wannabe pondy

Writer's Block: Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

cloudysky — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 15:35:30 GMT

Silent Night and Carol of the Bells ♥

Just a reminder about Christmas cards!

cloudysky — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 14:52:54 GMT

For those of you who haven't yet...

If you want a card off me hop on over to this post here!

~

I'm going to try and update later in the week. Sorry I haven't been around all that much. I'd say things have been hectic, but only a little, so it's not much of an excuse lol.

It's that time of year again - Christmas cards!

cloudysky — Sat, 05 Nov 2011 15:43:46 GMT

I saw that someone else had done this the other day (a post I completely forgot to reply to actually, so if it was yours, wave me in that general direction), so I figured I'd follow suit and get myself organised early on.

It's Christmas Card Time!

If you'd like to receive a Christmas card from me, leave a comment on this post with your name and address by the 4th December. If you're in the UK, you can have an extra week, so by the 12th December. All comments will be screened, so there's no need to worry about anyone else getting hold of your information, I just want to spread the joy a little.

P.S. If you're reading this via Facebook and want a card, please hop over to Livejournal to leave a comment or the world and his wife will be able to see your address.

Fic: First Class: In Our Sleep As We Speak

cloudysky — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 19:05:57 GMT

Title: In Our Sleep As We Speak
Author: cloudysky
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Alex/Hank (pre-slash)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 1,414
Summary: Alex has taken to using Hank as a pillow. It takes a while, but Hank begins to think it's not such a bad thing.
A/N: Originally written for 1stclass_kink, full prompt can be found here.

In Our Sleep As We Speak

The first time it happens they’re all sat around listening to records in the drawing room, relaxing after a long day of training. Hank is flicking leisurely through a book, Alex sat beside him tiresomely picking at his nails and Sean sprawled out across the floor doing – well, Hank’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, but he seems pretty engrossed in whatever it is. It’s a typical evening really, no doubt Charles or Erik will be along soon to either tell them to go to bed or keep them up even longer with tall tales.

Raven is around somewhere, Hank doesn’t know where, but he doesn’t like to pry. As the only female (he’s never really counted Moira) in a house full of men, she’s entitled to her privacy and he wouldn’t want to intrude.

Anyway, he’s getting away from himself...

The first time it happens is a bit of a shock, for everyone involved.

Hank has just turned a page in his book, reading eagerly, when he feels a warm weight pressing against his side. He turns and starts, finding himself face-to-face with a dozing Alex, who seems to be quite content in using him as a pillow all of a sudden. He stares for several long moments, and then kicks a leg out in Sean’s direction, whispering frantically, ‘Help me!’

Sean doesn’t do much in the way of help and proceeds to burst out laughing. ‘What the--?’ he starts.

‘Help me,’ Hank repeats, snapping his book shut and gesturing to Alex again, just in case the other boy really is being that dim.

Moving slowly, Sean shifts to sit back on his heels and cocks his head, staring in utter bewilderment. ‘What exactly do you expect me to do to help you?’ he asks.

Hank sighs heavily, he’s being ridiculous, Alex is only asleep after all, it’s not as though he’s doing any harm. But why is he asleep on him of all people? This is not normal, not for them. Alex is supposed to hate him... or something.

He’s panicking now and Sean is doing nothing to help the situation, his laughter only becoming louder as Alex curls in closer.

When Alex begins to nuzzle Hank’s neck a moment later, he finally snaps, leaping away from the other boy without warning. Alex awakes with a start, tumbling off the couch and ending up face first on the floor, narrowly missing Sean.

Awkwardly, Hank extends a hand toward him and mumbles, ‘Sorry, are you all right?’

Alex clearly doesn’t appreciate the concern and scrambles to his feet without a word, stalking out of the room.

It falls quiet once he’s gone, something that is only rectified when Sean lets out a low whistle and adds, ‘Way to go, man! That went well!’

Hank narrows his eyes and says nothing.

*

It happens again two days later, when Hank is busy in his lab and Alex is supposed to be there for various tests concerning his chest plate. While Hank has his back turned, however, the younger boy sidles right up to the edge of the desk and falls asleep cuddled up to Hank’s lab coat.

Hank is extremely happy it’s not something he’s wearing this time.

By the time Alex has stirred again it’s beginning to get late, but Hank is still busy, head bowed low as he fiddles with various wires.

‘What are you doing?’

He jumps, startled, and smacks his head off the desk lamp with a hollow clang.

Alex looks suitably guilty, for perhaps the first time in his life. ‘Sorry,’ he mutters.

Turning to face him, absently rubbing at the back of his head, Hank lets a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. He shrugs in response to Alex’s apology, not entirely sure what to say. ‘I believe we’re almost there,’ he announces finally, answering the earlier question instead. ‘Should be finished by morning and we – I mean, you can test it out.’

‘Great.’

An awkward silence settles, Hank finds he’s getting used to them now, and then Alex takes his leave, racing out the room without so much as a thank you. It stings, but Hank’s used to that, too.

*

Twenty minutes later Hank realises his lab coat smells of Alex... and it’s not entirely unpleasant.

*

By Saturday night, they’re all completely worn out, the constant training taking its toll. Raven is the only one who refuses to succumb to sleep, contentedly dancing around the kitchen and occasionally reaching for Hank’s hand in an attempt to entice him to come and join her. He doesn’t and, without a word, takes another sip of his cola, gaze straying to Alex and Sean, who are deep in conversation.

Sean has been talking non stop for the past half an hour and Alex, trying to polite, is nodding along and offering the occasional noncommittal grunt. He’s clearly fives seconds away from dropping to sleep on the table.

Since working out the kinks in Alex’s chest plate, he’d been training harder than ever, something Hank always tagged along for, keen to see his creation being put to test.

It’s understandable that Alex would be so tired.

Another hour or so passes before anyone makes a move though and Raven, surprisingly, is the first. Sean excuses himself shortly afterwards to visit the bathroom, and then Hank is left alone with Alex once again.

Hank spends several agonising moments trying to come up with something to say, but then an overtired Alex practically passes out and he finds the younger boy slumped against his arm. It doesn’t come as a shock this time and, in fact, he’s beginning to find he’s growing increasingly used to it. Nor does he mind – when Alex is asleep he can’t do anything to offend.

Scooting his chair closer, trying to make as little noise as possible as he does so, Hank let’s Alex get comfortable. Alex does so without hesitation, muttering something about ‘pretty eyes’ before curling himself into Hank’s side, fingers clutching blindly at the fabric of his shirt. Hank tries his hardest to ignore the involuntary lurch of his stomach. (He finds the sweaty palms a little more difficult to hide.)

Sean’s entrance several moments later is hardly a surprise. He comes to a screeching halt, eyebrows raised so high they’re hidden somewhere behind his unruly hair, and then exclaims, ‘Dude!’

No one moves, especially not Alex.

‘He’s – I--’ Hank closes his eyes, fully aware that he’s blushing. ‘It’s fine,’ he adds awkwardly.

Sean takes a step forward, almost as though he’s testing the waters, his face screwed up in playful concentration. When he reaches a hand out toward his sleeping friend, Hank is quick to intercept, hissing, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Umm...’ Snatching his hand back, Sean glances between them both, and then says casually, ‘Nothing.’

Hank’s tempted to argue the point, but instead attempts to shoo Sean away with a flick of his wrist. It fails, completely, and he soon finds himself being laughed at instead.

They go about this for a couple of minutes until Sean finally tires and backs off, arms folded across his chest. ‘All right, man, I get the point. I was only joking,’ he says. Even though he sounds annoyed, his eyes are still twinkling with mirth, Sean’s always been ridiculously transparent. ‘I’ll give you two some privacy or whatever.’

‘W-what?’ Hank splutters. ‘What are you talking about?’

Sean stares at him, the look in his eyes practically screaming out are you stupid? and Hank thinks that yes, he probably is. He sighs and looks down at Alex who, almost on cue, edges closer and mumbles, ‘Don’t move...’ It’s barely coherent and Hank’s sure he’s the only one who hears.

‘See you in the morning, yeah?’

Sean ducks out of the kitchen without another word and Hank, attention still on Alex, decides that if the other boy wants to sleep on him, they may as well get comfortable while he does it.

*

When Hank wakes the next morning, blurry eyed and dry mouthed, Alex is still there. He’s sitting at the foot of the bed, legs crossed, watching over him. Generally Hank would consider that kind of behaviour weird, but this is Alex... and he’s actually still there!

In the end it takes Alex a second to realise that Hank is looking back, but when he does he doesn’t move, only smiles and says, gingerly, ‘We should do this more often...’

Fic: First Class: There's Always One

cloudysky — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 16:20:57 GMT

Title: There's Always One
Author: cloudysky
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Alex/various, Alex/Hank
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 1,380
Summary: "Five times Alex Summers loved someone, and the one time they loved him back."
A/N: Originally written for 1stclass_kink, full prompt can be found here.

There's Always One

When Alex Summers was four he fell in love with a playmate. It wasn’t real love, he knows that now, but they would chase each other around and around her garden for hours, their mother’s laughing between themselves as he tried to steal a kiss. He never got one though, it didn’t matter how hard he tried, and he didn’t care... not really.

Six months later however, she moved away, and he soon found out that the only friend’s he had left were his trusty tin soldiers and the cat from next-door.

He cared then.

Alex was seven when it happened again. It was the first day of second grade and he fell in love with his teacher, Miss Lawrence, who had the prettiest smile he had ever seen. And so, he went home that very afternoon and told his mother that he wanted to marry her, he didn’t care that she was old. His mother laughed, patted him lovingly on the shoulder, and told him to go out and play.

On his second day he took Miss Lawrence an apple. He did the same again the next day and the day after that. In fact, he did so every day for the next month and she would smile, tell him ‘thank you’... and then start talking about math.

He didn’t love her for very much longer after that.

Two summers later a new student transferred to his school and into his grade. His name was Michael and he had moved from California, from Hollywood. Hollywood! Alex liked him straight away and before he knew what was happening, he was tailing the other boy everywhere. It took him a month to realise that Michael didn’t actually like his company all that much and when he told Alex so, Alex felt his heart break.

He supposed that he had loved him, too.

On his thirteenth birthday, whilst he was out on his paper route, Alex discovered May, a pretty girl from the grade above. He cycled past her house and saw her sitting on the porch braiding her little sister’s hair. It was love at first sight and the next day at school he told her just that. She flushed beetroot red, told him to go away, and then ran off with her friends to play on the monkey bars.

Two weeks later he spotted her on the porch again and, distracted while waving at her, he cycled straight into her neighbour’s mailbox. She didn’t help, she stood there and laughed at him... and laughed some more.

It didn’t take him long to figure out that the feeling hadn’t been mutual.

It never was, not for him.

At fifteen Alex’s powers finally manifested, he blew a hole in his ceiling following a particularly nasty nightmare one night. No one was entirely sure what to do and three months later, when his parents died in an accident, he found himself dumped in an orphanage with what little life he had being stripped away from him.

It was the easiest option they had said. He didn’t even know who they were, but they said it. Why did they get to decide his fate?

After that, things gradually became worse and he forgot how to care, shutting out the world.

It wasn’t until he turned eighteen and was left to fend for himself that he realised this may have been a mistake. No one wanted to know him and, in all honestly, he didn’t blame them. He hated himself and he hated the world around him for making him the way he was. Being around people simply wasn’t an option anymore and when he found himself caught up in a fight several weeks later, it became clear that he really couldn’t be either.

The jail sentence was inevitable. No one – not even he – could explain how someone had ended up losing part of their anatomy without the aid of some kind of sharp object. Alex was a psycho, that was the long and short of it, and some days he began to wonder whether they were actually right.

Solitary confinement came later, it came after months of begging and pleading and causing unnecessary trouble. The prison wardens and the cops weren’t happy about it, but for the first time in years, Alex felt that he was where he belonged.

He didn’t have much need to care from then on out.

That was, until Charles and Erik showed up.

*

‘Alex, you really should eat something...’

Alex glances up from the spot he’s sat in, slumped against the bunker wall, eyeing Hank suspiciously. The older boy fidgets nervously beneath his stare, free hand coming up to push his glasses awkwardly back up his nose. A moment later he thrusts a plate towards Alex, reiterating his point with actions instead. There’s a sandwich sitting on it, nothing exciting, but it’s food and Alex would be lying if he said he wasn’t hungry.

‘Go away, Hank,’ he mutters, ignoring the protests of his rumbling stomach regardless. ‘I’m fine.’

‘But Charles insisted I--’

‘I SAID GO AWAY!’

Alex still hasn’t been able to get used to the constant company people are throwing upon him. He doesn’t want it and they refuse to understand, Hank especially for some reason. They may be the same, kin, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be bugged every second of the day.

It takes him several minutes to realise that Hank hasn’t moved and craning his head over in the other boy’s direction, he narrows his eyes. ‘You’re still here,’ he says and it comes out like a challenge. ‘Can’t you take a hint, bo--?’ He doesn’t finish, but sees the hurt in Hank’s eyes anyway. ‘I’m sorry – I didn’t--’

It’s no good, the damage has been done.

Hank leaves this time, but not before placing the plate down on the floor with a soft clunk, still insistent that Alex doesn’t starve himself.

He manages to hold back for all of five seconds before pouncing on the plate, wolfing the sandwich down greedily. It’s only when he’s finished his third mouthful and glanced back up, brushing the crumbs from his clothes, that he notices movement out of the corner of his eye.

Apparently Hank didn’t leave after all.

‘I can see you,’ Alex announces, taking another eager bite of the sandwich in his hand.

A sheepish looking Hank appears around the door a moment later, stammering some kind of ridiculous apology. He’s bright red, flustered and his glasses have slipped down his nose again, his earlier efforts a complete waste of time. ‘Wanted to make sure you were--’

‘I’m fine, Hank, I told you that,’ insists Alex, his features softening a little.

‘You have been spending an awful lot of time down here alone,’ Hank continues, oblivious. ‘I understand that you wanted to be on your own while you were in prison-’ (he stumbles over the word, embarrassed for even bringing it up) ‘-but people care about you here. You’re with friends. Even if you don’t treat some of us like it sometimes.’

Alex tries not to react to the backhand comment, although his gaze shifts and he suddenly finds himself unable to finish his snack. He’d never once meant it spitefully.

‘We’d like to see you upstairs for dinner today if you--’

‘I’ll be there.’ He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Hanks smiles, a little wider than Alex anticipated. ‘Great! That’s – yes!’ The reply is awkward, but in a good way. ‘Seven then, as usual.’

When he turns to go, Alex finds himself scrambling to his feet, and catching hold of the other boy’s arm before he reaches the door. He’s met with a questioning stare and incredibly blue eyes and, for a moment, he finds himself rendered speechless. Hank prompts him by yanking his arm from Alex’s vicelike grip.

‘Thank you,’ Alex says.

Hank blinks, confused. ‘Thank you?’ he repeats.

‘For caring...’

‘Oh.’ He’s still confused, but there’s a hint of something else behind those eyes. ‘You’re welcome.’

This time Alex lets him go and when he slips back down to the ground, his back resting against the hard cement, there’s a smile on his face.

Maybe this time he’s not the only one.

And it's done.

cloudysky — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 20:11:03 GMT

Friends cut is all done!

If you can read this entry, congrats, you made it. If not, you were probably one of the sixty odd journals I cut. Sorry.

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (10/10).

cloudysky — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 17:49:06 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (10/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,996.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

10.

For the third time in the past two minutes Ben strained to hear exactly what his brother was saying. He cowered in the corner, phone pressed hard to his ear, a finger in the other to try and block out the commotion going on around him.

‘It’s no good, Jack, I can’t hear a word you’re saying!’ he concluded.

As he announced this, the noise around him became suddenly worse and Daisy shrieked, ‘Oh Simon, no!’

Turning on the spot and snapping his mobile shut, Ben took in the sight before him. He’d only been on the phone for five minutes, but even that had been long enough for chaos to ensue. Daisy was stood at the end of the breakfast bar, the contents of the bowl that had been sat in front of Simon several minutes ago, now all over her instead. She had Rice Krispies in her hair and milk dripping down her arms. At her feet their dog, Sampson, was lapping up what had made it to the floor.

‘What happened?’ Ben questioned, placing his phone down on the counter and reaching for some kitchen roll.

Daisy glared at him. She didn’t need to answer.

Taking this as read, he handed the kitchen roll over and turned his attention to Sophie instead, lifting her from the highchair and leaving Daisy alone to deal with her son.

He had to admit that he now regretted his and Will’s decision to arrive before breakfast. There was absolutely no reason for them to be around and, if anything, they were only making the situation worse by exciting the kids.

This was the last day they were going to spend with Will’s niece and nephew before they moved to Wales; a daytrip to Legoland Windsor, followed by a pizza from the takeaway and a couple of Disney movies. It should have been great, it would have been great, but their presence had delayed breakfast and they were already running an hour and a half late.

Stepping into the living room, Sophie wriggling in his arms, Ben found Will sat in front of the TV twiddling his thumbs.

‘Hey, Uncle Will, would it kill you to help?’ he asked with a soft laugh. ‘Your poor sister’s about to have a breakdown in there.’

Will looked up and grinned. ‘She can cope,’ he said.

With a casual shrug, Ben lowered Sophie down to the floor, who then immediately made a break toward her Uncle and threw herself at him with great enthusiasm. ‘I’m not so sure, I think the sooner we’re out of here with the kids, the better.’ He took a seat beside Will, smiled, and then reached out to tap Sophie on the end of her nose. ‘Jack called me again,’ he said, dropping the fact casually into the conversation. ‘He claims that Mum is starting to worry she won’t see me before we leave.’

‘We should go and see your parents though, Ben,’ murmured Will, which Ben had been expecting. ‘You know it’s the right thing to do. Be the bigger person for once and all that.’

Dropping his gaze, Ben sighed. ‘I really hate having to be the bigger person,’ he muttered.

Will laughed. ‘Oh, I know.’

Deciding not to dignify that with a response, Ben cast a glance in the direction of the door just as Daisy appeared with Simon in tow. She still had Rice Krispies all over her, but at least she was smiling now.

As for Simon, he was bouncing around all over the place, a pair of Bob the Builder sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.

‘Ready to go?’ asked Daisy brightly.

Ben realised they didn’t exactly have any choice in the matter.

*

All in all, the day out with the kids went as well as it could have done. There were no temper tantrums, no one was sick after eating too much ice-cream and it didn’t rain. Around four though, Will decided to take the bull by the horns, stole Ben’s phone and called up Jack. They were due to drop the kids off at six (pizza and Disney were off thanks to the late start), so he arranged for them to stop in at Ben’s parents house at eight. Jack promised he’d be there to mediate.

It had taken Ben half an hour to realise his phone was missing. When he did and Will informed him of what was happening, he slipped into a sulk, moping around the theme park for the next hour, with Sophie tailing after him.

Between dropping the kids off and arriving at Ben’s parents’ house, they stopped at the flat briefly to change clothes and grab food. Ben was still in a strop and for five minutes actually refused point-blank to even leave again. Will talked him around with a soft smile and a promise to make it up once they got home that night.

It worked, rather well in fact, and at eight fifteen they were being shown into the hallway by Ben’s father.

‘We’re so glad you changed your mind about coming to see us,’ he said, every word sincere. But then, it never had been his father that Ben had the problem with and, sure enough, five seconds later they were embracing like long lost friends.

Will stood in the wings and allowed things to play out how they may, not wanting to get himself too involved.

Eventually they all settled down with a cup of tea in the living room, both Ben and his mother falling into a stony silence that left the other men with no choice but to keep the conversation flowing. Will already knew this wasn’t going to turn out how he had hoped and by the looks he was now receiving; he could pretty much guarantee it. He almost expected Ben’s mother to accuse him of turning her eldest son gay in a minute or two. As far as he was aware, this was the first time he’d ever been on the receiving end of such blatant dislike.

‘Can we stop all of this please?’

It was Jack who spoke, clearly having had enough now of the hostile atmosphere.

‘This is no way to carry on,’ he said, glancing around the room. ‘We’re meant to be a family. We’re meant to be there for one another.’

‘I didn’t start this,’ murmured Ben. ‘I’ll stop when she does.’

Will sighed softly and glanced over in Jack’s direction, who had elicited a similar reaction. Apparently his pleas for Ben to be the bigger person had fallen on deaf ears and if someone didn’t budge soon, they’d get absolutely nowhere before they left for Wales. Maybe Ben didn’t mind if he lost his family after all.

Reaching out a hand, Will gently placed it to Ben’s arm, hoping to urge him along. ‘Don’t do this,’ he whispered on a breath. ‘Please don’t do this.’

Ben turned to him, briefly, his expression unfathomable, and then said, ‘I can’t be here anymore...’

‘No!’ Ben’s father was the one to chime in this time, rising from his spot on the couch. ‘I’m not having this,’ he announced. ‘Tricia, say you’re sorry will you before this gets anymore out of hand? You can’t let him leave hating you.’

It was the first time within the short period that Will had known him, that he had witnessed the authoritative side to Mr. Barnes. Last time they’d met he’d been too drunk to even know what was going on, let alone tell anyone what to do or say. Not that his outburst worked or anything, his wife stayed silent and merely glared at him, clearly embarrassed for being shown up in front of everyone.

‘Right, that settles it then,’ said Ben hotly.

Before Will even realised what was happening, he was being pulled back to standing by the sleeve of his shirt, the entire conversation over before it had barely even begun.

‘What are you doing?’ he murmured.

‘Leaving, what does it look like I’m doing?’ came the response, quick and snappy. ‘If she won’t speak to me, it’s a waste of time us even being here. We have a flat to finish packing up, a life to be getting on with, and if she’s quite happy to let us carry on with that without her, so am I.’

Will closed his eyes a moment and rubbed a hand over his forehead. At least he’d tried he supposed, even if it had been a complete failure.

‘Only if you’re sure,’ he murmured, wanting to check.

‘Never been surer.’

And so they left, both Jack and Mr. Barnes looking disappointed.

Ben didn’t lead him back to the flat as Will had expected, instead made a beeline for the underground and the Victoria line. He sat off to the corner of a carriage, leaning his head against the wall as he murmured, ‘The sooner we’re away from here the better.’ He sighed; eyes falling closed and held out a hand for Will. ‘I know you and Jack meant well, but that is one thing that is never going to work out.’

‘Where are we going?’ Ben was talking, but Will wasn’t listening, more concerned with where he was being taken.

The answer he received was soft spoken, a mere whisper, ‘For a walk...’

It was getting dark by the time they reached the river, the city lights reflecting against the murky water, the hazy summer sun leaving the Embankment warm and pungent. Ben led the way in silence, threading his fingers through Will’s and casually swinging their hands.

‘Thank you for trying,’ Ben murmured eventually, coming to a stop and leaning against the wall.

Will joined him, looking down at the slow moving water below. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry that it didn’t go better...’

Ben laughed. ‘That was the best it was ever going to go,’ he explained. ‘I told you she was stubborn; stubborn as an old mule sometimes.’ With a shrug, he leant in closer and Will found himself straining to see the other man in the darkness. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I love them all, dearly, but families are a pain.’

‘Not always...’

‘Maybe not yours,’ countered Ben softly. ‘But you’re lucky, Will; you haven’t spent your entire life living under a microscope. Some days I used to feel as though she was waiting for me to have some sort of breakdown, or for me to go off the rails. She wanted something to happen to me that she could fix, so she could become my saviour.’

Looking down at his hands very briefly, Will kept quiet at first, not entirely sure what to say in response. He didn’t like being caught in the middle of this situation with Ben’s mother, or the fact that he was – dare he say it – responsible for it somehow, but what could he honestly do, other than stand beside his partner in whatever he decided?

‘I don’t know, maybe all of this is just payback for Rebecca,’ Ben whispered then, kicking at the wall in front of him. ‘She’s punishing me for losing her perfect daughter-in-law.’

‘Well, I’m sorry, but she can’t have been that perfect if she walked out on you...’

Ben glanced to him, suddenly, and Will smiled, reaching a hand out to lay it gently to his cheek.

‘It’s true,’ he added quietly, ‘she should have realised how lucky she was to have you and, seeing as she didn’t, I can safely say that she’s an idiot. I, on the other hand, am not. I have no intention of ever letting you go again.’

‘Really?’ Ben was laughing now, his eyes dancing in the streetlights. ‘Never?’

With a grin, Will shot back, ‘Never ever.’

And it’s Never What You Expect

‘You’re up early...’

Ben glanced back over his shoulder, smiling at Will as he stepped out onto the patio. He was clearly still half asleep; his eyes barely open as he padded his way over and joined Ben at the wall. It was early though, Will wasn’t wrong, the sun was barely even visible on the horizon and the moon, pale white against the cloudy sky.

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Ben whispered, his gaze returning the view in front of him.

The house they were currently renting looked out on several acres of farmland, green as far as the eye could see, dotted with white where sheep were grazing. In the field beside the house several horses were kept, all three of them slowly making their way over to investigate the two young men.

‘Again?’ Will touched Ben’s arm lightly, a tender gesture. ‘Maybe you should think about seeing the doctor, it’s been over a month now. I can’t remember the last time I woke up and found you in bed still.’

Sighing softly, Ben shrugged his shoulders as nonchalantly as he could manage. He didn’t want to see the doctor, sleeping tablets wouldn’t help him. He knew exactly why he wasn’t sleeping and the only solution was to put what was bothering him to rest, not try and stifle the situation with drugs and trying to forget it even existed. Will meant well of course, Ben suspected he was trying to do what he’d asked before they left London, but it was time to grow up.

Turning to face Will, Ben let his smile brighten and moved in closer. He laid his hands gently to his lover’s face and placed a soft kiss to his lips before murmuring, ‘I have to make a phone call.’

He headed back into the house, leaving Will stood outside, somewhat bewildered. Picking up his mobile phone as he passed through the living room, he settled down at the dining room table, and then moved carefully through the phonebook. He paused when he reached his mother’s work number, hesitating for a moment, but then pressed call and drew in a deep breath.

She answered on the third ring, professionally; her voice pure middleclass ridiculousness and Ben had to resist the urge to laugh.

‘It’s me,’ he said.

A pause followed.

‘I’m sorry, who?’

Dropping his head forward into his hand, he bit down hard on his lip and murmured, ‘Your son.’

‘Oh, Ben, I’m sorry.’ She wasn’t. ‘I’m working, what did you want?’

Ben felt like giving up then, just hanging up and getting on with his life, sleepless nights and all. But he didn’t. ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said. ‘You won’t answer the phone when you know it’s me, this was the only way I could get hold of you without dad forcing you to speak to me.’

