many names forgotten without the face to match and jog that last bit of recognition in his brain. His brain is already so full of long monologues and trying desperately to ignore the number forty. So he mostly avoids talking.
He's sure he's coming off like a prick. He begins to heave a sigh and then abruptly stops himself when he realizes even that sounds like an impatient huff. Hopefully everyone realizes it's nothing to do with them. He's just stuck in his head feeling, not regret, rather just sad acceptance that even though he doesn't feel forty, he is forty. And worst of all he's still ridiculously in love with someone he's not married to.
A cool wind blows so everyone huddles closer to keep the chill at bay. He gives a smile into the dark as someone bumps into him and says sorry then continues pushing past him.
His mind remains focused on the number everyone has been shouting at him all day and what exactly it means. He still feels young and full of promise. But what is being young anyway? It’s the ability to make mistakes and not worry about tomorrow because there are so many tomorrows. He’s had many good yesterdays and still has tomorrows.
He’s not dressed as Sherlock now. Thankfully they ended the shoot much earlier and now he’s just in a tee, jacket, and jeans. His wedding ring back in place. Absent-mindedly his thumb starts to play with the ring on his finger. Sliding it around. The reminder of what his life has been these past few years. Sophie, Chris, commitment. Which has been...good. It’s what he wanted and yet when he adds the wife, child, and age forty all together he feels a bit worried about what he has chose with his life. There is weight there. A finality to it all. That's comforting but also...pausing.
“So when’s this getting underway and what the hell is it?” He hadn’t known Martin was stood beside him until this very moment, but there is no mistaking Martin’s voice nor the anxious edge to it.
“No idea. I’m the birthday boy remember? I’m completely in the dark about it.”
“Ha,” Martin says and inches just a bit closer to him and adds. “Well aren’t we all when it comes to you?”
Ben doesn’t know what to say to that. Eyebrows pinch together in confusion and his mind takes a trip around the world in which he tries to figure out just what Martin meant by that. Is there a joke in there somewhere or the double-entendre Martin so likes to play with?
He hadn't seen Martin much that day. They were both on separate locations save one quick scene. And the only other page was the moonlight scene they'd scrapped. He’d missed Martin more than he cared to mention. The day before they'd had scores of scenes together. They waited with each other for each setup. Martin joked about what he’d get Ben for his birthday. Most items he suggested being very filthy things no one save Ben could hear. Ben would laugh as he easily fell into the back and forth of their years of flirtation.
“Nah you'd use teeth,” Ben had said.
Martin laughed then made a face pulling his lips back into his mouth covering his teeth and spoke. “For you I'd cover up.” Ben laughed at the face before Martin leaned over and added. “Unless you'd like me to bite.”
When Martin ran his tongue over his teeth then lips Ben shivered. Then they were called to set. That was always the way. Martin's innuendo, a call to set, and Ben being eternally grateful Sherlock wore a coat that covered up any indiscretions. But right now no one was calling and Ben could actually reply. Yet he has no idea if it meant anything.
By the time he’s well and truly given up on trying to find the meaning in the statement he hears a pop in the sky. And another pop. He turns towards it still not quite sure what to expect when the pops suddenly reveal themselves to be fireworks sparking the night sky. Flying high and then cascading down in a variety of colors that cast small rays of light on the sky and all the people watching. It's rather spectacular.
Ben’s face breaks out into a smile as his eyes fill with more and more visions of the display.
A small one goes off. It's a white one which causes a brighter light, but it's followed by a rather amazing blend of reds and blues. A huge firework bursts then. It's brighter and higher than the rest and seems to take over almost half the sky. The crowd around him ooo’s at that. And he finds himself also forming an “o” with his lips.
“Oh ho!” Martin says. “Look at that one!”
Ben is looking but he can't quite stop himself from what he does next. His takes in Martin in his periphery. He can't see him for long as the firework then falls from the sky and plunges them back into darkness again.
He hears a murmur and someone says it'll be just a second for the next one. So he chances it and fully turns his head from the sky towards Martin.
Just then he hears the pop and the sky lights up once again with bright fireworks giving off light to see those around him. But Ben isn't looking at the fireworks now. Instead he sees Martin is looking back at him as well. A sly smile on his face.
