Archive of Our Own ^beta

“What’s this?” Benji asked, hands on hips.

Ethan paused, hefting a bottle of wine in one hand and a stack of DVDs in the other. “Movie night?” he guessed. “So...an ordinary Tuesday.”

“Yes, but on an ordinary Tuesday night soiree, you don’t come packing.”

Benji stepped forward and grabbed the lump of the gun that was only half-hidden by Ethan’s jacket.

Ethan froze, and Benji was suddenly very aware of how close he’d gotten. He suspected he should let go, but he didn’t.  

Ethan coughed, but didn’t move away. “I feel like there’s a joke to be made here, but—”

“—But I’m in charge of jokes, yes, and you’d do well to remember that.” Benji heaved a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair, “This is about the death threats, isn’t it?”

“The wh— death threats?” Ethan shouted, and Benji reeled back on his heels, whispering, “Shit!”

“Have you been receiving death threats?” Ethan said, moderating his volume with visible difficulty. 

“Maybe. Just, uh, a teensy-weensy one or two.”

“Teensy-weensy?” Ethan repeated, incredulous. Benji tried not to laugh, because now was really not the time.

“It’s not a big deal,” Benji insisted, “That’s why I asked Luther not to tell you.”

“Luther!” Ethan spun around, hands clenched tight at his sides, “Luther knows about this too?”

"Okay, yeah, but don’t tell him I told you, because he already knows all of my personality flaws, I don’t need snitch added to the list.”

“He should have told me. No, you should have told me!” Ethan rounded on Benji, eyes dark and hurt.

“Aw, c’mon mate,” Benji folded immediately, guilt-ridden, “you know how you get. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, it’s just...well. What can I do about it? Run and hide in an IMF safehouse until it all blows over?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me?”

Ethan whipped out his phone, hitting the speed dial. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Hunker down in a safe location until the threat has been located and neutralized.”

“We?”

“Yes, we, I’m not leaving you alone with some psycho out there trying to kill you,” Ethan paused. “Or psychos. Is this a plural psychos situation, or—” Ethan cut himself off with a wave of his hand, “never mind, you can tell me on the plane.”

“Plane?”

*****************************

It was a relatively short flight, only about four hours, which Benji was grateful for as he crammed his limbs into the economy class seat. He ended up sleeping most of the way in the end, which made it go even faster. When he woke, Ethan was watching him in a way that was both soft and fierce—it was confusing to see, like those two emotions should have cancelled each other out. They didn’t, and Benji wished he could pretend to still be asleep so he could soak it in a little longer. But Ethan noticed immediately and pointed out the window, “Welcome to Minnesota.”

They rented a car at the airport and started down the highway, quickly slipping onto backroads. Ethan maneuvered around huge growling semis and trundling Amish carts with equal skill and, Benji thought, familiarity.

Benji shot him an appraising look. “You know, I’ve spent most of my time in America on the coasts. I’m wondering now if the stereotypes about the expanse between are true…” He gestured pointedly to a faded roadside billboard proclaiming simply, “JESUS,” with a barn rotting behind it and a pack of wild turkeys roosting below it.

“The Midwest contains things other than cows and corn and conservatives,” Ethan reprimanded lightly, “Though I’m not really one to talk. I did grow up on a farm in the state next door.”

“Really?” Benji suspected that came out more judgmental than he’d intended. He respected agricultural workers! He really did; feeding the world and all, they were an absolutely essential bunch. It was just…Ethan. On a farm. Wrasslin’ cows or whatever it was one did on a farm, Benji wasn’t quite clear on the finer points.

“Yes, really,” Ethan said, returning Benji’s look from under his brows, “It was nice. Lots of space, endless shacks and machines and fields to explore.”

“Hmm. No bombs to defuse, no terrorists to fist-fight atop skyscrapers…”

“True, but I did break a boy in my grade’s nose in a scuffle on my high school’s roof…” He caught Benji’s raised eyebrows and waved it off, “There was a girl.”

“Ah.”

“Not what you think—she reported for the school paper. Was covering a scandal that embroiled the cafeteria staff, the football jersey budget, and a bunch of stolen chickens…” Ethan rolled his shoulders and refocused on the road. “Anyway. You don’t need to hear about this.”

“Actually, I do need to hear about it,” Benji countered, “I really, really need to hear every detail about baby crime-fighter Ethan and his teenaged pursuit of truth, justice, and the American way.” Benji tapped the GPS screen, which showed seemingly infinite miles of ‘proceed on County Road 10.’ “We’ve got a while to go, might as well pass the time.”