On the other end of the line, he heard her sigh, quite heavily, too. ‘It’s not like that at all,’ she said softly.

‘No? Sure seems that way to me... and to Will,’ he argued. ‘You do realise he feels responsible for our fallout, don’t you?’

‘He shouldn’t. It was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ His mother fell silent very briefly and he could just make out the sound of her starting to click her pen – she’d done that when she was nervous for as long as he could remember. ‘I was worried about you, that’s all,’ she explained. ‘You went from one serious relationship, to complete breakdown, to another serious relationship, all in the space of three months. You can’t have expected us to simply accept that for what it was. I was trying to put you off, trying to get you to do the sensible thing for once in your life.’

Letting his eyes fall closed, Ben shook his head and stayed silent.

‘I admit now I was wrong in what I did and clearly you made the right decision,’ she added when he didn’t reply. ‘Explain to Will, won’t you?’

‘I’ll tell him...’ Ben murmured on a breath, not quite believing what he was hearing.

His mother was quiet a while and before long, Ben realised an awkward silence was about to fall, so cleared his throat, which unexpectedly prompted her to start talking again. ‘Perhaps we could come over and visit you in Wales,’ she suggested. ‘When you’re not too busy working that is. We wouldn’t want to impose.’

The thought of his mother not wanting to impose was laughable at that, but knowing that she actually meant it, only made things more ridiculous. ‘We were planning on having a barbeque next Saturday for my birthday,’ he said, knowing he wouldn’t be able to talk her out of the idea now she’d thought of it. ‘Will’s family are coming across, too, so you’re more than welcome. I’ll ask Jack and Kayla as well.’

‘We’ll be there,’ she said without hesitation. ‘You just let us know what time and if you want us to bring anything with us, not that I can guarantee my cheese and onion rolls or Caesar salad will survive the journey.’

Ben chuckled, the first laugh he’d had with his mother for months. ‘Probably not,’ he agreed lightly. ‘But I think we can manage a few burgers and a couple of pieces of steak.’

‘Oh no, Ben, if you’re having people over there you need to do it properly!’ she said, startling him somewhat. ‘We’ll be there after lunch; I’ll bring your father’s barbeque tools, the ones he got from your Uncle, you know the--’

‘I know,’ he cut her off before she got too far. ‘I’ll text you the address later in the week, yeah?’

When he finally ended the call a couple of minutes later, he looked up to find Will hovering in the doorway with two mugs. He said nothing, only smiled and got to his feet, taking one of the mugs from his partner.

‘Everything OK?’ Will asked softly, returning the smile.

‘You know,’ Ben paused, leaning in to press a tender kiss to Will’s lips, ‘I think everything’s going to be just fine.’

Fin.

Writer's Block: A cinematic extravaganza

cloudysky — Sun, 03 Apr 2011 20:30:50 GMT

I've given this quite a bit of thought, gone through several ridiculous options, but decided to settle for one of the more sensible ones (let's face it, as gorgeous as she is, I'm definitely no Karen Gillan).

To play me: Drew Barrymore

To play my love interest: James McAvoy

Yeah, I know, you all expected it to be Ben Barnes or Matt Smith, but who wants to be that predictable lol.

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (9/10).

cloudysky — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 21:34:05 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (9/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,843.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

9.

‘I’m off to work.’

Ben’s eyes fluttered open as Will stepped away from the bed and picked up his keys, the jangle of key rings knocking together stirring him. It was one thing to be woken by the sound of the alarm clock going off, but to be woken by a kiss and then have the kisser leave immediately afterwards was just plain unfair.

Forcing himself to sit up and rubbing his eyes very briefly, he cleared his throat and said, ‘I thought today was your day off. Weren’t we planning on doing something ridiculously corny like skipping through a field of daisies or--?’

The sound of Will’s laughter cut him off midsentence and he bounded back over to the bed, enveloping Ben in a hug and whispering, ‘I love you, but money comes first right now and I couldn’t say no.’

Depressing, very depressing...

‘Fine,’ Ben murmured, accepting it, be it moodily. ‘When will you be home?’

‘Three-ish?’ Taking a step back, Will slipped on his jacket and grabbed a scarf. ‘Could be four. We have a couple of bookings for parties, so I’m not sure. But I’ll give you a ring when I’m on my way out.’

Nodding, Ben forced himself from bed just long enough to kiss Will goodbye, and then upon swinging the door closed again, crawled back beneath the covers to catch another forty winks or so. Forty winks though, somehow turned into several hours, and when he finally rolled over to check the time, it was nearing two thirty.

He started, jolted from his sleepy state by the realisation that he’d almost slept through another day. Once again he had left Will to solely play the role of breadwinner and go out to make the money. He was beginning to mess things up now, he knew it, Will knew it and he also knew that he couldn’t keep it up much longer without something snapping. The something would most likely be Will, too, even though he acted like he was OK with things the way they were.

If they were both serious about this living together thing, about making their relationship work, it was time Ben started making some sacrifices too and, unfortunately, that meant sleeping less and working more. Well, when he said working more, he obviously meant attending auditions and interviews and at least attempting to work anyway.

Ben had given up on the idea of working in a bar or anything similar. There was no way on earth he’d have been able to get away with it without being recognised every five minutes and no one wanted some z-lister working in their pub putting off the punters in favour of a bunch of women in their thirties coming in to gawp. Because that still happened sometimes (despite everything); women followed him around, down the street and onto the tube until they finally plucked up the courage to ask if he was really who they thought he was and snap a quick picture.

To compensate, he’d realised that a job behind the camera would be better than nothing, so he had a whole host of interviews set up spanning over the next few weeks. They were all for different things, an array of talents he wanted to try his hand at. If he couldn’t be in the movies anymore, at least he could still attempt to be involved, which was what he wanted more than anything else.

His first interview was tomorrow, yet another date with the BBC. He didn’t exactly have high hopes for how it would turn out. Following disappointment after disappointment, he’d finally learnt not to bank on anything.

He also had an audition in the evening, something he was a little more at ease about and something he’d hopefully be able to nail. The BBC were working on several new sitcoms for BBC3, so he figured it was as good a place as any to make a start with finding a niche for himself. It was back to the beginning all over again, think small, dream big, and eventually something would turn up... he hoped.

When Ben finally crawled out of bed, fed and showered, he eyed the jogging bottoms and jacket lurking in the bottom drawer for a moment. It wouldn’t hurt. He pulled them from the drawer with enthusiasm, slipped them on, grabbed a pair of trainers and his iPod, and then headed out of the flat.

Perhaps it really was time to make an effort again and in every way possible.

Forty minutes later he reached Hyde Park.

He spent several moments attempting (but failing) to warm up at the edge of the path, and then set off in the direction of the boating lake, keeping at a steady pace. He hadn’t been jogging for years so this was definitely going to test him. He needed it though; there was no denying that he needed it.

He managed a mile before he stumbled over his own feet and went careening into a young lady with a Yorkshire terrier.

All in all, she didn’t seem to mind when he fell into her. The dog, however, had other ideas and went straight for him, yapping and snapping. The young lady pulled the terrier back again apologetically, and then offered her hand to Ben. ‘Jennifer,’ she said, ‘and this is Brady. Sorry, he’s a little overprotective, doesn’t know when to call it quits.’ She shot Brady a look. ‘Silly boy, aren’t you?’

‘Right,’ Ben responded, trying his hardest to sound like he was interested in what she was saying. From the look on her face though, he suspected that he’d failed miserably at this.

‘And you are?’ Jennifer was still stood there with her arm awkwardly hanging in midair, clearly waiting for Ben to take it so that they could shake hands.

He obliged and told her his name, not wanting to be rude, and then crouched down briefly to pat Brady on the head. Thankfully Brady appeared to have calmed down a little now and welcomed the attention, rolling over onto his back in search of a belly rub. Deciding he would be better off not upsetting the dog, Ben gave him a good fuss before getting back to his feet once more.

‘Friend for life there,’ said Jennifer with a chuckle.

Offering a smile, Ben simply said, ‘Great.’

She perked an eyebrow then, laughing as she drew Brady in closer to her. ‘Wow, OK, tough nut to crack,’ she murmured. ‘So you’re either married or gay? And I really am hoping it’s the former.’

Ben stared for a moment, and then blinked. Had she actually been trying to flirt with him? He hadn’t even realised, simply thought she was a tad on the overfriendly side and wanted an excuse to talk to someone for a while.

‘Neither,’ he told her in the end, shrugging his shoulders. ‘But I’m not interested, so don’t waste your time.’ He gave Brady another pat on the head and added, ‘Nice dog by the way.’

It was strange, it was the first time he’d had to say no to someone in quite some time and he honestly didn’t mind doing it. He was happy in his relationship with Will and the thought of being with anyone else hadn’t even crossed his mind (until now at least). He liked that it was that way though and perhaps it was a sign he was finally growing up, finally settling down in an adult relationship. He hadn’t had one of those before, not a proper one at least, where both parties were completely happy with everything.

Moving in together had always been a scary prospect but, weirdly, things were working out just fine. Despite the size of the flat, neither of them had once felt as though they were living out of each others pockets and on days when they were both home, they were too consumed with each other to even care.

Finally, finally, Ben Barnes had begun to grow old gracefully.

*

By the time Will got home from work and had let himself into the flat, he found several messages on the answer machine waiting for him.

The first, from Ricky, a quick call to let them both know how his grandfather was doing. He was great apparently, really, really great and due to be discharged from hospital by the end of the week. Ricky was unsure as to whether either of them would return to the flat next-door to live though and his parents were furiously looking into nursing homes. It would be a shame if they did end up leaving the building, but life went on and people rarely stayed in the same place until their dying day. They’d have to learn to accept it.

Both the second and third messages were for Ben; one from his brother and one from a representative at the BBC. The latter proved more interesting. They had a proposition for him of some kind, a proposition that would eventually lead to a job. But there were conditions that they needed to discuss in person, so they’d left a number and Will knew no more than that.

Jack’s message was in regard to their mother and how he thought she deserved another chance. Will already knew that Ben wouldn’t give it. He never said it out loud, but he was hurting inside, hurting a lot. He felt betrayed by the people he thought he could trust and getting that trust back would prove more difficult than his family realised. You didn’t treat your eldest son like a fool and just get away with it.

Slipping his jacket off and tossing it onto the bed, Will sighed softly and rubbed his hands over his face. It had been a long day and he hadn’t expected to come home to an empty flat. But maybe he was allowing himself to get too used to Ben being there all the while.

He sank down onto the end of the bed, his gaze moving slowly around the room. It still looked as bad as it had done on the day he’d moved in. The wall to his right, the one with the big window, had been painted magnolia and there were curtains up – he’d made a start and got no further, abandoning his home improvements in favour of nights in front of the TV, takeaway dinners and lazy kisses.

It couldn’t carry on though; they were living in a pigsty.

But where was he even supposed to start?

*

‘How’s this?’

The question was asked, but it was unclear what it was actually about.

Ben raised an eyebrow and looked up from the papers he was currently perusing. ‘How’s what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking at,’ he admitted with a soft chuckle.

Will’s hands went immediately to his hips and he shook his head. ‘Well, if it’s not obvious, forget it,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve only spent the entire day on it. But, you know, clearly you’re too absorbed in whatever it is you’re doing to notice anything I do.’

‘Anything that you--?’ Ben laughed as he spoke. ‘I notice everything that you do, you know that.’

‘So you say,’ came the response, although it was only playful.

Moving from the bed, Ben slung the stack of papers aside and walked over to where Will was standing, hoping to see whatever it was he was supposed to be looking at. He had to admit, it didn’t become apparent straight away but then, several moments later, it suddenly dawned on him.

‘You painted the bathroom,’ he said, resting his chin on Will’s shoulder and smiling.

‘I painted the bathroom,’ Will repeated, throwing his hands up in mock frustration. ‘Took you long enough, didn’t it?’

‘You have to admit, it isn’t exactly the most obvious thing in the world and the light is really bad in here...’ Ben said, countering the question with a laugh.

He could feel Will’s gaze on him before he even turned around, but when Will did, Ben realised that he was laughing, too. OK, he was fighting laughter, but laughing all the same and he didn’t care.

‘I’m an idiot,’ Ben murmured shortly afterwards. ‘You don’t need to say it.’

‘Well, if it saves me a job.’ Will chuckled, lifting an eyebrow in amusement before leaning in to kiss Ben softly. It was short, sweet, thankful, the type of kiss they shared several times a day now. ‘So, I was thinking I’d make a proper start on the rest of the flat now,’ he said, smiling. ‘Make it habitable.’

With a shrug and ignoring the question for now, Ben flipped the light off in the bathroom and took hold of Will’s hand, leading him back into the main room. ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,’ he said.

Taking a seat on the end of the bed, Will frowned thoughtfully. ‘You wanted to talk to me about painting the flat?’ he asked.

‘No. What?’ Ben laughed and sat down beside him. ‘Not about painting the flat, about our living arrangements I guess.’ He predicted Will’s reaction before it even happened and quickly continued before anything was presumed. ‘I finally got a job. That’s what I’ve been looking at all afternoon; contracts, conditions, stuff like that. The only problem is that it’s going to be at the BBC studios over in Cardiff, so it would involve moving. That’s why they wanted to meet with me.’

‘Did you take the job?’ Will asked, his voice tentative.

‘No, I haven’t said yes to them yet.’ Smiling, he looked over at Will and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. ‘I mean, either I move, or both of us, if you wanted to come that is. Think of it like a fresh start. You could easily find another job there and we could buy somewhere bigger, you know, like a house maybe. This is all just a suggestion, obviously.’

‘You haven’t said yes yet?’ Will repeated, tilting his head slightly, clearly confused by this confession. ‘Why on earth haven’t you said yes yet?’

‘Well...’ Gaze dropping to the floor, Ben cleared his throat and began to idly pick at his nails, anxious to finish. ‘Because of you,’ he said.

‘Because of me?’

‘Will you please stop repeating everything I say?’ Ben laughed. ‘Yes, because of you, because I love you and I don’t want to go anywhere without you and – well, I think you get the point, right?’

Smiling, Will held his hand out toward Ben, which he took without hesitation. ‘Yeah, I get it,’ he said.

‘So...’ continued Ben almost bashfully, ‘I wanted to talk to you first, work through our options and it’s up to you what happens next.’

‘Ah... OK.’

Will said nothing else; he simply gave Ben’s hand a squeeze, and then placed a soft kiss to the back of it. Eventually, he dropped Ben’s hand again and got back to his feet, wandering over to the kitchen to put the kettle on. He occupied himself with making tea for a while, pottering back and forth and even deciding to cut a couple of pieces of cake. Ben stared, watched as he went about his business and just left him sitting there.

‘Will,’ Ben couldn’t take it anymore and interrupted him in the middle of finding plates. ‘This is kind of important, you know.’

Turning back to face him, Will laughed and shook his head, placing the plates back down. ‘I know, I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Thought I’d let you sweat a little first, see what you did.’ He grinned. ‘You already knew the answer would to be yes; you didn’t even need to ask. I’d go anywhere you ask me, be it France, America... even wet and windy Wales.’ He chuckled softly. ‘Seriously, Ben, I thought you knew me by now.’

‘I thought I did... I mean, I do.’ Shaking his head, Ben ran a hand through his hair, the relief most probably written all over his face. ‘You just threw me for a loop then. I think I know you, I think I can figure out how you’re going to react, but this involved moving and--’

‘And I’ve been back in the country for six months after living in the States for years,’ said Will, cutting him off. ‘I honestly don’t mind where I live now, so long as you’re around somewhere, at least. I’ve kind of got used to waking up to the sound of your snoring.’

Ben looked appalled. ‘I do not snore!’ he argued.

‘Oh, you so do,’ Will responded, laughing.

‘Fine then, I snore.’ Ben smiled and got to his feet, picking up the plates from the counter to serve up the cake Will had cut. ‘Are we moving then?’ he asked softly, passing a plate over.

Even though he was clearly trying not to react, Will couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘I guess we are.’

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (8/10).

cloudysky — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 21:51:20 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (8/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,627.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

8.

‘Ben it’s June.’

‘What’s your point?’

Will blinked. ‘Only that and the fact you’re – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – Christmas shopping,’ he replied, laughing.

They were halfway down Oxford Street and heading directly toward the Disney Store, Ben with a list in his hand and a spring in his step. Neither of which Will understood of course because, as he’d already stressed, it was June – June!

‘It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,’ came the jovial response.

‘There are another six months left to go until Christmas!’

‘Great, couple of presents every month between now and then and we can spread the cost,’ Ben replied, ducking through the doors and beneath a Cinderella balloon that a little girl was holding onto. ‘I don’t know about you, but I think that sounds like a fantastic idea. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?’ He paused, turned to face Will suddenly. ‘How do you feel about kids?’

Will stared at him, blindly reaching out and picking up a soft toy Eeyore holding a beach ball, placing it into their basket. ‘How do I feel about them?’ he repeated. ‘In what sense exactly?’

‘As in,’ Ben started, leading a trail through the shop, ‘do you want kids someday?’

‘Do I want them?’ He really needed to stop repeating everything that Ben said. ‘Of course I do, I would have thought you’d figured that out by now.’

Apparently that was all Ben wanted to know and he dropped the subject immediately after Will said whatever he did/didn’t want to hear, turning his attention back to his shopping. He came close to buying half of the shop; everything from key rings to pyjama’s going into the basket.

‘You spoil Charlie,’ Will said when they finally reached the till and the young lady serving them began to tot everything up.

‘It’s not all for Charlie.’ With a chuckle, Ben pulled his credit card from his wallet. ‘Some of this is for Daisy’s kids, too, of course,’ he admitted. ‘We’re a couple now, do you really think I’d try and get away with not buying anything for your niece and nephew? You’re the closet thing I have to a family right now – aside from Jack anyway – and I’m not about to forget that.’

Sighing softly, Will reluctantly handed over the giant Minnie Mouse he had in his arms, and then reached out to stroke Ben’s cheek with the back of his hand. ‘All of this,’ he murmured, ‘we can’t afford it. We have no way of paying for it.’

Ben shook his head, ignoring this as he took his card back and began collecting their bags together. ‘I have an audition tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’

‘There’s no guarantee that you’ll get the part, Ben. You know that, don’t you?’

It seemed such a silly question to be asking, but just lately, Ben seemed to be getting slightly delusional about things – especially work related things. He’d been for quite a few auditions, he’d been confident, dressed to kill, but each and every time he received a flat-out no from the casting agents. Something (and Will had no idea as to what yet) was off and ruining his chances.

‘I’m not an idiot,’ Ben answered hotly, handing one of the bags over to Will.

‘Well, that’s a relief,’ was his gentle reply. ‘For a minute there I was beginning to worry.’

Will predicted the glare before it even happened and a second later, received a playful prod in the ribs and a nudge that sent him staggering across the pavement a little. They were both laughing though, no harm, no foul and truth be told, Will never said no to an excuse to play fight, even if they were in the centre of London’s shopping district at the time.

‘How much more have you got to do?’ he asked when Ben began to slow his pace, loitering outside Topshop and peering in the window. ‘Can we actually go home now?’

‘Not yet...’ Ben answered distantly. Not two seconds later, Will found himself being pulling in the direction of the nearest jewellers as the older man declared, ‘I want to buy you something first.’

Will began to protest before they’d even stepped foot over the threshold, pulling on Ben’s arm and trying everything within his power to stop him from going inside. ‘Ben, no, you know you can’t afford it,’ he muttered when one eager sales assistant clapped eyes on them. ‘They’re going to try and milk you for all you’re worth and that isn’t much at the moment. So let’s come back another time, yeah? Maybe when you’ve got this part and not when you’re merely dreaming about getting it?’ He sighed. ‘I can’t bail you out of several thousand.’

His final remark caught Ben’s attention and he span around in the doorway, an eyebrow cocked in annoyance. ‘You don’t think I can get the part?’ he questioned.

Trust that to be the only thing he picked up on.

‘That’s not what I said,’ Will uttered softly, feeling himself giving up. ‘I just... I don’t want you buying me anything, especially from here, not until we’ve found somewhere better to live at least. There are more important things.’

Ben instantly deflated and Will watched as the light literally left his eyes.

‘I know,’ said Will, keeping his tone even. ‘I’m a boring sod, right?’

‘Only slightly,’ murmured Ben. ‘You want to go home?’

‘I want to go home.’

There wasn’t much persuasion involved and forty minutes later, Will was unlocking the door to their flat and dumping their (frankly ridiculous amount of) shopping on the floor. Ben followed, almost shoving him inside, and then slammed the door closed quite abruptly behind him.

Will stared, stood awkwardly at the end of the bed now. ‘What...?’ he questioned.

‘You just – you made me realise something while we were out,’ Ben said softly, anxiously brushing a piece of hair from his eyes and taking a step forward. ‘You’re right, you’re always bloody right.’ He laughed, holding Will’s face in his hands. ‘And I don’t mean that in a conceited way, because I love that about you, I love all of those silly little things. Like – like the way you refuse to do absolutely anything in the morning until you’ve brushed your teeth, which Skandar used to hate, and the way you order the jars in the cupboard alphabetically. It’s so anal and so ridiculous, but it’s so you, Will. It’s all just you.’

It took Will a second or two to realise that Ben had stopped talking, but he still stayed stood exactly where he was, not entirely sure what to do with himself now. Was this it? Was this the moment where things changed between them – really changed?

He opened his mouth to say something, but found himself lost for words, so closed it again.

Meanwhile, Ben was panicking in the wake of Will’s silence and looked mere moments from taking absolutely everything back as he moved away again.

Will took a step forward, and then another, staying quiet as he approached. Maybe there was no need to say anything now, perhaps everything that needed to be said, had been said.

When he finally came to a stop in front of Ben, after managing to conquer his nerves, they were stood only inches from each other and thoughts of what to do next came second nature. He reached up, hesitantly, fingertips brushing against the older man’s skin and gently following the line of his jaw. Will had done this many a time before today, but somehow, today felt different and he was sure his trepidation showed through in his actions.

When his hand came to rest at the back of Ben’s neck, fingers curling into his hair, Will leant up the tiniest bit to place a kiss to his lips.

There was no questioning it now; this was the moment things were set to change.

The kiss was slow, languid, Will made sure to take his time and not to rush a second of it. Ben was the one to deepen the moment, to part his lips and let his tongue dart out inquisitively and that was when Will knew that without any doubt his friend – his lover – wanted this, too.

As the kiss continued, enthusiasm now felt very much from both parties, he began to slowly start work on unbuttoning Ben’s shirt. Starting at the top and working his way down, holding out for any protest he may receive, he let a smile pull at his mouth when he was left quite happily to his own devices, carefully sliding plastic through fabric in a leisurely fashion.

By the time he had the shirt unfastened, Ben had pulled away from the kiss and was happy to help, reaching around to undo his cuffs and letting the garment fall down onto the floor.

When Will glanced back up he was greeted by the most dazzling of smiles and didn’t hesitate when Ben leant down to kiss him again, threading his hands up into the older man’s hair and pulling his head down to his.

‘You’re sure you want to do this?’ He had started on Ben’s belt by the time he asked the question, looking up at him through his hair.

Ben nodded and before Will got any further, he found himself being pushed back onto the bed with the older man crawling over him. ‘It’s been a while since I did – well, this – but I’m game if you are,’ he said softly. ‘Not that I can guarantee a skilful execution or anything.’

With a laugh, Will pushed him away slightly and perked an eyebrow. ‘And by this you mean?’

‘Sex.’

Well, that was straight to the point.

‘With a man...’

Not entirely to the point then, more teetering on the edge before admitting the true story, but Will could do nothing but laugh even more as he pulled Ben down on top of him.

Smiling, he nuzzled his head into the crook of Ben’s neck and whispered, ‘It’s like riding a bike.’

Ben chuckled, whatever apprehension he had now gone as he began work on undressing Will, too. ‘I’ll take your word for it then,’ he said, hands moving deftly as he stripped each layer of clothing away. ‘This bit’s easy though.’

With a shake of his head, Will reached up for the older man’s hands and moved them away, choosing instead to wriggle his way out of his own jeans before they ended up tangled around his ankles. As much as he enjoyed being undressed by someone else and as skilful as Ben seemed to be at it, there were a few things that needed to be done by one’s self so you didn’t end up in a complete mess.

It took several minutes, but eventually they were both very naked, Ben tossing away the last offending garment (a sock) with a flourish.

Will had never once denied that Ben was handsome, it was something everyone could plainly see. But today was the first time he’d had the chance to truly appreciate it. Lying back with the older man leaning over him, a soft smile etched into his features, Will understood what it was that had those teenage girls fawning all over him during their Narnia years. He was beautiful, not just handsome or gorgeous or sexy (Georgie’s favourite synonym), he actually was beautiful.

He smiled, reached a hand out, his fingertips tracing a line from Ben’s hair, down the bridge of his nose, over his lips and to his chin. ‘Do you have any idea how perfect you are?’ he asked on a breath.

Ben perked an eyebrow, his movements slightly constricted beneath Will’s touch, and then he laughed. ‘Have you been drinking?’ he teased. ‘Or do you always turn into this much of a cheese ball when there’s sex involved? Just in case you didn’t already know, you don’t need to woo me, I’m already... wooed.’

There was an awkward pause, and then they both began to laugh, Ben collapsing onto the bed beside him as he attempted to pull himself together again.

Will was happy he’d moved and as such, rolled onto his side and edged in closer until their foreheads were pressed together. Threading his fingers through Ben’s dark hair, he let his eyes flutter closed and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as the older man began to lay kisses to his neck, obviously searching out his pulse point. When he found it, Will was sure to let him know, an involuntary moan slipping from his lips. He bit down on his lip, hard, forcing himself to contain anything else that may have come out along with it.

They kept up the foreplay for another ten minutes or so, timid touches and tender kisses leading the way toward more deliberate caresses below the waist and a rather sudden hip grind on Ben’s part when Will clearly discovered his weak spot.

Deciding this could move things forward considerably; Will gave up on being timid and took a firm hold on the situation, literally.

As much as he enjoyed taking things slow, they’d been playing things the same way for months and this was something he wanted now, not in an hour when they’d dillydallied about some more.

It didn’t take too much persuasion to get the other man hard and within minutes they were on the brink of crossing the finishing line. But Will didn’t want that, he wanted Ben to make love to him, so he slowed the erratic pace he’d created with his fist and pressed his lips to the other man’s, murmuring, ‘Let’s see how out of practise you really are, shall we?’

Ben was keen and quite happily took charge of their tryst once Will had done a bit of ferreting about in the top drawer of the bedside cabinet.

