It's like finding buried treasure
Apr. 29th, 2006 02:54 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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treasure_geeksWow, I have not written anything in so long, but after recently getting compliments on this series that I started last June (and had almost completely forgotten about) I went back to re-read it and I found that I had only posted part 1 and 2 in this community.
I guess if there's really a big demand for more from this series (and part of me thinks it can't be over yet because I still have not even titled the series) I may need to take up writing NT slash fic again.
Like I said, I did post the 1st 2 parts of this series...but that was way back in June, so I felt justified in reposting them. (I do have some other fic-lets back in the history pages of this community too.)
If you've already read this, cool, I hope you liked it. If you haven't already read this, Hi! My name's CaptainCooze and I try to write slash. :P
PART ONE- "Private Jets and Star Wars"
Characters: Abbey, Ben, Riley
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: you know the drill
As Riley and Ben prepared to board the private jet which would bring them back home, Riley thought about the long ride to Cairo, on this same jet, only two weeks ago.
Riley had read six chapters of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," listened to Blink 182's "Take Off Your Pants and Jacket" all the way through, suffered through Ben's explanation of the significance of his "big, blue man" statue's goatee, and taken a good nap before landing in Egypt with Ben and Abigail.
They were there for the opening of the "Lost Wonders of Egypt" exhibit which featured some of the relics Ben, Riley, and Abigail had recovered (including Riley's big, blue man statue). Abigail was staying behind to work with ARCE (the American Research Center in Egypt) to pour over the scrolls from the library of Alexandria with the best historians and preservationists in the world.
Riley stood at the doorway of the jet watching Ben and Abigail stall for time as they exchanged the typical, infatuated "I love you's," "I'll miss you's," "Call or e-mail every day's," "dont' go falling in love with some handsome young man now," and other such sentiments. Riley made a show of rolling his eyes, impatiently tapping his foot and checking his watch, but Ben and Abbey were dead to the world as they stood on the tarmac, hugging and kissing their good-byes.
"For crying out loud people, you can't be apart for three weeks?" Ben frowned at Riley and pressed his forehead against Abigail's. Riley helplessly threw his hands up in the air and muttered to himself about sensible, intelligent people behaving like lovesick puppies as he went inside the jet to see if the pilots had any good movies with them this time.
Ben sighed, "What am I going to do for the next 21 days?"
Abigail laughed, hugging Ben tightly, "Oh you and Riley will think of something. He is staying with you, right?"
"Hmm? Yeah, he's been offered a job with a major security firm to 'hack-proof' their systems. He needs a place to stay until he gets himself a house."
"Assuming the two of you don't find some other mythical treasure to go hunting for."
Ben feigned a hurt look, "For one thing, the last mythical treasure was real, Dr. Chase, and for another...we're more like treasure protectors anyway."
Abigail playfully swatted Ben's arm, "Well get on that plane before Riley leaves without you."
Pulling her in for a final kiss, Ben growled, "Oh let him leave without me. It'll give me an excuse to stay here with you."
"Uh uh, Mr. Paul Brown, you have work to do back home. Now get your butt on that plane." Ben reluctantly turned and began climbing the stairs. "And Ben, ... I love you."
He waved and smiled, calling back, "I know."
* * * * *
Ben watched Riley out of the corner of his eye. Riley didn't look terribly happy. He was sitting low in his seat watching "Star Wars" on one of the jet's screens, headphones plugged in, blank face staring ahead.
"What?" Yes, Riley wasn't happy.
"Nothing Riley, you just...you don't look too incredibly excited to be going home."
Riley paused before pulling his headphones from his ears and turning to Ben, gripping the arms of his seat. "No Ben, I'm really excited to be going home. In fact, the only way I could be more excited to be going home is if we had left two hours ago as scheduled."
Ben smiled, knowing Riley's anger couldn't last too much longer. "Riley...you seem a little fussy. Maybe you're just hungry. I know, do you need a nap?"
Riley narrowed his eyes, crossed his arms, . . . and pouted (partially because Ben was being very infuriating, and partially because Ben was right). Riley had been dared into eating some very exotic food over the past two weeks, and he desperately needed a cheeseburger and french-fries, smothered in grease and loaded with salt...a truly American meal. But rather than give Ben the satisfaction of knowing he was right, Riley put his headphones back on and continued to watch "Star Wars."
About 10 minutes later Riley fell asleep.
PART TWO-"Billiards and Booze"
Characters- Ben and Riley
Rating- PG-13
Disclaimer- you know the drill
Riley stepped in the door and dropped his bags. He glanced around, impressed by how quickly Abigail had been able to decorate and furnish the place. He'd been there a few times since Abbey and Ben had moved in, but he was still impressed by the Gates/Chase abode. He knew there was some historical meaning attached to the house, and he had thus far managed to escape hearing the tale from Ben, but Riley knew that spending three weeks with Benjamin Gates meant sooner or later he would have to listen to the whole story (complete with many unnecessary and totally unrelated facts).
Ben wordlessly pushed past Riley and went through a high archway. Seconds later, the computerized voice of the answering machine sparked to life. "You have, 43, new messages."
Riley guessed that each message was from a talk show producer, reporter, or historian calling to ask for an interview, an article, or just to kiss Ben's ass in hopes of making up for 4 generations of mockery. Riley smiled to himself, knowing Ben would listen to each and every one in hope of hearing a message from Abigail.
Riley decided to pass the time familiarizing himself with the Gates/Chase home. Riley ascended the staircase, making a mental note to slide down the mahogany banister at least once before Abigail was slated to return. At the top of the stairs, Riley made his way down the hallway, flicking on each light, and poking his head in each room. He found some empty rooms, a library, guest rooms, an office, and more empty rooms. It was unquestionably better than Ben's last home.
Riley thought of the bachelor abode, littered with pizza boxes, artifacts, and papers. Riley laughed, knowing by the time Abbey made it back, her home would definitely have received Ben's unmistakable touch. Riley could already envision the empty take-out boxes (primarily chinese and pizza), scraps of paper with notes for the many articles Ben was supposed to work on, and clothes (probably boxers) precariously hanging from lampshades.
At the end of the hall, Riley found a dark room stocked with cigars and a bar. The entire room was centered around a pool table. He involuntarily shuddered. Briefly, Riley thought that the room was completely devoid of anything resembling Ben's character. There was an aura about the room which he couldn't quite pin down, but the thought didn't trouble Riley for long as he was soon distracted by the rosewood pool cues inlaid with an intricate pattern of ivory. Riley gripped a cue and peeked out the door to be sure Ben was still preoccupied with the answering machine. After a moment, the muffled droning of message after message assured Riley a good 15 minutes of remaining free time.
*****
Ben hadn't been searching for Riley long when the clacking of billiards drew him to the room at the end of the second floor. Ben quietly entered, leaning into the door jamb as he watched Riley. Riley's chest was pressed into the edge of the pool table, his legs stretched and spread out, his butt wagging back and forth as he narrated the game he was playing against an imaginary foe.
"Riley Hot-Shot Poole has definitely been living up to his name today ladies and gentlemen as he has played a dynamic game for the title against league champion and favorite, Mark Hard-Ball Macau. It's Hot-Shot Poole's move. All he's gotta do is sink the 8 ball and the win is his. Poole lines up his shot, you can cut the tension in this room with a butter knife folks, Hot-Shot pulls back..." Riley unsteadily struck the ball. With a loud clack the 8 ball bounced against the opposite end of the felt lined table, curved, and rolled back to him, balancing just on the outside edge of the side pocket. Riley frowned and subtly bumped the table, watching the ball rock back and forth before dropping into the netted abyss, thudding against its billiard brethren who had gone before it. Riley tossed his cue in the air shouting, "DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES!?! YES, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, RILEY HOT-SHOT POOLE HAS DONE IT, HE IS THE NOW UNDEFEATED WORLD-WIDE POOL CHAMPION!" As Riley spun in a circle (mid victory dance) he realized he wasn't alone in the room.