Ethan caught his lower lip between his teeth, reluctant. Benji nudged his elbow and egged him on, “C’mon, tell me about the stolen chickens. I must know, I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Alright,” Ethan finally broke, “but tell me to shut up if you’re getting bored.”

“I will tell you if it happens, but I have no doubt I’ll be engrossed.”

He was. It took a few fields of soybeans before Ethan warmed up to the idea, but by the time they nearly hit their first deer (which foretold “a true Up North experience,” Ethan assured Benji) he was comfortably ensconced in his storytelling rhythm. Benji learned more about Ethan in the drive between one small-town church steeple and the next than he had in years of working with him. He didn’t want the car ride to end.

It did, of course, end. However, Benji was too distracted by the sight of a huge, glimmering lake, like a crystal that had caught the sky inside of itself, to mourn it for long.

“You have been outside before, right?” Ethan teased as Benji took it all in: towering trees, a wood-paneled cabin peeking out from between the leaves, and a picturesque dock dipping onto the water.

“I mean, occasionally. Not usually in such full force,” Benji heaved his suitcase from the trunk, “Only on missions. I try to avoid intense exposure otherwise, to be honest.”

“Well, city boy, you’ll get used to it.” Ethan grinned, all laugh lines and bright teeth against tan skin, and Benji tried to be subtle about grabbing the car’s fender for balance when that nearly knocked his legs out from under him.

They ferried their luggage from the car to the porch of the cabin. Cabin was actually a bit of a misnomer: the place was two stories and clearly equipped with all the modern amenities, albeit decked out in shades of brown and faux-rough wood so it wouldn’t look glaringly out of place.

The screened porch covered the north side of the house, while an open deck looked out over the lake on the west. The first floor was wide open, a living room that turned into a dining area that backed onto a small but serviceable kitchen. The bedroom was tucked into the pseudo-attic space at the top of the stairs that served as the second story, a low-ceilinged little patch of hardwood with a double bed and a tiny bookshelf.

“You can take the bed,” Ethan tossed his jacket onto the back of a leather recliner, “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

“You don’t have to—”

Ethan waved off his protest, “It’s not like I sleep much anyway.”

“Oh.” Benji frowned at Ethan’s back. “That’s…upsetting.”

Ethan tossed a wry smile over his shoulder but didn’t reply.

“C’mon.” Ethan threw open the sliding door to the deck and breathed deeply. Benji swore he could actually see the muscles start to unbunch in his shoulders. “First thing you have to do at the lake is go stick your feet in.”

“Stick your feet in…the lake,” Benji asked, apprehensive as he followed Ethan down the steps and then down the gentle incline towards the dock. “Just your feet.”

“Yep.” Ethan grinned at the way Benji squinted doubtfully down at the crystal-clear water as they approached. “You seem a little suspicious.”

“I am appropriately wary,” Benji countered, “I’ve seen pretty much all the oceans in the world, but lakes…I dunno, guess they’re not the most familiar body of water to me.”

Ethan laughed, “I think you’ll get the hang of it. Pretty much the same principles involved as an ocean, just a little smaller and minus the sharks.”

“A bonus! Already liking them better.”

They sat down on the end of the dock, Benji rather gingerly so, Ethan with gusto. Ethan pulled off his shoes the way a child does, not bothering with the laces, then balled up his socks and rolled up the legs of his pants.

It was so casual. Almost carefree. Well, except for the gun holster attached to the back of Ethan’s belt. And the blade Benji knew Ethan kept on the inside of his shoe. And the fact that Ethan’s head was still on a swivel, watching for potential lines of approach, ears open for intruding cars or boats or copters.

Benji mirrored Ethan’s movements until they were both sitting with their legs swinging over the edge of the dock, feet dipping into the water.

“It’s warm!” Benji noted with surprise.

“Another lake benefit—they retain the summer heat well into fall. So, nice crisp air…” Ethan gestured, evoking the September breeze, “and warm waves.” He kicked lightly, splashing Benji’s calves and making him sputter.

“Alright,” Benji splashed Ethan back, “you’ve got me, I’m officially sold on lakes.”

They watched the sunset for a while, the dramatic reds and oranges reflecting like liquid fire over the shivering surface of the lake. Ethan’s gaze was wistful, and Benji decided it might be ok to pry just a little more into his past.

“Did you have a place like this?” he asked, “When you were an adorable little farm child?”

Ethan shook his head, a smile sneaking onto his lips. “We didn’t have the money for anything like this, but we had some friends who did. They’d invite us up a couple times a summer, the kids would spend the whole time in the water, the dads would grill up a storm. My mom would make everything you could imagine from Bisquick—pancakes and scones and dumplings…” Ethan sighed, bittersweet.