It turned out he had absolutely nothing to worry about and things went from good to great without too much coaching on Will’s behalf. He may have acted all coy about it, but Ben knew exactly what he was doing right now.

Head hitting the pillows with a soft thud, Will ran his hands up and over Ben’s shoulders, smiling at the feel of the muscles flexing beneath his touch. They weren’t even done yet and he was already considerably out of it, the feel of the older man sliding into him over and over again, making him dizzy. He hadn’t had sex like this in a bloody long time, an awful bloody long time... and it was fantastic.

He slid his hands back down, following the lines of Ben’s back before finally reaching his backside and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

Ben laughed, Will felt the soft exhale of breath against his neck, and then a moment later the older man murmured, ‘Are you trying to distract me?’

‘If that’s enough to distract you, I think we’re in trouble...’ Will whispered back, turning his head just enough to place a tender kiss to Ben’s jaw. ‘Keep going, I’ll behave, I promise.’

And keep going he did, he kept going until they were both breathless and completely exhausted, and then some. Sticky and messy made an appearance too, but by then they were both too tired to care and Will laid his head on Ben’s chest, the beginnings of sleeps mesmerising spell weaving its magic.

He was almost certain that he’d already began to drift off when he heard, very quietly, a whisper of; ‘I love you...’ that ended the night on a most definite high.

Will said nothing in reply; he’d tell Ben exactly how he felt in the morning.

Writer's Block: Where's the receipt?

cloudysky — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 10:45:44 GMT

That would be the motorbike I bought back in 2004. Went to take my CBT test (the basic one that teaches you how to ride it, etc.) and after doing pretty well, hit a corner too fast after it had been raining, and then hit the brakes (which you're not supposed to do). I went flying one way, the motorbike the other, and I refused to get back on it ever again 'cause it scared me that much.

We sold the bike a year later for half of what it cost... and it still hadn't actually been paid for. Complete waste of time and money.

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (7/10).

cloudysky — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 21:12:38 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (7/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,044.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.
A/N: So this part doesn’t exactly pick up where the last one left off, but you’ll see...

When the Lights Begin to Fade

7.

For the last half an hour, Ben had been sat up in bed with his ear pressed to the wall, listening to the strange sounds coming from next door.

He had been awoken by a loud bang around three a.m., followed by lots of muffled shouts and then, again, more banging. He didn’t want to go jumping to any conclusions, but he was pretty sure that Mr. Gardener (the deranged neighbour Will refused to acknowledge even existed) was up to something suspicious.

Shifting closer to the wall, hands pressed against it as well now, Ben perked an eyebrow as he attempted to make head or tail of what he was hearing. It wasn’t exactly the easiest task he’d ever put himself up for, whatever was going on was extremely difficult to establish without actually going round there, an idea he wasn’t particularly taken with right now.

He could hear voices again, that of Mr. Gardener and... was that Ricky?

Ben had had the pleasure of meeting Ricky now. He was eighteen, over excitable and as gay as a picnic basket. When he thought about it, it was ironic that Will had moved in next door. And Will hadn’t been wrong about Ricky either. That boy wouldn’t have hurt a fly and, in fact, Ben was pretty sure he would nurse one back to health if given half a chance. In a nutshell, he was the sweetest boy to have ever walked the earth, which probably wasn’t the best thing – the word naive came to mind a little too quickly when he was being thought of.

Sighing softly, Ben gave up listening shortly after their shouting began, he couldn’t hear a thing and he was beginning to get neck ache. Maybe he could go round though and see what was afoot, check everything was OK and that Ricky wasn’t in any kind of trouble. He didn’t want to, but surely that was the neighbourly thing to do?

So, with that in mind, he dragged himself from the bed he shared with Will, pulled on some clothes and crept toward the front door. The hall outside was dark, the only light coming from a high window above the staircase down by number twenty-two. He hated this building, especially at night; it was as though someone had pulled it straight from of a horror film and they were all waiting with bated breath for the moment the serial killer struck.

Approaching Mr. Gardener’s door with apprehension, feet light against the carpet, Ben tightened the grip he had on the spaghetti jar in his hand (it was the only thing he could find at such short notice). He reached out with his left hand and knocked three times, hitching in a sharp breath as the conversation going on inside came to an abrupt halt. This was it then, the answers to all his questions were about to be uncovered.

He prepared himself, taking a step back, now gripping the jar with both hands.

A moment later the door swung open and he, in turn, moved to take a swing at whoever was standing there. However, he found himself face-to-face with a rather teary Ricky and the jar fell down to the ground with an ear-splitting crash instead.

Ricky stared for a moment, and then sighed as he murmured, ‘Ben... I thought you were the paramedics.’

‘Paramedics?’ Ben questioned, swallowing anxiously. ‘Is everything OK?’

The young lad shook his head before opening the door wider and letting Ben inside, where he saw Mr. Gardener huddled up in an arm chair looking more than a little worse for wear. In fact, he looked on deaths door and suddenly, Ben couldn’t help but feel guilty for all he’d been thinking about the old man. He couldn’t help it if he was a little odd, could he?

‘Heart attack I think,’ Ricky was saying. He was now stood just behind Ben, arms wrapped around himself for warmth. ‘It’ll be his second...’

Ben glanced back at the younger man. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly.

‘Don’t worry, you don’t need to say it,’ said Ricky. ‘Not as though it’s your fault, is it? He’s not been well for an awful long time. I’ve been waiting for it for months to be honest. We’re lucky he’s been OK for as long as he has.’

Nodding, but staying silent, Ben brought his gaze back to Mr. Gardener. Now he’d seen them both together, it was obvious that they were related, grandfather and grandson most probably. He felt like a complete idiot for thinking anything but. Mr. Gardener was sick, yes, but he was gravely ill and not sick in the head as Ben had originally thought. Jumping to conclusions as usual and he felt ridiculous.

‘You’ll have to let me know if there’s anything Will or I can do,’ Ben found himself saying, glancing to Ricky with a concerned smile. ‘Anything at all.’

‘Will do, don’t you---’

Ricky was cut off by a knock at the door and a moment later they were showing the paramedics into the flat. Work commenced immediately and, after five minutes, Ben found himself stood alone in the living room, left to lock the place up as Ricky went off to the hospital with his grandfather.

It really was the least he could do. He felt so incredibly stupid now for all that he’d been thinking and really wished there was more he could have done.

By the time he was letting himself back into his and Will’s flat, he found the younger man leant sleepily against the stove, boiling a couple of eggs. He glanced up as Ben came back in and smiled softly. ‘Where have you been?’ he asked. ‘I was beginning to think I’d lost you.’

‘Next door.’ Ben placed the spaghetti jar back in its rightful place, earning him an odd look. ‘Ricky’s grandfather had a heart attack... they think anyway. They’ve had to take him to the hospital.’

‘Oh...’ Will stopped what he was doing immediately, his eyes going wide.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Ben added, hoping to reassure his partner. ‘He didn’t look well, but he didn’t look as though he was about to... well, you know, drop dead or anything. Ricky said he’d been expecting it for a while. I told him to stop by if he needed us for anything. That was the right thing to do, yeah?’

‘Definitely.’ Now that what he’d been told had sunk in, Will relaxed and went back to making his breakfast, popping some bread into the toaster whilst continuing to make idle conversation. ‘You look a bit shell-shocked, Ben.’

Ben blinked, not quite hearing what Will said to him to begin with, but when it registered he shook his head and casually rubbed a hand over his face. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘I could probably do with a bit more sleep, maybe, but that’s all. I was awake really early. Couldn’t sleep to be honest.’

‘So go back to bed,’ said Will softly, his full attention caught up in the kitchen now.

For a moment, Ben watched him, but then did as Will had suggested and settled back down to get a couple more hours sleep.

It did the trick. When he finally woke back up at around eleven a.m. he felt ready to face the day, his stupidity from earlier that morning well and truly forgotten. Will wasn’t there anymore though, he was long since gone, leaving nothing but a note pinned to the fridge with a magnet in the shape of a letter B in his wake. The younger man always used that particular one when leaving notes for Ben – it was more personal or something. Ben thought he was being a sentimental idiot... as usual.

Will was at work, wouldn’t be home until gone six, which left Ben with only one thing to do and that was to find himself a job, too.

It couldn’t be that hard, surely.

Could it?

-

‘It’s a no I’m afraid.’

Will knew those words were haunting Ben more than he cared to admit. Will himself had only been there the once when those immortal words had been uttered, but the older man’s face had fallen and, for a moment, it had felt like there would be no coming back from it.

‘You can’t let it get to you,’ Will said, placing his coffee down on the table in front of him, and then pulling out the chair to his left so Daisy could sit down.

She was having one of her rare days off from the kids and had decided to join them for the morning. Currently it was coffee and cakes in Starbucks time, an attempt to cheer everyone up following a rather fruitless three hours of job hunting and a failed audition for three lines in a well known soap opera. Since when had they been forced to stoop so low? It was one thing taking a job in Doctors where you were forced to wear some rather ridiculous headgear (Will would never let him live it down) while you were working your way up, but to audition for EastEnders and get a flat out no when you’d once been a hero to thousands of children, well that was a kick in the teeth.

‘I’m not.’ Ben sniffed indignantly, although his face was like thunder. ‘It was nothing, I can do better.’

Sighing softly, Daisy began to pull apart her muffin. ‘EastEnders isn’t what it once was,’ she commented, popping a piece in her mouth. ‘I mean, it’s missed out on Best Soap for five years running. Since when did Emmerdale become the be all and end all of soap land? Something’s up with that.’

Will perked an eyebrow and turned to face his sister. ‘What’s your point?’

‘Oh, right.’ His sister laughed, her cheeks flushing with pink. ‘I meant that you don’t want to listen to anything they say. They clearly have no idea what they’re doing anymore. Aim high, aim for--’

‘The dales?’

‘Exactly!’ Daisy slammed her fist down on the table, now smiling from ear to ear. ‘You can’t go wrong.’

Ben cleared his throat, cutting into the conversation and pointing his fork in Daisy’s direction. ‘Aside from the fact I don’t really want a part in a soap,’ he said. ‘It not exactly very, umm...’

Screwing her nose up, she shook her head and didn’t give him chance to finish his tentative sentence. ‘Now look who’s being fussy,’ she muttered. ‘You can’t afford to be fussy when no one’s hiring you.’

‘Guys!’ Will laughed, figuring he’d better end the conversation before anyone started arguing.

‘Anyway, I’d like to know what’s going on with Corrie – it hasn’t been the same since Jack Duckworth died...’

Shaking his head and hiding his face behind his hands, Will muttered feebly, ‘Can you stop please?’

Daisy laughed, gently nudging her arm into his. ‘Look, I’m a married mother of two; the wonderful world of soaps is my life now.’ She was grinning, clearly teasing them both. ‘I admit it isn’t much of a life, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that.’

‘We believe you...’ Ben was smiling now as well, already over his earlier annoyance.

‘Speak for yourself.’ With a playful wink, Will turned his attention back to his latte.

The remainder of the day was fairly peaceful. They took a leisurely stroll to Hyde Park and Daisy sat and watched with an ice-cream while the boys headed out on to the water in a rowing boat. It took fifteen minutes for them to decide who was going to row, but in the end Will won the argument, forcing Ben to take it easy for a while, even if he didn’t want to.

‘Will?’

‘Hmm...?’

Ben sighed and leant forward, a smile on his face. ‘I may not say it much, but I’m really glad I met you,’ he murmured. ‘You probably won’t believe it, seeing as how much we used to argue, but it is true.’

Nodding his head, Will returned the smile, whispering, ‘I know.’

Life may not have been too kind to either one of them of late, but moments like this made it all worth it in the end.

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (6/10).

cloudysky — Sun, 06 Mar 2011 22:58:27 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (6/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,325.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

6.

‘Come in, sit down, I need to speak to you.’

Ben’s mother hadn’t sounded quite so serious since he’d been seventeen and she’d realised he was failing his maths A Level. It was worrying really, she’d always been very relaxed about everything, she was a psychologist, and she had to take everything in her stride – as did his father. But this, whatever this was, didn’t sound particularly good. He’d already been anxious coming here following their last meeting, but this was making things considerably worse.

Once Ben had done as instructed and she’d shut the door, joining him on the couch, he cleared his throat and asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

She didn’t respond at first, took a moment to smooth out her skirt and fluff up a cushion instead. But when she did look at him, he took notice. Whatever she was about to say, she was not going to say lightly. ‘Ben,’ she began softly, ‘you know that we love you, but are you entirely sure about the relationship you’re currently pursuing?’

He perked an eyebrow, that wasn’t what he’d expected. ‘With Will?’ he questioned, just to clarify.

His mother nodded, but said no more.

‘Of course I’m sure,’ he said. You could clearly hear the disbelief in his voice and he hoped that it registered with her. ‘Why on earth wouldn’t I be?’

‘You have been known to be a little impulsive sometimes.’ She smiled, almost amused – but he couldn’t bring himself to return the smile, there was nothing amusing about what she was saying to him.

‘Impulsive?’ repeated Ben. ‘You think my relationship with Will is me being impulsive?’

‘Ben, it completely understandable after what Becky--'

‘No!’ This time he cut across her, not giving her the chance to finish. ‘You have no idea what you’re saying. We’re talking about someone I’ve known for ten years here; this isn’t just a whim and it has absolutely nothing to do with Becky. It’s not as though Will’s a random guy I met in a club or--’ He stopped abruptly and laughed, realisation suddenly dawning. ‘No, of course, that’s not the problem, is it? The problem is that I’m in a relationship with a man. You wouldn’t be sat here now trying to lecture me if I were with a woman.’

She shook her head, hiding her face away in her hands a moment and he knew immediately that he’d hit the nail on the head, even though she’d flat-out deny it. ‘Now you know perfectly well we have no problems with...’ she trailed off, not able to finish the sentence, which made him think differently. ‘We think you’re making a mistake jumping in the deep end so soon.’

‘I’m thirty-five years old; you lost any right you had to tell me what to do over fifteen years ago!’ Ben answered, his voice saddening as he went on. ‘This isn’t something you get a say on. I’ve moved out again, I’m not bringing him here and, if I still were, you should be happy for me – for us.’

‘It’s not that we’re not happy for you, Ben. We’re concerned, that’s all,’ she told him, apparently not listening to a word he was saying. ‘Things aren’t particularly good for you at the moment and this probably won’t help matters. It’s too soon; you’re only just getting back on your feet, and this is not the best way to go about starting over.’

‘You know what.’ He sighed, getting back to his feet and heading towards the door, done with the conversation. ‘I don’t think it will change a damn thing, especially not make it any worse. If you can’t get it into your prejudiced head that I’m happy with another man, then it’s your problem, not mine.’

She seemed offended that he’d even said that, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

‘So, if you’re done,’ Ben continued, heading for the door, ‘I’m going to go now and live my life how I want to and not how I’m told... if that’s all right with you, that is.’ His last few words dripped with sarcasm, but he couldn’t help it and he figured she deserved everything she got right now. ‘I’m so sorry that I’m not Jack,’ he added then, leaving her stood there completely dumbfounded.

It was mean, it was completely uncalled for, but he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

He’d always been sure his parents would stand by him through anything. It seemed now though that he’d found their one weakness. Despite knowing about his sexuality, they had never truly wanted him to settle down with a man. Have a bit of fun, play the field, sure. But as for settling down and playing house, they could only approve of him doing that with a woman. If there was one thing he’d never thought his parents were, it was narrow-minded, and now he had to accept that they were, plain and simple.

Well, his mother at the very least, but approaching his father would take time and careful execution. His mother had always been the one to wear the trousers in their particular relationship.

Ben went straight back to the flat after seeing his mother. He let himself in, made a cup of tea, and curled up in the middle of the bed with a book. Lying back, head buried amongst the pillows, he inhaled deeply, the faint scent of Will’s aftershave lingering on the fabric and making him smile. The younger man wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours, but he needed that comfortable familiarity above all else right now.

That was something he loved about being with Will, he could finally be himself. He could relax completely, bring down all those walls he’d built up over the years and just... be. They complimented each other. Something it had taken them a decade to realise. But it was worth it, it was all so, so worth it.

By the time Will let himself in, Ben was flat out on his back and fast asleep. Arguing with his mother earlier had knocked him for six and he’d been out like a light within twenty minutes of getting through the door, his book balanced haphazardly on his chest as he dozed. He hadn’t planned to sleep, but between the combination of next door’s TV and the book he was reading (which turned out wasn’t as gripping as he’d hoped), he’d been lulled into the land of nod with almost no choice in the matter.

He found himself awoken by the feel of Will’s fingers running through his hair, voice soft in his ear. ‘You’re so beautiful when you sleep,’ he was saying, ‘so beautiful...’

It was strange to hear those words, especially from someone who had been nothing more than a friend for so many years. Ben cherished them though and feigned sleep for a little while longer, enjoying the attention and affection coming from the younger man. He felt bad for doing so, but how could anyone resist a free compliment or two?

When he eventually opened his eyes, Will was lying alongside him, still watching. He smiled brightly upon realising Ben was awake. ‘Hi,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’

Ben shook his head, figuring for now he’d keep the moment alive.

‘Good,’ answered Will. ‘I wanted to talk to you about something, but I thought I’d leave you to sleep a while. You obviously needed it; even me slamming the door on my way in didn’t wake you up.’

Closing his eyes, briefly, Ben hitched in a sharp breath at Will’s opening statement. He wanted to talk. Ben had heard those words one time too many already today. Will was definitely the last person he wanted to be uttering them to him again. ‘About what?’ he asked, tone warily.

Apparently Will noticed his trepidation and laughed, reaching out to gently touch his arm as he said, ‘Nothing bad, honestly.’

‘OK...’ Letting the breath he’d been holding go again, Ben allowed himself to relax and to join in with the laughter. ‘What is it then?’

‘Would you find it really weird if I got a job in a bar?’

Now that, was the very last question he’d expected to be asked.

‘A job in a bar?’ Ben repeated, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. ‘Why would you--?’

‘Let me finish.’ Will chuckled, getting up from the bed and turning his attention to the task of making them both tea instead. ‘I’ll lay my cards on the table here and be blunt. I don’t have a job, you don’t have a job, neither of us has any real money and in case you haven’t realised it already, this place – no matter how grotty it is – isn’t going to pay for itself. So, I thought, for the time-being taking a job in a bar wouldn’t exactly be the worst thing I could do.’

It took a moment or two for what Will was saying to sink in and Ben soon found himself laughing. ‘I really can’t imagine you working behind a bar pulling pints,’ he admitted.

Will shot him a pointed look. ‘Well, if you’d care to do it instead, go ahead,’ he said. ‘Someone needs to earn some money round here and I--'

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Ben cut him off before he got carried away, and then offered a soft smile. ‘I wasn’t being down on the idea. I completely agree, we need to be doing something or we’re going to end up in an even worse situation than we are now and I’m sure that’s the last thing either of us wants.’

‘Well, exactly...’

Ben chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip for a moment, and then said, ‘I should try and find something, too.’ He shrugged, the thought of getting an ordinary job terrified him a little, but if that was what they needed to do. ‘Any ideas as to what?’

With a soft chuckle, Will came back over and handed him a mug of tea. ‘You want an honest answer to that?’ he asked.

‘Of course I do.’ Ben nodded, blowing into his mug to cool the liquid a little.

‘OK, well, I have absolutely no idea then.’

He’d asked for an honest answer.

‘Brilliant,’ said Ben with a light laugh. ‘We’re totally screwed if I have anything to do with it then.’

Will reached out, patting his arm sympathetically, although he was still laughing. ‘Maybe you could do something for your parents at their office, some admin work or... Well, I don’t know what else they’d need doing, but it’s an idea, right?’

Wishing he could enthuse about this idea, Ben merely nodded, but let a breath go slowly. There would be no point in keeping what had happened from Will, he’d already been keeping enough secrets.

‘It would be an absolutely great idea if my parents were still speaking to me. But, unfortunately, they’re not. My mother made it quite clear earlier on today that she wanted nothing more to do with me for as long as we’re together because (and I am paraphrasing here, but I’m pretty sure it’s what she meant) she thinks that I’ve lost my mind.’ He sighed. ‘Apparently having her oldest son settling down with a man wasn’t part of her plan.’

For a moment there was silence, but as Ben closed his eyes he felt Will’s arm slide around his shoulders and he was pulled close. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘You don’t deserve that.’

‘Nothing I can do about it though, is there?’ said Ben quietly. ‘And there is no way I’m giving you up.’

Will laughed; Ben felt the soft exhale of breath against his neck. ‘You’re sweet,’ he whispered. ‘But this is your family we’re talking about here and you can’t just accept that as read. Not that I’m saying you give me up, because obviously that’s the last thing I’d want, too, but you can’t let her get away with that.’

Pulling away from the embrace, eyes fluttering open, Ben sat back enough so he could look Will in the eye. ‘What do you suggest I do then?’ he asked.

‘Fight,’ said Will simply. ‘You need to fight.’

‘Easier said than done, my mother is a stubborn woman at the best of times, but when she’s really stuck on something... Well, it’s not going to change, no matter how hard I fight it.’ Ben shook his head in disbelief. ‘I still can’t believe this is happening, it’s the last thing I ever imagined she wanted to talk to me about today. She’s always been so proud of all my achievements and this is a complete turn around – a complete turn around.’

‘Don’t worry, you’ve got me by your side, we’ll talk her round.’

Ben sighed; realising now was probably the right moment to tell Will about Becky, she’d been featured in his argument with his mother after all. ‘She still sore I’m not with my ex girlfriend, too. They were very close,’ he said. ‘But she refuses to accept that it was Becky’s fault. She’s the one who left me, not the other way round. She dumped me the night I was going to propose. It doesn’t matter though how many times I tell Mum this, she’s still convinced I didn’t do enough to keep her in my life. I’m not so good at fighting for things, I tend to adopt the run and hide technique.’

‘Like I said though, Ben, you have me now, so no more running and definitely no hiding.’ Will smiled. ‘We do this together.’

Will’s confidence was touching, it really was, but Ben knew it was fruitless. There was absolutely no way they would be able to change his mother’s mind on their relationship. No, he had to choose now, it was his family or Will, and he knew exactly where he felt safest.

When the Lights Begin to Fade (5/10).

cloudysky — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 23:44:29 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (5/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,473.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.
A/N: I’ve gone over this chapter a million times and I’m still not entirely happy with it, but there’s only so much editing I can do before I go out of my mind, so I’m going ahead and posting it before I just... don’t lol.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

5.

Moving to prop his head up on his hand, Ben peered over at the sleeping form of Will beside him. The younger man had dozed off an hour ago and Ben didn’t have the heart to wake him, even though he knew he should so he could head back home again. Will looked so peaceful lying there; the thought of disturbing him wasn’t a particularly appealing one and he couldn’t possibly leave without saying goodbye, he’d only end up getting it in the neck the next time they got together if he did.

He smiled, tentatively reaching a hand out and brushing a piece of hair from Will’s eyes. He let his hand linger a moment, his fingertips brushing across the younger man’s cheek.

This time, Will did stir, but he merely moved closer, cuddling up to Ben and burying himself in the soft fabric of his jumper.

Ben let him, wrapping an arm around Will’s shoulders and pulling him in closer. He was thankful for the warmth the younger man created. Seeing as they hadn’t bothered to get under the covers, and attempting it now would be too much hassle for both of them, he was beginning to feel the cold.

It was weird, being like this with Will, being so close to him... so comfortable.

In fact, all of this was weird, incredibly so.

Not two weeks ago they’d been nothing more than friends and now, here they were, lying awake at all hours sharing kisses and talking about absolutely everything. And when Ben said everything, he really meant everything. He’d found out some of the most ridiculous things over the past few weeks. From what Will was going to be called if he’d ended up a girl, to the day a five-year-old Will had got rather well acquainted with his mother’s make-up box. They’d known each other for over ten years, but this was the first time Ben could say he really knew anything about his friend.

Last night had been the first time they’d ended up at Will’s flat and upon stepping through the door Ben had been more than a little shocked at what he saw. He’d been warned it wasn’t anything particularly special to look at, but hadn’t prepared himself for how true that might actually be.

The place was tiny, miniscule even, with mismatched carpets and walls, and cracked tiles in the bathroom. But Ben figured that this was exactly how he could have ended up too if he’d not begged his way back into his parents home, so he could hardly complain about the decor without looking like a prize idiot. Sometimes you had to make sacrifices if you wanted to keep your independence.

It was strange though, no matter how much of a mess the place was, having Will there with him, it still felt just like home. He felt safe, like he could take on the world so long as they were together... and when he’d started thinking like that God only knew. Becoming a hopeless romantic was a rather recent thing.

The young man in his arms stirred again, burying his head against Ben’s shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his jumper, pulling him in closer. Ben smiled. He couldn’t help but find Will fascinating to watch while he slept, he was always so peaceful... mesmerising even.

By now he should have been on the other side of the city and preparing for an audition, but he couldn’t find the strength to even get up from the bed, let alone head out into the cold night and make his way to White City. It was an important audition, too, for a part that stood a very good chance of putting him back in the spotlight. But he didn’t care, he really didn’t care, he had all he needed right here.

It had been a long time since he’d felt truly happy in his own skin, and Will made him feel that way. What would rocking the boat achieve?

When Will finally opened his eyes, it was nearing dawn, and for several moments the younger man did nothing but stare, clearly confused by Ben’s presence.

Ben decided he’d better be the one to kill the silence and murmured very softly, ‘Hi there.’

‘Hi...’ the response he received was extremely muted and Will pulled away from him slightly, rubbing a hand over his face as he yawned. He seemed more than a little dazed upon waking up, but then, he had been asleep for almost three hours. ‘You’re still here,’ he added eventually. ‘You shouldn’t still be here.’

With a gentle smile on his face, Ben nodded his response and moved to sit up against the headboard instead. He gazed down at the younger man for several moments, quiet in his contemplation. ‘Couldn’t seem to tear myself away from you,’ he murmured. ‘Stupid, I know. I’ll never get anywhere.’

Will shrugged before he followed suit and joined Ben in sitting up, leaning against him and responding with, ‘I don’t know, I suppose it depends on what you need to get by...’

‘To be honest, I think I could get by fine with how we are right now,’ Ben said.

With an unexpected chuckle, Will moved very suddenly into Ben’s line of sight and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. He let it linger a while, still sleepy and lethargic from having only just woken up. ‘Why don’t we then? Move in with me?’ he asked when he finally pulled away. ‘Would save you living at your parents any longer, which I know you can’t stand, and you’d actually have somewhere to call your own. Sort of anyway.’

