221B

Bentley ran his fingers through his rather fluffy mop of hair as he tried to find some new words. Words he maybe knew but didn't realize he had within him. Ones that wouldn't hurt the only person he was genuinely afraid of hurting. He had no desire to harm his parents, obviously, but they were different somehow.

Baldric had become something of an enigma in just a few days. He was something like the topic of Astronomy, in the sense that he could at once be a science and a mystery. He had a way of working and sometimes Bentley understood. But most often, there were things that even Ben, as someone who felt entirely attached and as someone who loved the man in question, could not follow. But if Baldric was any specific part of Astronomy, he was the planet to which Bentley had been inexplicably drawn. The gravity had pulled him in, and there would be no escape. Not even an asteroid tossed by the Ministry could distort the path of his rotating around that planet.

The problem, then, was finding a way to phrase what was plaguing him as he sat there. Baldric did not trust his own words, it seemed. Otherwise, he didn't trust Bentley, and the older man was not interested in considering that option. But how could he open his mouth and say that he didn't want to waste the woman's time? That he would wonder after his own mum in seeing Baldric's? That he had no idea what his parents looked like or acted like or if they were even alive to look or act like anything?  Instead, he settled for replying to Baldric's next words.

"If you don't want me to, I won't." He whispered, unable to explain his quiet mode of speech, even to himself. "It isn't that I don't want to know you in that way. Never think that. I just don't know... I don't known how to handle something like that. I mean, I feel a need to- to tell you about my birth parents but, well... I know nothing about them. I don't know what to do around real parents. Nancy and Derek accept me as an adult, not as their child. It's not the same. Derek needed an heir and I needed people in my life. What we have is not what you have, Bae. And I don't understand it. What you have, that is."

Shaking his head, Ben frowned as Baldric fell back again. He felt like the blonde had unwittingly become a yo-yo with no intention of turning back into the man he truly was. "Stop it, Baldric." He snapped, annoyance shining through regardless of how underserving of Bentley's anger the younger man was. "Nothing that is important to you is stupid, so stop calling it that. I can't tell if you're trying to get me to say something specific, or if you're still miffed about this arrangement. I love you, and I'll always think you're the top, so stop telling yourself you're the bottom. It's completely absurd to imagine that between the pair of you would be the one needing to question himself. You're sensible and you know who you are. Don't let my past and my confusion make you think otherwise."

The change of topic was almost expected, but still struck Bentley as wrong. He knew that their trip to stay with Derek and Nancy would cause questions. They thought that Baldric was a darling, even if Derek wasn't quite sure about Ben showing his affection for the blonde. But after trying to explain their situation to the pair of them, Bentley could only be glad that they did not judge him too harshly. The Ashfords, too, were part of the mixed up Wizarding World which Bentley and Baldric felt so confined to. The men were just lucky that both adults agreed with their decision enough to not chide them for it. "We can go in the morning if you choose to stay the night. Otherwise we can go around lunch."

Although he tried to show his enthusiasm for it, Bentley found himself glancing towards the door. He had no problem with leaving a note, and doubted that Rose would truly care. Letting his hand comb through his hair again, Ben decided to just leave the decision to Baldric as he stood to dig in his drawers for something proper to wear to bed.

With a flinch came the realisation that there was a lot of selfishness in him along with an unwillingness to see beyond his own so dramatic plight. Despite the rightness of Bentley’s words, perfectly acceptable though they were, there was nothing rational within Baldric that was left to accept them. He’d been pulled to the point of snapping by external factors that he hadn’t been able to control, that he hadn’t even been able to extract himself from for just a second. Every wave followed and was followed in turn by another. He couldn’t bear the idea of Bentley being alone, growing up alone, but he also couldn’t cope with the idea that somehow his family was the nuclear – the ideal and the right thing that someone should aspire to. Flippantly Baldric found himself wishing he hadn’t been born into that house, born into that family, because anything was better, even orphan-hood, than the way he had lived for the last eighteen years of his life. He didn’t need any more of the aggravation. So, arguably, one would question why he’d want to insert himself back into the circus of his mother’s life and, by extension, the intolerable and insatiable vexation. Baldric didn’t know the answer to the question. He supposed he still needed them. His explosive arguments with his father and the pitiful half conversations with his mother was the way he had learnt how to live his life and if he needed to touch home with that, no matter how permanently scalded he felt by them, Ben was still right. But the fact of the matter was, Baldric honestly didn’t know what he had himself. Worse still, he had no clue whether he wanted it, either, though all of his actions were indicative of an affirmative reply.