Riley froze, his mouth attempting to form words, but no sounds were escaping. He looked like a fish desperately in need of water. Riley gave up on trying to speak and (in his embarrassment) simply handed his pool cue to Ben while quietly stepping out of the room. A moment later he returned, thumb in the direction of the stairs. "I'm just gonna...go unpack now."
Ben shook his head, set the pool cue on the table, and turned to follow Riley down the stairs. Apparently, Riley had found his voice. He was sitting on the couch, rifling through his bags, quietly muttering to himself.
"Would you like a drink, Mr. Hot-Shot?" Ben smiled and winked at Riley while heading to the kitchen.
Riley shot a look at Ben's back which was very much like the expression of annoyance and disgust he'd worn the first time Ben and Abigail had kissed in front of him. "Rub it in." Riley muttered.
"What's that Riley?"
"Nothing Ben. Do you have any Budweiser?"
Ben returned holding up 2 bottles. "I hope Bud-Light is ok. Abbey does the shopping."
Riley nodded, taking the bottle and a large swig. "So how is it? Living with Abigail I mean."
Ben switched on the stereo and sat down, spreading out on the couch. Light, classical music slowly flooded into the room. "It's good. Different, but good. She's a wonderful woman. I'm very lucky to have her, you know?"
Riley rolled his head back and emitted a low, "yeah." Riley eyed a chessboard set up in the corner of the room. "Hey Ben, do you have any harder stuff in the house?"
Ben thoughtfully cocked his head to the side. "Yes, in the kitchen and in the billiards room bar."
"How many shot glasses do you have?"
*****
"Ok Ben, so the game goes like this, these shot glasses here are the pawns, these are the rooks, these the bishops, and these the knights. Oh, and this is my king and queen, and your king and queen. Now, what we do is, we play a regular game of chess, and when you capture an opponent's 'chess piece,' you take that shot. After check-mate, the loser takes all the remaining shots, and the winner gets a Blow Job." Ben raised his eyebrows at Riley who just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "A Blow Job, you perverted man you, is a shot which one consumes without using one's hands." Riley thoughtfully chewed the inside of his cheek. "Although, I don't think a blow job without the use of hands would truly reach the height of a blow job's maximum potential, you know?"
Ben ignored the statement and asked, "You actually played this game in college?"
"Absolutely, this game is perfect for getting the chess geek type to open up, especially since the winner takes a lot of shots if they capture a lot of their opponents pieces." Riley smiled and adjusted his Queen on the board. "Now, I'll have you know that I was in the chess club in high school, so, prepare to go down Benjamin Franklin Gates...that Blow Job is mine." Riley began cracking his knuckles and shaking out kinks in his neck.
Ben shook his head and smoothed out a wrinkled pants' leg. "That's all well and good, Riley, but I was the regional chess champion when I was in high school and captain of the chess team in college."
Riley gestured, palms out, conceding. "Well then, you first, champ."
*****
Ben slammed the empty shot glass down on the coffee table and shouted, "WHO IS THE MAN? I'M THE MAN! WOOOO!"
Riley laughed, finishing off another beer. "Ben, those are words I never thought I'd hear you say."
Ben just giggled (yes, giggled) and leaned back into the couch. He wagged a finger at Riley and slurred, "I have to give it to you, this is a damn fun game...Mr. Riley Hot-Shot Poole." Ben snorted, another string of giggles erupting.
Riley moved his remaining "knight," careful not to spill its contents on the chess board. "Yeah, well, you think it's fun because you're kicking my ass. Now, I believe it is your move."
Ben focused on the board and smiled. He slid his "queen" 2 spaces to the right and sat back, hands cradling his head. "Check."
Riley pursed his lips and scanned the board. "Damn it." He shrugged and picked a random piece to move. "Fine then, just take me out of my misery, will you?"
Ben triumphantly slid his "queen" into the black box previously occupied by Riley's "king." He picked up both shot glasses and dumped them into his mouth, swishing them around before swallowing. "Ha ha! Ok Riley, you take care of those shots you've gotta drink, and then you make me up my victory Blow Job." Ben jumped up to the stereo and put in a different CD, dancing around the room as "Mack the Knife" began.
Riley smiled, shrugged, and began downing shots. Ben stopped dancing and stared at Riley. Ben sobered slightly as he watched Riley clean up the chess board, almost effortlessly. He sat again and searched Riley's face. "Wow. You did that fast. I thought you weren't much of a drinker."
Riley just shrugged, lining up the empty shot glasses in neat rows. "Oh, they'll probably be hitting me in about...two minutes." He looked into Ben's eyes, the billiards room coming to his mind for some reason he couldn't explain. "Ben, this may seem like a weird question but, well, every room in this house has," Riley searched for the right words, "elements of Abigail's personality, or yours, incorporated in it's decor. It's mostly Abigail's personality but there's a little of you."
Ben looked at the carpet, rubbed his hands and spoke quietly. "Abigail."
Riley faintly pursed his lips, his question about the billiards room already gone. "Ben, are you alright?"
"What? Yeah, yeah, sure." Ben spoke slowly, considering each word. "It's just, I've known Abigail for, what, four months now?" Riley nodded. "And I love her. I think I maybe want to spend the rest of my life with her, maybe. But, there's just something that's, off. It's nothing with her, Abigail's wonderful. Like I said before, I'm truly lucky to have her; but I guess I have my father's words ringing in my ears, you know? I mean, my dad loved one person with all his heart, and that was my mother. When she died, so many people tried to get him to remarry, to move on and find someone else, but he wouldn't. They'd met in college and she was the first, last, and only woman my dad ever loved...ever. And then I come along. I loved in high school, or at least I thought it was love, I loved in college, I loved while I was in my naval training. I guess I've carved out places in my heart for a lot of people. I love Abbey with a huge chunk of my heart. But there's an even bigger part that's still a mystery to me. I know it's hard for you to believe but" Ben stopped, letting out a deep breath. "Maybe it's the alcohol talking but, despite everything, even still, I care about...well, I still care for" Ben paused, brow furrowed, searching his thoughts, "Ian. I care for Ian." Ben inhaled deeply and rushed his words together, his speech slurring again, "And Abigail deserves the best, she deserves everything that I am and everything that I have. You know? But before I marry anyone, I want to know exactly where and with whom all of my feelings lie." Ben looked in Riley's eyes and said in a low, quiet voice, "I just wanna know it's not just something in my head or in my heart."
Riley was so incredibly stunned, the only thing he could manage to say was, "Ian?"
Ben leaned forward, gently clapping his hands around Riley's ears, "Not just Ian." Ben hoped to God this wasn't the alcohol's doing. He leaned in, even closer to Riley's face. His hands slid down, and he ran his thumbs along Riley's jawbone. Ben pulled Riley to him, kissing Riley's upper lip. Only for a moment did Riley hesitate. The next second, Riley was pulling on Ben's lower lip, his own hands on Ben's shoulders, legs pressing into the coffee table which separated them.
Riley could hear rain pattering on the windows and wind blowing across the roof. Another old, big band tune was flowing from the stereo and he could smell the cinnamon candle Ben had lit earler. Riley focused on the kiss, which had deepened. He could taste the alcohol lingering in Ben's mouth and on his breath but there was more than just the taste of countless shots in the kiss. Riley inhaled, taking in the smell of Ben's subtle musky cologne. Ben's face was warm, his mouth wet, and his kiss firm.