“You miss it?”

“Them. The…peace.” Ethan rapped the wood next to his knees briskly and tossed his hair out of his eyes. “But I’d be bored with that life. No skyscrapers to jump off of, like you said.”

“I think it’s alright if sometimes you want to just, you know, not jump off of things you’re not meant to jump off of,” Benji suggested, tentative. “Maybe just sit and watch the sunset. With a friend, even,” he added, hopefully.

Ethan’s head lolled to one shoulder so he could gift Benji with a crooked smile. Benji matched it. “This is kind of a like a vacation, if you think about it,” he continued, on a roll now. “Like, a really stressful vacation where you’re always packing heat and constantly checking the perimeter, but still. It’s a, a safe-cation. Like a stay-cation, but away from home and more heavily armed.”

“Yeah.” Ethan smiled, strong and warm, and laid a hand on Benji’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “A safe-cation.”

Benji realized with a twinge that Ethan was trying to comfort him. Because he should be scared for his life. Because that’s why they were here. Right.

“Just for the record,” Ethan announced, tone abruptly playful, “I have been fighting the urge to push you off the dock and into the water for a while now.”

“Don’t you dare!” Benji pulled his feet up and scrambled for purchase on the old wood.

“I wouldn’t!” Ethan promised, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that said otherwise. “It’s just so tempting—it’s what you do on a dock.”

“It’s not what I do on docks,” Benji sniffed, gathering his things and heading back to shore with one eye on Ethan, “Not that I’d spent much time on them before now, but I’m making that rule number one of future dock behavior. No unexpected or nonconsensual water entry via their platforms!”

Ethan grinned and Benji felt the light, buzzing urge to run, so he did. Ethan gave chase instantly and caught him halfway up the beach, taking him down with a tackle to the waist. They hit the sand with an “oomph!”, Ethan rolling them both so they barely felt the impact, ending up on their backs gasping up at the slowly emerging stars.

Ethan cackled when Benji spit out sand, absolutely vibrating with offense.

“This is worse than if you’d pushed me off the dock,” he declared, brushing sand off his arms and as much into Ethan’s lap as possible.

“It is,” Ethan agreed, “totally worth it, though.”

He started laughing again, and Benji gave up trying to de-sand himself and prioritized just…watching.

“I love seeing you like this,” he blurted out. Ethan leaned onto his side, their shoulders nearly touching as he listened to Benji. “You seem so happy, and free. It makes me want to force you to buy a lake cabin and then sign an agreement that says you’ll spend at least every other weekend there. So you can smile, at least twice a month.”

“I smile more than twice a month,” Ethan argued.

“Yeah, maybe three times. But that’s not my point, and you know it.”

“No. But my point is…” Ethan drew an endless spiral in the sand, not meeting Benji’s eye, “It’s not just the lake that’s making me smile. It’s the company.”

“Oh.” Benji’s mouth went dry. “Well, then maybe I should buy a lake cabin and then make you visit it with me at least twice a month.”

“Sold,” Ethan said immediately.

Benji knew that Ethan wasn’t serious about it. Benji knew that his financial portfolio would faint at the mere thought of purchasing property. He also knew that when this was all over, his new guilty hobby would be scrolling endlessly through lakefront property sites.

******************

Benji used to be a good sleeper. Out like a light, not a peep ‘til morning. These last few years, however, he’d grown restless and nervous. There were days where closing his eyes felt like a luxury at best and a potentially lethal miscalculation at worst. He woke at tiny things, like the rattle of an air conditioner, a car door slamming outside his apartment. The breathing of someone else in the room. 

A familiar shadow lurked near the foot of the bed.

Benji stayed quite still, and said simply, “Ethan.”

“Yeah?” the shadow answered.

“Buddy. Are you watching me sleep?”

“Only technically.”

“Only...okay.” Benji wasn’t awake enough to parse that. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Do you. Want to maybe not skulk in that corner.”

“Would you prefer I skulk in a different corner?”

“You could perhaps cease the skulking all together. Shake things up.” Benji paused, wondering if he should think through what he was about to say. Hmm. Nah. “You could come over here. It’s a big enough bed. If you’re gonna be keeping an eye on me all night, might as well be proximate.”

“You mean…”

Benji flipped back the comforter and patted the pillow. Then, in an attack of nerves, he rolled over on his side so he couldn’t see Ethan. “Whatever. Might as well be comfortable. Have a lie down, if you want.”

He tried to play it cool, but Benji knew Ethan would see how his back muscles were tense. Waiting.