“I want you to,” Baldric murmured, his voice falling to match Ben’s. “I just…”

Baldric closed his eyes, electing to button his lip and keep quiet long enough for Ben to speak. He blinked open his eyes when Bentley snapped at him and he opened his mouth to defend himself, his eyebrows furrowing as he launched himself back up into a sitting position but all countenance was robbed from him as the piece was said and then as easily as he himself had, Bentley moved onto the preferred realm of discussion, quitting the harder conversation all together but precipitating a difficult one to come – did Baldric stay or did he go?

Grounding out a half sigh, also perhaps a growl, Baldric swallowed back his anger, his fear and everything associated with what made him the son of his parents. A part of him was desperate to cry. Another part was livid that Ben would even so much as suggest that Baldric had so much as a clue as to who he was. He didn’t have it worked out, contrary to popular belief. Ben wasn’t alone in that assumption, either. Baird and Sonia hadn’t expected their friend drunk and on their doorstep, blithering uselessly about things not being right at him. Baird whose father had never acknowledged him in the first place. Sonia whose whole family history was as much of a mess as everyone else’s who had a speck of pure blood in them. Baldric hated it. They’d known him arrogant. They’d known him smirking and brash and lively. Seeing him pitiful, sobbing, lonely was a different matter altogether. But after two nights of sleeping on the sofa they’d let him go, unable to do anything for him. Bentley had found him out of his tree at a point in time when home wasn’t a viable option, when the yarn was unravelling and suddenly there was this great mystery within regards to what was right, wrong, desired and not. Now, he sat without so much as the only crutch in the world beside him. He couldn’t have Ben wholly, not in the way he wanted. So he didn’t know who he was. He hadn’t ever done the alone bit before. He didn’t know how to define himself. So much had been changed for him that he wasn’t even sure he’d managed to acquiesce to the decision made.

Lifting himself up off of the bed, Baldric dug his feet into the soft carpet like he’d done so many times, trailing his familiar route across the room, round the end of the bed, diverting what would have originally been a small pile of books that had been on his bedside table but had to be moved after an afternoon trip to the bookshop resulted in more being bought and neither man had been keen on the idea of putting them away until Baldric had to move out and now they were gone – but still he traipsed around the area as if they were still there and Baldric reached out for Ben, curling his arms around the man’s middle and pulling his back to his chest.

“I knew you always preferred me on top,” Baldric retorted saucily, nibbling on the little stretch of skin between his lover’s hairline at the nape of his neck and the shell of his ear. “I can’t believe you told me off with that.”

His hand wandered across Ben’s chest, always steady in this endeavour, and he tickled at the man’s belly, his fingertips flirting with the line of hair that trailed down from his bellybutton, disappearing beneath the hem of his trousers. He couldn’t stay angry forever. He wasn’t angry at all, really. It was all frustration, manifesting in an ugly way that he couldn’t quite dispense with. He wanted to soothe the tension, though. He’d always preferred it when he and Ben had just laughed, relaxed. He liked it those nights when they’d sit up reading together, not talking but often with their heads resting together, their brows furrowed at their respective books or newspapers or magazines, one or the other often picking out a little anecdote to read before they sharing a lingering kiss and electing to abandon the books in favour for, often, just snuggling down and going to sleep, little else sometimes. He’d liked that. Loved it, rather. He couldn’t think of a better way to live.

“Look,” Baldric rested his chin on Ben’s shoulder, mulling over his next words. “My family is not what you think it’s meant to be. They’re not real parents. They just get the luxury of saying they made me. I have my own ideas about what a family is and what parents are meant to be and they don’t tick those boxes. But I need to go and see my mum and work out whether I want to go and do it again or whether it’s better just to stay away and I am not brave enough to do that on my own – I need you, Ben. I want you to be there if you want to be. Okay? They’re not good parents. She’s ill. He hates me. It’s never been alright. It’s not the way we’d all like to imagine. It’s dysfunctional beyond repair. I don’t really want you to see it. But at the same time I need to see my mum and I just…ugh,” Baldric sighed. “I wish it wasn’t so complicated.”

Unconsciously, Baldric had begun to run circles around his lover’s stomach. A kiss was dropped to Ben’s shoulder and he sighed again, his brow furrowing as he tried to work out what the purpose of this all was. The bickering got them nowhere – it only upset them more. But there was more to it than that. Ben had stated his concerns, his fears. Baldric hadn’t exactly taken them and done anything with them. He’d ignored them if nothing else and he knew they needed to be addressed. He didn’t know how, though, not really. It was a mismanagement that showed his youth somewhat but he endeavoured to try and muddle his way through somehow. He needed to. All of this needed to be resolved before bed.