‘We’ve only been together two weeks; do you really think that’s the best idea?’

Will perked an eyebrow, still only a breaths width away. ‘Would I have suggested it if I didn’t?’ he questioned lightly. ‘We’ve lived out of each others pockets before now and things were – dare we say it – strained back then, so I think this should be a piece of cake.’

There was no way on earth Ben could just come out and say yes right away, no matter how enthusiastic Will was about the whole thing, there were too many questions that needed to be asked, too many things that needed to be figured out before he could even think about moving in with anyone. There were still a lot of things he needed to tell the younger man, things he’d promised he would, but was putting off time and time again.

Then again, if he did take Will up on the offer, he’d have a home again as Will had pointed out, something that not even a month ago he’d have killed for. He smiled, biding time as he thought it over, and then leant in to press incessant kisses to the younger man’s lips.

‘So...?’ Will was knelt right in front of him now, an attentive smile on his face, and his hands tangled into Ben’s hair.

Taking a deep breath, Ben thought about it a second longer, and then shrugged his shoulders. ‘Why the hell not? Got nothing to lose in trying,’ he said with a chuckle.

Will grinned – no, not grinned, he beamed, his entire face lighting up as he announced, ‘I promise that you won’t regret this.’

Ben really hoped not.

*

Dropping his case down onto the floor outside Will’s door, and very narrowly missing his toes in the process, Ben reached a hand out to knock. He was quick to pull it back again though as he felt the wood crumble slightly beneath his fist. Eyes wide, he tried again, more tentatively this time.

Christ, the place really was falling to pieces. He’d known it was bad, but perhaps he hadn’t realised just how bad (or Will had neglected to tell him that part at least). Today probably wasn’t the best time to start noticing these things though, Ben realised, but it was a little too late and he was already here. He could hardly make a run for it now he’d taken that first step toward moving in.

Following their discussion earlier that day, Ben had made his way straight back home and started on his packing. He managed to avoid his parents for the majority of his stay, only coming across his mother as he was heading out of the door with two cases in hand. The confrontation didn’t come without questioning and it was another twenty minutes before he actually left the house. She wanted to know everything, and each and every reply was received with a frown. In the end, Ben gave up caring, said his goodbyes and left her standing in the hallway talking to herself.

As per usual, Will was taking his sweet time to let Ben inside and as the seconds ticked by, he found himself becoming more and more paranoid.

When Will finally opened the door, Ben felt a sudden sense of relief and was thankful for it. If he’d been there any longer he probably would have grabbed his case and legged it. He’d met one of the younger man’s neighbours during his wait and, in a nutshell, he wasn’t particularly keen.

The old man, who introduced himself as Mr. Gardener, had taken one look at him and produced such a psychotic smile that Ben had almost taken off there and then. But he stood his ground, biting down hard on his lip as Mr. Gardener lurked in the doorway of number twenty-six for well over a minute, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching as Ben waited for an answer and clearly ready to pounce if he didn’t get it.

The very second the door was opened, Ben dived through it faster than lightning, and then slammed it closed behind him again before the younger man even got the chance to try, crying, ‘Your neighbour is fucking nuts, Will!’

Will stared, frozen to the spot, his hand in mid air as if he still held onto the door. ‘I’m sorry?’ he said then, laughing. ‘My neighbour?’

‘You should have seen the way he was looking at me,’ Ben continued, shaking his head as he began to pace. ‘He--’ pausing dramatically, he pointed over to the door ‘--is clearly not right in the head.’

Apparently Will wasn’t listening to a word he was saying and brushed past him, picking up one of Ben’s cases as he went and placing it in the corner of the room out of the way. ‘Who are you talking about?’ he asked eventually, taking a seat on the end of the bed. ‘Do you mean Ricky because, Ben, I don’t think that boy could hurt so much as a fly?’

Ben gaped at him. ‘Boy?’ he repeated. ‘Who are you talking about?’

‘My neighbour...?’ Will laughed and lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

Clearly there was some kind of misunderstanding going on here and Ben didn’t have a clue where to even start on figuring it out so, instead, slumped down onto the bed beside the younger man and admitted defeat. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he murmured. ‘Apparently I’m the crazy one... or something.’

‘Or something.’

More laughter and Ben looked over at Will, playfully sticking his elbow out and jabbing him in the ribs. ‘Don’t be cruel,’ he said.

Will flashed a grin in his direction. ‘But you make it so easy for me.’

‘I do not,’ Ben argued, beginning to laugh himself now, unable to control it anymore. ‘You’re talking rubbish--'

‘No, I’m not,’ Will cut in. He shifted where he was sat, turning around so that he was facing Ben instead and tilted his head a little. ‘All you need to do is open your mouth and - BAM--'(Ben jumped on the spot) ‘--more ammo for me.’

Narrowing his eyes and getting the feeling now that the younger man had moved on purpose, Ben did what Will probably wanted and cut off any further argument with a kiss. It was the first time he’d initiated it, found the confidence to, and the instant their lips met, he felt his heart rate quicken. He fell into the kiss happily, bringing a hand up to Will’s face and caressing his jaw as he allowed it to deepen.

It took a few minutes, but the kiss eventually came to a natural end and they were both left a little out of breath, Ben still clinging onto the sleeve of Will’s shirt, determined to make sure he didn’t get away.

‘That’s definitely one of the plus points to you moving in,’ whispered Will after a moment.

Ben smiled, brushing the pad of his thumb over the younger man’s cheek as he leant in again, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. ‘Can’t complain,’ he said. ‘In fact, I could get ridiculously used to it.’

‘Well...’ Smiling, Will trailed a hand down Ben’s chest, his fingertips picking out the buttons of his shirt. ‘There’s more where that came from. Whenever you’re ready, that is. I’m in no hurry to get there.’

That was one of things Ben appreciated most about how Will was handling their relationship – if there was one thing he never did, it was push for more intimacy. He seemed perfectly content with whatever they did, whether it was spending the evening curled up watching a movie or whether they did actually teeter on the edge of taking that next step. But if Ben backed out at the last minute, he never held it against him, not even slightly.

Some days, it was that very same fact that made Ben wonder why he hadn’t overstepped the friendship mark sooner.

‘So I was going to order Chinese for dinner. Sound good to you?’

Ben quickly realised that Will had moved again, prized himself from Ben’s grasp and wandered over to the fridge, home to the most ridiculous collection of takeaway menu’s he’d ever seen. Will must have kept hold of every single one that had come through the letter box, but at least it gave them a good choice when they were hungry.

‘Perfect,’ Ben answered with a smile, lying down and giving Will some room for when he came back over.

He was joined a moment later and they spent ten minutes pawing through their choices, spreading themselves out across the expanse of the duvet. They lost several menu’s to the floor during the process and Will had to go scrabbling about to find his favourite, but they figured it out in the end and an hour later they were sprawled out in the exact same spot feeding each other bites of the feast they’d ordered.

Creepy neighbours aside, as far as evenings went, this one was pretty perfect. But hey, you couldn’t have everything!

A bit of Pondy-ness for a Sunday afternoon!

cloudysky — Sun, 20 Feb 2011 17:23:56 GMT

While everyone else is at Gally, I finished my Amy Pond A Christmas Carol kissogram cosplay! :D

These pics were taken in a rush so I didn't really get chance to sort my hair extensions/hair out or paint my nails (or change the laces in my Dr Martens if you're being fussy), but they're better than my in progress ones lol.

And the back...

I can't wait to debut this at Memorabilia in four and half weeks time, it's gonna be mega!!!

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (4/10).

cloudysky — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 20:48:35 GMT

Posting this now to get it out of the way. Got a busy weekend ahead of me (for once).

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (4/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 3,601.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.
A/N: Apologies in advance for the cheese at the end lol.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

4.

‘Can I interest you in some pink champagne, sir?’

The mouthful of vol-au-vent Will had just eaten went absolutely everywhere, he couldn’t stop it no matter how hard he tried. Any chance of controlling his laughter went completely out of the window the moment the waiter spoke and he sprayed puff pastry all over Ben’s suit.

‘Oh my God, you’re drunk already!’ was the first thing that was said.

Will was quick to counter this accusation as he said, ‘I am not drunk. Not even slightly.’

The waiter was still stood there; holding his try aloft in what Will presumed was supposed to be an alluring manner, but he was failing, in epic proportions.

Ben was the one to throw him a lifeline and took two glasses, offering a smile as the young man raced away as quickly as his feet would carry him.

‘What was that?’ he asked, speaking in hushed tones.

‘I can’t help it; everything’s so bloody pink at this wedding,’ said Will. He bit down on his lip (painfully hard) to stop another laugh escaping and began to brush the pastry from Ben’s shoulder. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Will you stop it already?’ Ben stepped suddenly from his reach. ‘It’s like having a wife.’

This time Will perked an eyebrow and gave in to his chuckles, plucking a glass from one of Ben’s hands. ‘I presume one of these is mine,’ he said softly. ‘Thanks, love.’

The comment earned him a glare, but he couldn’t find the strength to care, he was having too much fun teasing today and this was only the beginning.

As for the service earlier that day, everything had gone to plan. Everyone was wearing pink but the bride and Jack didn’t pass out while reciting his vows. Couldn’t grumble really, a wedding was a wedding and so far, this one had gone without a hitch.

They were currently at the reception venue preparing for the sit down meal. After that it would be back to wherever they could find to freshen up before, finally, the evening reception and disco kicked off that night. Will was looking forward to tonight more than anything, this afternoon would be nothing more than people complaining that their fish took too long to come and Ben’s dad getting drunk before they’d even started on the speeches. Not to mention the fact that he knew he was about to find himself left alone.

However, there was a tiny moment which Will had to admit he was looking forward to, and that was Ben’s speech as best man. He’d heard it once before (he’d been talked into it a fortnight ago) and there was no doubt that it had changed again by now, but he knew it would be worth a listen.

If there was one thing Will could never get bored of, it was listening to the sound of that man’s voice – not that he’d ever admit that to Ben of course, his head was big enough already – but it was wonderful.

‘Oh, Jack’s waving at me... I better go.’ Ben was right in his ear as he spoke, trying his hardest to be heard over the din of family and friends. ‘I think Kayla said you were at table six,’ he added.

‘Right, table six, check.’ Will closed his eyes a moment, the feel of Ben’s lips brushing his skin distracting him, but then he nodded and looked up in time to see the older man run off. He sighed, glanced toward table six and murmured, ‘Let’s hope they have a good sense of humour then...’

As it turned out, his fellow occupants at table six had more than a sense of humour and consisted of Kayla’s Aunt Susan, Uncle Michael and cousins Jane and Sarah, two of Jack’s friends, Bobbie and Laura and last, but definitely not least, one of Ben and Jack’s distant relatives by the name of Harvey. Will was pretty sure that wasn’t his actual name, but that’s what he insisted people call him by and who was he to argue?

He was asked the usual questions, from who he knew in the wedding party, down to what he did for a living. The questions about his career were the worst, but he did his best to dodge them and spin the tables around onto somebody else as soon as was humanly possible.

Four courses and three glasses of champagne later, and the speeches began. There were the usual tears and tantrums, jokes that should have been funny, but really weren’t, and then they came to Ben...

It took Will several minutes to realise that Laura had been nudging him throughout the whole thing and when he eventually glanced back to her as Ben finished speaking, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

‘You two,’ she started, cheeks stained with pink. ‘You’re together, aren’t you?’

Will stared. ‘Us?’ he questioned. ‘Me and Ben, you mean?’

Nodding, Laura picked up her drink and took a sip before adding, ‘You look shocked.’ She smiled. ‘He was looking your way every other minute while we were in church, clearly couldn’t help himself. How on earth can you not have noticed? I don’t think he could have been any more obvious if he’d tried.’

The thing was though, Will really hadn’t noticed, and being told that one of his oldest friends appeared to have a thing for him, by someone else entirely (especially someone he didn’t even know), came as a bit of a shock.

‘Oh God, you really had no idea did you?’ Laura’s eyes were wide.

‘I – no, I really didn’t,’ he said finally, his gaze now drawn back toward Ben.

Ben was in the middle of a conversation with Jack, their heads bent low as they talked, but somehow he still seemed to sense Will was looking his way and glanced up, flashing a soft smile across the room.

Will returned the smile, briefly, and then turned back to Laura, murmuring, ‘Thank you.’

By the time they left the hall, it was getting on for six and time was ticking rapidly away until they all had to be back down again for the disco. Will followed Laura and Bobbie out, happy to engage in idle some chitchat until he could gain Ben’s attention and drag the older man away from his family once more.

And it turned out they made for pretty decent conversation, especially Laura and her laughable theories about Ben, of which he had now heard many. But, in the end, it didn’t take too long for the Barnes family to disperse, and Ben came to him unprompted.

‘I thought I’d never escape,’ Ben said, laughing as he laid a hand gently to Will’s arm. ‘Oh well, the worst is over now, right?’

‘Don’t know about that, wouldn’t say it was over by a long shot.’ Smiling up at him, Will lifted a shoulder in a casual and playful shrug. ‘They haven’t seen your dancing yet, and we both know how that’s likely to turn out.’

Ben opened his mouth, clearly ready to protest, but then seemed to change his mind as a bright smile appeared on his face. ‘Sounds like a challenge to me!’ he said.

With a soft laugh, Will shook his head, not gracing that with a response, and started for the staircase. He figured he’d give the lifts a miss for now, everyone would be heading that way and he’d be stood there all night if he attempted it. Besides, his room was only on the second floor, there was no hardship in walking two flights of stairs and it was good exercise after all.

Several moments later though, he paused, realising that Ben hadn’t followed. ‘Coming?’ he asked.

Ben, who was now looking over at the dispersing crowd, appeared to shake himself out of some sort of daze before turning back to Will. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Jack said he wanted me for something, but he seems to have run off again, so... Well, I guess not.’ He laughed lightly.

Taking several steps toward the older man and closing the gap between them slightly, Will bit down on his lip a second. ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Everything’s great.’ Ben smiled.

The smile seemed genuine enough, hesitation aside, so Will was happy to let it slide.

‘So,’ he said then, laughing. ‘Let me try this again. Are you coming?’

Ben nodded and fell into step with him a moment later, making light conversation as they made their way up the stairs. Mostly they talked about the wedding, the look on Jack’s face just after the vicar had pronounced them man and wife, and the way Auntie Sarah had managed to blow her nose rather dramatically at the very worst time.

It wasn’t until they reached Ben’s door that things became awkward. Will would have been quite happy to leave him there and say goodbye until later on (there was no sense in pushing anything), but just as he turned away, he felt Ben reach out and touch his arm and not five seconds later, he found himself stepping into his friend’s room.

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ said Ben, pushing the door to.

Will edged backwards very slowly, right until he found that he’d walked into the couch, so he sat down instead.

At first, they were both silent and Ben appeared to take this opportunity to shrug off his jacket and drape it (rather majestically) over the back of a chair. He paced the room a couple of times, folding and unfolding his arms as he went, his shoes scuffing against the carpet.

When he finally came to a standstill, the colour had drained from his face and Will was feeling anxious.

‘I’m just going to come out and say this, OK,’ murmured Ben, dropping his arms back down to his sides one final time. ‘I have to come out and say it.’

Will nodded and offered a smile of encouragement. ‘All right,’ he responded.

Ben’s eyes fell closed briefly and then, when he opened them again, he seemed to have gathered some kind of spirit from somewhere because he really did just come right out and say it.

‘I’m attracted to you,’ he said simply, bluntly. ‘I have been for a while now. I don’t know when it started, but I can’t stop fucking thinking about you anymore and it’s driving me crazy. This might be completely out of the blue... I don’t know. But I’m hoping to God this doesn’t freak you out, because it’s the last thing I want. I mean, you’re Will, you’re you, you’re--’

‘One of your closest friends right now,’ Will cut him off midsentence, getting back to his feet.

‘Exactly! I don’t want this, whatever it is, to fuck any of that up,’ Ben continued, slightly oblivious. ‘We’ve been getting on so well lately, getting on better than we ever have really, so this is... it’s inconvenient – really inconvenient. The timing of this is so incredibly bad, ridiculous even, and you’re probably thinking I’m a complete twat right now for even saying anything. I don’t know, maybe you don’t, and I hope you don’t.’ He stopped suddenly and looked away. ‘I’m going on a hell of a lot here so, you know, feel free to stop me at any moment so I can breathe or--’

This time Will stopped his babbling by placing a finger to his lips and the older man fell silent immediately. ‘Ben...’ he started softly. ‘Calm down and shut up.’

Will took his hand away again and smiled, and then without any further warning, leant in and pressed their lips together tenderly. And that was all he did to begin with, he wanted to let Ben take the reins, so told himself not to move another inch. He didn’t have to wait long for the older man to kiss him back though, and Ben’s sudden enthusiasm startled him somewhat.

But pressing himself closer, Will ignored it and brought his hands up to Ben’s chest, tugging gently on the fabric of his shirt in encouragement. He let the kiss deepen, slowly, his lips parting on a natural breath and his tongue exploring tentatively.

There was absolutely no reason to rush any of this and he knew that now.

When he finally pulled away to look at the man in front of him, he couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped. Ben was stood there in some kind of idyllic daze, eyes still closed tight and his left eyebrow perked rather comically.

‘You can open your eyes now,’ said Will, grinning up at him. ‘Idiot.’

Ben’s eyes shot open as soon as he spoke, his cheeks flushing with colour. ‘Sorry,’ he laughed. ‘Just... yeah.’

‘Oh come on, I know I’m good, but that takes the biscuit.’ Will chuckled lightly, reaching a hand out toward the older man’s face and gently stroking Ben’s cheek with his fingertips.

Smiling softly, Ben’s eyes fell closed very briefly at Will’s touch, and then he sighed, bringing his own hand up and lacing their fingers together. ‘Took me by surprise I guess,’ he admitted. ‘Kind of the last thing I expected to happen today to be honest.’

Now that made no sense at all.

Will shook his head, loosing Ben’s hand slightly and pressing their fingertips together instead. ‘Why would think that?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ben hesitated as his gaze dropped down to their hands.

‘Don’t know much today, do you?’ With a smile, Will stepped back in close so that Ben was forced to look at him. ‘You honestly think I would have put up with all this chaos for just anyone? Because I wouldn’t, Ben, I really wouldn’t. I should have been out looking for work this past month, but instead I chose to spend it with you, helping with the plans of a wedding for a couple I don’t even know. Not well at least.’ He shrugged. ‘I did it so I had an excuse to spend time with you and if you haven’t figured that out by now... well; you really are more of an idiot than I first thought.’

Ben laughed, his gaze lifting to the ceiling a moment. ‘Thanks,’ he uttered.

‘Sorry, but it’s true,’ said Will.

‘I know...’

This time when Ben’s eyes met his, he didn’t seem quite as anxious and he smiled softly. It was the smile that Will had been waiting for, the one that lit up Ben’s entire face and told him exactly what he needed to know.

‘I suppose,’ Ben said, ‘I didn’t think you’d be interested in me now.’

‘Why?’ Will didn’t understand the logic behind that and shook his head.

‘Well, I’m not exactly in the prime of my youth anymore am I? My mother’s constantly berating me and telling me I need to settle down with a nice girl and it’s--’ Ben stopped and he sighed, heavily. ‘Why would you even want me?’

Will stared at him, agape, and then, before he started shouting out his response, reached out and cupped the older man’s face in his hand, kissing his lips once, twice, three times. ‘You really are silly, Ben Barnes,’ he whispered.

-

The champagne was flowing, the cake had been cut and the dance floor was filled with children sliding across it on their knees and ruining their clothes. Without a shadow of a doubt, the reception was in full swing and even Aunt Sarah was smiling (which was a very rare sight indeed).

‘Uncle Ben, Uncle Ben! Look at me! Look, look!’

Ben was currently being dragged by the sleeve into the middle of the madness, his cousin’s son leading the way like an excitable puppy. He also had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at seeing as all Charlie had done since reaching his destination was stand completely still on the spot.

‘Loooook!’

No, there was still nothing happening.

Ben risked a fleeting glance to Will (search for help and finding none) before turning his attention back to the matter in hand. ‘What Charlie?’ he asked, crouching down to the youngster’s level and flashing him a smile. ‘Tell me what I’m meant to be looking at.’

Charlie frowned, and then got on his tiptoes. ‘You’re not looking,’ he said defiantly.

‘I am looking.’ Ben was finding himself getting perplexed now. ‘See, I’m right here.’

‘No you’re not. You keep looking at him.’ The five year old stuck his hand out, pointing over in Will’s general direction, his mouth twisting into a deep frown. He didn’t come across as particularly happy that Ben’s attention was currently divided. ‘I haven’t seen you forever and ever and you won’t spend any time with me,’ he whined.

Exhaling very slowly, Ben reached out to hold Charlie’s face in his hands and fixed him with a playful stare. ‘Won’t spend any time with you?’ he repeated, chuckling softly. ‘I’ll show you won’t spend any time with you.’

Two seconds later he’d swept Charlie up into his arms and begun smothering his face in kisses, which were accepted with shrieks of delight and laughter.

By the time Ben had placed him back down on the floor again, he’d gained the attention of half the room at least and, from over by the buffet table, Will was smiling at him (beaming even).

He was about to head on over when he felt something tug on his trouser leg and glanced down to find Charlie’s younger sister, Lucy, clinging onto him. ‘Me now?’ she asked, her blue eyes wide as saucers with pre-emptive glee.

Ben gave in easily and not five minutes later, found himself surrounded by every child at the wedding and leading a conga around the room. He had no idea how it had even happened, but he didn’t care anymore, he was having way too much fun. Besides, the longer he kept this up, the more time he’d have later to spend with Will because he would have worn all the kids out.

By ten p.m., they’d all be asleep, no problem.

But of course, ten rolled around and he was still being pestered for dances from a few of the pre-teen girls. He didn’t have the heart to say no to them.

At eleven, he was finally able to call time on it and grabbed himself a drink (water, nothing more), collapsing into a chair off to the side of the dance floor. Will joined him moments later and laid his head on Ben’s shoulder. ‘Don’t think you’re done yet, Mr. Barnes,’ he whispered. ‘You still need to dance with me. You’re not getting out of that one, no way, no how.’

Ben smiled and turned his head just enough so that he could look Will in the eye. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ he answered softly.

‘Good.’ Will grinned.

Ben had no idea how long they were sat like that, but he only realised that they hadn’t moved for quite sometime when his mother appeared out of nowhere to inform him that Jack and Kayla were leaving. They were both knocked back to reality quite abruptly, and if her sudden intrusion hadn’t done it, the look she gave them as she walked away certainly would have.

At first, he said nothing, but just as he was getting to his feet, he glanced to Will and he could see the apprehension written all over the younger man’s face.

‘It’ll be fine,’ murmured Ben. ‘No worries.’

Will nodded and stayed quiet, walking with him across the ballroom and to where Jack and Kayla were saying their goodbyes.

Quite a crowd had gathered, so it was easy to get lost in the sea of faces. Jack, however, was quick to spot them both and pulled Ben into a hug. Kayla joined him a moment later, gushing her thanks, while sobbing nosily into her handkerchief.

In fact, it all got a bit on the emotional side after that and Ben was glad when they finally left the room and his father bellowed, ‘Someone pass the whiskey!’ on his way to the bar.

Will took this opportunity to steal him away into a dark corner until the DJ decided to slow the pace of the music down. It took twenty minutes or so, but those twenty minutes weren’t wasted, not even slightly. They shared soft kisses and between the kisses, talked about where all of this left them after tonight. It wasn’t that Ben was worried about might happen when the drunken haze had lifted; he only wanted to make sure he wasn’t alone in how he felt.

He was pleased to find he wasn’t.

By the time they made it to the dance floor, an old Take That song was playing and Ben almost backed out again, right up until Will reached for his hand anyway and murmured soothingly, ‘Forget about them.’

Ben did as he was told and allowed himself to fall into Will’s embrace, the younger man’s head resting on his shoulder once more. He briefly noticed his mother looking in their direction, but blocked it out of his mind and let his eyes flutter closed, a soft smile curling onto his lips as he felt Will’s breath, warm against his neck.

‘Thank you...’whispered Will.

‘Thank you for what?’

‘For having the courage to say something today; we wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t.’

Smiling, Ben turned his head and let his lips brush against Will’s cheek. ‘You’re welcome...’ he said quietly. ‘And just so you know, I wouldn’t change it for the world.’

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (3/10).

cloudysky — Sat, 12 Feb 2011 23:33:03 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (3/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,087.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

3.

‘God, this is gay... even for me.’

Ben looked up from what he was doing (sorting through fabric swatches) and perked an eyebrow. ‘I have absolutely no idea what you mean,’ he said, biting back a laugh. He held up a swatch of pink taffeta against his shirt. ‘What do you think of this one?’

A moment later, both he and Will fell into peals of laughter, and what they were supposed to be doing was soon forgotten.

‘It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m convinced this Kayla girl thinks she’s marrying you and not Jack,’ said Will, idly brushing a piece of fluff from his trouser leg.

‘How do you mean?’ Ben asked, shooting him a pointed look.

‘Well...’ the younger man continued. ‘Look at all this; it all seems a bit too high end for your Jack, doesn’t it? He was always a bit on the scruffy side whenever I saw him.’

‘Appearances can be deceiving, you know.’ Chuckling, Ben gave up entirely on what he was doing and dropped the book of swatches down onto the coffee table, reaching for his bottle of Coke instead. ‘Jack’s changed quite a bit over the last couple of years. She’s really brought something out in him.’

Will smiled, idly flicking through one of the wedding magazines on the table. ‘I can see that all right, who in their right mind would let their fiancé dress them in pink for their wedding day?’

OK, so Will had a point, and Ben couldn’t help the laughter that followed, once again. There was bringing out your feminine side, and then there was bringing out your feminine side, and all of this was beginning to verge on the ridiculous.

Jack had never really been one to care what anyone thought; he’d often have left the house in a pair of ripped jeans and a jumper that needed a good wash. But he didn’t care because that was who he was and if people didn’t like that, tough. Nowadays though, he spent the majority of his time in pristinely ironed shirts and chinos, overly polished brogues peeking out from underneath.

Pink shirts and ties though? Overkill; even for the new and improved Jack.

‘What exactly are they making you wear?’ asked Will suddenly – he’d clearly only just thought about this.

Ben blinked. ‘To be completely honest, I don’t actually know,’ he admitted. ‘Kayla hasn’t said anything to me about it yet. Although, I presume, it would have to be something similar to what Jack’s wearing.’

