The Iron Bull. (bullheaded) wrote in the100, @ 2016-04-11 23:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, !storybrooke, dorian pavus, the iron bull |
Storybrooke log, Ben & Dorian
WHO: Dorian Grey (Pavus) & Ben Irons (Iron Bull)
WHEN: April 11th, tonight. Late.
WHERE: Ben’s place, Storybrooke.
WHAT: Dorian is a jerk and there’s a breakup and Ben is sad :(
WARNING: Uh, S for Sad. Because wow.
First, there was a text: I need to see you. Dorian had sent a hundred of those texts before, coy and desperate, and every time it had been the prologue to Dorian jumping on his lover the moment he came through Ben's door. This time, however, Dorian quietly closed Ben's door behind him and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "We need to … discuss some things," he said, instead of tackling Ben as he usually did. He opted to look anywhere except at Ben, taking stock of the little details in the room and a crack in the ceiling. "It's no big deal, really," he added after a moment's silence. He waved a dismissive hand. "In fact, if you'd rather, we could talk later. I could undress now." He gave the bottom of his lightweight green sweater a small tug, lifting it up just enough to give Ben a peek at his caramel skin. Normally, Ben would’ve been half naked and waiting already. Or naked and waiting with whipped cream or some kind of joke. He lived for those texts, they got his blood boiling at a moment’s notice. And his friends noticed, too. It wasn’t the first time he’d be lounging in a chair at the bar with his Chargers, get a text and make a hasty retreat. They all laughed and joked about him getting a bootycall, and Ben was old enough that he barely even blushed when he laughed his way out of the door. He saw them everyday, openly and with Dorian it was the opposite. He was lucky if he got every night in a week, and they sure as fuck didn’t get any of that in public. So yeah, his excitement level was starting off pretty high. Right until the moment he got the We Need to Talk cliche. His lips lined into a small frown, immediately worried something had happened and Dorian was looking to forget about it. But they had some pretty clear rules about not taking shit to bed, so Ben just raised an eyebrow and made no move to strip further. “How about you talk first, then we fuck.” They had rules. With the kind of sex they had, they needed rules. Dorian usually thrived on them, and as a result he felt happiest and safest when he was restrained and helpless with Ben in charge. But today, Dorian sighed a little at the restriction, stepping forward to close the gap between them. "How about we play it the opposite today?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. He could have said he was just kidding, they really didn't need to talk, and Dorian didn't know what he was thinking in suggesting they have an Important Conversation. He pulled lightly at Ben's shirt, bringing him down for a soft, brief kiss that he was reluctant to pull away from. Ben knew something was wrong, obviously. He wasn’t Spec Ops for a decade for nothing, and he knew that cagey look Dorian had. He hated that cagey look. But he cradled his lover’s face and made the kiss as loving, sweet and passionate as he could, without letting them get carried away. Finally pulling away, he brushed his thumb against the length of Dorian’s neck soothingly. “What happened? You alright?” No. He wasn't. Dorian was sure he would never be all right ever again. For a while he was silent, refusing to answer Ben's question. Answering it meant changing things. It meant never coming into this apartment again, never feeling Ben's warm, solid hands against him, or feeling another one of those gentle, perfect kisses against his mouth. He was in love. He knew he was. He'd never been in love like this in his life. But that was wrong. It was misguided, and Dorian couldn't continue like this. He had to make a choice. He looked down at Ben's chest rather than looking up at his eyes. "We have to end this." Ben hissed in a breath. It wasn’t like it was shocking, but it definitely wasn’t what he’d expected. In hindsight, he should have. He should’ve known this was coming a mile away. He was dumb to think they could’ve had anything long-term. Foolish, short sighted. He was so wrapped up in what they were that he refused to let himself think about what they could be. Because yeah, the greater portion of him wanted Dorian all to himself. And he’d let himself hope that Dorian would actually end up with him, even if it was too much to ask. But he was still naive enough to wonder if there was more to it. He dropped his hands, slowly, but didn’t back away. “Your dad find out about us?” Dorian didn't answer him immediately, and that was answer enough. He looked away, and a moment later he moved away to fold his arms uncomfortably across his chest. He would have loved to live his life without being a disappointment to someone. No matter what he did, he was hurting someone. Ben was the love of his life, but his father was family. "He … suspects," he said after a considerable silence. "He's aware. Maybe I haven't been as subtle as I thought." Ben dropped his arms down to his side and swallowed the lump in his throat as he took his own steps away, nodding slowly. It didn’t take a keen eye to see the muscles straining under his skin as he reigned it all in and mimicked Dorian’s posture, crossing his arms across his bare chest. He could keep his emotions in check with an iron will, but even now his jaw was twitching as he clenched it. “Alright.” He couldn’t, obviously just leave it at that, so Ben pushed out a breath. “So that’s just it? You go home to your wife and in a few months find some other guy to shack up with in secret?” "No," Dorian said quietly, fixing his eyes on his shoes and not looking up. He needed to polish them and replace the laces, he decided. "I go home to my wife and I never 'shack up' with another man again." There weren't going to be any other men. No one was going to make him happy like Ben made him happy -- but that happiness came with the anxiety and stress of being caught, of feeling like he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve this kind of happiness. It was wrong that he was content like this, or that he wanted more. Saying no to Ben about leaving Maria felt more and more impossible each day. He had to end it now, or else he'd never end it at all. Before Ben, sleeping with men had been like scratching an itch. He got it out of his system and kept it quiet. He couldn't keep it quiet anymore. People were starting to notice, and Ben was so much more than a way to get things out of his system. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me-” Ben threw his arms up in the air and stepped to the side, only narrowly avoiding knocking a jar off his small dining table. His level of done was pretty much through the roof at this point, and a man that was normally reserved and good at hiding his emotions was long gone. How many kids had he helped through coming out? Half dozen, at least. This was- Ben didn’t know how to talk to this grown man that he’d been sleeping with for months. That he was in love with. Ben was older - not necessarily wiser, but in some cases smarter and a lot more grounded than Dorian. He knew he couldn’t force anybody’s hand. It had to be Dorian’s choice, and that choice had to be to want to tell his family. But instead of getting more used to the idea he was backing himself up into a corner. Ben turned back, pointing a finger directly at Dorian and staring him down. “You’re gonna regret that. You’re gonna be miserable, and it’s gonna make you do something stupid.” "I know," said Dorian hollowly. He was going to regret it. He was already regretting it. He was already miserable. Ben was the one person in his life who made him truly happy, the only person who knew who he truly was. Ben was the only person he wanted. He cleared his throat, glancing away. He couldn't say much more than that, not when he felt his eyes stinging with tears. Ben was angry with him, and with good reason — but not everyone could live the way Ben lived. Not everyone could just be open. He couldn't even begin to understand how Ben had the job he had, he couldn't understand how parents weren't outraged, but Dorian had come to learn that not everyone thought the way his family did. "I have to … I have to reevaluate my life," he said, which was the same thing he'd said to Maria earlier that afternoon, whatever that meant. Ben’s next breath was broken, strangled. It was harsh, and almost, almost choked up. Even knowing he really had no right, that this had started out with a “this could end anytime” clause, he was angry. Mostly at himself. He was the damned idiot for getting involved with a married man. And then even more dumb for falling in love with him. Ben knew better, and still did it. Somehow, knowing that Maria didn’t give a shit about her husband or his affairs helped, but- Shit. The whole thing was shit. Arguing with him wasn’t going to change that. Turning this into a fight was just going to leave a nasty taste in his mouth. So Ben played the bigger man and raised an open hand to the door. “Hope you manage to actually do that. Find some peace. Cause you deserve it.” Dorian shook his head. "No," he said gently. "I don't." Whatever had happened between him and his father, it was enough to make him feel like leaving was the only option — and it very clearly wasn't what he wanted. He was doing his best to keep his distance, to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but this decision was breaking him. He wanted to tell Ben he loved him. He wanted to kiss him goodbye, spend one more night at his side. He wanted to spend every night at his side. That was the wrong thing to want, and it was selfish. Family was more important than this. He rubbed the back of his neck, taking in a shuddering breath, and then he headed for the door. "I'm sorry. I … I am so sorry." Ben wasn’t going to argue with him, even if he didn’t agree. Dorian deserved so fucking much more than he was given from his family, and he especially deserved peace. He deserved to be at peace with who he was, and that wasn’t something Ben joked about. His face was still stoic, but his eyes were another story entirely. Full of love, sadness and … hope, of all things, as he looked across at his lover - former lover? He followed Dorian slowly, desperately not wanting this to become a battle of the apologies, because he wasn’t sure he could make it through that. “Don’t be sorry now. Save it for when you come back.” He shouldn’t have suggested it, and the wince on his face was obvious. “That door ain’t closed for you, ever. You change your mind, I’m not gonna give you shit for it.” Dorian stared up at him, his eyes glassy. "Don't. You can't do that," he said. "You've got to throw me out of here and lock the door and tell me never to look at you again, Ben, you can't … you can't leave your door open and give me the option." Because then he'd take it. He'd be gone for a month or two. He'd give it his best effort. Dorian had tried so many times over the years to be respectable, to not be gay — but he always gave in. A few moments of happiness always felt worth it, until the guilt settled in. “Hey-” Ben’s voice went dead serious, dropping down quietly as he followed Dorian to the door. He stopped in his tracks, staring his lover down. “You’re already asking a fuckin’ lot of me here. You don’t get to tell me who I open my door for, too.” Cause it was always going to be him. Always. He could’ve lied. Could’ve tried to make Dorian feel better. Could’ve fought, yelled, kicked him out. But that wasn’t Ben, especially not with someone he loved. “You don’t want that option? Don’t take it. But make it be your choice.” He shook his head, just a fraction. “I’m not gonna tell you if you walk out this door you ain’t welcome back. But save your groveling for then. I’ve gotta nurse my wounds now.” Dorian resisted the urge to touch him. He wanted to explain himself, to talk about this, but he couldn't have any excuses to stay. Ben would have been way too fucking understanding. "For what it's worth, I…" Love you. Instead of finishing his sentence, he just looked toward the door. This had always been inevitable, he'd said it from the start. The only difference was, this had lasted months. He'd fallen in love. He'd genuinely thought of leaving his wife and destroying his family. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. He straightened his shoulders, biting back all of the things he truly wanted to say. He was good at denial. He had to get good at denying himself the things he wanted. "Take care of yourself, Ben." Without another glance back at him, he left. |