“Your birth parents …” Baldric picked over his words, second guessing himself as ever. “Don’t even really constitute as parents, Ben. They let you go. They made that choice. That’s not on you. Nancy and Derek wanted you as you were. They took you in and made you theirs and even if it was somewhat belated by that point they still wanted to fill those shoes and make you feel loved and, Ben, they’re the closest damn thing I’ve ever seen to a decent pair of parents in a long, long time. Okay, but you have to understand that just because mine shagged it up and turned me out … just because they kept me doesn’t get them blue ribbons at the fair or brand me a success. I am not who I wanted to be. I never had the bollocks to tell my dad that all I wanted to do was go to uni, study magical history and maybe teach after I’d done the marriage and babies bit. I should’ve. Then maybe it would’ve been alright. Maybe they would’ve both been better and nothing would have happened the way it did but it did happen. They’re not parents they’re just people. Nancy and Derek are people who became parents because they wanted to have that role and be there for you because they loved you, regardless of their intentions at first.”

“I love you,” Baldric returned finally, squeezing Ben gently before extending a hand and grabbing a t-shirt out of the drawer Ben had opened. He took his wand out of his back pocket and, flicking it at the door, locked the offending thing and threw up a harmless ward that was usually used to keep animals out but generally just kept everyone and everything from wandering too close, suddenly finding something else plaguing their minds that had become highly important. He dropped the wand on the top of the chest of drawers and kissed Ben’s neck again before padding back to the bed, divesting himself of his clothes only to replace his shirt with one of Ben’s, revelling in the smell.

Flopping down onto the bed, Baldric sighed out an expulsion of contentedness. For, he was content in actual fact. Being back with Ben was all he needed to be happy. He was right, too. No one would miss him if he wasn’t at the Hayes house for one night. He was where he was meant to be, here. He was sure Elliot would be able to put the pieces together. He somewhat missed the books on the bedside table. When he turned his head to look, only the lamp twinkled merrily at hi. His glasses would rest on the top of it, too, but they weren’t there anymore. Occasionally some filter tips could be found on the side, too, though given that he didn’t smoke anywhere but on the kitchen counter out the window he had no clue how it got there. It was all gone now, though, and he did recognise that twinge of sadness in knowing that it was all in a bag under his bed. The most he had on the table beside his bed at Bridget’s was his glasses, yes, and a glass of what had once been water but had been long drunk. It was impersonal. There was something homely about this flat, even if it was just a handful of walls and a noisy neighbour upstairs.

“Why do you,” he asked after a moment, feeling all of a sudden rather abstract and strange. “Love me, I mean?”

“You know full well that’s not what I was getting at, you toss.” Bentley grumbled. Even though his words had a frustrated tone to them, the corners of his mouth quirked up. His hands paused in their pushing through the clothes in his drawer as Baldric’s words started again, trying to ignore both the wandering fingers and the pained sound caused by the words that escaped the younger man’s lips.

A guilty tug in his stomach reminded Bentley that he was not always right, as he so wished he was. As he so desired to be. He had known from the start that Baldric did not have the life either of them wished for him, considering the circumstances of their first meeting. He could not find the words, the phrases, to make it better. Instead of speaking, however, Ben just released the fabric between his fingers and pressed his palms against the skin of Baldric’s arms where they wrapped round him.

I love you.

Ben didn’t care how many times the words were said; each time had a different sort of meaning, a different feeling to them. This one spoke volumes of pain among the need to comfort each other. Bentley’s eyes closed as he ducked his chin upon losing the heat of Baldric which had curled around his middle. His breath left him all at once when he realized that his secret could not wait until they met with his parents. That would cause anger from the person he was tired of hurting. Tired of losing.

“Firstly,” he started, reaching into the drawer and finally pulling out the shirt he had intended to take. “You know I would support any future you want for yourself, regardless of your father’s wishes. Regardless of mine.” Turning around, his gaze alighted on the blonde where he sat, donning one of Ben’s shirts and looking like he was precisely where he belonged. And maybe he was. Bentley certainly would say he was.

“Secondly,” he took a step or two to place himself in front of the bed. “I am not so sure that my folks are certain about me.” His chin fell to his chest again, eyes watching his fingers fumble over the fabric of the tee. “Last week, Derek suggested that I look for them. Uh, my birth parents, that is. And, um,” he looked up and locked eyes with Baldric, “I’m going to. I’m not sure if it’s just me wanting to placate Nancy and Derek or… just wanting to know. But yeah, I don’t know that they would agree with what you’ve said. Maybe they’ve changed their minds. Either way, I’ve spoken to someone, and she’s going to try and find them. Or find out what happened to them.”

It would be curious, he mused, if both sets of parents were aware of their son. If he were aware of them. What would he call them? Bentley pushed away the question in favor of walking around to his side of the bed and picking up the previously thrown copy of the Prophet to place it on the bedside table. Baldric’s sudden question caught his attention easily, making him pause.