The mattress creaked and shifted under the new weight. Benji relaxed. He could feel the subtle heat radiating out of Ethan’s body, like hands reaching out to caress his skin.

Benji slept peacefully the rest of the night.

******************

The next day, they went into the little town about thirty miles away from the safehouse and stocked up on groceries. Benji smiled when he saw Ethan add Bisquick to the cart.

Ethan went swimming in the afternoon, while Benji opted for a book on the beach. Supposedly, a book on the beach, anyway. If god or a surveillance team were observing him, they’d know he spent a lot more time watching Ethan’s tan figure slice through the low waves than read.

There was no grill, but Ethan whipped up a nice stew and some soft, pillowy biscuits for dinner, and it suited the just-cool weather perfectly. They ate on the deck, and Benji felt like he was in a dream. Not his own dream, because he wasn’t nearly familiar enough with the surroundings for his subconscious to have arranged them. But a nice dream. Ethan’s dream, maybe? Benji could hope.

After dinner and another sunset on the dock (where Benji could feel Ethan restraining himself from the prohibited dock-pushing shenanigans), they went back inside and built a fire. Ethan stoked it carefully and Benji fed it scraps of newspaper, and soon they had a pleasant little blaze giving off just enough light and heat to fill the living room.

“I appreciate you doing this,” Benji said, worrying at the edge of a knit blanket tossed over the back of the couch they were lounging on. “Coming all the way out here, for little old me.”

“Little old you,” Ethan rolled his eyes, “This is your safety we’re talking about here, Benji. Your life. What’s more important than that?”

“Nutella,” Benji replied immediately. “Um, the internal combustion engine. Dirty Dancing. But yeah, after that stuff, my life is definitely the most important thing.”

Ethan laughed and Benji marveled at how familiar the sight and sound were becoming.

“Well, it’s my honor to be your impromptu bodyguard,” Ethan said, pressing a hand to his heart.

“And you’re doing a bang-up job guarding my body,” Benji agreed, and Ethan snorted. Very inelegant, very not-charming. Benji loved him so much.

“Can I say something stupid?” Benji asked. “I mean, I say a lot of stupid things and usually don’t ask permission first, but—”

“Benji,” Ethan stopped him with a gentle hand to his forearm.

“Right. Um. It’s just, when we got here, and I saw how beautiful it was…”

Benji trailed off. He didn’t know what he was saying.

The fire crackled and sparks danced in Ethan’s eyes.

“There was this stupid little part of me that wished you’d swept me off to this particular safehouse because you wanted…me,” Benji admitted. “Alone. I used the past tense, but it’s, uh, present. Still. I wish—”

“I wish that’s why I’d done it too,” Ethan said, rushed and a little shocked, like he hadn’t given his mouth permission to share those words. “I couldn’t, I didn’t, I mean—your safety is my priority. But if the accidental side effect of keeping you safe is having you all to myself, here? Well. Hell of a good side effect.”

“Great. Yeah, really sensational byproduct, if I do say so myself,” Benji rambled, because he wasn’t sure what was happening except that it was so much and maybe everything he’d ever wanted and he just wasn’t equipped to deal with that, so letting every thought that wandered through his brain have free range seemed as good an option as any—

“Does that mean I could kiss you?” Ethan asked, looking absurdly nervous. Benji wondered if he imagined Benji would say no, and perhaps slap him for having the audacity to ask.

So, Benji leaned in and kissed him first.

He was just a little off-target on the initial attempt, hitting the corner of his mouth. His second try, he connected just right—this was materially assisted by Ethan’s sudden and enthusiastic participation.

Since Ethan seemed content to let Benji set the pace, Benji decided that caution wasn’t really their style, and kissed him hard and open-mouthed, sucking on his tongue until Ethan melted against him.

Benji took a slow, joyful tour of all of Ethan he could reach. He dragged both hands through his hair, stroked the long stretch of his neck, lingered on strong biceps. Ethan’s hands slid down Benji’s sides, one settling at his waist while the other wrapped around his back and pulled them tight, chest to chest. He let their combined weight settle him back against the arm of the couch, and then a little lower, until Ethan was quite pleasantly on top of him, and Benji was surrounded on all sides by heat and touch and the smell of Ethan.

Ethan reared back just a bit, leaving Benji stretching to follow. “Just wondering if I should slow down,” Ethan prompted, leaning back down to steal another kiss nearly before the words were out.

“That’s very gentlemanly of you, but I’m not exactly a blushing virgin,” Benji deadpanned. “I don’t expect you to kiss me on the cheek and say goodnight so we can pine in separate bedrooms. In fact, I’d be a bit disappointed if you didn’t at least try to ravish me on this slightly gross bearskin rug.” Benji gestured to the rug in question, splayed out in front of the fireplace and giving the appearance of watching them with its glassy, taxidermied eyes.