Riley almost lost himself in the kiss...almost. From some dark corner of his brain came a blaring warning signal. Riley could faintly hear quiet footsteps along the wooden floor, occasionally muffled by a carpet. The steps drew closer and louder. And then they stopped.
He was afraid to see just who or what was there, but slowly, Riley pulled back from Ben and opened his eyes.
The clothes were completely soaked. The hair was matted and dripping. The stance was one of impenetrable power and assurance. Riley stared, completely frozen.
Ben, sensing something very bad had just happened, slowly turned around. Yet, as surprised as he was, his voice held a tone more sad than shocked.
"Ian."
PART THREE- "Victory Blow Job"
Characters- Ian/Ben/Riley
Rating- R
Disclaimer- You know the drill
Riley was finding it incredibly difficult to comprehend just what exactly had happened. He decided the best way to analyze the situation would be to break it down into digestible pieces. Unfortunately, in the space of time between Riley's brain registering Ian's presence to Riley's brain registering that someone was speaking, all he had managed to work out was that both he and Ben were drunk...very, very drunk. He still had to figure out how his mouth had gotten attached to Ben's, where else on Ben his mouth wanted to go, why it wanted to go there, and why Ian's mouth was in Ben's house at all rather than in a prison cell where the rest of his body was supposed to be.
"Ian."
Ian stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Ben. Riley." He inclined his head slightly in the direction of the two men. Ben, sitting at the couch, was twisted around, watching Ian's eyes as he spoke. Riley, sitting across from Ben in a black armchair, seemed to be completely detached from the events currently taking place.
Ian ran a hand through his wet hair and smiled. "Enjoying a friendly drinking game together, are we? Funny, I never put you down as the type for drunkenness and, ah...debauchery, Gates."
Ben coughed awkwardly, and stood, attempting to casually mask a hasty wiping of his lips with the back of his hand. "We all need to loosen up every now and again, right Ian?" Ben was trying to appear calm and relaxed, but his muscles were tense and he had the aura of a cornered animal; unsure if its predator is just toying with it or going in for the kill.
The corner of Ian's mouth quirked upward ever so slightly and he raised a brow as he conceded, "So we do." Without waiting for an invitation, he picked up a half full bottle of whiskey and righted one of Ben's fallen "pieces," filling it to the brim and knocking it back in one go. He licked his lips critically, swallowing several times to evaluate the after-taste of the liquor. He contemptuously sniffed the shot glass and grinned at Ben, parting his lips in something that was about 60% smile, 40% sneer. "Swill. Cheap swill, at that. Honestly, Ben, I thought you had better taste."
"It's his." Ben jerked his thumb at Riley, pulling Riley's wandering thoughts back to the unfolding events at hand. Riley started, realizing that something amiss was being (once again) pinned on him, and unsteadily hoisted himself up, swatting Ben's shoulder. Ian, strangely enough, looked intrigued.
Riley was slowly making his way past the couch, eyes low, shoulders slightly hunched forward. "So, Ian," Riley began, not terribly sure of what to say, considering the fact that, not long ago, the man staring at him had done several things which could qualify as attempted murder. "How, umm, how's it, uhh, well, ... goin'?" Riley continued to mutter and grope for words, feeling very lost and unsure of himself. He desperately hoped this was all a bad, alcohol induced, unconscious dream.
Ian ignored Riley's stammering attempts at speech and reached forward to gently cup his chin. At this, Riley fell completely and utterly silent. Riley was positive this was no dream. Alcohol alone could not explain the sheer bizarreness of the whole situation. Pot? Maybe. Shrooms? Definitely. Alcohol? Not a chance.
Ian continued as though Riley had never spoken, "I see you managed to keep yourselves entertained." Keeping his eyes on Ben, Ian dragged a calloused thumb over Riley's lips, pink and swollen from kissing. Ian gave both men a very meaningful look. Riley swallowed hard, still not sure what, exactly, Ian was planning on doing. Riley doubted very much that Ian had sought he and Ben out just to have a few beers and shoot the breeze before heading back to his prison cell.
Riley's easily distracted mind began playing with that scenario. He imagined Ian orchestrating an elaborate escape with the sole purpose of having a friendly chat with the very men who put him in prison. After they'd laughed at jokes, listened to Ian's prison stories, and played a good game of pool, Ian would head off into the rain and back to his cell where, after "lights-out," he would excitedly tell his prison-mates about his trip to the outside. Riley frowned. There was that nagging thought about the pool room again.
Suddenly, interrupting Riley's thought process, he noticed there were lips on his. After a moment of shock, (not knowing what else to do) Riley began to yield, to explore, and to flow with the kiss. It was better and worse, similar and yet completely different from Ben's. Ian's kiss was hard and insistent and violent and the ferocity with which he was ravishing Riley's mouth felt like an assault. Ben's kiss was slow and sweet and languorous; he was a maddening tease and he knew it. Ian's was bruisingly rough; fire and passion with no pretenses, and Riley relished the unbridled wildness of it. Ian's hands were sweet demons, stealing down Riley's body, sometimes brushing, feather-light, over his skin, sometimes gripping like a vice, making Riley squirm and buck beneath him.
And just as suddenly as the kiss began, it ended. Riley fell through the now vacant space occupied seconds earlier by Ian's intoxicating resolve and claiming power. Ian steadied Riley with a firm hand. As Riley looked about, bewildered, Ian chuckled, shaking his head. "Always the eager one."
"What are you doing here, Ian?" Ben's voice was quiet, but commanding. He seemed to no longer be making weak attempts at a nonchalant attitude. Instead, he was now direct and firm. Riley glanced back and forth between the two men. His mouth was open slightly, but he, very wisely, was not saying a word.
Ian's eyes grew cold and his smile faded as he and Ben locked into each other's gaze. The words he spat out were a unique blend of contempt and sarcasm. "Well Ben, as I'm sure you know, I was being held in a minimum security prison. There are countless ways one can escape from such a petitentary." Ian's smile returned. "Maybe I bribed a few guards. Possibly an associate of mine aided in my premature release from incarceration. Or, perhaps I dug a tunnel from the floor of my cell to just outside the prison fence with a spoon stolen from the cafeteria? Those are just some possibilities mind you, I won't bore you with the specifics of my departure."
Ben repeated himself, speaking more slowly and forcefully, "What are you doing here, Ian?"
Ian lowered his eyes and spoke quietly. "Gates, we were mates, you and I. I believed in you, supported you, and defended you. When it looked like we would never find the Charlotte, I stayed with you." Ian looked up and nodded in Riley's direction. "When you chose to bring Riley into it, I didn't agree with your decision but I allowed it. Even when we...went our separate ways, as it were,...we were still close, both pursuing invariably the same thing. We're a lot alike, you and I. We are determined, strong, clever, charismatic, and we both love the chase." Ian stepped forward and gripped the back edge of the couch, leaning into it, looking up at Ben. "I came here with the intention of repairing our relationship in hopes of one day being friends again."
Only Ben's cocked eyebrow revealed his disbelief. Ian caught the small gesture and elaborated. "Ben, you are idealistic, wholesome, and pure. I am a businessman willing to dabble on both sides of morality if it will get me what I want. Undoubtedly, you will eventually alert the authorities to my presence here and I'll have to knock you and Riley unconscious and steal Riley's car for a quick getaway, but, before I leave, I want you to know that I never wished any harm upon you. When I thought you'd perished in the explosion, it took all my resolve to continue with a fervor that appeared undiminished. When you gave me the slip with that fake declaration, I was almost pleased at the cat and mouse game we had established. And when I left you in that mason shaft, I was truly planning on returning for you once the treasure was securely in my hands. Seeing you in the shadows at the Old North Church revealed to me that you were just as much a part of the game as I was. That is why I'm here now, dripping on your expensive rug."