Ben bites his lip. It's a nervous habit but a useful one right now. Because now isn't the time. It's never the time to reveal you've been harboring...what would it be called? A crush? Infatuation? Feelings? Some something for your cast-mate for years.
Martin raises an eyebrow and tips his head toward the sky. Ben gives a smile and a nod and turns his head back around to see. It's lit up with so many colors now. Obviously near the show's finish as he hears so many pops and sees so many fireworks in the sky now. Sideways and cascading fireworks of all types are exploding every second. People begin clapping. Ben joins in too. Finally a shooting star firework falls from the sky, explodes in all directions, and it's over. When he turns back Martin is gone.
“Haaaaaapppppy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear, Beeeen! Happy birthday toooo yooooouuuuuuu!”
Everyone is singing and clapping. Arwel rolls a tower of something towards him and it's still dark until Arwel says, “Now!” And everyone clicks something and small lights illuminate every person around. They're all holding tiny lights. At first Ben squints wondering if they're candles, but soon he sees they're all mini artificial lights in the shape of tea candles. It creates a rather beautiful scene that only gets slightly ruined as the clouds finally decide to move and the moonlight they'd been hoping for finally appears, far after they've called it a day.
With the light he now sees Arwel has pushed a tower of cupcakes. It's not overflowing with candles and mercifully the number forty isn’t mentioned anywhere. Ben raises an eyebrow to Arwel who gives him his well-known rouge’s grin and Ben is eternally grateful. Everyone pockets their now unnecessary lights and they all reach for a cupcake.
Soon a stream of happy birthdays from people gathering cupcakes and patting him on the back is swept over him. He shakes hands. He smiles back. He says thank you more times than he can count.
Mark strides up to him licking the icing from a cupcake and smiles. “Happy Birthday, Little brother. Celebrating soon I hope.”
Ben is sure Sophie has something planned but he isn't sure what. He hadn't decided on anything because he'd been busy trying to pretend this day was far, far away. “No idea,” he says. He gives a shrug of his shoulders. “I only have work planned for now.”
Mark claps a hand on his back and leans in. “All work and no play makes Ben a bit of a twat.”
Ben breaks out into laughter. His eyes go wide then shut as he laughs for a long moment then ashamedly asks, “Have I been just awful today?”
“Gave Martin a run for the award.”
Ben's eyes pop. “Not that bad surely.”
“Well no.” Mark retracts. “But it was noticed.”
“Oh God. I'm sorry. I-”
Mark holds up a hand to stop him speaking. “Most of us have been there already. We all know how you feel. It's not fun even if all else is well. Bad moods and poor decisions typically mark the day.”
“I just,” Ben starts and realizes he's about to whinge for a lengthy period of time. “It'll pass right?”
Mark purses his lips. “Very likely to.”
“How did you get over yours?”
“Whatever do you mean? I'm only 29 you old man!”
Ben's laugh grows. Catching himself only just before it turns into a long giggle session.
Mark laughs along with him for a bit as well and then ends with a hug. “We’ll get you out of here soon,” he says.
As Ben hugs him he notices over Mark’s shoulder that Martin is over with Sarah making her laugh. They catch each other's eye and Martin gives him a nod which just frustrates Ben. It’s so damn cordial and polite. He hates it.
Ben is suddenly filled with the need to walk over to Martin, yank him away and force him to talk. To really talk about everything. To make him discuss this dance they've played for years and the exhaustion of it. Was there ever anything real to it? Was that moment they almost shared in Los Angeles real? Or that time in Berlin?
Ben's mind dwells on those in particular because that was when he was so sure they'd move forward to...something.
In L.A. they'd spent nearly every moment of the Emmy weekend together. They dined together, drank and partied together. And at one point slept in the same bed. Ben somehow finding himself in Martin’s room after the show and the parties. They'd fallen asleep that night talking about the show and their plans for the future. Martin then started talking music and his eyes had lit up. Noticeable even in the slight darkness of the room. Ben hadn't stopped himself then. He reached a hand over to Martin. Martin took it, held it, and kept talking about jazz standards. In the morning Ben went back to his room and they never discussed it again.