He blinked once, hard, before shrugging his shirt on and ridding himself of the trousers he had donned that morning, leaving him suitably dressed for crawling under the covers and gazing at Baldric with a sort of wonder. “You cannot possibly imagine that I could somehow put the answer to that question into words. I couldn’t manage it no matter how many I used. This – us – it isn’t… I don’t know how to put it... It’s me looking for you in the morning even though I know you’re not here. It’s me having a go at Red because she makes some comment about us. I don’t want anyone else to snatch my shirts or read over my shoulder or to argue with me. I don’t want anyone else to sit next to me and watch reality shows that are actually loads of rubbish, but yell at the lot of them anyway. I don’t want anyone else shoving their way into my flat and assaulting me – not that I’m complaining. The way you assault people is something I could never complain about, provided no one gets assaulted but me. I don’t even want anyone else to touch me. I don’t want anyone else… at all.”

Ben’s head sank into his pillow as he looked up at Baldric, brows tugging together in guilt once more. “One day I’ll figure how to say it properly... I’ll write it all out and then you can toss it or save it until you can properly embarrass me with it. Whichever you like. But for now you’ll just have to trust me.”

The knowledge that he could send the same question back at his Gryffindor was not passed over. But Bentley didn’t think he wanted to ask. Not just then, when things were wrong. He knew exactly what he felt, but he still could not find the words. What would Baldric do when he was lost for words, as well? (If he was). No, he didn’t need to ask. The fact that the question had been posed at all was answer enough for him. The words wouldn’t have fought their way to the surface if Baldric hadn’t wondered them before, if he hadn’t considered the possibility that perhaps Ben didn't feel the way he did. The potential for that issue had been there originally, sure.

Months ago.

But now, the dark-haired man merely let out a breath and waited. Waited and hoped his attempt was sufficient for the night. If not, he didn’t quite know what he would do – what else could be said than everything on his mind? Everything in his heart?

“You love it,” Baldric responded glibly, pushing away, his hands trailing absently over Ben’s backside before falling away as he returned to the bedside, getting himself ready for bed. He didn’t feel weary now, for the first time in the last handful of days, but he did feel as though he’d sleep well instead of being wracked with exhaustion and unable to soothe it with slumber. No, wrapped up under their bedcovers, safe in the knowledge that Ben was actually beside him, he would sleep for days, recharge his batteries and feel whole again. Because that’s what Ben did: he made him feel whole, right and steady, as though he could take on anything, everything and so long as he was with Ben, he’d succeed, too. Nothing could prevent it.

Glasses off, abandoned frivolously across the bedside table like they had been so many times before, and arms behind his head, his ankles crossed at the bottom of the bed, Baldric was the epitome of relaxation, blessedly contented and ludicrously pleased with himself knowing that he was where he was meant to be. With a smile to himself, he closed his eyes and sighed gently, happily, before reopening them at the sound of Bentley’s rather precise discourse marker. Baldric got up a little, bending his spine and lifting himself to sit, his hands falling onto his ankles, his left hand index finger picking idly at a graze just above his ankle where he’d fallen over on the first night of being at Bridget’s house – completely bladdered, too. Now, however, he was right of mind and as he inspected the scab and when he looked up at Ben, his eyebrows rose a little bit.

“What?” He breathed, disbelief riddled across his face, then furthering that, concern found its way there. Baldric swallowed, steeling himself against the rush of fear that rumbled through him for Ben’s sake. If there was anything he didn’t want, he didn’t want them to be the kind of people that Ben must have imagined giving him up as a child. Yet, at the same time he didn’t want them to be put together upstanding individuals capable of caring for an infant but neglecting to do so for their son. Desperately he wished that Ben would change his mind because what he’d find would only go on to upset him whether they were good people or otherwise, capable or not. He couldn’t decide what eventuality would be worse.

“I’m coming with you then,” he said firmly, his brows furrowing. “I’m not going to let you do this on your own, Ben.”

Baldric’s expression softened as Ben began to speak and he smiled a little. He watched as Ben relaxed down into the cushions and Baldric leaned over, taking his lover’s lips with his own. Baldric’s hand touched at his cheek and he smoothed his fingers across the elder man’s cheekbone. He lifted his head a little, his smile returning, lighting his face in a soft glow, and he nudged Ben’s nose with his own, returning his lips to Ben’s, laying down beside him.

“That’s enough,” he murmured. “That’s it in its entirety, isn’t it? It’s the fact that it’s not right when we’re not together.”