Ian stretched his arm out to Ben, lightly resting it on Ben's forearm. "I want to know that despite everything, our relationship will still exist, hindered though it may be."
Ben said nothing. Although his faith and trust in Ian was hardly restored by any stretch of the imagination, Ben visibly relaxed.
Ian seemed to decide he was fairly safe for the moment. He gently squeezed Ben's forearm before moving his hand up to Ben's shoulder. Ian's eyes grew dark as he slowly drew close to Ben, pressing his own wet clothes against Ben's chest. Ian brushed Ben's cheek with his own as he eased in, whispering to Ben's ear, "I must say, Gates, that watching you kiss Riley certainly stirred up some memories. I'm sure you don't remember, you were fantastically drunk, just as you are now, and I've learned that you don't tend to recall much after you've had too much to drink. I, on the other hand, do. Since you don't remember, let me replay the scene for you. It happened a few months ago. We were up late, working out your theories. The others had gone to their rooms hours before but we'd stayed there in front of the fireplace talking and drinking. You were leaning over me, reaching for something when I kissed you. It was an amazing kiss, Ben. You were quite surprised, but then you kissed back. I explored and claimed every inch of you that night. After you passed out, I brought you to your room, knowing how you would feel if you woke up next to me, not knowing or remembering how you got there. The next morning, I cooked everyone breakfast and it was business as usual, and you had no clue." Ian leaned back slightly, looking into Ben's face. Ben's eyes were closed.
In a low voice, Ben replied, "I do remember Ian." Ben opened his eyes and dully stared ahead. "I remember. When I woke up, alone in my hotel room, I was confused. And when I found you in your suite making breakfast, you were so unusually cheerful. You slapped my back, said good morning, and handed Shaw a blue-berry pancake. You never mentioned that night, so neither did I."
Slowly, understanding dawned on Ian's face. He stepped back, cradling Ben's face in his hands, and leaned in for a soft kiss. Riley stood back, in complete shock and awe. The kiss he was witnessing was different from any he'd known before. Riley was transfixed, so much so that when the kiss broke, Riley's expression remained, causing a bubble of laughter to erupt in the somber moment Ben and Ian had just experienced.
Ian swung an arm around Ben and eyed Riley. "Riley, I'm afraid I must get out of these clothes before I fall ill. And considering I've rubbed a bit of rain off on Ben here, I think we should get his off too. In fact, it would probably be a good idea to remove your clothing as well...just to be on the safe side."
Riley's eyes grew wide and his face flushed. Riley began stammering something about the ludicrousness of the whole situation when Ben stepped in front of Riley, grabbed the ends of his shirt and pulled it up off over his head, muffling Riley's words in the process. Ben and Ian smiled, admiring Riley's half naked body as if they were at an art exhibit. Riley, acutely aware of the feeling that he was on display, jerkily crossed his arms over his chest and began mumbling that he must, in fact, be insane.
Ian stepped forward, brushing his hands along each curve of Riley's chest, stomach, and arms, finally hovering at Riley's waist. Ben began peeling Ian's wet shirt off of him as well while Ian began kissing around the base of Riley's neck. Ben realized Riley still looked rather uncomfortable and unsure, so, tossing his own shirt aside, Ben crept up behind Riley and wrapped his arms around his waist, lightly kissing the back of his neck while Ian kissed along Riley's jaw.
Riley found himself leaning back into Ben, his head drifting back giving Ian more room to kiss, bite, and tease. This was insanity. This was impossible. This was too damn good to be true.
Ian momentarily stopped his slow exploration of Riley's neck upon hearing a low, quiet, very slight, moan of pleasure escape from his victim. Ian glanced at Ben and motioned to the fireplace in the corner. Ben nodded, and the two slowly maneuvered Riley over to the warm blaze in the red brick. Ben reached out and pulled a soft blanket from the couch, setting it on the floor as he and Ian gently pulled Riley to the ground with them.
Riley took a deep breath and focused his eyes on Ian. "Ben." Riley was not calling to Ben, or for Ben, but rather, calling out to Ian to notify him than Ben should be in the vortex of this imminent storm. Ian nodded and released Riley who swung Ben around pushing him into Ian. Now Riley was kneeling between Ben's legs and Ian had Ben wrapped in his arms (a position he took full advantage of as he began sucking and biting Ben's ear lobes). Riley began unbuttoning Ben's jeans, keeping his eyes on Ian, yet speaking to Ben. "Ben, you haven't had your victory blow job yet. I know it's supposed to be in the form of a shot, but you are in no condition to drink anymore." Riley flashed a full smile and he raked his fingernails beneath Ben's boxers and along his thighs.
The sensations Ben felt were above and beyond any he'd felt before. Riley was teasing along Ben's inner thighs, the waist of his boxer shorts, and his stomach with his mouth and hands while Ian was stroking Ben's sides, arms, and back, licking Ben's earlobe, sucking Ben's neck, and biting at Ben's jaw. Ben could feel the muscle and warmth of Ian's solid torso pressed into his back. He was flowing with the pleasurable sensations when suddenly he inhaled sharply, one arm reaching back, digging into Ian's hair, the other stiff and entangled in Riley's hair.
Riley's mouth was warm cream, smooth silk, wet velvet. It was bliss, it was perfection, it was-"God Riley! Oh God." Riley was being very thorough with his job, sucking, massaging, even humming very low in the deepest level of his voice. As the vibrations of Riley's humming swept through Ben, he shook, as if struck with a jolt of electricity. Ben was breathing hard and straining, sweat beading on his forehead. He began slightly bucking his hips, begging Riley to work faster and harder. Riley slowed his motions down, drawing out Ben's pleasure, while he reached down and pressed beneath the base of Ben's shaft. In slow circles Riley moved 2 fingers, while he stroked his tongue in alternating circles just beneath Ben's head. Riley rolled back, lightly scraping his teeth along all of Ben as he moved. He looked up, seeing Ben and Ian furiously kissing. Riley smiled, pulled his mouth up to the very edge of the tip of Ben before quickly and smoothly sliding his mouth down again. Ben gasped and bit down on Ian's lip. Their kiss grew in intensity. Ben was bucking wildly now, and shaking with sweat. Ian was cradling Ben, one arm over Ben's right shoulder and the other under Ben's left arm. Ian's palms were pressed flat against Ben's chest and he held him so tightly faint, white marks remained when Ian move his hands.
Ian and Ben rocked together following Riley's rhythm. Ben's eyes were shut tight as he began shivering, gasping, and let out a noise which was midway between a groan and a low scream. Every muscle in Ben's body tensed as he twisted his hands in both Riley and Ian's hair. Ben could hear his heart frantically pounding and could feel his blood racing along hot tracks in his body. Ben felt colors pulsing through his brainwaves, flowing around the three of them. As the damn burst, new sensations rippled through his body, shooting out in every direction, bouncing against a barrier of skin only to fly off in a new and different direction. It was a shock wave which seemed unending.
Ben kept his eyes squeezed shut, unable to focus on any one fleeting thought. He vaguely sensed Ian and Riley in the very back of his mind, yet what they were doing or thinking, he couldn't imagine at the moment. Images flooded through Ben's mind. He thought of every rush of adrenaline which had surged through his body over his drawn out adventure searching for the Templar's Treasure. There were quite a few moments, and as they came slower and slower, Ben felt himself easing out of the shivering, spastic state he'd been in for the last...he didn't know how long.
As Ben relaxed, he chuckled, seemingly embarrassed for allowing himself to be so free in the moment. Riley sat back on his haunches, eyes on Ian, wiping the side of his mouth. Ian smiled at Ben, the first truly warm smile Riley had ever seen Ian display. Riley watched as Ian and Ben kissed. This kiss was different from the others. It was slow, it was replenishing, it was soft.