The snort of laughter that came from the other side of the living room made Ben jump slightly, but Will was quick to shake his head and throw his hands up in an apology. ‘I’m sorry,’ he spluttered. ‘But the thought of you in pink is just--' He didn’t finish, he couldn’t finish, he was laughing too hard. ‘God, are you really?’

‘Well, if you’re going to laugh, I’ll just give Kayla back this invite she wanted me to pass on,’ Ben supplied with a slight scowl in the younger man’s direction.

Will sobered immediately, his eyes lighting up. ‘I’m invited?’ he asked.

‘I know. I found it just as hard to believe as you.’ Shrugging his shoulders, Ben pulled out the invite and made to rip it in half. ‘But if you’re not going to take it seriously, I suppose I’ll get rid of this and tell Kayla you’re busy that day.’

Eyes narrowing, the younger man leapt forward and snatched the envelope from Ben’s outstretched hand. Ben let him have it, falling back into his seat and laughing softly as Will ripped it open feverishly. He couldn’t possibly have passed up the opportunity to tease; it was way too easy sometimes and he enjoyed it, perhaps a little too much.

‘Seeing as you’ve been helping out so much with the plans, I suppose Kayla thought you should come and see how it all turned out, take a look at your handiwork,’ said Ben, before flashing a mischievous grin. ‘Besides, you’ll look absolutely stunning in a pink shirt.’

Will stared at him for a long moment, and then tossed the invite without warning and dived across the coffee table, exclaiming with a laugh, ‘You complete and utter wanker.’

Ben wasn’t quick enough to avoid the blow and ended up getting smashed in the cheek by Will’s fist as he attempted to escape (or so he thought). As it turned out, the younger man had stumbled on the edge of the coffee table and gone bowling straight into him, practically head butting him in the face.

No one had ever claimed that Will was graceful in his actions.

Either way, it bloody well hurt... a lot.

‘If you’re quite done,’ Ben heard himself saying, scrambling back to his feet and straightening out his shirt with a gentle chuckle.

Will, who was now occupying the space he had vacated, slapped a hand to his mouth, holding back another explosion of laughter. ‘If you’re quite done?’ he repeated, words muffled behind his hand. ‘Since when did you start talking like--'

‘Like you?’ Ben questioned, cutting him off mid sentence and perking an eyebrow.

‘That was not what I was going to say,’ laughed Will.

‘No, I know.’ Ben flashed him a smile. ‘But it’s true though, you do talk like a bit of a toff sometimes. – well, you talk like a toff most of the time if I really think about it.’

‘It’s my accent, I can’t help it.’

With a shrug, Ben moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of Will, and then leant forward, resting his arms on his thighs. ‘Are you going to come to the wedding then?’ he asked, completely changing the subject. ‘I could do with some company. And I know that my entire family will be there before you say it, but they’ll be too busy gushing all over Jack and his fantastic new wife to pay me an iota of attention. I’ll just be the guy who isn’t doing too well anymore and I don’t want to be subjected to where that might lead. Mum telling distant Aunts and Uncles how Ben’s fallen off the wagon or... something.’

Will looked at him for a long time until he said anything. ‘I don’t really have a choice, do I?’ he asked.

‘Not really.’ Ben laughed softly, and awkwardly. ‘But just think, free bar, free excuse to laugh at everyone.’

There was a collective moment of silence, and then Will shrugged his shoulders as he said reluctantly, ‘Fine, you’ve twisted my arm.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t really have to wear a pink shirt though, do I?’

‘If I have to wear a pink shirt, you’re bloody well wearing a pink shirt.’

‘Anyone would think it was the end of the world,’ Will chuckled. ‘No one’s going to question your masculinity, Ben.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ he responded, fixing the younger man with a playful stare. ‘Seeing as I’m taking you as my date.’

-

There was a collective moment of silence as Ben stepped from the fitting rooms. Three seconds later the laughter began and he immediately hid back behind the curtain.

‘No, come back!’ called Will, although his words were so thickly laced with mirth it was almost impossible to make anything out he said. ‘I’ll behave, I’m sorry, I really am sorry. You look great.’

When he re-emerged, Ben regarded the younger man with suspicion, one eyebrow raised as he peered at his own reflection for the first time. He could understand why Will had laughed, and he almost laughed himself. The pink shirt and cravat was throwing absolutely everything good about the outfit off, it didn’t matter what you did to try and hide it.

‘Well, now I know you’re lying,’ he said, casting a glance in Will’s direction and smiling.

Will grinned, walking up behind him, arms folded. ‘Would I lie to you?’

Looking back, be it fleetingly, Ben chuckled as he said, ‘Yes! Yes, I think you would.’ He shrugged, turning back to the mirror. ‘Go on then, what’s so great about this particular ensemble?’

There was a long pause, longer than Ben felt comfortable with, but soon the younger man stood behind him was laughing again. ‘Honestly?’ he queried and Ben nodded. ‘Your arse looks bloody fantastic in those trousers.’

‘And to anyone not likely to be looking at my arse?’

‘You’re wearing a pink shirt...’

Ben laughed and looked back to the mirror. ‘I can’t do anything about the pink shirt. Will you shut up about the pink shirt?’ he said, perking an eyebrow.

Holding his hands out in defence, although still chuckling away, Will said, ‘Just telling it how it is.’

Returning to the fitting rooms to change, deciding that Will’s opinion was likely to be the most honest one he’d ever get, Ben made up his mind to get the suit. There was nothing he could do about the pink shirt after all. It could have been worse, a lot worse, yesterday he’d seen what Jack was wearing for the wedding and had been in physical pain trying to stop himself from laughing so hard.

‘So,’ Ben said as he handed over his credit card to the cashier, ‘seeing as we’re all about giving opinions today, how do you fancy having a listen to my best man’s speech?’

Will smiled softly. ‘Are you sure you want an honest opinion on that one?’ he asked. ‘I can be pretty brutal, you know.’

Once he’d collected his things together and turned towards the door, Ben shrugged his shoulders and glanced in the younger man’s direction, amusement in his eyes. ‘Is that a promise?’ he teased. ‘I think I could probably do with a bit of brutality in my life.’

‘I think you could do with a lot of things,’ came the gentle response.

Looking at Will a moment as they made their way towards the car, Ben bit down anxiously on his lower lip. ‘Not sure I know what you mean,’ he said.

Will sighed, not in annoyance at least, but sighed all the same. ‘I’m not meaning to put my foot in it or anything, but you--’ he stopped, cutting himself short. ‘Where are all of your friend’s, or your girlfriend for that matter? Why are they not the ones stood here right now?’

It was, quite possibly, the one question Ben had been dreading and the one question he didn’t actually have an answer for. He didn’t know, he honestly didn’t know.

‘Can we not talk about that right now?’ Ben asked, hoping to save himself some dignity.

‘Sure.’ Apparently Will was easy over the matter. ‘But we have to talk about it someday. You’re always on your own and you’re always free to meet up and I know I’m in the exact same boat, but I’ve been living abroad and you haven’t. You know that isn’t right, Ben.’

Sighing very softly, Ben put everything away in the back of his car and shook his head. ‘I told you I was having a bad year so far, didn’t I?’

Will laughed – snorted – and murmured, ‘There’s bad, Ben, and then there’s downright ridiculous.’

‘And I’m verging on the ridiculous? Yeah, I get it, believe me. I don’t need to be told.’ Slamming the boot closed, he turned around to face the younger man, the hilarity of the situation written all over his face. ‘Things were shit. Things still are shit. I’m working on it though, I’ll get it all back again, and I do mean all of it.’

Ben could sense Will’s gaze on him before he even looked up, but he shrugged it off and slid into the front seat of the car. The younger man joined him shortly afterwards and, to begin with, they were both silent, letting Ben’s words hang in the air for a moment or two.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to--’

‘You didn’t,’ Ben cut Will off, his eyes falling closed very briefly. ‘It’s me.’

The conversation ended there... abruptly.

It wouldn’t be the end of it, not by any stretch of the imagination, and Ben didn’t blame his friend for his concern. Will had always been that way inclined though – he wanted to help everyone. No problem was ever too big or too small. This time however, at least for a short while, Ben needed to figure things out alone and without any help from anyone else.

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (2/10).

cloudysky — Sat, 05 Feb 2011 21:50:23 GMT

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (2/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,538.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
Previous Parts: Here.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

2.

Oxford Street in mid January, it was Ben’s worst nightmare. Yet, here he was, traipsing the length and breadth of it, list firmly in hand.

He had made the mistake of mentioning in passing to Kayla, Jack’s fiancée, that he didn’t have all that much to do at the moment and had been sitting around a lot. It seemed he’d been playing right into her hands by saying that though and the seconds he did, she’d been on him like a rabid dog, waving a ridiculously long list in front of his face, insisting he help out with things that still needed doing for the wedding if he was bored.

Right now he was on the hunt for the small patisserie who were going to be in charge of making Jack and Kayla’s wedding cake (amongst other things). He’d been directed firstly to Oxford Circus, then to turn left down Oxford Street, take the next right, followed by a left, another left, and then finally the second right. It should have been straight in front of him, but that would have been too easy of course. He wasn’t having much luck so far and this was the third time he’d been forced to walk back to Oxford Street and start all over again.

Some days he really, really hated London.

‘OK,’ Ben said softly to himself. ‘Let’s try this again.’

Bringing the map up in front of his face, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he scrutinised it, he began to slowly make his way down the street he presumed was the correct one.

He was sure he’d been down here once before, but what the hell!

Twenty minutes later and he was back on Oxford Circus, map screwed up into a ball and shoved forcefully into his jacket pocket. It was no good, he needed coffee before he tried again, he was getting absolutely nowhere here. Hopefully a caffeine hit would help.

Ben set off down Regent Street, pace ample and Starbucks firmly in his sights. Well, firmly in his thoughts at least, he had a bit of a walk before he got there, but anything to get out of the cold.

He’d just passed the entrance to Hamley’s when he felt someone’s hand touch his shoulder, a gentle tap tap that knocked him from his reverie. He took a moment, mentally preparing himself to turn around and come face-to-face with an old fan from years back, but instead, found himself staring at someone he hadn’t seen for an awful long time. In fact, he couldn’t even remember how long it had been.

‘Thought it was you.’ The man stood in front of him laughed very softly, his pale eyes lighting up as he held out a hand in greeting.

Ben said nothing; instead he shook his head in disbelief and dived forward to embrace the other man in a hug, ignoring the polite gesture. He felt absolutely bloody ridiculous, but he didn’t want to let go for anything right now. William Moseley, an old co-star, an almost forgotten friend. But not anymore, it didn’t matter how long it had been since they’d seen each other, Ben would have recognised that smile anywhere.

He decided not to mention the hair, which Will still had no idea what he was doing with... apparently.

When he finally forced himself to break away from the hug, Ben managed nothing but an awkward laugh as he said, ‘Hollywood looks good on you, Will.’

‘Yeah?’ Will smiled, clearly embarrassed as he idly adjusted the scarf around his neck. ‘Thanks.’

Ben hesitated, hands going to his pockets for something to do. ‘It’s been a while,’ he said. ‘When was the last time I saw you?’

‘I don’t know, five years maybe, give or take six months.’ Shrugging his shoulders, Will glanced very briefly over his shoulder, smiled, and then a moment later, a small child appeared beside him. The young boy smiled, pulling on Will’s sleeve, his blue eyes twinkling. Will, however, failed to notice and continued talking, ‘I’m back in the country now though, for good. We’ll have to catch up sometime, get a coffee, a beer, whatever you fancy.’

‘Great,’ Ben responded, although his attention was now firmly fixed upon the young boy clinging onto Will’s leg. There was absolutely no doubt that this boy was looking as confused as Ben felt. ‘I’m sure there’s plenty to catch up on...’ he added.

Will nodded, but then it seemed to suddenly dawn on him where Ben’s gaze had been drawn, and he chuckled. ‘He’s not mine,’ he said simply. ‘If that’s what you were thinking. There isn’t quite that much to catch up on, believe me.’

‘Oh. No. I wasn’t--' Ben stopped himself mid sentence and brought a hand to his forehead, suddenly quite embarrassed.

Apparently it didn’t go unnoticed and Will began to laugh, laughter that the young boy beside him immediately joined in with, even if he didn’t know why. Soon Ben found himself falling in with them, moment of stupidity forgotten in an instant.

‘Actually...’ Will started, but his attention wavered as a blonde woman stepped up beside him.

It didn’t take Ben long to recognise the young woman as Will’s sister, Daisy, who was quite obviously the parent in this case. She reached down for the young boy’s hand (who, Ben quickly learnt, was called Simon) and pulled him towards her and out of Will’s way.

‘We could go for a coffee now, if you’re not too busy,’ continued Will finally, the relief written all over his face. ‘I was only tagging along on their shopping trip for something to do.’

From the corner of his eye, Ben noticed Daisy’s eyebrow rise and a second later she murmured playfully, ‘Oh, that’s right, Will, you go and abandon us the moment someone more interesting comes along. Of course we don’t mind.’

Will smiled, turning to her briefly. ‘He’s a cheaper date,’ he said.

‘Who said I was cheap?’ Ben chuckled, his eyebrows lifting as Will looked back.

‘Touché!’ Grinning, Daisy slapped Will playfully across the shoulder, and then added, ‘See you later, and don’t forget dinner tonight, OK?’

It took her a minute or so to prise her son away from Will once and for all, but when she had finally achieved the impossible, she offered a wave and dragged the youngster into the depths of Hamley’s, leaving them stood there in silence on the pavement. What happened next was entirely up to them it seemed... and Ben had no idea where to even start.

‘So...’ Will gestured down the street, his mouth curling up into a warm smile. ‘Coffee then?’

‘Coffee,’ repeated Ben.

Turning on his heel, Will falling into step beside him, Ben led the way down Regent Street and toward the closest Starbucks. They didn’t really say much on their walk there, too busy weaving their way in and out of the crowds and trying to avoid any unnecessary attention, but the silence was comfortable, even after all this time, so Ben didn’t mind.

Fifteen minutes later they had finally managed to settle down at a table in the corner of the coffee shop, drinks in front of them and the conversation flowing easily.

It turned out that Will had been back in the country for a good two weeks now; he was busy job hunting and decorating the flat he was renting. Funnily enough, it all sounded very familiar, but Ben held back the urge to laugh.

‘And what about you?’ asked Will, smiling softly as he placed his mug down.

Ben shrugged a shoulder. ‘I think I’ll just say that it’s definitely been better, and can we leave it at that?’ he responded, mirroring the smile. ‘Last year wasn’t the best and, so far, this one isn’t shaping up much better.’

‘Oh yes, because you can always judge how an entire year’s going to go by what you achieve in the first two weeks...’

‘Well... exactly.’ Laughing, Ben narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

His gaze shifting elsewhere now, settling abruptly on his hands, Will continued to reel off words of wisdom for a minute or two before he finally added, ‘So what if you have no money, life’s what you make it. If you’re going to sit and whinge then it’s not going to work out too well, no, but if you get out there and carry on, you never know what could happen.’

Ben stared at Will for several moments, and then shook his head in disbelief. ‘Since when did you get so wise?’

‘Since forever, you just never had the time of day to listen before,’ said Will honestly, although he was clearly trying to fight a smile.

‘Clearly I was an idiot then,’ Ben responded.

‘You won’t hear any arguments from me.’

OK, he’d set himself up for a fall there, but just this once he was quite happy to let it pass and instead, slipped deep into thought and into silence.

When he eventually brought himself back to the conversation it came even easier than before and they were soon ordering refills, Will helping him figure out where on earth this patisserie was supposed to be. It turned out that Will couldn’t make head nor tails of the directions either, but felt sure that between the two of them they would be able track it down before closing time came around.

That came as a small comfort to Ben at the very least.

In all honesty, once they’d set off, Ben realised that he was happy to have the company. Doing all of this alone had started to get to him. He’d been over thinking things that didn’t need over thinking and in retaliation, allowed himself to get complacent when there was no need to. His brother was getting married, everything was going right for him, but that didn’t mean that things wouldn’t pick up for Ben himself again (and perhaps even sooner than he expected).

‘Down here maybe?’

Will was pointing down a small cobbled street that led off to the left of them. It was pretty dark and dim, but there appeared to be a faint and welcoming glow in the windows lining either side, which gave Ben hope.

‘Doesn’t hurt to try,’ he said, striding past Will and ducking down into the passageway.

Sure enough the cobbled pavements were lined with shops – the proper old fashioned kind, with lead windows and steep sloping walls. They continued down the winding street slowly, looking in each window and checking every sign before, eventually, coming across the place that Ben had been searching all afternoon for.

Easy when you knew how.

Will flashed him a smile and chuckled. ‘See,’ he said. ‘Whatever would you do without me?’

With a shake of his head, Ben pushed the younger man playfully out of the way and opened the door, a little bell ringing somewhere in the back of the shop as he did so. He raised an eyebrow mischievously, and then made his way inside with Will following after him, the sweet scent of sugar invading their nostrils the further they went.

He had to admit, this place had looked like nothing from the outside, but appearances were most definitely deceiving in this case as the shop went back for miles.

‘Impressive...’ Will commented softly, his voice no louder than a whisper.

‘Can’t argue with that,’ Ben responded, looking back to him and smiling brightly.

They walked around, taking everything in, until they were joined by a young woman a couple of minutes later. ‘Sorry,’ she huffed, coming to a standstill beside the counter. ‘Didn’t hear you come in, we’re so busy at the moment.’ She laughed, moving to brush a piece of hair from her eyes and somehow managing to smudge icing sugar all over her face in the process.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Ben, taking charge of the situation. ‘We were in no rush.’

She nodded and her smile seemed genuine as she asked, ‘So, how can I help you today?’

‘I’ve been sent by my soon to be sister-in-law to see how her cake’s coming along,’ he explained. ‘Kayla Smith. You may have it down as the Barnes wedding, so Jack and Kayla...?’

‘Right.’ Another nod and she pulled out a small filing box, beginning to rifle through it. ‘So you would be?’ she added a moment later, not bothering to look up.

He hesitated and glanced to Will, who stifled a small laugh, almost daring him to just come out and say it.

‘Ben,’ he said finally, taking a step closer to the counter. ‘Ben Barnes. The groom’s brother.’

The girl stopped her flicking immediately and her gaze lifted from the filing box, settling on his face. Realisation dawned pretty quickly and within seconds her entire face flushed beetroot red. ‘Of course you are,’ she murmured, and then delved back into her box, pulling out a sheet of paper pronto. ‘Here we go!’

Looking to Will, Ben couldn’t help but laugh this time, but the girl at the counter was too ashamed now to even notice their amusement.

‘We actually made a start on the cake last night,’ she said then, smiling brightly. ‘Would you like to come through and have a look, see how it’s coming along? I don’t believe Kayla had decided on a definite design, so I’m sure your input would be greatly appreciated.’

‘Sure, we’d love to have a look,’ Ben answered, his mouth curling up into an impish grin. He glanced at Will and perked an eyebrow. ‘Looks like you’re going to get a chance to show off your artistic flair, Will. I know how you love that.’

Will’s eyes narrowed as they followed the girl through to the kitchen. ‘I may not have seen you for five years, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you the first chance I get,’ he said quietly.

Chuckling, Ben stopped walking very briefly, long enough to nudge the younger man, and then fell into step with the shop assistant they’d been following just as she reached the back room. The cake stood tall and proud before them, white icing that was lightly brushed with silver. They’d done a good job so far, without a doubt. It was impressive, really impressive, and knowing that they weren’t even done yet was a fact Ben simply couldn’t get his head around.

‘So what exactly did you need input on?’ he questioned when she gestured for them both to come closer.

The girl smiled, clearly over her earlier embarrassment and showing a new found confidence instead, something you could almost call cocky. ‘Eric will let you know,’ she said. ‘But I believe he hasn’t started on the decoration yet.’

‘Really?!’ Ben didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but he couldn’t help himself and even laughed at his own stupidity when all eyes were suddenly on him.

‘I take it you like it then?’ she asked, smile now plastered permanently onto her face.

He was going to say something else but Will, however, got there first and was the one to respond, grinning like a complete fool as he said, ‘Whatever would give you that impression?’

Fic: RPF: When the Lights Begin to Fade (1/10).

cloudysky — Sat, 29 Jan 2011 22:43:48 GMT

For anyone who's seeing this and wondering where the next part of my Ben/Georgie fic is, never fear, it's in the works, I just have a lot going on at the moment. It'll be up and finished as soon as things have settled down a little more in my life. Sorry for the long wait.

Title: When the Lights Begin to Fade (1/10).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,000.
Summary: What happens when the bright lights of fame begin to fade? What are you really left with? One minute you’re living in the lap of luxury, and the next, you’re living out of a suitcase and sleeping on your parents couch because they were certain you were never coming back. It’s time for a reality check. Sometimes slotting back into the real world is even harder than you think it’s going to be. When fame no longer comes knocking, it’s time to figure out what really matters. And it’s never what you expect.
A/N: This fic was originally written as one of three for NaNoWriMo back in November, so at some point in the future there will be another two to accompany it in both Harry Potter and Doctor Who fandoms. Set in 2017.

When the Lights Begin to Fade

1.

Following an elderly couple down the ramp, pulling his hand luggage behind him, Will slid his mobile phone from his jacket pocket and switched it back on. He waited several moments for a beep or vibration, but nothing happened, so it went straight back where it had come from, his mouth turning down into a frown.

It was some ridiculous time of the morning (although he really had no clue what time exactly) and what he really wanted was his bed. Bed though, was the last thing on the agenda for today; first things first, he needed to find himself somewhere to live. He’d booked into a hotel for the time being – nothing too extravagant, the money just wasn’t there – but he really wanted somewhere he could call home before the day was out.

After spending a good eight years living out in the US (Los Angeles mostly), Will was finally on his way back home, and this time it was for good.

He’d debated over it for a while, money was short and his career, near nonexistent. It had simply taken him time to make the final decision. He loved America and he had some fantastic friends there, but at the end of the day, there was no way he could justify the cost of living in Hollywood anymore if he was without work.

His first thought had been to call his sister, Daisy, and see if she could put him up. The immediate response had been a flat-out no, she had her in-laws over and that was that, they took up all and any available space in her terrace house, so there would be no room for him. Of course, she had two children and three dogs to boot, so it was a bit of a tight squeeze anyway. He was hardly surprised.

He had absolutely no intention of inconveniencing his parents, so had no option but to hunt down somewhere else to live. Not that he minded living on his own (he was used to it now), nor did he mind moving back to the UK, not really.

Reaching the end of the concourse, Will took a moment to take in his surroundings before setting off again to salvage his luggage from the wreckage of arrivals, and then on to hail a cab into the city.

There was absolutely no point in hanging around Heathrow for any longer than necessary. He’d never been particularly taken with airports and today was definitely no exception. As much as he’d have loved to have dawdled and taken his time over his return, he had a life to be getting on with, a life he hadn’t had for quite a few years.

Now, where exactly was he supposed start?

*

There had been a time when he was quite content to stare at these same four walls. It had been an awful long time since he’d had to though, and now the thought wasn’t as appealing. He didn’t belong here; this was not his home anymore, and he could feel it everywhere he went. But right now he had no other choice. He stayed here or ended up homeless. When faced with a decision like that, it was pretty obvious which to choose.

‘Ben?’

It was Jack. He peered apprehensively around the door and held out a hand, a mug of coffee clutched tightly in it.

‘Can I come in?’

Ben perked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to laugh at his younger brother’s behaviour, and then merely shrugged a shoulder in response. ‘You look like you’re already in to me, Jack,’ he commented, chuckling as he moved to pull his suitcase toward him.

Oh boy, living out of a suitcase, he’d not done this one in a while. Four hours in and the shirt he’d placed so carefully on top earlier that day now resembled nothing but a chewed bit of string. So... it was going well then.

‘Mum said she’d prefer it if you weren’t here tonight,’ said Jack, handing over the coffee once he’d crossed the room.

Ben laughed and shook his head. Suddenly it made sense; the hot drink was a peace offering from his mother. Now that he’d flown the nest, she’d always been determined (overly so) not to do a single thing for him, for either of them actually – although Jack seemed to be getting off scot-free at the moment.

Looking back up at his brother briefly as he laid his crumpled shirt out across the back of the couch in the hope to salvage it somewhat, Ben got straight to the point. ‘Why exactly doesn’t she want me here tonight?’ he asked softly. Whatever the case may be, it wouldn’t be Jack’s fault, they’d always been close. ‘What’s she got going on that I’m not allowed to know about?’

‘It’s not that you’re not supposed to know about it,’ argued Jack, who had clearly been sent out to test the waters. ‘Kayla and her parents are coming for dinner; so it would probably be easier if you weren’t around.’

This made no sense, but it wasn’t worth arguing over.

‘Fine,’ Ben responded. ‘Consider me already gone.’

‘You know, I don’t mind if you’re here, it would be fine by me, it’s just--'

‘It’s Mum, I know.’ Glancing back to Jack, Ben smiled, letting him know that he really did understand and he wouldn’t hold it against the younger man. ‘She has control issues. She’s had control issues for the last two years and she’s going to drive us all to distraction, but apparently she’s yet to realise that herself. She’s yet to realise a lot, truth be told, but whatever.’ He laughed. ‘Psychologist my ass.’

Jack looked taken aback, but nodded all the same, a nervous laugh escaping him. ‘Something like that,’ he responded.

Setting aside his unpacking for the time being, Ben took a seat on the couch instead and beckoned Jack over, insisting he sit beside him. ‘I’m not an idiot, Jack, I know she doesn’t want me here at all,’ he said. ‘But I don’t have any other choice at the moment. It was this or a cardboard box on Oxford Street.’

‘Bollocks was it!’ Jack laughed.

‘OK, slight exaggeration...’ said Ben, joining in with his brother’s laughter. ‘You know what I mean though. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so here I am, so she’s going to have to deal with it. For now at least.’

With a nod, this was apparently accepted and Jack moved back to his feet, making a swift exit. ‘See you in the morning then,’ he called back.

Watching his brother go, Ben sighed softly before he let his gaze drop down to the carpet. This was not going to end well at all; he could feel it in his bones. He’d always got on perfectly well with his parents, but his sudden invasion of the family home had come as a shock and it wasn’t sitting particularly well with anyone (aside from Jack anyway).

It had been almost seven years since he had officially moved out and two years after that, his mother had cleared out his room and turned it into her own private library, making it pretty clear she didn’t want him coming back anytime soon – if at all.

Last night, not five minutes before midnight, Ben had found himself on the phone to the very same woman pleading that she let him stay.