Sliding under the covers, Baldric wound an arm around his lover’s waist and snuggled close to him, burying his face into Ben’s neck. He sighed softly again, revelling in the proximity and he draped one of his legs over Ben’s, trapping him in many ways but keeping him close. He was determined not to let him go tonight no matter how hot either of them became. Tomorrow night was for the rolling and rumbling around in bed that often happened. It seemed as though their slumbering selves rowed more than their wakeful selves did as often they would wake up miles apart from each other with the covers in a state. Thankfully it never translated to anything else.

“I was thinking,” he mumbled into Ben’s skin, “of applying to the magical uni in London part time so I can keep working full time but still do some stuff. Helpfully, I reckon the History of Magic N.E.W.T went well so if all goes alright then I’ll be a proper student, too, come autumn.” He chuckled a little, his fingers sliding under Ben’s shirt. “S’not important, though. Not when you’re here for me to assault as you so dryly put it.” Baldric smirked and lifted his head up, bringing his lips back to Ben’s. “Or shall I let you off for tonight?” He inquired, his wandering fingers betraying his intention to do the exact opposite, “and catch up tomorrow?”

Bentley chose to ignore the fact that Baldric did nothing to assuage his fears regarding Derek and Nancy, instead focusing on the words that came in place of chiding ones regarding his lack of faith. The shake of Ben’s head was not a show of rejection, but rather a pronouncement of awe and surprise. “That’ll be it then, won’t it? You’ve got someone for me to meet, and I’ve got someone to tell us what she can discover about mine.” It felt wrong to address his parents as something belonging to him, but didn’t they? In a way, he supposed they had to, even if they hadn’t accepted it, themselves.

“Enough.” Bentley repeated quietly, blinking purely due to his thoughts being distracted. “There’s much more out there, Bae. But I don’t want more if it’s not going to fit within this room in this moment.” His fingers danced over Baldric’s arm as it pulled Bentley closer. “A Gryffindor I know once said that it wasn’t enough, this. I hope I’ve changed his mind…”

A grin – the first of the evening – broke out across Bentley’s face at his lover’s words. He doubted his statement of support had actually been what changed the younger man’s mind, but Ben would take it either way. The change of topic, of course, distracted him enough that he kept from commenting with some smug line about approving of Baldric’s decision. A laugh broke through before Ben took Baldric’s lower lip between his teeth.

“Now why,” he asked, voice low and amused, “would we catch up tomorrow, when you can have the fun of attacking me twice over?” He refrained from making another comment about Baldric being tops, but deeply regretted their donning shirts in an attempt to feel more properly suited for a chat in bed.

A chat would not be had, regardless of the presence of the bed.

One hand ran up Baldric’s arm and into the hair that curled against his neck as Bentley lifted his head to close the distance between them. “I’m so,” he spoke between kisses, “so sorry, love, about everything.” His fingers, ducking beneath the collar of Baldric’s shirt, betrayed his desire to trace the paths he had most certainly memorized but most definitely needed to follow again. And again. Ignoring the fact that the blonde had already managed to pull himself halfway over Bentley, the older man pushed himself off the mattress and instead pressed his lover into the sheets as his hands roved over the fabric of Baldric’s shirt. A question was presented through his touches, but he decided that waiting for the answer was too troublesome, so he pushed the tee-shirt over and off, letting it fall beside the bed. “Let’s not dress again, hmm? Too much work later.” Ben mumbled, pressing the words into Bae’s stomach. His tongue darted out for no more than a breath, to pass over the lines there, before he looked up at Baldric and just smiled.

His lover could deal with the pause he created in doing so, Ben decided, because in all their time together, and even behind the lust that burned in his gaze, the Slytherin had never offered an expression so blatantly full of love. There were moments when he thought he had, but he could just feel the difference that their conversation, their argument even, had created. Each time they had one of these confrontations, Bentley came out of it desperate for another, even if it meant fighting, because they meant renewed faith and trust and knowledge and everything that it took to keep people together. He wasn’t sure, in truth, how anyone managed it another way.

A chuckle rumbled lowly through Baldric’s chest, the vibrations thrumming against Ben’s neck as he truly began to relax, feeling all of the anxiety and the tumult of emotion sliding out from his muscles, soothing them. The warmth of Ben’s body unfurled beside him was enough, truly. It was all he needed, regardless of the petty restlessness that he’d shown, expelled with such vehemence not too many days prior to this one. He had the benefit of hindsight, of fresh anger, and what it told him was that in a world where a figure, this being the Ministry, was so adamant in it keeping him from Ben, Baldric decided that snatched hours, a handful of kisses and perhaps a quick romp was enough. He could live on that, he decided.