I guess if there's really a big demand for more from this series (and part of me thinks it can't be over yet because I still have not even titled the series) I may need to take up writing NT slash fic again.
Like I said, I did post the 1st 2 parts of this series...but that was way back in June, so I felt justified in reposting them. (I do have some other fic-lets back in the history pages of this community too.)
If you've already read this, cool, I hope you liked it. If you haven't already read this, Hi! My name's CaptainCooze and I try to write slash. :P
PART ONE- "Private Jets and Star Wars"
Characters: Abbey, Ben, Riley
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: you know the drill
As Riley and Ben prepared to board the private jet which would bring them back home, Riley thought about the long ride to Cairo, on this same jet, only two weeks ago.
Riley had read six chapters of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," listened to Blink 182's "Take Off Your Pants and Jacket" all the way through, suffered through Ben's explanation of the significance of his "big, blue man" statue's goatee, and taken a good nap before landing in Egypt with Ben and Abigail.
They were there for the opening of the "Lost Wonders of Egypt" exhibit which featured some of the relics Ben, Riley, and Abigail had recovered (including Riley's big, blue man statue). Abigail was staying behind to work with ARCE (the American Research Center in Egypt) to pour over the scrolls from the library of Alexandria with the best historians and preservationists in the world.
Riley stood at the doorway of the jet watching Ben and Abigail stall for time as they exchanged the typical, infatuated "I love you's," "I'll miss you's," "Call or e-mail every day's," "dont' go falling in love with some handsome young man now," and other such sentiments. Riley made a show of rolling his eyes, impatiently tapping his foot and checking his watch, but Ben and Abbey were dead to the world as they stood on the tarmac, hugging and kissing their good-byes.
"For crying out loud people, you can't be apart for three weeks?" Ben frowned at Riley and pressed his forehead against Abigail's. Riley helplessly threw his hands up in the air and muttered to himself about sensible, intelligent people behaving like lovesick puppies as he went inside the jet to see if the pilots had any good movies with them this time.
Ben sighed, "What am I going to do for the next 21 days?"
Abigail laughed, hugging Ben tightly, "Oh you and Riley will think of something. He is staying with you, right?"
"Hmm? Yeah, he's been offered a job with a major security firm to 'hack-proof' their systems. He needs a place to stay until he gets himself a house."
"Assuming the two of you don't find some other mythical treasure to go hunting for."
Ben feigned a hurt look, "For one thing, the last mythical treasure was real, Dr. Chase, and for another...we're more like treasure protectors anyway."
Abigail playfully swatted Ben's arm, "Well get on that plane before Riley leaves without you."
Pulling her in for a final kiss, Ben growled, "Oh let him leave without me. It'll give me an excuse to stay here with you."
"Uh uh, Mr. Paul Brown, you have work to do back home. Now get your butt on that plane." Ben reluctantly turned and began climbing the stairs. "And Ben, ... I love you."
He waved and smiled, calling back, "I know."
* * * * *
Ben watched Riley out of the corner of his eye. Riley didn't look terribly happy. He was sitting low in his seat watching "Star Wars" on one of the jet's screens, headphones plugged in, blank face staring ahead.
"What?" Yes, Riley wasn't happy.
"Nothing Riley, you just...you don't look too incredibly excited to be going home."
Riley paused before pulling his headphones from his ears and turning to Ben, gripping the arms of his seat. "No Ben, I'm really excited to be going home. In fact, the only way I could be more excited to be going home is if we had left two hours ago as scheduled."
Ben smiled, knowing Riley's anger couldn't last too much longer. "Riley...you seem a little fussy. Maybe you're just hungry. I know, do you need a nap?"
Riley narrowed his eyes, crossed his arms, . . . and pouted (partially because Ben was being very infuriating, and partially because Ben was right). Riley had been dared into eating some very exotic food over the past two weeks, and he desperately needed a cheeseburger and french-fries, smothered in grease and loaded with salt...a truly American meal. But rather than give Ben the satisfaction of knowing he was right, Riley put his headphones back on and continued to watch "Star Wars."
About 10 minutes later Riley fell asleep.
PART TWO-"Billiards and Booze"
Characters- Ben and Riley
Rating- PG-13
Disclaimer- you know the drill
Riley stepped in the door and dropped his bags. He glanced around, impressed by how quickly Abigail had been able to decorate and furnish the place. He'd been there a few times since Abbey and Ben had moved in, but he was still impressed by the Gates/Chase abode. He knew there was some historical meaning attached to the house, and he had thus far managed to escape hearing the tale from Ben, but Riley knew that spending three weeks with Benjamin Gates meant sooner or later he would have to listen to the whole story (complete with many unnecessary and totally unrelated facts).
Ben wordlessly pushed past Riley and went through a high archway. Seconds later, the computerized voice of the answering machine sparked to life. "You have, 43, new messages."
Riley guessed that each message was from a talk show producer, reporter, or historian calling to ask for an interview, an article, or just to kiss Ben's ass in hopes of making up for 4 generations of mockery. Riley smiled to himself, knowing Ben would listen to each and every one in hope of hearing a message from Abigail.
Riley decided to pass the time familiarizing himself with the Gates/Chase home. Riley ascended the staircase, making a mental note to slide down the mahogany banister at least once before Abigail was slated to return. At the top of the stairs, Riley made his way down the hallway, flicking on each light, and poking his head in each room. He found some empty rooms, a library, guest rooms, an office, and more empty rooms. It was unquestionably better than Ben's last home.
Riley thought of the bachelor abode, littered with pizza boxes, artifacts, and papers. Riley laughed, knowing by the time Abbey made it back, her home would definitely have received Ben's unmistakable touch. Riley could already envision the empty take-out boxes (primarily chinese and pizza), scraps of paper with notes for the many articles Ben was supposed to work on, and clothes (probably boxers) precariously hanging from lampshades.
At the end of the hall, Riley found a dark room stocked with cigars and a bar. The entire room was centered around a pool table. He involuntarily shuddered. Briefly, Riley thought that the room was completely devoid of anything resembling Ben's character. There was an aura about the room which he couldn't quite pin down, but the thought didn't trouble Riley for long as he was soon distracted by the rosewood pool cues inlaid with an intricate pattern of ivory. Riley gripped a cue and peeked out the door to be sure Ben was still preoccupied with the answering machine. After a moment, the muffled droning of message after message assured Riley a good 15 minutes of remaining free time.
*****
Ben hadn't been searching for Riley long when the clacking of billiards drew him to the room at the end of the second floor. Ben quietly entered, leaning into the door jamb as he watched Riley. Riley's chest was pressed into the edge of the pool table, his legs stretched and spread out, his butt wagging back and forth as he narrated the game he was playing against an imaginary foe.
"Riley Hot-Shot Poole has definitely been living up to his name today ladies and gentlemen as he has played a dynamic game for the title against league champion and favorite, Mark Hard-Ball Macau. It's Hot-Shot Poole's move. All he's gotta do is sink the 8 ball and the win is his. Poole lines up his shot, you can cut the tension in this room with a butter knife folks, Hot-Shot pulls back..." Riley unsteadily struck the ball. With a loud clack the 8 ball bounced against the opposite end of the felt lined table, curved, and rolled back to him, balancing just on the outside edge of the side pocket. Riley frowned and subtly bumped the table, watching the ball rock back and forth before dropping into the netted abyss, thudding against its billiard brethren who had gone before it. Riley tossed his cue in the air shouting, "DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES!?! YES, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, RILEY HOT-SHOT POOLE HAS DONE IT, HE IS THE NOW UNDEFEATED WORLD-WIDE POOL CHAMPION!" As Riley spun in a circle (mid victory dance) he realized he wasn't alone in the room.