In Berlin it was Martin who reached out. Knocking on Ben’s room late in the night, ignoring Ben’s question of if he was okay. Instead he silently undressed and climbed into Ben’s bed and pulled Ben close. They never did anything. Not even kissed. No. But their heads were so close. They shared breathing space. Then Martin’s nose was in the crook of Ben’s neck. He just breathed in then out. Ben shivered and said, “We can't.” Martin didn't respond. He just stayed there in that shared space and moment until they both fell asleep. We can't. Ben's never hated saying two words more.
Ben doesn't want to live with having said those words and he's about to break free from Mark and walk over to Martin and demand they talk. But Mark’s words echo in his brain. A day for bad moods and bad decisions. Fine. Dammit.
When Mark and Ben part Ben tries to school his face but Mark knows immediately. He turns to see where Ben's eyes have landed. He turns back to Ben with a tight smile. Ben and him have only talked about it in general terms and the line has always been that Mark is not a fan of on set relationships or well...one-sided infatuations in this case. Mark’s lips tighten further and Ben's face falls into that of a shamed puppy. He knows better. He really does. In fact he's made a lot of choices because he knows better.
There lies nothing but trouble. There lies heartache. There lies something he can never have. He knows. He knows.
Mark seems to take note of the look of shame and his own face softens in response.
He gives a sigh. “Well. As its your birthday. And--” He looks up at the sky then turns around. “Martin, you well-dressed devil you.”
Martin stops talking with Sarah and walks over carrying his blue striped tea mug. “The nicer the compliment the more frustrated I'm going to be. I know your game, Gatiss.”
Mark smiles. “I don't know what you mean. But my God you look devastatingly handsome today.”
“Oh God.” Martin takes a swig of his tea then another. “What do you want?”
“The light you see. Me and Ben Caron were talking. Now I know we decided to slate it for rehearsal later but this light.” Mark waves a hand towards the now very brightly shining moon. “Quite unlikely to happen again. Care to rehearse and maybe shoot page twenty-nine?”
Ben's eyes narrow as Martin looks down. He could almost swear a blush has tinted his cheeks.
“‘Twenty-Nine.”’ Martin says. The fact that both Mark and Martin knows the page by number is odd. Ben has been busy memorizing the monologue from seventy-two. He actually doesn't know what's on twenty-nine and he says so.
“Twenty-Nine?” Ben asks. Martin looks to Mark. Mark looks at Martin then they simultaneously turn back to Ben.
“The kiss,” Mark and Martin says in unison.
“Ohhhh,” Ben says and then. “Oh.” It’s not a panic that overtakes him but his mind does start reeling at the kiss. The kiss between John and Sherlock, part of a dream sequence during one of Sherlock’s drug-induced hazes. He’d quickly scanned over it. It didn’t have much dialogue so he assumed it would be a quick scene.”
“I thought it was quick.”
“You’re not getting into my John Watson’s pants with a quick kiss..”
“In-into his--what?” Ben flusters out. “Where the hell was that in the script?” Not that he’s averse to it. After years of dancing around and keeping this secret, Ben has no problem finally letting John and Sherlock do everything under the sun and more. But getting semi-nude with Martin and maintaining this charade is not something he’s prepared to do any time soon and definitely not tonight. He gives a hard look to Mark and tries to mentally tell him that he is not okay with this. He can’t do it. And what the hell kind of friend is he? He doesn't even want Ben to feel this way. And-and what if Ben forgets how to act and a moan escapes and, and, and WHAT?!
“Relax Ben,” Mark says. “He’s only joking with you. It’s about a five second kiss, maybe shorter if we have to cut for time. But it’s in the moonlight and we do finally have the moon out. We might want to go for it. That is if both of you are game.”
“I uh-,” Ben says then stops and looks at Martin.
“Well I suppose there’s something about kissing the birthday boy and good luck right? Or if there isn’t I’ve just made up that tradition and I say we all agree it exists.”
“Pretty sure I read something like that once,” Mark says.
“Um...yes.” Ben tries to play along. “I believe we actually studied that tradition at Eton.”
“You didn’t go to Eton,” Martin says.
