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selfevident_nt
Series Title: (still no title as of yet)
Characters: Abbey, Ben, Riley
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: you know the drill
PART ONE-"Private Jets and Star Wars"
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 Wonder's 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"
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 wordlessly 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 hell of 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 on 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."
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 his third 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...elements of Abigail's personality, or yours, incorporated in it's decor...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 really do. 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 great. Like I said before, I'm really 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 date again, to get over her death, to 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 like that...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 for...well, I still care for..." Ben paused, brow furrowed, searching his thoughts, "Ian. I care for Ian. 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. 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. 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."
selfevident_ntSeries Title: (still no title as of yet)
Characters: Abbey, Ben, Riley
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: you know the drill
PART ONE-"Private Jets and Star Wars"
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 Wonder's 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"
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 wordlessly 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 hell of 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 on 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."
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 his third 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...elements of Abigail's personality, or yours, incorporated in it's decor...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 really do. 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 great. Like I said before, I'm really 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 date again, to get over her death, to 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 like that...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 for...well, I still care for..." Ben paused, brow furrowed, searching his thoughts, "Ian. I care for Ian. 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. 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. 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."
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