At eleven thirty he’d found himself locking antlers with his landlord, Mick, as the older man informed him that Ben’s last three cheque’s had done nothing but bounce all the way to the rubbish dump. He had no money, something his bank manager told him quite bluntly ten minutes later. In fact, no, that wasn’t right, he didn’t have any money and his bank account was in fact several thousand pounds into the red. Had been so for quite some time, too.

The first question to leave Ben’s lips was why had no one bothered to tell him any of this before? Maybe he could have done something about the whole fiasco if he’d had some kind of warning, but apparently no one had the common courtesy to let him know about anything anymore.

He ended up spending the night crashing on the floor of Jack’s flat before finally setting foot in the family home just after lunchtime with his tail between his legs.

The reception had been a little on the frosty side, but things could have undoubtedly been worse.

He was currently hauled up in the second reception room, the living room that was only ever used for Christmas and extra special occasions. The Christmas tree still remained, yet to be taken down from the recent festivities, and the small table tucked away in the corner of the room was laden with boxes of biscuits, chocolates and crackers. He had fond memories of this room, although at this moment in time, it merely felt cold... and unwelcoming. Nothing more and nothing less.

The sooner he could get out of there the better, although he didn’t doubt how difficult that may be considering the current circumstances.

What he really needed was for someone to offer him a way out.

And quick.

*

‘This is the place.’

Will followed the landlord in rather cautiously, a small frown working its way onto his features as the inside of the flat was finally unveiled to him. ‘It’s, umm--’ he started, but failed to finish the sentence, completely dumbfounded.

The place was a mess, ripped wallpaper and stained carpets, and not to mention the size of the room he was actually faced with. One room, singular, there didn’t appear to be anymore.

He took a deep breath, glancing to the landlord. ‘Is this it?’ he questioned, just wanting to clarify.

With a nod, the landlord pushed past him and into the flat, opening a door at the far end. ‘Bathroom,’ he said. ‘And that’s your lot, mate.’ He shrugged, closed the door again, barely giving Will two seconds to see how that faired. From the landlord’s attitude, he presumed worse than the room he was currently looking at and probably infested with a fair few cockroaches to boot.

Swallowing down his pride, Will stepped a little further into the property and began to examine the kitchen. At least that very, very small corner of what could soon become his living quarters wasn’t too bad.

And considering his budget, it was either this or... well, nothing at all.

‘I’ll take it.’ He turned back to face the landlord suddenly, holding out his hand. The man before him looked as shocked as Will felt. ‘When can I move in?’

‘As soon as you like,’ came the easy response. ‘You can call me Mick, by the way. I’ll fetch the papers.’

An hour later and Will was letting himself back into the flat, pulling his two suitcases behind him. At least his hope to find somewhere to live before the day was out hadn’t been completely fruitless. Now, of course, he needed to figure out what on earth to do to the place to make it habitable. He guessed this was where the fun began.

Armed with bug spray and a swatter, he decided to tackle the bathroom first and, just as he feared, it was ten times worse than the rest of the flat. He took several tentative steps inside, spray held high and fixed the cockroach closest to him (who was currently residing in the shower tray) with a defiant stare. ‘All right,’ he said, perking an eyebrow. ‘It’s you or me buddy, and let me tell you, I’m not going anywhere. So... you get the picture, don’t you?’

He flashed the small bug in front of him an overzealous smile, and then without further warning went in for the kill.

Good way to spend your first week back in the UK that was for sure... sarcasm very much intended.

Writer's Block: Children of the sun

cloudysky — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 12:07:20 GMT

I'm not answering this, I just wanted to ask, what the hell is a bundt cake?!

Fic: RPF: The truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks on your mind (2/3).

cloudysky — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 23:49:52 GMT

Title: The truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks with your mind (2/3).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/Georgie Henley.
Rating: PG-13 (R overall).
Warnings: Real person het.
Word count: 6,083.
Summary: Ben hasn’t seen Georgie for a few years, so it’s a pleasant surprise when he bumps into her at a party. What he doesn’t expect, however, is to end up giving a helping hand with her love life. He takes it in his stride though and does what he can, something he soon comes to regret when he begins to see her in a different light himself.
A/N: Sorry, this part seemed to take me forever to finish – I blame Christmas for it entirely, this last week or so has been particularly hellish (aside from seeing Dawn Treader twice anyway).
Previous parts: Part one.

The truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks on your mind.

2.

‘Are you ready?’

‘I’ve been ready for the last ten minutes.’ Ben chuckled, pushing himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against and shooting the sales assistant a look. She merely smiled in return before turning away again pretty sharpish. He decided not to ask. ‘Come on, Georgie-porgy. We’re ready for the big reveal, stop dragging it out.’

There was a soft grunt of annoyance, and then Georgie drew the curtain back with such force that she almost pulled it from the rail. ‘Don’t call me that!’ she growled, although her tone was playful.

Taking a step back, laughing, he held his hands up in defence, his apology written all over his face. He didn’t notice her outfit to begin with, too worried about having upset her, but then his gaze slid slowly down her body and a smile crept onto his lips. He said nothing, simply stood and stared, drinking her in. If this didn’t make Harry stand up and take notice, he didn’t know what would.

‘Well?’ she demanded, hands going to her hips and an eyebrow lifting a little.

Ben nodded his approval, feeling that today he could say exactly what he was thinking. ‘Anyone would have a hard time saying no to you now,’ he admitted softly.

And it was true. Dressed in black, legs on show and teetering on stiletto heels; she looked gorgeous.

Georgie’s eyes appeared to light up at his response, and then she grinned, looking down at herself. ‘Awesome,’ she said. ‘So now we need to find you something to wear. I mean, if you’re going to be my date, you have to look good, too.’

‘I have to look good?’ He chuckled, cocked an eyebrow in her direction. ‘Is that all?’

With a shake of her head, she turned and disappeared back into the fitting rooms, calling out from behind the curtain a moment later, ‘What would you prefer? Pretty? Sexy? Shaggable?’

She said the last word with such conviction that it actually startled him and he glanced warily in the sales assistant’s direction. She was still trying her hardest to not look back and for that, he was thankful.

‘Sexy’ll do,’ he managed eventually, although his words caught in his throat a little.

When Georgie emerged again, dress and shoes in hand, she headed straight for him and hooked her arm through his. They walked back through into the department store and she led him towards menswear, murmuring something about tuxedos and how he’d always looked good in them. He had to agree, but he didn’t realise this Christmas party she was dragging him to was going to be quite that formal. Then again, who was he to argue? She was in charge of things today and he’d let her carry on regardless.

After much deliberation, Georgie picked out a black skinny suit for him, and a matching tie. The tux went by the wayside, but she did mention how she’d love to see him in one again sometime soon. He could do nothing but shrug in agreement, smile and tell her he’d see what he could do, which he would, without fail.

Clothes shopping soon turned into jewellery shopping and jewellery shopping into afternoon tea at The Ritz courtesy of Georgie (a thank you for the shopping trip). Come five o’ clock when they finally said their goodbyes, it seemed strange to be going their separate ways and, very briefly, Ben considered asking her to go for dinner to keep hold of her another hour or so. He thought better of it in the end though; he was supposed to be helping her with her boyfriend problems, not creating more of them. So he hugged her, promised to be on time the following day, and then watched her head off into the underground station.

He took the long way back to his flat; he needed to think.

-

Georgie was a mess, a complete and utter mess in fact, and even that was being light. She could feel tears threatening but she’d be damned if she would let them fall.

She’d been ready to leave for the party long before she needed to be, dress on, shoes clutched tightly in her hand and twiddling her thumbs as she loitered in her sister’s kitchen picking at all the goodies already in progress for Christmas. The mulled wine was out and shortly after being handed a glass, Rachael’s new puppy had run in, excitable and desperate to play. He’d circled Georgie’s legs several times and sent her flying. The glass of wine in her hand did much the same, its contents sloshing back all over her dress and into her freshly washed hair.

‘SAMMY!’

Her cry, she was pretty sure, could have been heard from the other end of the street.

Immediately Rachael came rushing in to see what all the commotion was about. She’d stopped dead the second she stepped over the threshold of the kitchen, hand flying up to her mouth in shock. ‘Oh God, Georgie, what happened?’ she asked, although the question was redundant, it was quite obvious what had happened.

Georgie bit back her tears once again and shook her head, placing her now empty glass down on the counter as red beads of liquid raced down her arm, weaving tracks in-between her fingers. She was covered in it.

‘It’s fine,’ Rachael gushed suddenly, pushing past her and grabbing for some kitchen roll. ‘We’ll fix you up no problem. Bit of soap and water and you’ll be as good as new.’ She approached, looking enthusiastic, but Georgie was already tearing the dress off, wanting nothing more to do with it. ‘George, stop it, we can sort this out!’

Shaking her head, the younger sister made her decision. ‘No, it’s no good,’ she murmured. ‘I need to find something else to wear...’

Shoving past Rachael, being careful not to slip on the now wet floor, Georgie raced back upstairs and flung open her wardrobe with vigour. Dress after dress stared back at her, each and everyone had been worn before; to premieres, parties, weddings. Anything that hadn’t was too small or too big, an item that Rachael had promised to alter for her when she had a spare five minutes or so.

Those five minutes had never come though, so Georgie was faced with a bit of a dilemma. She was supposed to be knocking Harry’s socks off tonight, that had been the whole point of it, but now she had no idea what to do.

Behind her, she heard footsteps, alerting her to Rachael’s presence as she joined Georgie in the bedroom. ‘Let me help, George,’ she said softly. ‘Please.’

Eventually, Georgie relented, handing over her ruined dress to her sister and plopping down on the end of her bed with a heavy sigh. Rachael smiled, putting her a little more at ease, but then the older sister grabbed a pair of scissors and said, ‘Right, let’s see what we can do!’ and Georgie really had no idea what to think anymore.

Placing her head in her hands, she kept her eyes trained on her sister, hoping to God that everything would be OK, just like she said.

Well, it could hardly get any worse, could it?

-

By the time Georgie made it to the party she was running just over half an hour late and things were already in full swing.

She made her way through the crowds, picking up a drink on her way, all the while searching for Ben. He should have been there by now; they were supposed to have met up fifteen minutes ago. There was no sign though and in the end, she caught sight of Harry first. She’d never moved so fast in her life as she did then, ducking behind an elderly couple and hiding her face behind her glass. Her boyfriend, and she was hiding from him, it was ridiculous really.

But her escape didn’t work out quite as planned, as the elderly gentleman she was now hiding behind turned around to her and asked if she was OK. She wasn’t, but she could hardly tell him that, so blurted out an apology and moved away again, wondering what to do next.

And that was when she spotted Ben, stood over by the window and chatting animatedly away to someone Georgie didn’t know. He saw her though; he saw her straight away and flashed a bright smile, quickly making his excuses with the lady he was in conversation with and heading over to her instead. Georgie was grateful for his loyalty and returned his smile with one of her own. It was almost infectious.

‘Everything all right? You look a bit... harassed?’ Ben said as he reached her, stifling a light laugh. He offered her his arm a moment later, which she took appreciatively.

‘Bad day,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders as she gazed up at him. ‘Better now though.’

His smile widened and she could predict what was coming next.

‘Better now I’m here, huh?’

Yep, that had been her first guess.

Georgie shook her head, biting back a gentle laugh; she didn’t want him to get his hopes up too much. ‘Something like that,’ she said, teasing. ‘You, or--' she paused, dragging it out, and then pointed out someone stood on the other side of the room. ‘Or him maybe!’

‘Hmm,’ Ben mused, clearly holding back his amusement. ‘I can see he’s just your type, George; balding, overweight, and with a nice thirty year age gap, too. Perfect, really.’

Her suddenly explosion of laughter shocked them both, causing several people to turn around and look at them, and as she hid her face away against the shoulder of his jacket, body wracked with mirth, she murmured, ‘Stop it, he’ll hear you!’

Shaking his head, Ben turned her around to face the window, their backs to the room. ‘He’ll hear me? You can talk,’ he responded, mouth curling up into a bright smile. ‘Don’t worry; he’s probably deaf, too – absolutely nothing to lose sleep over there.’ He was looking at her now; she could feel his eyes on her. She hated when he did that without warning, she always felt she needed to prepare herself for when Ben stared. ‘What happened to the dress I helped you pick out?’ he asked.

‘Believe it or not, this is it. I had a bit of a disaster with a puppy and a glass of wine.’ His only response was to perk an eyebrow and she laughed, adding, ‘I know. Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?’

‘Not ridiculous, it sounds like you,’ said Ben.

Amazingly though, Rachael had done a pretty good job with the dress. She’d cut a few pieces off here and there, roughed it up a bit, and then sewn all those pieces she’d cut off back on again. It sounded bad when you said it, but the finished result was something Rachael could have easily walked down the catwalk during London Fashion Week (and Georgie didn’t hate it, which was always a plus).

Smiling at Ben’s comment, Georgie snuggled into him a little more and glanced up at his face. He wasn’t looking at her anymore; he was too busy gazing out of the window, chewing idly on his bottom lip. She always found it unnerving when he went quiet, Ben was known for talking too much most of the time, just as she was. They were very similar in that sense, didn’t know when to shut up, which usually led to trouble (for her at least).

‘What you thinking about?’ She tugged on his sleeve, knocking him from his thoughts quite abruptly. ‘We’re meant to be making Harry jealous not gazing out of the window all wistfully,’ she laughed, making sure to accentuate the last word.

‘I wasn’t...’ he argued softly.

Nudging him, she couldn’t help but grin, and said, ‘You so were.’

This time it was Ben’s turn to laugh and he spun to face her quickly, catching hold of her hand and pulling her a little nearer. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s dance.’

She wouldn’t lie, his sudden enthusiasm took her by surprise, but she let him lead the way to the centre of the room where several other people were dancing. He drew her in close to him when he found them an empty spot amongst the chaos, his hand still gripping hers, fingers laced together. A moment later his other hand came to rest at the base of her back, and he smiled down at her, lazy, adoring, everything that his smile could be.

Georgie took a deep breath, her eyes falling closed as the hand he had placed at her back shifted a little lower, almost instinctively. The way he touched her these days, since meeting up again, was different to how it had been before. He was less cautious toward her, less brotherly and more – well, she didn’t know quite how to describe it. She was enjoying every second of it though, there would be no denying.

‘Where is he, then?’ Ben had ducked his head down to whisper in her ear. ‘If we’re going to make him jealous, we need to make sure he can see us.’

That was the moment her enjoyment was lost and she remembered it was all an act. She looked up and met his gaze, disappointed now, and then told him what he wanted to know.

Ben loosed her again; let her go so suddenly that she almost moaned out at the loss of contact. She could feel her skin burning where he’d touched, her heart hammering hard in her chest.

He didn’t notice her discomfort though, hand still entwined with hers as he tugged her into a more visible position. There he took her into his arms once more, closer this time, cheek to cheek, breath hot against her ear. If she didn’t know and hadn’t already told herself time and time again that he was pretending, she could have easily been misled. She could have easily thought a lot of things, felt a lot of things, but she had to tell herself no.

Clearing her throat, Georgie forced herself to find her voice and murmured, ‘Is he looking?’

‘Yeah.’ The reply was short, and to the point, there was no need to say anymore. ‘Stop talking.’

So she did as Ben asked and kept her eyes tight shut, swaying with him in time to the music, letting the rhythm take her. She couldn’t risk looking at him; she was scared that if she did, she’d give the game away and he’d cotton onto the fact her thoughts about him right now weren’t exactly as they should be.

It was strange though. Everything was strange.

A week ago, Ben hadn’t crossed her mind for months, but now here he was being such a prominent feature in her life once again. Seeing him at the party had been a shock, a pleasant one though. Calling him later that night had been completely unplanned, but following a rough couple of hours she’d realised seeing him would make her feel better, and it did, just not in quite the way she’d imagined it would. Not that she could complain of course, his concern had been very welcome.

Now she didn’t know what to think. She had a boyfriend, they were plotting to make her boyfriend jealous and yet, she didn’t seem to care one bit what happened in the end. She found herself craving the attention that only Ben could give – those knowing stares and warm, tender smiles.

Cuddling in closer to him as they danced, Georgie felt Ben’s hand shift at her waist, his fingers brushing against what little exposed skin she had. God, she could get used to this, she could get so used to this.

‘He’s coming over.’ She felt Ben exhale softly before she heard the words, and ignoring them, clung onto him tighter still. She couldn’t find the energy to care. ‘Georgie,’ he added, her name nothing more than a gentle murmur as he prompted her.

‘What...?’ she asked, head falling onto his shoulder, the words barely registering. ‘I don’t care, let him come.’

Ben smiled and brought a hand to her face, brushing a stray curl of hair from her eyes. ‘We’re not fighting battles now, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘You’re going to have to move I’m afraid.’

Shaking her head, she decided just this once she wouldn’t listen and kept on clinging to him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket tightly and eyes fluttering closed again. ‘If we’re really trying to make him jealous,’ she murmured, catching Ben’s attention, ‘don’t let me go. Pretend you haven’t seen him.’

Georgie thought he’d tell her no, but he didn’t and his hand slid around to the back of her neck, cradling her head as he tangled his fingers into her hair. ‘Well, if that’s what you want,’ he responded.

Their sudden closeness had the desired effect, as a moment later Harry came marching over, demanding (quite pathetically really), ‘Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Ben’s reaction was priceless. He pulled away, briefly, feigning shock at seeing Harry, and then instead of letting Georgie go so that she could join her boyfriend, drew her in closer. ‘I’m spending some time with my friend, what do you think I’m doing?’ he responded.

Harry bristled, his jaw clenching. ‘Looks like you’re--’

He was given no time to finish his sentence though and Ben cut across him, figuring out exactly what the younger man was going to say. ‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘But you should be more careful, leaving her on her own like that – there are an awful lot of guys who would kill to be in your position. She’s gorgeous and you’re being an idiot.’

The younger man said nothing this time, mouth agape.

‘Now, seeing as you’re obviously incapable, I’ll look after her tonight.’ Ben perked an eyebrow; he was being cocky on purpose now. ‘You can see her tomorrow.’

‘Ben...’ With a soft laugh, Georgie detached herself from Ben’s side and reached out for Harry’s hand instead. She didn’t particularly want to, but there was no point in making matters any worse. ‘As much as I appreciate it, you’re not my dad and I decide when Harry gets to see me.’

She laced her fingers with Harry’s, falling silent as she let him lead her away from Ben and towards the bar. It didn’t feel the same, not at all, his hand didn’t fit right and he held on too tight. She carried on though, sneaking glances over her shoulder as they walked through the crowds. She couldn’t be sure, but the final time she looked back at Ben, his face fell, the facade he’d worked so hard to keep up, melting away.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one feeling something she shouldn’t have been after all.

-

It had been over a week since the Christmas party Ben attended with Georgie and they’d been in touch no more than twice. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what. So when she’d rung to ask him to accompany her Christmas shopping in London that afternoon, he jumped at the chance.

And it was fine, it was all fine. They walked the length and breadth of Oxford Street several times, darted in and out of shops along Regent Street, even took a stroll into Soho, and Georgie laughed and joked with him the whole time, her arm linked through his. When the snow began to fall, her enthusiasm only grew and by the time they reached the underground station she was very nearly skipping along.

Ben laughed, letting her do as she wished, merely following along behind and playing the bag carrier.

‘Walk me home?’ She turned to him as she reached the barriers, holding out her hands to take her shopping from him, a coy smile on her face. ‘Please?’

Arguing with her was out of the question, so he returned the smile, kept hold of the bags and followed her through and down the escalators to the platform. They weren’t there long before the train came, the wind whipping their hair up as it came to a stop and Georgie was smiling again, grinning infectiously in his direction.

By the time they stepped out of Notting Hill Gate station, the snow was lying quite thick on the ground, something Ben hadn’t exactly been prepared for, and neither had Georgie. It was nice though, the way the roads now lay beneath a dusting of icing sugar white, the way children were running back and forth like this was something new. But it was almost Christmas and snow at Christmas excited even the oldest of children – most of the time anyway.

Georgie, of course, was all smiles the second they were out in the cold, very much proving his point. She raced off before he had time to grab her, sidestepping Christmas shoppers and swiping her hand across the nearest wall, gathering the snow together. He couldn’t stop her, couldn’t escape, as much as he tried and several moments later he found himself with a face full of it, her laughter ringing in his ears. It didn’t take him long to exact his revenge though and shortly afterwards he was throwing himself towards her, smashing snow down playfully upon her head. She screamed, although she was still laughing, and then ran off again seconds later, making her escape.

This went on for quite some time, as they ducked, dived and weaved their way through the streets of Notting Hill, receiving a ridiculous amount of dirty looks for their effort.

But they didn’t care. Why should they have cared?

At one point Ben ran straight into a young couple, sending their shopping bags flying. He hesitated, helped them, but he couldn’t stop his laughter and he was pretty sure the moment he raced off and left them alone again, his name was undoubtedly mud.

Georgie currently lived with her sister in a maisonette in the middle of Notting Hill. She lived in what a lot of people would have considered the idealistic setting, surrounded by lush, green parks and chocolate box houses, with old stone walls and wrought iron gates. Her sister’s house was decked out ready for Christmas, with a wreath of green, red and gold on the door, soft, white glowing fairy lights in every window and the traditional Christmas tree standing proud out in front. It was perfect, everything a romcom fan dreamed of, like a picture taken straight from a movie.

When they finally reached the house, Ben came to an abrupt stop, drinking in the scene before him as Georgie trawled through her bag in search of her keys.

‘They’re here somewhere,’ she was saying, crouched down on the ground as she began to empty the contents out all over the pavement. Make-up, loose change, two mobile phones and a packet of chewing gum went skittering across the ice. ‘I definitely had them when I left. I’m sure I did.’

Turning his attention back to Georgie, Ben joined her on the floor to help her look. It took him no longer than thirty seconds to find them, holding the bunch of keys up triumphantly once he’d discovered them hidden away in her coat pocket. She looked embarrassed as she collected everything together once again, which was unlike her, and idly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘OK, yeah, I’m an idiot... you can say it,’ she murmured.

He, however, said no such thing, handing over a tube of lip-gloss instead, and then helping her up from the snowy ground. ‘Come on,’ he said gently. ‘You know you’re anything but.’

She smiled when they came face-to-face, barely being able to disguise the flush of pink now adorning her cheeks beneath her sparkly beret. Whether it was embarrassment or the cold, he didn’t know, but it only made her look more beautiful to him.

A moment later she began her ascent up the steps leading to her sister’s house, but Ben was quick to follow, catching hold of her hand just as she reached the top and turning her back around to face him. ‘Do I get a hug or are you just going to leave me standing here?’ he asked with a soft laugh, perking an eyebrow at her playfully.

Her smile brightened and she shook her head, throwing her arms around his neck without warning and pulling him in close. He returned the hug easily, hands sliding across her back and pressing her body up against his. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered into his ear, ‘didn’t think. I told you I was an idiot, didn’t I?’

‘You’re not an idiot,’ he responded gently, planting a kiss to her cheek before loosening his hold on her again.

‘Yeah, OK, thanks...’ Georgie chuckled, ducking her head down before she pulled away from him. Her gaze lifted to his, staying there briefly, and then she took a step back toward the door, getting her keys ready as she added, ‘I’ll see you soon, Ben,’ and turned to head inside.

The second her back was turned, Ben felt the loss of her smile immediately, and before he even realised what he was doing, reached out to touch her arm gently. She turned, quickly, her eyes alight, and he closed the gap between them, swallowing down his pride as he brought his hand up to cup her face and pressed his lips to hers.

Her eyes went wide, he wondered what the hell he was even doing, but it took no longer than a second before she was kissing him back, desperately.

Ben allowed himself to relax into it then, his fingers moving lightly against her cheek, caressing, as his lips parted on a natural breath and the kiss grew deeper. He knew he shouldn’t have been doing this, not really; she was Georgie and she had a boyfriend, but he’d be damned if he was going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

Georgie’s arms were soon looped around his neck and he brought his hands to her hips, bringing her body in that little bit closer, revelling in her warmth pressed up against him.

When he finally broke away from her, short of breath and panting slightly, he laid his forehead against hers, a lazy smile crossing his face. He didn’t speak; there was nothing to say, he simply let the silence wash over them for a while, enjoying.

Georgie however, had other ideas, lacing her fingers through his as she asked, ‘Do you want to come inside?’

He hesitated, suddenly looking anywhere but at her, as the implications of that question sunk in. ‘Inside...?’ he queried, an eyebrow lifting slightly.

‘To talk, or...’ Pointing idly over her shoulder, she began to move backwards again, jangling the keys in her hand. He couldn’t move, he really couldn’t, her unfinished sentence was hanging in the air and even though she was tugging encouragingly on his hand, his feet were failing him. ‘I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I thought--’

This time she cut herself off, but he didn’t allow the silence to last too long, joining her on the doorstep and smiling apprehensively. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk.’

They didn’t exactly talk.

In fact, they didn’t talk at all and as soon as they had fallen through the door, Georgie’s lips were on his again and she was pulling, yanking, tugging and dragging him towards her bedroom. He let her, moving blindly and tripping over various obstacles hidden the darkness on his way. When he fell over the Hoover lying in the middle of the landing, he gave it up as a bad job, breaking away from the kiss with a laugh and reaching for her hand, letting her lead him the rest of the way.

Georgie, apparently no longer being coy at all, slammed the door and pushed him down onto the bed the second they reached her room, straddling him at the hips.

He was a little thrown by the whole thing, if he were to be honest, but leant up all the same and slid a hand around to the back of her neck as he kissed her again, pulling her down on top of him. She fell, obliging, landing with a soft and playful ‘oof’ and laying her hands against his chest. Georgie, both hungry and inquisitive, was quick to deepen their kiss and parted her lips, letting her tongue slide over his lips to hesitantly explore his mouth.

It didn’t take long for Ben to retaliate with the same vigour, losing himself in her and losing track of the time as he did so. Rolling them over, lips not daring to leave hers, he brought his hands up on either side of her head, pinning her there. He could get used to this, not the voice in the back of his mind telling him to stop, but the feel of his hand sliding over her leg, the way the fabric of her skirt brushed against his skin and the warmth of her body pressed to his, he couldn’t get enough of that.

Georgie was the first to pull away, short of breath as she wriggled her way across the bed and out of his reach. ‘Let me just--’ she started, her cheeks flushing with pink. ‘Let me change. I want to change.’ She smiled, bright and infectious, and then jumped up and raced out of the room, leaving him lying there in the middle of the bed, hot, bothered and with no clue what was going on.