“I thought we were lying!”
“Not about that,” Martin says with a giggle. His eyes scrunch up and he takes another laugh before clapping his hands on Ben’s back. “Alright let's go rehearse us a moonlight kiss.”
Martin begins walking and Ben can’t figure out what to do so he begins walking too.
“You’ll call us when setup is complete?” Martin calls back without turning around.
“The very moment.” Mark says.
Ben turns around to see Mark who raises a cupcake in Ben’s direction then he turns and shouts. “Okay we’ve got one more scene for the night.”
Ben turns back towards Martin as the groaning and protests from the crowd begins.
They walk for a few minutes, Martin leading the way, Ben following Martin and not knowing where he’s going. They finally wind up near a walkway with a few benches. None of which are taken up save half one with what looks to be a drunk person happily snoozing the night away.
“This’ll do yeah?”
“I um-,” Ben says and looks around. It’s beautiful now with the moon high in the sky. The walkway isn’t far from the water and he can see the reflection in the bay. It won’t just do. It’d be perfect if this were something real. “Yes.”
“Good,” Martin says and he sits.
It’s then that Ben notices Martin still has his cup of tea firmly held in his grasp. He didn’t stop to put the familiar striped cup down. Ben smiles. That mug has been with Martin since the beginning and at this point he’s a bit superstitious about it. Only lets it be used at the end of the series shooting and even then only on rare occasions.
“Can’t believe you still have that,” Ben says.
“I wasn’t going to let mine go the way of yours.” Martin says and he takes a sip. “Can't believe you broke it. Clumsy sod.”
“Hey!” Ben says. “It wasn’t my fault. I was startled.”
“Sure, sure,” Martin says. “Startled by a squirrel in your trailer. Sticking to that story huh?”
“Yep!” Ben says. He won't ever reveal the mystery of the cup’s true disappearance. At least not today.
Martin falls silent. Looks out at the bay. Ben follows his eyeline as well. He’s relaxed in this moment. It’s a rare treat to be totally alone with Martin and he refuses to let it be wasted with nerves. Martin takes another sip, seems to drain the cup and sits the mug down on the pavement.
“Um before we do this. That is..the reason I brought you away over here is because um.” Martin stops and clears his throat. “We should talk about the elephant in the room.”
Ben can currently name about twelve elephants they could discuss and he is hoping the one in particular isn't the ones he fears. That Martin is worried about kissing him because he knows how Ben feels. That Martin is flattered but doesn't return Ben’s weird feelings. That Martin wants to quit the show and never see Ben again.
Ben doesn't want to play a guessing game where every option he can foresee is utter piles of shit. So he settles for saying “which?”
This catches Martin off guard and he laughs at that. Crinkled eyes. Head pitched back. When he finishes he looks at Ben and the world stops for a second. It's a look Ben has always wanted to see from Martin. A look of love.
Martin reaches out a hand to cup Ben’s face. Ben's hand reaches up to cover Martin's. His thumb sliding back and forth as he caresses Martin's hand. God. What is the right move here? Ben wonders. A mere hour ago he was lamenting his age and now he feels like a schoolboy about to finally get his chance to kiss the person of his dreams.
Ben's mouth falls open. He knows his eyes are doing a thing. A thing that says I'm yours if you'll but say the word. Martin leans forward and their foreheads touch. Their lips are so close. Martin moves his lips and it seems he's going to say something. And Ben decides he can't stand to hear whatever it is. Because he’ll take this one kiss. This one present for himself on his fortieth birthday. He’ll grant himself this one true moment. He deserves it. Doesn't he?
Ben closes the gap and kisses Martin. It's a soft slide of lip over lip. Martin doesn't waste time in controlling the kiss. His hand moving to the back of Ben’s head and he tilts it just so. Martin’s lips moving in a long, slow teasing glide. Molding his lips to Ben’s. Ben giving way and allowing,giving, taking.
Martin reaches up with his other hand to cup Ben’s face, to caress his cheek. A single finger dancing back and forth over his cheekbone. It's so soft, so gentle. So exactly alike and unlike Martin all at the same time.