Riley froze, his mouth attempting to form words, but no sounds were escaping. He looked like a fish desperately in need of water. Riley gave up on trying to speak and (in his embarrassment) simply handed his pool cue to Ben while quietly stepping out of the room. A moment later he returned, thumb in the direction of the stairs. "I'm just gonna...go unpack now."
Ben shook his head, set the pool cue on the table, and turned to follow Riley down the stairs. Apparently, Riley had found his voice. He was sitting on the couch, rifling through his bags, quietly muttering to himself.
"Would you like a drink, Mr. Hot-Shot?" Ben smiled and winked at Riley while heading to the kitchen.
Riley shot a look at Ben's back which was very much like the expression of annoyance and disgust he'd worn the first time Ben and Abigail had kissed in front of him. "Rub it in." Riley muttered.
"What's that Riley?"
"Nothing Ben. Do you have any Budweiser?"
Ben returned holding up 2 bottles. "I hope Bud-Light is ok. Abbey does the shopping."
Riley nodded, taking the bottle and a large swig. "So how is it? Living with Abigail I mean."
Ben switched on the stereo and sat down, spreading out on the couch. Light, classical music slowly flooded into the room. "It's good. Different, but good. She's a wonderful woman. I'm very lucky to have her, you know?"
Riley rolled his head back and emitted a low, "yeah." Riley eyed a chessboard set up in the corner of the room. "Hey Ben, do you have any harder stuff in the house?"
Ben thoughtfully cocked his head to the side. "Yes, in the kitchen and in the billiards room bar."
"How many shot glasses do you have?"
*****
"Ok Ben, so the game goes like this, these shot glasses here are the pawns, these are the rooks, these the bishops, and these the knights. Oh, and this is my king and queen, and your king and queen. Now, what we do is, we play a regular game of chess, and when you capture an opponent's 'chess piece,' you take that shot. After check-mate, the loser takes all the remaining shots, and the winner gets a Blow Job." Ben raised his eyebrows at Riley who just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "A Blow Job, you perverted man you, is a shot which one consumes without using one's hands." Riley thoughtfully chewed the inside of his cheek. "Although, I don't think a blow job without the use of hands would truly reach the height of a blow job's maximum potential, you know?"
Ben ignored the statement and asked, "You actually played this game in college?"
"Absolutely, this game is perfect for getting the chess geek type to open up, especially since the winner takes a lot of shots if they capture a lot of their opponents pieces." Riley smiled and adjusted his Queen on the board. "Now, I'll have you know that I was in the chess club in high school, so, prepare to go down Benjamin Franklin Gates...that Blow Job is mine." Riley began cracking his knuckles and shaking out kinks in his neck.
Ben shook his head and smoothed out a wrinkled pants' leg. "That's all well and good, Riley, but I was the regional chess champion when I was in high school and captain of the chess team in college."
Riley gestured, palms out, conceding. "Well then, you first, champ."
*****
Ben slammed the empty shot glass down on the coffee table and shouted, "WHO IS THE MAN? I'M THE MAN! WOOOO!"
Riley laughed, finishing off another beer. "Ben, those are words I never thought I'd hear you say."
Ben just giggled (yes, giggled) and leaned back into the couch. He wagged a finger at Riley and slurred, "I have to give it to you, this is a damn fun game...Mr. Riley Hot-Shot Poole." Ben snorted, another string of giggles erupting.
Riley moved his remaining "knight," careful not to spill its contents on the chess board. "Yeah, well, you think it's fun because you're kicking my ass. Now, I believe it is your move."
Ben focused on the board and smiled. He slid his "queen" 2 spaces to the right and sat back, hands cradling his head. "Check."
Riley pursed his lips and scanned the board. "Damn it." He shrugged and picked a random piece to move. "Fine then, just take me out of my misery, will you?"
Ben triumphantly slid his "queen" into the black box previously occupied by Riley's "king." He picked up both shot glasses and dumped them into his mouth, swishing them around before swallowing. "Ha ha! Ok Riley, you take care of those shots you've gotta drink, and then you make me up my victory Blow Job." Ben jumped up to the stereo and put in a different CD, dancing around the room as "Mack the Knife" began.
Riley smiled, shrugged, and began downing shots. Ben stopped dancing and stared at Riley. Ben sobered slightly as he watched Riley clean up the chess board, almost effortlessly. He sat again and searched Riley's face. "Wow. You did that fast. I thought you weren't much of a drinker."
Riley just shrugged, lining up the empty shot glasses in neat rows. "Oh, they'll probably be hitting me in about...two minutes." He looked into Ben's eyes, the billiards room coming to his mind for some reason he couldn't explain. "Ben, this may seem like a weird question but, well, every room in this house has," Riley searched for the right words, "elements of Abigail's personality, or yours, incorporated in it's decor. It's mostly Abigail's personality but there's a little of you."
Ben looked at the carpet, rubbed his hands and spoke quietly. "Abigail."
Riley faintly pursed his lips, his question about the billiards room already gone. "Ben, are you alright?"
"What? Yeah, yeah, sure." Ben spoke slowly, considering each word. "It's just, I've known Abigail for, what, four months now?" Riley nodded. "And I love her. I think I maybe want to spend the rest of my life with her, maybe. But, there's just something that's, off. It's nothing with her, Abigail's wonderful. Like I said before, I'm truly lucky to have her; but I guess I have my father's words ringing in my ears, you know? I mean, my dad loved one person with all his heart, and that was my mother. When she died, so many people tried to get him to remarry, to move on and find someone else, but he wouldn't. They'd met in college and she was the first, last, and only woman my dad ever loved...ever. And then I come along. I loved in high school, or at least I thought it was love, I loved in college, I loved while I was in my naval training. I guess I've carved out places in my heart for a lot of people. I love Abbey with a huge chunk of my heart. But there's an even bigger part that's still a mystery to me. I know it's hard for you to believe but" Ben stopped, letting out a deep breath. "Maybe it's the alcohol talking but, despite everything, even still, I care about...well, I still care for" Ben paused, brow furrowed, searching his thoughts, "Ian. I care for Ian." Ben inhaled deeply and rushed his words together, his speech slurring again, "And Abigail deserves the best, she deserves everything that I am and everything that I have. You know? But before I marry anyone, I want to know exactly where and with whom all of my feelings lie." Ben looked in Riley's eyes and said in a low, quiet voice, "I just wanna know it's not just something in my head or in my heart."
Riley was so incredibly stunned, the only thing he could manage to say was, "Ian?"
Ben leaned forward, gently clapping his hands around Riley's ears, "Not just Ian." Ben hoped to God this wasn't the alcohol's doing. He leaned in, even closer to Riley's face. His hands slid down, and he ran his thumbs along Riley's jawbone. Ben pulled Riley to him, kissing Riley's upper lip. Only for a moment did Riley hesitate. The next second, Riley was pulling on Ben's lower lip, his own hands on Ben's shoulders, legs pressing into the coffee table which separated them.
Riley could hear rain pattering on the windows and wind blowing across the roof. Another old, big band tune was flowing from the stereo and he could smell the cinnamon candle Ben had lit earler. Riley focused on the kiss, which had deepened. He could taste the alcohol lingering in Ben's mouth and on his breath but there was more than just the taste of countless shots in the kiss. Riley inhaled, taking in the smell of Ben's subtle musky cologne. Ben's face was warm, his mouth wet, and his kiss firm.
Riley almost lost himself in the kiss...almost. From some dark corner of his brain came a blaring warning signal. Riley could faintly hear quiet footsteps along the wooden floor, occasionally muffled by a carpet. The steps drew closer and louder. And then they stopped.