For several moments, he didn’t move, but then he clapped eyes on a pin board over on the other side of the room and got slowly back to his feet. He walked over, casually, shrugging off his jacket and straightening out his shirt as he did so. Once he’d draped his jacket over a nearby chair, he took the final step, his mouth curling up into a smile. The pin board was full of photographs, nothing more, both new and old, of people he knew and people he didn’t. He edged closer, noticing a picture of Georgie with her fellow onscreen siblings back when they’d been filming the first Narnia film. They all looked so, so young then. But they had been and Georgie had practically been a baby when she came into the franchise, unlike him.

Ben tilted his head slightly, his fingertips brushing nonchalantly against her face in the photograph before he moved onto the next. Georgie and Harry wrapped around each other on a beach somewhere. She was grinning, wildly, holding onto him so tightly, with her face buried against his shoulder. Harry, on the other hand, seemed more interested in something going on somewhere out of shot than the girl who was so obviously in love with him.

That kid didn’t know what he was missing, he really didn’t.

Turning from the pin board, chewing idly on his thumbnail as he looked around the room, Ben sighed softly and brought a hand up to rub his forehead.

Georgie’s room, on first glance, was the same as any young girl’s room, full of photos of friends and family, with fairy lights wrapped around the headboard and a floaty dress hung up on the wardrobe door. Pink, flowery, generally pretty as any room could be. He recognised the dress immediately as the one she’d worn the night he’d met up with her again – it was as stunning as he remembered it being. Very briefly, he touched the fabric, but then withdrew his hand almost immediately as the sound of Georgie’s phone ringing on the other side of the room caught his attention.

He span, gaze darting around as he looked for any sign of it. But he didn’t manage to lay his hands on it until it had stopped ringing again and the screen greeted him with three words. One missed call. Harry. There was a single love heart in front of his name, obviously saved into her phonebook that way so he always came up first. She acted like such a lovesick teenager sometimes, she really did. But then again, she still was a teenager, she was only eighteen and... sometimes he forgot. Should he have been forgetting that? Was pretending that blatantly obvious age gap between the pair of them didn’t exist really the best thing for them? And was that teddy bear staring at him?

Sighing softly, he reached out, untucking the sandy coloured bear from beneath the duvet cover where it had been hiding. It looked to be a good few years old, with threadbare paws and ears, well loved. He smiled, turning it over in his hands before placing it back, face down this time. The last thing he needed was to be judged by the black and beady gaze of a stuffed bear.

Everything was so incredibly fucked up. Ridiculously so and it was all his fault.

‘What am I even doing here?’ he murmured, mostly to himself, but he could hear movement outside the door so it wasn’t entirely improbable that Georgie could have heard him. ‘This is ridiculous...’

Ben glanced over his shoulder briefly for any of sign of her and when he came up with nothing, reached for his jacket once more. Just as he was slipping it back on and making sure he had everything, Georgie appeared in the doorway. She was smiling happily, beaming away, in her comfy clothes now, with several DVD’s in one hand and a bag of Doritos in the other.

Even though her state implied nothing else would be going on tonight, he knew he couldn’t hang around; too much was wrong with the whole situation. And, truthfully, he didn’t know how much will power he had around Georgie anymore.

‘I have to go,’ he announced, keeping his tone even, impartial.

She perked an eyebrow, stepping around him and hopping back up onto the bed. Once she’d put everything down, she glanced back up at him, her eyes wide and questioning. ‘Why?’ she asked.

Ben looked at her agog, which was ridiculous seeing as how simple the question had been. ‘Well...’ he began, although he faltered there and she shot him a knowing look. ‘Georgie, please don’t make this any harder than it already is. I can’t stay here tonight.’

‘I don’t want you to go,’ she said, ignoring him and tearing open the bag of chips.

At that, he sighed, feeling himself relenting, but he needed to stay strong – if only for his own sanity. ‘And I don’t want to go, not really, but this – us – was not part of the plan. It wasn’t part of any plan, ever, and it shouldn’t be happening.’

This time she fell still, tilting her head slightly as she murmured, ‘I don’t understand, Ben...’

He shook his head, frustrated now and he didn’t even know why. ‘You wouldn’t,’ he said, a sudden edge to his words that wasn’t there before. He wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying as he pulled the door back open to leave. ‘You’re just a child, I don’t expect you to.’

The second he realised the words that had slipped from his lips, he regretted them. The look on Georgie’s face was enough to break his heart and he felt his resolve slipping. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that he didn’t mean it and he loved her, but he could tell it was already too late for that.

Sure enough, a moment later she was up off the bed, shoving him out of the way and gesturing to the hallway as she said, ‘Just go then.’

Ben watched, suddenly helpless, his guilt beyond words.

‘Georgie, I didn’t mean--’

‘LEAVE ME ALONE!’

This time he took the hint, her shout ringing out, and he nodded, sidestepping around her and making his way back to the front door. He left without another word, without another glance in her direction. She wouldn’t speak to him now; there was no point.

So he stepped back out into the snow, shut out in the cold with no idea what he was supposed to do, or say, to make it right again.

Fic: RPF: The truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks on your mind (1/3).

cloudysky — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 21:12:27 GMT

Title: The truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks with your mind (1/3).
Author: cloudysky.
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia.
Pairing: Ben Barnes/Georgie Henley.
Rating: PG (R overall).
Warnings: Real person fic.
Word count: 3,146.
Summary: Ben hasn’t seen Georgie for a few years, so it’s a pleasant surprise when he bumps into her at a party. What he didn’t expect, however, was to end up giving a helping hand with her love life. He takes it in his stride though and does what he can, something he soon comes to regret when he begins to see her in a different light himself.
A/N: Title is taken from Flowerbed by Take That. Georgie’s boyfriend in this is played by Harry from One Direction (I don’t know, don’t ask me to explain!). Unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine.

The truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks on your mind.

1.

He never expected to see her there. He never expected to see anyone there, not really, but she made such a grand entrance that it was impossible to ignore. Her smile was as dazzling as he remembered. Sweeping down the staircase, her gown a river of silk behind her, she made a beeline for a group of young up and coming actors who were milling around by the bar. She didn’t notice him. Not yet at least.

Lingering over by the buffet table, alone, Ben found the awkwardness he had felt in even being there beginning to grow. It had been a last minute decision to come tonight yet, when he’d set foot in the ballroom the party was being held, he’d hoped to be embraced by everyone, expected to be the life and soul. So far though, not one solitary person had approached him.

No, no one was interested anymore – no one but her, at least.

From across the room, she was looking now. Deep in conversation with someone else, laughing and gesturing emphatically over something or other, but still looking at him and not at them.

He felt a slight shiver run through him and let his gaze drop down to the glass in his hand. He shouldn’t have been looking back, shouldn’t be allowing himself to indulge in the fact she was a grown woman now with all the curves in the right places and a smile that did things to him he couldn’t possibly share (at least, not while he was sober). In his head she would always be thirteen – innocent, over excitable with a childlike wonder and much too young for such thoughts to even be legal.

Sipping from his glass, the champagne bubbles tickling his nose, Ben risked one final glance in her direction, telling himself this would be the last until he went over to her and said hello. She caught him though, caught him red handed, the beginnings of a mischievous smirk curving onto her lips.

She was straight over, bounding across the dance floor with the widest smile he’d ever seen and enveloping him in a rib crushing hug that knocked the air straight from his lungs.

It was unexpected. Very. He’d expected her to say hi, maybe, but not this.

‘It’s so good to see you, Ben,’ she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.

All grown up or not, Georgie was very much the same person she’d always been, full of the joys of life and enjoying every second. Still not tall enough though. She was up on her tiptoes to reach, despite her high heels giving her an advantage, her body pressed so close to his that he could feel her heart beating through the thin fabric of his shirt. He melted against her, the attention just what he needed, and pulled her in closer still, his hands sliding easily over her back and the bare skin there.

‘I missed you,’ she said, nuzzling his neck now as her fingers curled into his hair. ‘Don’t you ever go that long without ringing me again, you hear?’

This time, Ben laughed and took her face into his hands, forcing her to take a step away from him. ‘I didn’t realise I was in such demand,’ he responded, his mouth curling up into a smile that could rival her own and then some. ‘You look...’ He stopped, faltered, unsure what to say now the moment had come. ‘You look nice.’

‘Nice? I look nice?’ cried Georgie, her eyes wide with amusement. She quickly extracted herself from his hold, ducking under his arm and twirling on the spot, hair and dress flying as she showed off her outfit. ‘Now, how do I really look?’

OK, so, she looked more than nice, but what did she honestly expect him to say?

‘Great,’ he said finally, regretting it almost instantaneously as she pulled a face at him. ‘No, not great, that was rubbish. Really nice maybe?’

Georgie laughed and shook her head, sending her hair flying again, the frenzy of dark curls quite mesmerising. ‘You’re such a dork,’ she chuckled, reaching out to hook her arm through his. A moment later, she leant in and rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. ‘Have you always been this bad with women? I can’t remember. But, you know, if you need any tips, I’m always available to help out.’

She was baiting him now and he hated her for it.

‘I can manage, but thank you for the offer.’ Ben nudged her, a gentle jab in the ribs with his elbow as she guided him across the room and toward a small group of people he didn’t know. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked, perking an eyebrow.

‘I want you to meet someone,’ she said.

The moment they reached the group, it became clear exactly who Georgie wanted Ben to meet. A young man, around Georgie’s age or maybe a little older, stepped away from everyone else and literally dragged Georgie from Ben’s grasp. She cuddled up to him in much the same way she’d been cuddling Ben only moments before, an action that only aided in Ben’s sudden want to wring the scrawny little runt's neck for even touching her. He didn’t know where it came from, but he knew deep down that he didn’t like the thought of boys being all over her, whether she was eighteen or not.

‘This is Harry,’ Georgie was saying, her voice and high and ridiculously giggly, ‘My boyfriend.’

Ben stared, tilting his head slightly. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say.

It took no longer than two seconds for both Georgie and Harry to pick up on the sudden awkwardness and Harry, clearly wanting to seem like the bigger man (or something equally ridiculous), held out his hand and smiled broadly. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said.

Ben continued to stare for as long as he could get away with and then, relenting, took hold of the teenager’s hand, shaking once, twice and ending it there. He didn’t let it last long, didn’t want it to, so slipped his hands into his pockets instead and asked, ‘And how long have you been together?’ as if this were the most important question in the world. It wasn’t of course, it was completely unimportant and the very last thing he wanted to know if he were honest.

‘Couple of months, something like that,’ Harry answered, his tone nonchalant.

Ben resisted the urge to punch him in the nose for his blasé attitude and forced a feeble, ‘Great.’

Obviously catching onto something, although he hoped she didn’t guess exactly what, Georgie decided to try and play the mediator and interrupted. ‘It’s not serious...’ she said softly, reaching a hand out and laying it against Ben’s arm. She sounded sad, which he noticed straight away, but wouldn’t dare mention until he got her alone again (whenever that may be).

‘We’re keeping it casual for now, right, G?’ Harry flashed her a lopsided grin.

This, unfortunately, only succeeded in riling Ben up that little bit more and as he watched the young man in front of him, his eyes narrowed and his hands balled into fists in his pockets. Harry was too carefree about it all, serious or not. Georgie was Georgie and she deserved nothing but the best. Ben didn’t know exactly what it was, but he got the feeling Harry wasn’t particularly right for her. There was something in the way he held himself, something in the way he was trying to play the big man and--

No, wait, Ben recognised him now. They’d met before, be it briefly, at one of the premieres. Georgie had spent the entire after party gushing about him and how incredibly sweet he was – right up until Skandar had plied her with champagne anyway and she’d spent the rest of the night pirouetting in the middle of the dance floor (or trying to, at least).

Ben remembered it clearly, mostly because he’d been the one to catch her when she’d fallen over, and then helped her back to the hotel.

He guessed they must have stayed in touch since then and recently decided to give it a go – a move they probably could have done without. But they all had more time on their hands these days, so it wasn’t exactly surprising he supposed, that Georgie had gone out and got herself a boyfriend (even of the non serious variety).

Following their brief chat, Ben headed off to get more drink, feeling very much like he needed it. He stayed there, downing shots until he felt the haze beginning to set in.

From across the other side of the room, he could see the couple clinging onto each other, happily chatting away to people he didn’t know. Occasionally Harry would lean in and press a kiss to Georgie’s temple, a sign of affection that Ben had been quite fond of up until today. It was OK when he used to do it, there had been nothing behind it, but now it suddenly held so much more meaning and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

The rest of the party passed by slowly and Ben found himself becoming more and more paranoid (not that the drink helped him much). Eventually he had to force himself to leave, the only way he could put a stop to the ridiculous thoughts invading his mind, and so hopped a taxi home.

He collapsed straight onto his bed upon arriving, gaze fixed to the ceiling as he attempted to vanquish all thoughts of Georgie and her boyfriend. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind, couldn’t forget how she’d looked when she’d descended the staircase or how her warm body had felt when it was pressed up against his. She seemed to fit so perfectly against him now, like she’d grown into him and become exactly who he’d wanted her to become all along. He shouldn’t have even wanted that to happen, but he had done, for a couple of years, too.

It was around the same time she met Harry that Ben had begun to notice how his little Georgie was growing up. She could get away with high heels and long floaty dresses and she didn’t look like a young girl playing dress up in her mother’s wardrobe anymore. The lip-gloss and headbands were replaced with lipstick and mussed up curls and she looked beautiful, stunning even. She was fifteen though and despite her want for his attention, anyone’s attention, he’d had to tell himself no and continue to treat her like the little sister that he’d never had.

And now here she was, out there and dating, and Ben couldn’t stand the way that made him feel. It was wrong, immoral, but he wanted it – wanted her – so badly.

He dozed off with those thoughts in mind, thoughts that made for interesting dreams, dreams that were shattered when his mobile phone began to ring and jolted him awake again.

Rolling over sleepily, he reached blindly for his phone, snatching it up and answering without bothering to see who was on the other end of the line. He was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by Georgie’s dulcet tones and wondered for a moment whether he’d simply fallen back to sleep. He hadn’t, in his dreams he wouldn’t have been woken up at 3:42 a.m. That was all Georgie; typical couldn’t-care-less about the time and ring anyway Georgie.

‘The number you gave me, I wanted to check if it worked,’ she said.

He laughed, softly, weakly, closing his eyes again and murmuring, ‘It works...’

‘Good.’ A brief silence and he could hear her moving about, the rustling of fabric. ‘What are you up to?’ she asked a second later, a serious question.

Ben held back another laugh and told himself to respond truthfully. ‘Sleeping,’ he said. ‘Well, I was sleeping until you woke me up with this phone call at least.’

‘Oh... sorry, I guess I hoped you’d be awake still,’ she replied, the tone of her voice suddenly wavering. ‘Can I – can I come over there? Would you mind?’

This was very much out of the blue, but he didn’t have the heart to say no to her. Tonight was the first time they’d seen each other in two years and yet, somehow, it felt as though they hadn’t even been apart and Georgie was obviously feeling that way, too. Her wanting to come over to his flat though, was new. She’d never asked before because she’d always known in days gone by he would have said no to her, and she was right, he would have. He couldn’t have had her there; the temptation would have been too much for him.

Tonight, however, was different. Very different.

Letting his head loll over to the left, Ben checked the time once more (3:49 a.m. now), and then told her quietly, ‘I’d be happy to have you,’ before reeling off his address.

In the background, he heard her repeat every word he said. She was clearly already in a taxi and on her way there, which made him begin to wonder. Not three hours ago she’d been in the middle of a dance floor, spinning, twirling, laughing, and her smile so wide and happy it seemed it would be impossible to make it falter. Something must have happened for her sudden need to be with him.

Fifteen minutes later, Ben was padding his way down the stairs to let her inside. He hadn’t made any effort to dress, simply slipped on a pair of pyjama bottoms and left the welcome warmth of his flat as fast as his feet would carry him. Georgie was stood on the doorstep, dressed much the same in winter boots, pyjamas and a duffle coat buttoned right up to her chin. Her cheeks were rosy red beneath the biting chill of the wind, her eyes sparkling in the darkness.

‘Hi,’ she said, raising a hand in a half-hearted (and not to mention awkward) wave.

Ben didn’t move at first, but then realised he probably should, so reached out and pulled her into the hallway, closing the door behind her with a soft thud. They were silent at first, the only sound that of Georgie’s hard breathing and the traffic passing by outside.

‘Thank you... so much...’

The whisper was so soft that he barely heard it, but when it registered he let an easy smile cross his face and held out his hand to lead Georgie upstairs. She followed without hesitation and not ten minutes later they were both sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed nursing mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

Ben gave Georgie time to get comfortable before he asked the inevitable question, his voice gentle. ‘So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’

Unsurprisingly, she didn’t answer straight away and kept her gaze low, sipping nonchalantly from her mug. He wished he knew what was going on in her head, wished she’d let him in, if just for a moment. So, in absence of a reply, he put his drink down and reached out to hold her face in his hands instead, forcing her to look up at him.

‘Georgie,’ he said, ‘you know you can tell me anything.’

The young woman in front of him sighed, anxious beneath his stare, but she held firm. ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ she asked him.

‘Something wrong--?’ Ben didn’t understand the question, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he attempted to get his head around it. ‘What do you mean is something wrong with you?’

Georgie sighed again; frustrated that he didn’t understand her.

The second time around, his eyes asked the question and she answered it by turning her head suddenly, pressing a kiss to his palm when he didn’t move quickly enough. He hesitated, drew a breath in shakily and she took the opportunity to take hold of his hand instead, lacing her fingers through his. When she moved their hands down to her lap, her gaze following, he began to clock on.

‘Did Harry do something?’

She shook her head, very nearly laughed. ‘No,’ she said. ‘That’s the problem.’

Oh, now it really did make sense. Not that he liked the idea all that much.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you, Georgie,’ said Ben, keeping his tone light. He brushed the pad of his thumb against her jaw and she looked up, catching his gaze as her mouth curled up into a small, impish smile. ‘You know you’ve always been perfect to us--’ He hitched in a breath, adding softly, ‘To me.’

She took this in, nodded, and gave his hand a squeeze. ‘Thanks, but apparently I’m not perfect enough for some people...’

Raking his teeth over his lower lip, he watched her for a moment in silence, not quite believing these words were coming from Georgie Henley’s mouth. She’d always been so sure of herself when she was younger. If anything, she’d been the most outgoing of all of them, using her confidence to her advantage. But not now, this wasn’t the Georgie he used to know, this was someone else sat before him. Anxious and unsure, with teary eyes, he barely recognised her.

‘Well,’ he started, hand cupping her chin and drawing her gaze back to his once more. ‘You know what? Sod them. Sod all of them.’

She laughed at that, eyes lighting up, if only briefly.

‘I mean it,’ Ben added.

And he did.

‘OK.’ Smiling, Georgie let go of his hand and reached out, her fingers playing through his hair instead. ‘He is my boyfriend though, so I can’t exactly do that. I really like him, Ben, I really do.’

Ben nodded thoughtfully, calmly, as much as he couldn’t stand hearing what she was telling him. He picked his hot chocolate back up and stayed quiet. She was right, as usual. If she really did like this guy and he was (amazingly) being honourable, there would be no reason to cast him aside over something so trivial.

It took a while and several ideas were batted around, but discarded, until he came up with one that might solve the problem. Naturally he would need the Georgie seal of approval, although he felt pretty confident it was the only way – probably a bad way – but the only way all the same.

‘All right,’ Ben began, ready for the hard sell as he fixed her with a stare and a playful grin. ‘If he’s going to be that way, let’s show him what he’s missing, shall we?’

Georgie smiled, an almost wicked gleam in her eyes.

Yeah, this was definitely going to backfire.

Writer's Block: Boldly going

cloudysky — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 15:03:25 GMT

I think I'd have to say Narnia, and go against my obvious choice of Harry Potter. Why? Well, firstly I'd get to wear a pretty dress or two (I'm obsessed with Narnian clothes, seriously), and secondly, I'd get to talk to animals. Can't go wrong really. And who could honestly say no to meeting Aslan?

Fic: RPF: My Missing Puzzle Piece (Summer).

cloudysky — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 18:05:17 GMT

Title: My Missing Puzzle Piece (Summer).
Series: Seasons (1/4).
Author: cloudysky
Fandom: Doctor Who.
Pairing: Matt Smith/Karen Gillan.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: Real person fic, smut.
Word count: 3,259.
Summary: Karen gets caught in the rain, Matt lends her dry clothes, and an afternoon of script reading soon turns into something else entirely.
A/N: Very much inspired by the Katy Perry song Teenage Dream. If you haven’t heard it yet, do give it a listen, you won’t regret it.

My Missing Puzzle Piece (Summer)

‘Thanks for the jumper.’

Matt turns at the sound of Karen’s voice to find her stood in the doorway of the kitchen. She’s tugging anxiously at the hem of said jumper, which sits neatly about her thighs, and her skin is flushed with pink from the hot water of the shower. The jumper probably looks better on her than it does him, but that could only be because she’s so obviously naked beneath it and it’s falling off her shoulder haphazardly.

‘I don’t know why you didn’t wait in the cab until the rain stopped,’ he comments, returning his attention to the tea he was making and away from the tempting sight of his friend.

Behind him, he hears Karen huff, and then the sound of her bare feet against the tiles as she approaches. ‘I already told you, he wouldn’t wait,’ she says. ‘He had somewhere else to be or... something. I don’t know.’

He glances over his shoulder to find her now perched at the breakfast bar, arms folded atop the counter and the sleeves of the jumper pulled down over her hands. He smiles, picks up the mugs in front of him, and joins her, sitting opposite. ‘Didn’t he know who you were?’ he scoffs playfully, pushing one of the teas toward her.

‘Apparently not.’ Karen smiles and picks up her mug, taking a small sip from it. ‘I did ask.’

Laughing, Matt stretches his leg out and kicks her gently, murmuring, ‘You did not.’ She squeaks in surprise, but is quick to kick him back, abandoning her tea almost immediately.

‘Meanie,’ she mutters, and a moment later he finds her feet in his lap, safely out of the way now. ‘Give me a foot rub, please.’ She grins at him, in what he supposes is meant to be an alluring way, but it doesn’t have the desired effect.

Instead, he screws his nose up in response, an action he soon regrets it as he remembers how close her feet are to his crotch. One false move and he’s had it. He decides to play it safe and, alternatively, tickles her toes, toying with her. She wriggles a little in his grasp, but merely begins to giggle, her whole body wracked with mirth.

Eventually, clearly having had enough, Karen pulls away from his reach and hops back to her feet. She walks around to him and he gazes up at her as she approaches. When she reaches him, she holds her hand out, wiggling her fingers encouragingly, and smiles. ‘Will you dance with me?’ she asks.

Matt stays where he is at first, but when he realises she’s serious, grasps her hand without any further hesitation and joins her in the middle of the kitchen floor.

When Karen’s done fiddling with the radio to find something halfway decent to dance to (McFLY apparently), he pulls her close and spins them around on the spot. He’s always liked the way they’re almost the same height, so when they’re face-to-face he can look her right in the eye. He also knows that she has always found it unnerving, but that doesn’t stop him for a second, and he shoots a playful wink in her direction when she threatens to look away.

Her face lights up and she falls into laughter as he begins to bounce around the kitchen with her, still clinging on so tight. It isn’t long until he’s laughing as well, and reaches out to whack the volume up; violins filling the air as the song reaches its poetic crescendo.

He can’t think of a better way to spend a rainy summer afternoon actually.

Matt twirls her around one final time as the music slows, and then dips her playfully back, almost bumping heads with her in the process. She’s still laughing and he’s breathing hard, a bright, infectious smile on his face as he resists the urge to do the same. He doesn’t know what he did before he met her, she’s like his little ray of sunshine, and all the teasing aside, he really does love her to pieces.

‘Matt, stand me up, stand me up!’ she suddenly cries, still laughing, but it snaps him quickly out of his daze.

Unfortunately though, he swings her back up to standing so fast that his sock clad feet slip on the tiles and a second later they’re both on the floor in a heap of tangled limbs, Karen shrieking as she scrambles to save her dignity. He plays the gentleman and turns away, but just as he’s about to get back to his feet, she catches hold of his face in her hands and turns him back.

Matt opens his mouth to ask why, only to find himself silenced as Karen leans down toward him and smiles. He stares for a moment, but is quick to close the gap between them, sitting up and grasping fistfuls of her fiery hair as he brushes his nose against hers.

Her smile brightens and her eyes flutter closed, chest rising as she inhales deeply.

He watches in silence at first (he too can’t help but enjoy their close proximity), and then murmurs, ‘Sorry... clumsy, clumsy me.’

Karen grins and before he has time the time to say anything more, he finds her lips on his in the sweetest of kisses. It doesn’t last very long, several seconds at most, but it leaves him reeling and he’s soon smiling, too, desperate for more.

‘Do I look like I mind, Matt?’ she questions finally, lifting her eyebrows playfully.

Matt’s almost entirely sure the answer to that question is ‘no’, although, as she lifts her hands to run them through her hair and the jumper she’s wearing rides up even higher, he finds himself rather short on words (even syllables). Now there’s a sight he could gladly get used to seeing writhing about above him on a daily basis. She smiles, dropping her arms down again, the jumper slipping a little more, and he feels his stomach flip in anticipation. He won’t lie, the blood is pretty much all rushing to one place right now, and rather quickly at that.

‘No,’ he answers finally, voice thick. ‘Not in the slightest.’

Moments later he finds her lips on his again and he leans up to accept it, his hands sliding beneath the jumper she’s wearing to rest against her hips. He rubs his thumbs in small circular motions against her soft skin and receives a gentle moan of contentment for his efforts, her hips rocking suddenly into his – she isn’t resisting this one bit.

As Matt’s hands slide ever higher, his fingertips walking her spine and exploring every inch, Karen breaks the kiss and hitches in a sharp, short breath. ‘Do that again,’ she whispers.

He’s not entirely sure what he did, but lets his hands glide over her skin all the same, the very tips of his fingers ghosting over her ribcage. It’s then her breathing changes and she’s soon humming her approval, her teeth cutting gently into her bottom lip. Her head lolls forward, hair spilling over her shoulders in untamed waves and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so beautiful.

‘Just...’ Matt finds Karen’s hands covering his seconds later and she effortlessly guides them lower, skin to skin as he follows her lead and strokes lightly over her tummy. ‘Hmmm, right there,’ she adds, and the smile she has on her face now could light up any room.

Inhaling deeply, he moves to prop himself up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to caress her thighs as he shifts position. She sighs, breathy and contented, nonchalant about the change. ‘This would be better if we got off the floor, Kaz,’ he suggests gently.