Ben’s mind is busy trying to remember if this is how the scene is in the script. Is this John Watson kissing Sherlock Holmes right now? Is this just rehearsal? If it is then he should stop now. Enough now. He can't stand for this to just be that. He considers pulling back from this kiss, whatever it is.
Martin then parts his lips so easily and in slips tongue motioning Ben’s to join the party. Ben doesn't pull back. He joins in and stops fighting himself, stops thinking. Instead he gives in fully and kisses Martin like he's always wanted to. His hands fly into Martin's hair and he holds firm. He nips as Martin nips. He licks into Martin’s mouth. He breathes his breath. He beats with his heartbeat. He gives himself over to Martin and this moment. He loves this man and right now he’ll pretend just for this moment that Martin loves him too.
But soon Martin is pulling back. He takes a breath, turns away for a moment then back. He smiles at Ben.
“Well,” he says.
Ben's eyes are searching Martin’s. Martin's hands are on Ben's face and shoulder. Ben's hands are still in Martin's hair. In this moment Ben has no idea what to say. He bites his lip and waits.
“That was some elephant,” Martin says.
Ben says, “Oh.” The elephant of the kiss. The anticipation of it. Nothing more.
“If there’s any paparazzi around we just made them a fortune.” Martin jokes. Ben makes himself laugh.
“Yeah” is all Ben can say.
“Ben, we can’t--”
“I know,” Ben says. He knows the end of the sentence and it covers a multitude.’Ben, we can't do this. Ben, we shouldn't do this. Ben, it's just an onset crush that's gone on too long. Ben, we are just doing a scene. Ben, we are friends.’
Martin's eyes search his then settle. They both seem to understand this moment can't go any further. But Martin pitches forward again. He kisses Ben slowly at first then punishingly. Ben’s chest is heaving as he breathes hard through his nose. He wants to crawl out of his skin it's so fucking good, so fucking perfect. Martin's hands begin to drift downward and Ben moans audibly once his left palm settles on Ben’s leg, perilously close.
It's Ben who pulls back then. He takes a much needed long breath and tries to calm himself. Martin doesn't waste much time though and suddenly they're back at it.
“We have to-” Martin eeks out before Ben captures his mouth again. God he can't get enough. He’ll never get enough.
“Yes. We will.” Ben confirms their plans to stop. Soon. Very soon.
“I just-I have to know one thing,” Martin says and Ben pulls back to let him speak. “Why didn't you try this before you were married?”
A cold water is doused down Ben’s spine. What the hell is he doing?
“I,” Ben pulls back completely. His hands fall from Martin's body. He looks down. “You weren’t…” He starts to say and it peters out. Cowardice rears its head yet again.
Martin's eyes widen. He envelops his whole bottom lip and seems to bite hard.
Ben looks at him confused.
“I-,” Martin says. “Ya know we’ve been dancing around this for a while. Part of me had a bet with myself. Would Gatiss write John and Sherlock kissing before we would. And I don't know. It seems like we probably should have gotten here quicker than the fictional characters.”
“We have roles to play too,” Ben says with a shrug. They do. Martin-- devoted father and unassuming actor. Ben--devoted father and newlywed.
“True,” Martin says. “So I suppose we have a choice to make here.”
“What's that?”
“We use the rest of this time to snog like school kids so that when we shoot the John and Sherlock kiss we don't look like we’re desperate to shag each other. Or...”
“Or?”
“We have a real conversation about how we feel about each other.” Martin punctuates his statement with a raise of brows indicating the obvious fact that this is the harder choice.
“Right?” Ben says. “Is there an option C?”
“I'm glad you asked. There is. “
“And that is…?”
“We postpone everything until the wrap party.”
“But-.”
Mark appears then. A sly smirk on his face. “Gentleman we’re ready.”
“So soon?” Ben asks.
“It's been nearly a half hour, ” Mark says.
“Has it?”
“Come come the whole crew hates me. Let's show them two hot men snogging to make it worth their while.”
Martin stands. Ben does too.
Nothing resolved and Ben isn’t sure what will happen in a few weeks at the wrap party. But in this very moment he does feel forty and he’s okay with it. Because he feels alive with hope and now he knows Martin's lips are so soft.
The End.