But, nevertheless, there was still a nagging feeling that maybe he’d been right in his petulance before – perhaps he still would feel that way. Yet, in that moment, feeling so utterly drained of anything able to keep in functioning that he couldn’t find it within himself to care about whether he had enough of Ben or care about wanting so badly to tell the Weasley woman where to go and insert herself – which was, really, anywhere that didn’t happen to be a place Ben liked to frequent, like his home – all he wanted was the man beside him to just stay there and keep loving him and knowing that for a finite number of hours he could have both together, it was enough. Truly.

“You’ve come a ways with doing that,” Baldric conceded between kisses lavished upon his lover’s neck. “But I’ll never be satisfied.” Baldric smirked, his hands ever trailing, finding their favourite spots and nooks in Ben’s body. “The only time I’ll be satisfied, is when I’m fat and old and you’re fatter and older and I can die in bed with the fattest, oldest and most handsome, excellent, loving man and knowing that I got you in the end and you’re. all. mine.” He nibbled on Ben’s ear lobe, squeezing the man’s middle to place emphasis on his words.

Baldric grinned, his eyes bright and light with mirth as Ben settled over him. He too fancied a quip that would allude to the earlier double-entendre but he’d let it rest, resolved to bring it up some other time. He eagerly responded to the kisses as though he was a man deserted, starved of all sustenance and water. Indeed, he was. He griped at Ben, dragging him closer, as though even pulling him through his form, melding them together, wouldn’t be enough, close enough.

“Forgiven.” Baldric gasped, pulling all of his breath back into him for a moment as his t-shirt was discarded. “Not your fault, though.” He closed his eyes, his body rising of its own accord into Ben’s touch. He gave a low, guttural whine, nodding fiercely in response to Ben’s words, finding no language of his own. He could only manage inconsequential sounds, his hips rising and rising as Ben moved further south. And then, nothing. Baldric opened his eyes, his lips coming together in a pout, his mouth dry.

The look was enough to pull Baldric from his lusty hollow. He felt his own lips curl, rising into a smile that mirrored Ben’s. He brought his hand down, rubbing his thumb across his brunette’s cheek, smoothing back a stray lock of hair. This was the important part. He could forget the sex, regardless of what a pivotal role it had played in bringing them together, regardless of how good it was. What he adored was the misty look in his lover’s eyes. What he revelled in seeing as the way he was beheld by those dark, brooding orbs that often held such upset and frustration – often a by-product from work. Baldric was glad to drive him to distraction, even with his own stupidity and penchant for reality television. Moreover, Baldric wanted only to see that look and bask in the love that his man held for him because here it was, on display, a perfect mirror to the way Baldric felt about Bentley, also.

“I love you,” he murmured, combing his fingers through Ben’s hair. “So much I can’t even…” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I just, with that… I don’t give a toss about everything that’s wrong so long as I still have you…” He smiled a little. “I can breathe… and everything will be alright in the end because of it… everything. Even things that seem so bleak now … it’s going to be alright so long as I’ve got you and that’s… that’s all that matters. I love you."

“I love you, too, Bae.” He replied, lifting slightly so he could move up and steal a kiss. “I could say it a million more times, right now, but I’m sure I will have in the end.” Ben ran his lips over Baldric’s jaw to make up for saving the words for another time.

Bentley’s fingers passed over Baldric’s skin, hardly there, before he dipped his head once more to plant kisses along his love’s collarbone. “Now, it would be ill-advised for you to distract me anymore. Otherwise I’ll just chat your ear off.” A smirk crossed his features as he moved from Baldric’s neck and down to his chest.

In the end, he only annoyed Baldric by talking twice. Fairly impressive, he would muse later. But he barely had the time before he had to stick a note to the front of his door for Red to find if she bothered to look. Lifting the sheets once more, Bentley delved beneath them and settled a bit farther down the bed than Baldric, where he could set he forehead against Bae’s side and wrap an arm around the blonde’s middle.

Sun smacked into the curtains that covered Bentley’s window, only sneaking through between the fibers of the fabric. It was enough, however, to force Ben to blink awake. Squinting against the light, he frowned and burrowed into Baldric’s arm. The realization that Bae was still there made Ben wake fully, looking up at the blonde as he slept. Pressing kisses into the younger man’s arm in an attempt to pull him from dreamland, Bentley pushed back the sheets covering his waist. “Up, up, my love.”

Swinging his feet over the edge of the mattress, Bentley pushed his hair out of his eyes and moved to clean up the mess they had made the night before with their clothes. An amused expression found its way onto his face as he did so, before digging in his chest of drawers and pulling out a set of clothes for the pair of them. After donning his own, he leaned over Baldric and nommed at his nose.

“You must get up, I’m afraid. If you don’t come with me, I won’t manage to tell them.”