Karen seems to agree and moves off him in seconds, rising back to standing. She stares down at him, apparently sizing him up, and then whirls around without warning and dashes off.

Scrambling back to his feet as fast as he can, given the situation, Matt tears off after her, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he goes and slinging it back over his shoulder. He collars her in the doorway of his bedroom, running straight into her as she comes to a sudden halt. He smiles, trapping her there as he pushes her gently against the door and leans in to kiss her, a kiss that she chooses to dodge.

They play fight their way to the bed then, falling onto the pillows several moments later, both laughing breathlessly.

Matt crawls over Karen shortly afterwards, his hands resting either side of her head, fingers tangling into her auburn locks. ‘You’re a force to be reckoned with, Karen Gillan,’ he says, ducking his head down to nuzzle her neck, quickly drowning in the scent of her.

‘You wouldn’t have me any other way, you know that...’ she whispers, her tone light.

And she’s right, he wouldn’t, but he doesn’t need to say so for them both to know it’s true.

As Karen reaches her hands up toward his face, taking advantage of his silence, Matt catches hold of one and presses a soft kiss to her palm, inhaling deeply as he does so.

She giggles, rolling her eyes. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to seduce me, Matthew,’ she teases and snatches her hand away again. He’s quite happy to let her, and when she reaches back out to him, he lets his eyes fall closed, enjoying the feel of her fingers running slowly through his hair.

‘Seduce you?’ He chuckles eventually. ‘I wouldn’t ever do anything so, so--’ He stops and waves his hand around idly, unsure exactly how to finish.

‘Outrageous?’ With a grin, Karen leans up to kiss him once more, her arms encircling his neck as she pulls him down on top of her. ‘Of course not,’ she murmurs, her lips curling up into a smile against his. ‘So stop with the seducing and get on with it Indie boy.’

Matt’s eyebrows shoot up at that and he sits back on his heels, laughter taking over. ‘Get on with it?' he repeats. She merely nods, so he shrugs his shoulders and swiftly moves to unfasten his jeans, murmuring playfully, ‘Well, if you insist, Gillan.’

His answer is a shriek and Karen sits up, joining him, and swatting his hands away. ‘I didn’t mean it!’ she exclaims, but apparently changes her mind a second later. ‘OK, I did mean it... but honestly, Matt.’

He laughs, a little thrown by how serious she sounds, but soon tells himself to ignore it, turning his attention to her creamy skin, his hands searching out the hem of the jumper she’s wearing instead. Time to pick up where they left off in the kitchen he thinks, there are better things they could be doing with their time right now than bickering (even if it is only playful).

Hands slipping smoothly beneath the jumper, he slides them over her stomach and continuously onwards, his thumbs finally caressing the underside of her breasts. He smiles as he finds his target, receiving an answering moan of contentment, the grip she has on his hair tightening and her breath hitching.

Smiling, he spends several leisurely minutes acquainting himself with her body before catching hold of the hem of the jumper she’s wearing and yanking it upwards, the fabric skimming over her slim frame. He tosses it out of the way a second later, and then sinks lower to devour every inch of her in tiny, butterfly kisses.

They’re both quiet for a while, for once, and it isn’t until he pulls away that Karen speaks up again. ‘Now I really mean it,’ she says, her mouth curled up into a mischievous grin. ‘Get the hell on with it!’

This time though, she’s the one who’s undressing him, fingers working desperately, pushing both his jeans and boxers down past his hips in the most ungraceful of ways. He bites on his lip lightly as he helps her, kicking the offending garments off and down to the floor once they’re low enough. His socks follow several moments later, tossed away with no thought.

There is a collective silence, although only brief, and then Karen shatters the moment, exhaling loudly.

Nudity aside, Matt reminds himself this is still only Karen, so allows a gentle smile to cross his features as he shifts to lie over her again. She moves to accommodate the change, her legs falling open further to allow him more room and her knees coming up on either side of his hips. She looks anxious that this is happening now, but she’s still the same old Karen to him no matter what, so he soothes away her insecurities with a chase kiss and murmurs, ‘Temptress.’

She laughs very softly against his lips and, a moment later, he feels her hands on his back, gently encouraging. ‘Don’t make me beg,’ she whispers.

Matt has no intention of that and tells her so, sliding his hands confidently down her thighs. She moans softly and opens up to him, lips seeking out his to share in another kiss. Returning it comes like second nature, and as he kisses her, he lets his hips rock gently into hers. Her legs curl around his in return and she whispers something that sounds suspiciously like ‘please’ when he breaks the kiss to catch his breath.

Her hands are in his hair again and as she smiles up at him, fingers tugging painfully on it, she lifts her hips suddenly, desperately.

That’s all it takes and he loses his inhibitions shortly afterwards, his hands briefly balling into fists against the sheets before gripping her hips so tightly that he’ll almost certainly leave marks on her skin once they’re done. He sinks into her then, thrusting hard and deep, losing himself into the warmth of the redhead lying before him.

Karen’s anything but quiet, murmuring incoherently into his ear as she tightens her grip on his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

There is no question as to whether they both want this or not, they both clearly do.

Matt can barely move now, she’s wrapped around him so tightly, her entire body a coiled spring. He kisses her once, twice, and then casually moves to roll them over, remembering from earlier how Karen enjoys being in control of the situation.

Sure enough, he’s proved right almost immediately when she smiles down at him and lifts her hips high. He misses the feel of her surrounding his cock instantaneously, although barely has the time to dwell as she sinks low again and they meet in the middle with a heartfelt groan. This he knows he could get used to, she’s definitely a sight to behold, and the feel of her bare skin beneath his fingertips is glorious.

He leans up, a slow rhythm now developing between them, his hands exploring her body once again. He follows the same path as earlier, tiptoeing his way and leaving nothing untouched, listening to her soft moans and sighs and using them as his guide.

It’s like a game, and the rules are unwritten as yet. No one really knows the state of play and he is loving every second of it.

Matt soon finds Karen’s fingers threaded through his own and, like she did earlier, she urges them lower, taking him to his destination. He doesn’t need her help, he would have got there on his own eventually, but she’s impatient and wants everything all at once.

Sure enough, as the thumb of his right hand brushes over her clit, she sings her approval and her hips buck. He doesn’t manage to keep it up very long, and her suddenly furious movements are playing havoc with his own arousal. He, for one, certainly didn’t need any help in that area. His hands move back to her hair, tangling into her locks as he urges her down for one final kiss – it’s easier to just go with it.

He meets his climax only seconds before she does, and the kiss falls away again as she breathily murmurs his name. It comes over and over, a mantra tumbling from her lips like she has no control over it, and he closes his eyes, enjoying the sound of it rolling off Karen’s tongue. He’s not had a buzz like this in quite some time, and it really is magnificent.

Silence falls not long after, and Matt lies still, listening to the sound of their heavy breathing as Karen lays her head on his chest. It’s nice, peaceful, and somehow he knew it would be this way with her. For the first time since he’s known her, Karen is happy to stay quiet... for a little while at least. Post coital bliss, that’s for sure.

‘Your heart,’ she whispers eventually, and he lifts his head so he can look down at her. ‘It’s so loud.’

Matt laughs, his eyes falling closed as he lies back down. ‘Not surprised,’ he responds. ‘Why? What were you expecting?’

‘Not sure...’

Opening an eye and looking at her once more, he lets a light smile grace his features. She hasn’t moved yet and is merely tailing her index finger around and around in circles across his chest, her gaze trained upon the task. She’s deep in thought though, that much is obvious.

‘Are you OK?’ Matt asks her several moments later.

‘More than.’ Karen smiles and looks up, their eyes meeting for the first time in a while. ‘Just thinking about how much trouble we’re going to end up in if they find out about this, you know.’

It takes him a moment to realise that she’s talking about their significant others and not BBC Wales, or anyone else from that side of their lives, and he feels a little stupid to begin with. He supposes she’s right, but there’s really no need for anyone to find out, is there? This is private and should remain so, girlfriends and boyfriends aside.

‘Kaz,’ he whispers, his hands going to her face, thumbs stroking gently over her flushed cheeks. ‘There are no rules. We don’t need to tell anyone about this. No one’s going to find out.’

Karen nods as she thinks it over, her eyebrows knitting together in concentration. It’s just another of those Karen things that he finds irresistible. She always has been that way to him, there’s something about her. He’d never admit to it publically, or to her, but he’s sure he’s been in love with her since the moment they first met. If they told people about what had happened between them, he’d be forced to let the world in, and that’s the last thing he wants. What he has with Karen is special, it always has been, and it’s only now that it’s becoming more so. No one needs to know about that but them.

And he wants it to be that way – Karen Gillan, his little secret.

‘OK...’ Karen’s reply is quiet, and she moves to fold her arms across his chest, her chin resting upon them as she looks up at him. ‘Does that mean we can do it again?’

Matt grins and reaches down to pull the covers over them with a flourish, the fabric momentarily ballooning and surrounding them in a tent of pure white. As he rolls, leaning over her and planting a soft kiss to her lips, he seals the deal with one final word, murmuring softly, ‘Definitely.’

Fic: Doctor Who: Fields of Gold (2/4).

cloudysky — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 17:11:23 GMT

Title: Fields of Gold (2/4).
Author: cloudysky
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood.
Characters/Pairing: Eventual Jack/Eleven, Amy, Rory.
Spoilers: Up to 5x13 of DW and CoE of TW – so basically everything.
Rating: PG (PG-13 overall).
Word count: 3,385.
Summary: When the TARDIS gets rerouted and the Doctor, Amy and Rory end up in the middle of nowhere on Earth in 2063, the Doctor soon finds they’re not the only ones. While he works to figure out what (or who) brought them there, it quickly becomes apparent that the situation is more complicated than he first thought... and the same can be said for his volatile relationship with Jack, too.
A/N: Massive thanks to morbid_sparks for the awesome beta job. Remind me I owe you a cupcake (or two) when I next see you lol.
Other parts: Here.

Fields of Gold
2.

When they get back to the TARDIS, there isn’t much time for chatter and the Doctor is straight through the door and up the stairs, racing around the console room until he’s found what he’s after. As soon as he does, he doesn’t pay anyone else much attention and is engrossed, darting here, there and everywhere.

It isn’t until he hears a high-pitched yelp from outside that he comes to a standstill. This is shortly followed by the sound of Amy Pond yelling... loudly.

‘Right,’ he says to himself. ‘Tandem’s are a bad idea. Must remember that.’

Stepping away from the console once again, he hops back down to the doors and looks out, finding both Rory and Amy and the tandem in a heap on the ground. Jack is leant casually against the side of the police box, a bemused expression on his face and clearly fighting laughter.

‘Is everybody all right?’ the Doctor asks.

Unfortunately he receives a glare for his troubles as Amy scrambles back to her feet and brushes the grass from her skirt. ‘Do I look all right?’ she demands.

‘You look all right to me,’ Jack says, and this time he does laugh.

The Doctor glances between the pair, and then nods. ‘There we are then,’ he supplies before ducking back inside. ‘Safe and sound.’

It isn’t long before he’s joined by Jack, with Amy and Rory taking up the rear a couple of minutes later after another rather heated slanging match outside. By the time they make their way back through into the TARDIS, Amy is already in the process of ridding herself of her mud trodden boots and she flings them in Rory’s direction as she ascends the staircase.

‘I’m going to get changed,’ she announces just before disappearing from view. The Doctor hears her footfalls begin to fade shortly afterwards as she races off down the corridor.

He watches after her at first, but then turns to Rory for clarification. ‘What just happened?’

‘I got off the bike without warning her first,’ he says, now looking slightly guilty. ‘Turns out that’s not a very good idea when you’re on one of those things.’

‘Really? And what would have been your first clue?’

Rory shrugs, placing Amy’s boots neatly beside the staircase before starting up it himself. ‘I’m going to go and...’ he trails off and points down the corridor, waving his hand around awkwardly. ‘I’ll check on her, apologise or... something.’

‘Or something,’ Jack chuckles and raises a playful eyebrow.

The Doctor refuses to answer that, rolling his eyes instead.

It’s quiet for a while after they’ve gone and he returns to what he was doing; almost – but not quite – forgetting that Jack is there with him in the console room. He doesn’t force the conversation, knowing that the Captain will open up when he’s good and ready. They’ve done that dance before and it’s not worth repeating.

‘You did some redecorating in here,’ Jack finally says, shattering the silence with small talk. ‘It’s nice! I like it.’

The Doctor turns to face Jack as he moves to the other side of the console and smiles, his gaze settling on the other man’s face briefly. ‘I may have protested a little during my last regeneration,’ he says. ‘She didn’t accept it too well and... KABOOM!’ He throws his hands in the air, laughing.

‘When I last saw you,’ Jack says tentatively, taking a step closer, his boots echoing against the console room floor. ‘You were saying goodbye, weren’t you?’

‘Yes and no.’ With a shrug of his shoulders, he sighs and turns to the screen beside him, and then begins to tap away on the typewriter keys. ‘I always knew I was going to see you again, Jack. It’s never really going to be goodbye. At least, not for a long time yet,’ he continues. ‘When you live as long as us, you have all the time in the world, the universe even. Literally.’

‘But you were regenerating...?’

Nodding, the Doctor looks to him. ‘Right in the middle of it and I wasn’t too pleased about it either. Felt like my life was really ending,’ he says. ‘But that was a long time ago and it’s done now. This new me isn’t so bad.’

As he reaches the TARDIS console, Jack looks down at it, taking a moment. He clearly wants to say something else, but is doing an awful good job at restraining himself. ‘What do we do now, then?’ he questions.

‘Firstly, we need to--’ the Doctor pauses to pull a lever and glance at the screen ‘—scan for any alien tech that may have pulled us in, anything out of the ordinary that doesn’t belong. There was nothing obvious in sight, so this is the next step. If we can pin-point it, figure out what it is, we can stop it happening to anyone else. Always good. Don’t like bystanders getting caught in the crossfire.’ He stops, turns to Jack again curiously. ‘Weird to be listening to someone else map out the plan?’

‘Strangely, I think I could do with the break,’ responds Jack. ‘Call it a refreshing change.’

Laughing, the Doctor returns to the typewriter, tapping away uninterrupted for a minute or two. ‘Shouldn’t take more than an hour... or three,’ he says, tilting his head. ‘There’s a lot of ground to cover. Don’t have much else to do, may as well be extensive. Didn’t you say you’d been here a few days already?’

‘Since Tuesday. Nice little place if you like the quiet – which I don’t.’

‘Yes, must have been horrible for you,’ the Doctor says dutifully. ‘Now, how were you getting along with the locals?’

Jack smiles, moving to relax into one of the jump seats, legs crossed at the ankle in front of him. ‘Just fine,’ he responds. ‘The little lady who runs the pub is particularly accommodating. Let me stay on the cheap, all I had to--’

‘Jack,’ he interrupts, shooting the Captain a look. ‘We’re on the lookout for anything unusual and I’m pretty sure, as far as you’re concerned anyway, that is definitely not unusual.’

‘Nothing suspicious to report then.’ Jack shrugs and folds his arms behind his head, stifling a laugh. ‘Believe me, I would have said.’

The Doctor nods, turning to lean against the console and face Jack.

‘Your companions, interesting pair you’ve got there,’ Jack says. ‘Amy looks like she can be a bit of a handful.’

‘Only in the most magnificent way.’ Smiling, he looks to the staircase where both Amy and Rory had disappeared earlier and shakes his head thoughtfully. ‘I wouldn’t be here anymore if it weren’t for her.’

‘She’s sounds pretty special,’ Jack contemplates.

‘You have no idea how special.’

Another silence follows, although it doesn’t last all that long.

‘He’s a lucky guy.’

Chuckling lightly, the Doctor simply says, ‘Rory’s more than lucky. He won the jackpot. She’s pretty lucky, too.’ He moves across the TARDIS and hops up onto the rail beside Jack, looking at him from behind his mop of hair. ‘What about you, Jack?’

Jack looks skyward and runs a hand through his hair, response coming easily, ‘If you’re talking about Alonso, it didn’t work out.’

‘Not exclusively. But it doesn’t pay to be alone too long. Believe me, I should know.’

‘Were you offering?’

Typical Jack.

The Doctor ignores that, turning his attention to a scuff he spots upon his left boot as he swings it into the air. Sometimes it’s easier to say nothing than to encourage or deny, and with Jack that is definitely the case.

‘Had the time to road test this new body of yours yet?’

But apparently Jack isn’t done.

‘Highly inappropriate time for a conversation like this, Captain.’ He smiles, gaze turning to the man beside him, who is now looking him up and down with no shame. ‘Lots to do. Saving the world type things.’

Leaning forward in his seat, Jack returns the gaze, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. ‘You didn’t answer the question,’ he says.

‘Later!’

Jumping down from his seat, the Doctor settles himself back at the TARDIS console, hands moving smoothly over the controls. It’s going to take a while for any data to come back to him, but it doesn’t hurt to try and get a bit of a head start while he has the time. Besides, he’d really rather not continue this conversation, he’s not entirely sure he likes where it’s heading.

‘Kitchen’s in the same place,’ he supplies offhand, glancing over his shoulder when he realises the Captain hasn’t moved. ‘May as well make yourself at home, we’re going to be here a while.’

-

It’s several hours before anyone disturbs him again and when peering up from beneath the TARDIS console, the Doctor comes face to face with Jack’s heavy boots (as he expected to), he immediately puts a stop to his tinkering. He’d been elbow deep in wires and other bits he’d yet to identify when he heard the familiar footsteps getting ever closer and knew to expect the Captain sooner or later. It had been the former in the end, but he doesn’t mind.

He clambers back up onto the platform, abandoning his jacket on the jump seat closest to him and pushing his sleeves back up to his elbows. ‘Jack,’ he says simply.

‘Doctor,’ the Captain replies, eyes glittering.

It’s a familiar greeting and he smiles easily, leaning back against the railing. The lights are lower than usual, like the TARDIS knows that they should all be sleeping by now, and he struggles to see as Jack crosses over to the other side of the console, mapping out a path in the darkness.

‘She’s looking good, you know,’ he supplies a moment later. ‘A little disco maybe, but good all the same.’

The Doctor can hear Jack’s laughter as he continues to explore, his ancient hands moving over levers and dials, reacquainting himself with the now unfamiliar. As he strokes and caresses, the lights flicker in recognition, the TARDIS passing on her own sentiments of thanks.

‘You should get some sleep.’

Jack looks over at that, a small frown crossing his features. ‘Don’t sleep much these days,’ he says, hand reaching out as he dings the bell in the middle of the console. ‘There doesn’t seem much point.’

Exhaling slowly, the Doctor moves to fold his arms, his eyes following Jack as he circles the room again and again. ‘Bad dreams?’

‘You have to ask?’ Jack stops dead and looks up at him. His gaze is piercing, but the Doctor doesn’t look away and holds his resolve. ‘Every night,’ he admits a moment later. ‘Or as close to every night as you can get anyway. In the end I gave up trying.’

‘I could fix that for you, easily...’

‘Oh no.’ His laughter seems a little too loud and a little too restrained given their ease so far. ‘The last thing I want is you in my head. I trust you, Doctor, but I don’t want you coming in here. Not ever.’

Dropping the subject, the Doctor moves away from the railings and over to the console to join Jack. He pulls the screen into his line of sight, checking a reading or two before saying anything more. ‘An hour or so and we should be pretty close to figuring this out,’ he says, keeping his voice soft. ‘Must say, it’s a relief, wouldn’t want to be stuck here any longer than we need to be. Earth’s a little on the boring side round--’

‘You kept the coat stand.’

The comment comes out of nowhere and the Doctor blinks, looking around the screen to find Jack on the other side of the console room again. ‘Wouldn’t be without it.’ He watches quietly, and then adds, ‘I may talk a lot, Jack, but I am capable of listening, too. If you need me to, that is...’

‘Didn’t you say no more wallowing?’ Jack asks, glancing back and smirking lightly.

‘I did! And I meant it... mostly.’ Yanking the screen back to its original position, he looks to the console a second before smiling and flicking a switch with unashamed enthusiasm. ‘How about a flying lesson? It’s been a while!’

He doesn’t need to ask again, Jack has rolled up his shirt sleeves and joined him in record time, the smile on his face possibly the first true one the Doctor has seen since they met up earlier that day. ‘Where do we start?’ He chuckles. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to offer since we stepped through the door. Which knob do you need me to fondle?’

‘Jack.’ The Doctor’s attempt to sound authoritative is lost as he too starts laughing, his body sagging against the console.

‘Too easy,’ Jack says simply. ‘Sorry.’

With a shrug, he decides against justifying that with a response and instead directs the Captain in comfortable silence. The TARDIS doesn’t object to having another pilot for half an hour or so and, in fact, she seems to welcome it. As they dance around each other, the Doctor shouting out instructions, Jack following everything to the letter with a smile, it soon becomes apparent that all isn’t as it should be.

‘Of course, you’ve noticed the obvious fault in our plan by now,’ the Doctor says calmly as his fingers, betraying him, tap away ferociously.

‘What?’ With his elbows coming up to rest on the console, Jack knocks idly against the speedometer in front of him and lets a breath go excruciatingly slowly. ‘You mean aside from the fact the TARDIS doesn’t seem to be able move anywhere?’

‘No, no, that would be the one I meant.’

‘Think it’s the same thing that pulled us in?’

He doesn’t reply, attention moving quickly to the scan he’s been running as he pulls his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. Jack accepts his silence and steps up beside him. He looks back for a moment, thrown by their sudden closeness, but tells himself to not let it bother him and points the screwdriver at the screen, numbers suddenly dancing across it.

Muttering under his breath, the Doctor double checks several things before declaring, ‘Oh, I am stupid!’ He taps the sonic screwdriver against the screen once more and looks over at Jack. ‘It’s a magnetic field. Well, not an actual magnetic field, but that’s the best way to describe it. What’s pulling us in; it’s so incredibly strong that whatever it manages to catch a hold of is getting stuck fast. It’s attracting anything alien, sucking in space junk.’

‘So, it’s like a big intergalactic magnet?’ says Jack.

‘It’s exactly like a big intergalactic magnet.’

His companion is quiet for a moment, studying the readings on the screen. ‘Clever,’ he concludes eventually. A second later he blinks and becomes quickly offended. ‘Wait, are you calling my vortex manipulator junk?’

‘No.’ The Doctor turns away and tuts. ‘Well, yes, but that’s beside the point. The important part is that we can stop it and get out of here quite easily. We just need to shut it off.’ He hits several keys on the typewriter and grins. ‘Fancy a trip to the wind farm?’

‘If it means we can get out of here, I’m down for anything,’ Jack says confidently. ‘Back to the village?’

He nods and flips the switch on the screen, watching as it goes black. ‘Back to the village,’ he replies.

Darting over to the jump seat behind him, he picks his jacket back up and slips it on. He checks the pockets quickly to make sure he has everything he needs, and then bounds towards the doors. Jack is right behind him, greatcoat flying and as enthusiastic as ever.

‘Where are you going?’

The Doctor stops suddenly and looks back, boots squeaking as he skids across the floor. Amy is stood at the top of the staircase, leant casually against the rail in naught but a t-shirt – Rory’s t-shirt from earlier by the looks of it. Smiling when his eyes fall onto her, she bounces slightly on the balls of her feet almost hopefully. There’s no way they can leave now. Too much hassle.

‘Well?’ she adds when no one answers her.

‘We’re getting us out of here, the Doctor had his eureka moment,’ Jack tells her as he pulls open the TARDIS doors, saving the Doctor the need to speak, even though he decides to anyway.

‘No we’re not,’ he says, stepping over to where Jack is stood and pushing the door closed again. ‘Rethinking the plan – not that it ever was a plan. We’ll wait until morning.’

‘What?’ Jack questions bluntly. ‘And wait until everyone wakes up again? I say we go now.’

‘Well, it’s a good job you’re not in charge then, isn’t it?’

He’s greeted with silence, but ignores it and whirls around to face Amy. ‘Not important enough to risk one of us killing ourselves in the dark,’ he says. ‘Definitely not.’

Amy stares him down at first and when he opens his mouth to say something else, she suddenly comes racing down the stairs and darts into the storage room just off to the side of the console. When she remerges, she has her hands full and there is a ridiculous grin on her face. ‘Wuss,’ she comments playfully. ‘We have torches. You really should use your eyes, Doctor.’

‘Fine. Fine.’ Throwing his hands in the air, he gives up, deciding he’s clearly going to be outvoted on this one. He would have preferred to have gone when there were people around, the whole breaking into places at night when they were empty seemed a little too Torchwood for his liking. But what did he expect when Jack was involved? Honestly?

As he double checks the coordinates to make sure he’s got them spot on, Amy hands out torches, tucking one into his pocket for him.

‘Were you planning on waking Rory, or just leaving him here?’ he asks shortly afterwards.

Her eyes widen and she bites on her lip guiltily. Apparently she forgot about him, and races off a second later to cries of, ‘Put some clothes on while you’re at it!’

By the time Rory’s awake and Amy has dressed herself (jeans and a jumper, she’s not making that mistake again – or so she says) another thirty minutes have passed and both the Doctor and Jack are getting impatient. The former has returned to his tinkering, with the latter watching over him and making the occasional comment.

‘So… are we going or not?’

Amy’s voice floats down to where they’re sat beneath the console and, glancing upwards, the Doctor slips his sonic screwdriver into his pocket and calls out, ‘Well, if you will insist on going through the whole wardrobe.’

‘I didn’t!’

He glances to Jack, laughs, and then follows the Captain back up to the main floor of the console room. Pulling his torch from the confinements of his back pocket, he takes a second to check if it’s working, and then nods. ‘Captain,’ he says firmly, allowing the other man to take the lead.

‘Oh, so now you call me Captain,’ Jack laughs, perking an eyebrow at him before striding over toward the doors.

This time when he pulls them open, the rest of the group follow with torches at the ready.

Two minutes later, they come to an abrupt halt as Rory falls over the bikes they’ve left lying outside the TARDIS. He hits the ground with a strangled, ‘Oof,’ his torch rolling away from him.

‘See, I told you going in the morning would be a better idea,’ the Doctor chips in immediately.

The full beam of Jack’s torch is suddenly on him. ‘Where’s your sense of excitement, old man?’

‘I believe I left it somewhere at the end of the Universe.’ He shoots a pointed look in Jack’s direction. ‘And don’t call me old. I look a darn sight younger than you do.’

‘You’re so charming.’

‘I am a bit.’

Jack’s about to cut in with another response, but Rory beats him to it. ‘Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry about me. You carry right on.’

And so they do.

Sympathy is hard to come by today.