He was afraid to see just who or what was there, but slowly, Riley pulled back from Ben and opened his eyes.
The clothes were completely soaked. The hair was matted and dripping. The stance was one of impenetrable power and assurance. Riley stared, completely frozen.
Ben, sensing something very bad had just happened, slowly turned around. Yet, as surprised as he was, his voice held a tone more sad than shocked.
"Ian."
PART THREE- "Victory Blow Job"
Characters- Ian/Ben/Riley
Rating- R
Disclaimer- You know the drill
Riley was finding it incredibly difficult to comprehend just what exactly had happened. He decided the best way to analyze the situation would be to break it down into digestible pieces. Unfortunately, in the space of time between Riley's brain registering Ian's presence to Riley's brain registering that someone was speaking, all he had managed to work out was that both he and Ben were drunk...very, very drunk. He still had to figure out how his mouth had gotten attached to Ben's, where else on Ben his mouth wanted to go, why it wanted to go there, and why Ian's mouth was in Ben's house at all rather than in a prison cell where the rest of his body was supposed to be.
"Ian."
Ian stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Ben. Riley." He inclined his head slightly in the direction of the two men. Ben, sitting at the couch, was twisted around, watching Ian's eyes as he spoke. Riley, sitting across from Ben in a black armchair, seemed to be completely detached from the events currently taking place.
Ian ran a hand through his wet hair and smiled. "Enjoying a friendly drinking game together, are we? Funny, I never put you down as the type for drunkenness and, ah...debauchery, Gates."
Ben coughed awkwardly, and stood, attempting to casually mask a hasty wiping of his lips with the back of his hand. "We all need to loosen up every now and again, right Ian?" Ben was trying to appear calm and relaxed, but his muscles were tense and he had the aura of a cornered animal; unsure if its predator is just toying with it or going in for the kill.
The corner of Ian's mouth quirked upward ever so slightly and he raised a brow as he conceded, "So we do." Without waiting for an invitation, he picked up a half full bottle of whiskey and righted one of Ben's fallen "pieces," filling it to the brim and knocking it back in one go. He licked his lips critically, swallowing several times to evaluate the after-taste of the liquor. He contemptuously sniffed the shot glass and grinned at Ben, parting his lips in something that was about 60% smile, 40% sneer. "Swill. Cheap swill, at that. Honestly, Ben, I thought you had better taste."
"It's his." Ben jerked his thumb at Riley, pulling Riley's wandering thoughts back to the unfolding events at hand. Riley started, realizing that something amiss was being (once again) pinned on him, and unsteadily hoisted himself up, swatting Ben's shoulder. Ian, strangely enough, looked intrigued.
Riley was slowly making his way past the couch, eyes low, shoulders slightly hunched forward. "So, Ian," Riley began, not terribly sure of what to say, considering the fact that, not long ago, the man staring at him had done several things which could qualify as attempted murder. "How, umm, how's it, uhh, well, ... goin'?" Riley continued to mutter and grope for words, feeling very lost and unsure of himself. He desperately hoped this was all a bad, alcohol induced, unconscious dream.
Ian ignored Riley's stammering attempts at speech and reached forward to gently cup his chin. At this, Riley fell completely and utterly silent. Riley was positive this was no dream. Alcohol alone could not explain the sheer bizarreness of the whole situation. Pot? Maybe. Shrooms? Definitely. Alcohol? Not a chance.
Ian continued as though Riley had never spoken, "I see you managed to keep yourselves entertained." Keeping his eyes on Ben, Ian dragged a calloused thumb over Riley's lips, pink and swollen from kissing. Ian gave both men a very meaningful look. Riley swallowed hard, still not sure what, exactly, Ian was planning on doing. Riley doubted very much that Ian had sought he and Ben out just to have a few beers and shoot the breeze before heading back to his prison cell.
Riley's easily distracted mind began playing with that scenario. He imagined Ian orchestrating an elaborate escape with the sole purpose of having a friendly chat with the very men who put him in prison. After they'd laughed at jokes, listened to Ian's prison stories, and played a good game of pool, Ian would head off into the rain and back to his cell where, after "lights-out," he would excitedly tell his prison-mates about his trip to the outside. Riley frowned. There was that nagging thought about the pool room again.
Suddenly, interrupting Riley's thought process, he noticed there were lips on his. After a moment of shock, (not knowing what else to do) Riley began to yield, to explore, and to flow with the kiss. It was better and worse, similar and yet completely different from Ben's. Ian's kiss was hard and insistent and violent and the ferocity with which he was ravishing Riley's mouth felt like an assault. Ben's kiss was slow and sweet and languorous; he was a maddening tease and he knew it. Ian's was bruisingly rough; fire and passion with no pretenses, and Riley relished the unbridled wildness of it. Ian's hands were sweet demons, stealing down Riley's body, sometimes brushing, feather-light, over his skin, sometimes gripping like a vice, making Riley squirm and buck beneath him.
And just as suddenly as the kiss began, it ended. Riley fell through the now vacant space occupied seconds earlier by Ian's intoxicating resolve and claiming power. Ian steadied Riley with a firm hand. As Riley looked about, bewildered, Ian chuckled, shaking his head. "Always the eager one."
"What are you doing here, Ian?" Ben's voice was quiet, but commanding. He seemed to no longer be making weak attempts at a nonchalant attitude. Instead, he was now direct and firm. Riley glanced back and forth between the two men. His mouth was open slightly, but he, very wisely, was not saying a word.
Ian's eyes grew cold and his smile faded as he and Ben locked into each other's gaze. The words he spat out were a unique blend of contempt and sarcasm. "Well Ben, as I'm sure you know, I was being held in a minimum security prison. There are countless ways one can escape from such a petitentary." Ian's smile returned. "Maybe I bribed a few guards. Possibly an associate of mine aided in my premature release from incarceration. Or, perhaps I dug a tunnel from the floor of my cell to just outside the prison fence with a spoon stolen from the cafeteria? Those are just some possibilities mind you, I won't bore you with the specifics of my departure."
Ben repeated himself, speaking more slowly and forcefully, "What are you doing here, Ian?"
Ian lowered his eyes and spoke quietly. "Gates, we were mates, you and I. I believed in you, supported you, and defended you. When it looked like we would never find the Charlotte, I stayed with you." Ian looked up and nodded in Riley's direction. "When you chose to bring Riley into it, I didn't agree with your decision but I allowed it. Even when we...went our separate ways, as it were,...we were still close, both pursuing invariably the same thing. We're a lot alike, you and I. We are determined, strong, clever, charismatic, and we both love the chase." Ian stepped forward and gripped the back edge of the couch, leaning into it, looking up at Ben. "I came here with the intention of repairing our relationship in hopes of one day being friends again."
Only Ben's cocked eyebrow revealed his disbelief. Ian caught the small gesture and elaborated. "Ben, you are idealistic, wholesome, and pure. I am a businessman willing to dabble on both sides of morality if it will get me what I want. Undoubtedly, you will eventually alert the authorities to my presence here and I'll have to knock you and Riley unconscious and steal Riley's car for a quick getaway, but, before I leave, I want you to know that I never wished any harm upon you. When I thought you'd perished in the explosion, it took all my resolve to continue with a fervor that appeared undiminished. When you gave me the slip with that fake declaration, I was almost pleased at the cat and mouse game we had established. And when I left you in that mason shaft, I was truly planning on returning for you once the treasure was securely in my hands. Seeing you in the shadows at the Old North Church revealed to me that you were just as much a part of the game as I was. That is why I'm here now, dripping on your expensive rug."