Part of Bentley actually loved the idea that Baldric was still lying there, taking up part of his bed and ensuring that the pillow would smell like him when Bentley next used it. It wasn’t as comforting, though, as the man himself being there. At least, he supposed, they had the weekend. That was something.

Spent and exhausted, sated by both words and actions, Baldric collapsed against the soft familiarity of both the comfort of the sheets and the man beside him. Though ever eager to have the last word, tonight he was denied as with one last expulsion of breath, the feeling of Ben beside him enveloped Baldric and his eyes closed of their own accord, drawing a curtain on the night’s events, his arm curling around his lover, sure for the first night in what felt like years when in reality it had only been a few days. A few days too many was his last, abrasive thought and he turned his head toward Ben, popping a kiss to his hair before ebbing away, delving deep into his watery dreamland.

The first sign that getting up would be an eventuality – a given thing – was when he felt a few peppered kisses on his arm. Baldric wriggled a little, lifting his shoulder in an attempt to shirk of the affection, and a weary hand shot out for the sheets, dragging them around him as he turned into Ben. He was vaguely aware of the succeeding movement, the sagging of the mattress and then the twang of the springs moving back. The sleepy version of Baldric smiled a little, clawing the covers around him and inhaling deeply the scent of his lover. He burrowed his head back into his pillow, ever an advocate of enjoying the benefits of sleeping in when it wasn’t a week day, but before long, the second wave came and this time Baldric had to wake up.

Whining pitifully, Baldric opened one eye, reaching up to scrub away the sleep dust with his curled fist, and then the other popped open, his hand reaching to do the same. His brows furrowed a little, his mouth pouting his clear dismay at Ben’s eagerness to wake him up. Reaching up, Baldric caught his hand around the scruff of Ben’s collar and dragged him down, kissing him soundlessly, firmly, resolutely, before pushing him away playfully, a smile curling at Baldric’s lips.

“Good morning to you too,” he enthused, his voice still heavy with slumber. Nonetheless it wasn’t lost on him just where he was, in whose bed he was, who he was with. It was for that reason that briefly Baldric curled back into the covers, stretching out his muscles, feeling his arms and legs complain a little with a slight niggle under the skin that he needed to stop feeling sorry he was and start running again – and quit smoking, lest we forget. He put that aside for now, making the mental intention to do something with himself. Even if he was miserable away from Ben, there was no use in wallowing in it.

“Tell who what, anyway?” Baldric yawned, his hand coming up to stifle it. “Can’t we have coffee and cornflakes first?”

He grinned a little, turning over to stretch a little more, rubbing absently at the back of his neck, before rolling out of bed, plopping his feet onto the floor. He got up, throwing his arms over his head, and took in another yawn before glancing down at himself, feeling enough modesty to take stock of the fact that he was stark-bollock-naked but unable to quite care. He yawned again, a lazy smile flitting onto his features, and he held out his hands for the clothes, eager to get dressed but at the same time still half-muddling through the sleepy contentedness that was sticking stubbornly to his skin.

“Sleep well?” Baldric inquired, pulling the t-shirt over his sandy head of hair which, as ever, was sticking this way and that in a manner indicative of the night’s activities. It would take a wet comb to get it to sit down again but as he thumbed his fingers through and managed to get box legs into the boxer shorts, he found that he didn’t mind too much that he looked like he’d been dragged through a bush backwards flipped over and had the same exact thing happen again. In fact, he rather liked it. But, once the belt was looped around his jeans, socks found and his watch taken back off of the nightstand, his glasses sat on the top of his head, he smiled a little, able to smell Ben on his skin as well as in the clothes.

“I had the weirdest dream, too,” Baldric commented idly, scratching behind his ear. “We were buying a sodding dog, of all things but the pet shop also sold, like, life-sized sharks and that was kind of concerning but I didn’t want the shark, apparently… nope, I wanted a dog and you wanted a gerbil or some ratting thing … I dunno. It was orange and weird looking and fluffy and … yeah, no.” Baldric laughed. “The cats were the size of small goats, too.”

Baldric shuddered, a grin forming on his mouth. He wound his arms around Ben’s middle and kissed him again, smiling against the elder man’s lips. After pulling away, Baldric relinquished his hold on his lover before pulling his glasses down onto his nose. Another yawn rumbled through him but the smile remained and Baldric bobbed a little bit on the sock-clad balls of his feet.

“Okay, can I convince you to go and have breakfast with me first… or is your mum up for cooking to feed a Wood?”

Bentley braced himself against the mattress, leaning over Baldric as the blond pulled him down to deliver good-morning kisses that had him wishing he hadn’t dressed. Or even left the bed. But he held tight to Baldric’s clothes, only grumbling a little when he was pushed away. He told himself not to roll his eyes as he backed away, searching for the shoes he had dropped somewhere in his room the night before.