Ian stretched his arm out to Ben, lightly resting it on Ben's forearm. "I want to know that despite everything, our relationship will still exist, hindered though it may be."
Ben said nothing. Although his faith and trust in Ian was hardly restored by any stretch of the imagination, Ben visibly relaxed.
Ian seemed to decide he was fairly safe for the moment. He gently squeezed Ben's forearm before moving his hand up to Ben's shoulder. Ian's eyes grew dark as he slowly drew close to Ben, pressing his own wet clothes against Ben's chest. Ian brushed Ben's cheek with his own as he eased in, whispering to Ben's ear, "I must say, Gates, that watching you kiss Riley certainly stirred up some memories. I'm sure you don't remember, you were fantastically drunk, just as you are now, and I've learned that you don't tend to recall much after you've had too much to drink. I, on the other hand, do. Since you don't remember, let me replay the scene for you. It happened a few months ago. We were up late, working out your theories. The others had gone to their rooms hours before but we'd stayed there in front of the fireplace talking and drinking. You were leaning over me, reaching for something when I kissed you. It was an amazing kiss, Ben. You were quite surprised, but then you kissed back. I explored and claimed every inch of you that night. After you passed out, I brought you to your room, knowing how you would feel if you woke up next to me, not knowing or remembering how you got there. The next morning, I cooked everyone breakfast and it was business as usual, and you had no clue." Ian leaned back slightly, looking into Ben's face. Ben's eyes were closed.
In a low voice, Ben replied, "I do remember Ian." Ben opened his eyes and dully stared ahead. "I remember. When I woke up, alone in my hotel room, I was confused. And when I found you in your suite making breakfast, you were so unusually cheerful. You slapped my back, said good morning, and handed Shaw a blue-berry pancake. You never mentioned that night, so neither did I."
Slowly, understanding dawned on Ian's face. He stepped back, cradling Ben's face in his hands, and leaned in for a soft kiss. Riley stood back, in complete shock and awe. The kiss he was witnessing was different from any he'd known before. Riley was transfixed, so much so that when the kiss broke, Riley's expression remained, causing a bubble of laughter to erupt in the somber moment Ben and Ian had just experienced.
Ian swung an arm around Ben and eyed Riley. "Riley, I'm afraid I must get out of these clothes before I fall ill. And considering I've rubbed a bit of rain off on Ben here, I think we should get his off too. In fact, it would probably be a good idea to remove your clothing as well...just to be on the safe side."
Riley's eyes grew wide and his face flushed. Riley began stammering something about the ludicrousness of the whole situation when Ben stepped in front of Riley, grabbed the ends of his shirt and pulled it up off over his head, muffling Riley's words in the process. Ben and Ian smiled, admiring Riley's half naked body as if they were at an art exhibit. Riley, acutely aware of the feeling that he was on display, jerkily crossed his arms over his chest and began mumbling that he must, in fact, be insane.
Ian stepped forward, brushing his hands along each curve of Riley's chest, stomach, and arms, finally hovering at Riley's waist. Ben began peeling Ian's wet shirt off of him as well while Ian began kissing around the base of Riley's neck. Ben realized Riley still looked rather uncomfortable and unsure, so, tossing his own shirt aside, Ben crept up behind Riley and wrapped his arms around his waist, lightly kissing the back of his neck while Ian kissed along Riley's jaw.
Riley found himself leaning back into Ben, his head drifting back giving Ian more room to kiss, bite, and tease. This was insanity. This was impossible. This was too damn good to be true.
Ian momentarily stopped his slow exploration of Riley's neck upon hearing a low, quiet, very slight, moan of pleasure escape from his victim. Ian glanced at Ben and motioned to the fireplace in the corner. Ben nodded, and the two slowly maneuvered Riley over to the warm blaze in the red brick. Ben reached out and pulled a soft blanket from the couch, setting it on the floor as he and Ian gently pulled Riley to the ground with them.
Riley took a deep breath and focused his eyes on Ian. "Ben." Riley was not calling to Ben, or for Ben, but rather, calling out to Ian to notify him than Ben should be in the vortex of this imminent storm. Ian nodded and released Riley who swung Ben around pushing him into Ian. Now Riley was kneeling between Ben's legs and Ian had Ben wrapped in his arms (a position he took full advantage of as he began sucking and biting Ben's ear lobes). Riley began unbuttoning Ben's jeans, keeping his eyes on Ian, yet speaking to Ben. "Ben, you haven't had your victory blow job yet. I know it's supposed to be in the form of a shot, but you are in no condition to drink anymore." Riley flashed a full smile and he raked his fingernails beneath Ben's boxers and along his thighs.
The sensations Ben felt were above and beyond any he'd felt before. Riley was teasing along Ben's inner thighs, the waist of his boxer shorts, and his stomach with his mouth and hands while Ian was stroking Ben's sides, arms, and back, licking Ben's earlobe, sucking Ben's neck, and biting at Ben's jaw. Ben could feel the muscle and warmth of Ian's solid torso pressed into his back. He was flowing with the pleasurable sensations when suddenly he inhaled sharply, one arm reaching back, digging into Ian's hair, the other stiff and entangled in Riley's hair.
Riley's mouth was warm cream, smooth silk, wet velvet. It was bliss, it was perfection, it was-"God Riley! Oh God." Riley was being very thorough with his job, sucking, massaging, even humming very low in the deepest level of his voice. As the vibrations of Riley's humming swept through Ben, he shook, as if struck with a jolt of electricity. Ben was breathing hard and straining, sweat beading on his forehead. He began slightly bucking his hips, begging Riley to work faster and harder. Riley slowed his motions down, drawing out Ben's pleasure, while he reached down and pressed beneath the base of Ben's shaft. In slow circles Riley moved 2 fingers, while he stroked his tongue in alternating circles just beneath Ben's head. Riley rolled back, lightly scraping his teeth along all of Ben as he moved. He looked up, seeing Ben and Ian furiously kissing. Riley smiled, pulled his mouth up to the very edge of the tip of Ben before quickly and smoothly sliding his mouth down again. Ben gasped and bit down on Ian's lip. Their kiss grew in intensity. Ben was bucking wildly now, and shaking with sweat. Ian was cradling Ben, one arm over Ben's right shoulder and the other under Ben's left arm. Ian's palms were pressed flat against Ben's chest and he held him so tightly faint, white marks remained when Ian move his hands.
Ian and Ben rocked together following Riley's rhythm. Ben's eyes were shut tight as he began shivering, gasping, and let out a noise which was midway between a groan and a low scream. Every muscle in Ben's body tensed as he twisted his hands in both Riley and Ian's hair. Ben could hear his heart frantically pounding and could feel his blood racing along hot tracks in his body. Ben felt colors pulsing through his brainwaves, flowing around the three of them. As the damn burst, new sensations rippled through his body, shooting out in every direction, bouncing against a barrier of skin only to fly off in a new and different direction. It was a shock wave which seemed unending.
Ben kept his eyes squeezed shut, unable to focus on any one fleeting thought. He vaguely sensed Ian and Riley in the very back of his mind, yet what they were doing or thinking, he couldn't imagine at the moment. Images flooded through Ben's mind. He thought of every rush of adrenaline which had surged through his body over his drawn out adventure searching for the Templar's Treasure. There were quite a few moments, and as they came slower and slower, Ben felt himself easing out of the shivering, spastic state he'd been in for the last...he didn't know how long.
As Ben relaxed, he chuckled, seemingly embarrassed for allowing himself to be so free in the moment. Riley sat back on his haunches, eyes on Ian, wiping the side of his mouth. Ian smiled at Ben, the first truly warm smile Riley had ever seen Ian display. Riley watched as Ian and Ben kissed. This kiss was different from the others. It was slow, it was replenishing, it was soft.
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