“Ah, um. Derek and Nancy about my parents. About how I know someone to look for them.” He replied finally, sinking onto the end of the bed as he pretended not to watch Baldric once he left the bed. “And I don’t think you really want to go into that kitchen...”

Rose had left all manner of things around the house, and the kitchen was no exception. If Baldric hadn’t liked the parts he saw before, Ben didn’t dare think the man could handle more of it. “Pretty well, yeah,” he answered absentmindedly, barely remembering to tack on the generally required, “You?”

It was only lost on Ben for a few moments that Baldric wearing his clothes. But then he stood and actually paid attention long enough to register it, even after he had handed the man the items himself. A glance at Baldric’s glasses had Bentley chuckling slightly, trying to listen to the strange dream that Bae’s mind had concocted for him. Any reply he wanted to give was halted as fingers brushed around his side to clasp being his back, distracting him. The kiss was almost something that Ben felt they each needed, though he couldn’t remember when it had become natural. Or when it had become the necessity that it so obviously was.

“Sounds pretty terrifying, that dream. I guess we won’t be adopting any time soon, then?” He asked, referring to the bizarre animals that had been listed for him. Baldric’s question made him laugh, smile remaining as he answered, “They don’t know I’m going – or that you’re joining me – but Nancy always tends to cook more than I can manage. So I figure we’ll be fine.”

Tapping the rim of Baldric’s glasses, Ben had to keep the mood light or he feared he would start worrying all the more, and inevitably bring Rick down with him. He paused for a moment, eyes darting over Baldric’s face in some unexpressed question, but then nodded firmly and turned to snatch his wand off the dresser top. “Right. Let’s go.”

It lifted a weight off his shoulders, in truth, that they wouldn’t be staying at his flat for the next day or so. So he extended a hand to Baldric and waited until the Gryffindor was ready.

The Ashford household was modest yet deceptively bearing the markers of the wealth that the owners bore. The neatly trimmed front garden, the quaint intermittently placed slab path and the roses in the bushes underneath the front windows reminded Baldric of the homes he had imagined as a little boy, reading books with his auntie. The gate was unclicked and they made their way up the path, the metal clasp on the gate clanging together, announcing their arrival to anyone in the back garden to whom the sound travelled. The slight crunch of the sun baked grass underfoot also served to create a sound and distantly, Baldric picked up on the sound of footsteps behind the door they approached. Just as he got up onto the porch slab beside his lover, his hand sliding across the elder man’s lower back unconsciously, the door was thrown open and in a manner that mirrored the way Molly Weasley would receive Harry Potter, the boys were pulled inside and into tight hugs, Baldric melting immediately into his, tightening his grasp on Nancy and breathing in the sweet smell of her hair and skin. It was a mother’s hug – a kind of embrace he hadn’t realised he’d missed until he was enveloped in it again.

After disentangling himself from the embrace of the lady, Baldric passed a glance over at Bentley whom he couldn’t quite believe was there with him. Baldric strayed back to the elder man’s side, his mind harking back to the comment Ben had made after Baldric had recounted his dream. The thought allowed him to slip off into his own little world for a minute there and he considered outside of gerbils and cats what it would be like to really adopt. He’d not had the model father but in an effort to undo those mistakes, Baldric had always wondered after the idea of having children. He had a great love affair with the concept of being a parent but he had no idea if he’d be any good at it. In fact, the idea of children petrified him from the outset due to his fear of hurting them accidently or having a hand in somehow upsetting their delicate little lives. He knew that he wanted to have children, however, and given his penchant for men over women, it seemed unlikely to ever happen unless he did adopt. It was all a bit of a pipe dream, though, and he didn’t think he’d be very good at it. He needed to get his life in order first, too.

“How’re you then, Nance?” Baldric asked conversationally, pushing his glasses up on top of his head. “Well, I hope?”

Baldric passed from Ben’s side and followed Nancy as she retreated through into the kitchen and he threw out the offer to help her in whatever it was she was doing. The kitchen was bright, modern and welcoming. Underfoot the tiles were cool, Baldric having taken off his shoes at the door, and he immediately took up his place in front of the stove, picking up the fish slice to prod at the bacon that was sizzling away in a pan on the hob. He glanced over his shoulder at Ben one more before plopping his glasses down back onto his nose, focusing on the bacon, one eye straying to the eggs poaching in another pan. This gave him a little bit of purpose and, indeed, soothed some of Baldric’s fears that maybe he wasn’t being helpful enough. If anything, he had a habit of being over helpful in an effort to gain Nancy and Derek’s approval. There would be no changing that.