“So, big yes to the ravishing…pass on the bearskin?”

Benji nodded.

“Bed, then?”

Benji nodded again, a lot more fervently.

They made it up the stairs mainly by virtue of Ethan’s exceptional coordination, Benji offering very little in the way of help except to put his all into kissing Ethan’s neck along the way (which technically hindered their efforts, since it seemed to trip Ethan up something terrible. Benji didn’t stop).

They were just a tangle of limbs by the time they hit the mattress, which was fine by both of them. Ethan pulled away enough to attack Benji’s shirt, and Benji gazed up at Ethan looking intense and a little sweaty and generally incredible and couldn’t believe his luck.

“Could we have been doing this, like, fourteen missions ago?” he asked, appreciating the look of concentration on Ethan’s face as he battled Benji’s button-up. 

“You’re asking if I wanted you then? Of course. For a long, long time, Benji.”

“Jesus, I’m an idiot,” Benji groaned. Then he groaned for a different reason, and also put a lot more effort into tearing Ethan’s clothes off.

“We’re both idiots,” Ethan amended, “But now we can be idiots together.”

“An ideal situation,” Benji panted, and gave up Ethan’s belt for a lost cause because he really couldn’t leave him un-kissed for a second longer, so it would just have to wait.

Ethan was a bit more resourceful and had Benji’s pants off in an impressive four seconds after he set his mind to it. Benji wondered idly and briefly where he’d acquired this skill, but decided it didn’t matter now that it was being put to such excellent use in the current circumstances.

Benji was quite comfortable lying underneath Ethan, who seemed equally comfortable looming above him in a manner that was much more sexy than terrifying, but admittedly partly-sexy precisely because it was partly-terrifying. Ethan just had that way about him. Benji tingled from head to toe with the knowledge that there couldn’t be many people in the world who’d seen Ethan quite this…unleashed.

“Ideas?” Ethan asked, conversationally, when Benji relinquished his mouth to focus his attention on his wandering hands.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Fantasies, specifically. Too many to choose.”

“I’ve got one.”

“Oh lord,” Benji watched as Ethan slid down his body, mouth skating in a long tease against his chest, his stomach…

“You remember that time in Hong Kong? You were undercover at that company to try and get into their mainframe, and I almost got caught when you passed the information on to me?”

“Yeah, you had to hide under the de—esk,” Benji choked on the word when Ethan started licking experimentally at his cock.

Ethan rested his chin on Benji’s thigh for a moment to add, “This is all I could think about the whole time I was down there.”

“And there I was—oh, god—” Benji grabbed onto the bedsheet to try and stay grounded, then realized he had much better things to hang on to, and reached down to gently pull at Ethan’s hair, “there I was wasting time thinking about…about databases and getting shot by that guard while you were—oh, fuck…fuck, you were thinking about much better things.”

Ethan made a pleased hum and sucked harder until Benji was a writhing mess of sensation and swearing.

Through the haze of pleasure, Benji realized something and jolted upright. “Hey, um, this safehouse…it doesn’t have internal surveillance, does it?”

Ethan glanced up at the darkened rafters, fingers tapping a sultry staccato on Benji’s hip. “Well. I honestly don’t know. But…” he leaned in, each word like a touch on Benji’s skin, “If someone is watching, might as well give them a show.”

It was quite late by the time they’d tired each other out. The attic-like bedroom had gotten stuffy with the heat of their exertions, so they ended up dragging the heavy quilt downstairs and throwing it in front of the fireplace after evacuating the moderately creepy bear remains from the space. Ethan sprawled in the yellow-orange light and Benji marveled at all the long planes of skin and muscle, the scars and patches of hair and occasional freckles and all of it, all of it free to touch and taste and know.

“You know what I think?” Benji murmured into Ethan’s neck after getting comfortable, wrapped up around him until he didn’t know where he stopped and Ethan began.

“Mmm, what do you think,” Ethan replied, kissing his forehead and then letting his mouth just rest there, soft and thoughtful.

 “I think I should have my life threatened more often.”

Ethan’s muscles flexed instinctively, protective, at the same time as he barked a laugh. “No. Just…no, Benji.”

“Alright. Then, I think I should have you all to myself in a secluded location with few responsibilities other than seeing to my every need more often,” Benji suggested, reveling in the way Ethan’s answering laugh echoed through both their chests.

“Then I’ll make that happen.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They feel asleep in front of the dying fire, and Benji never wanted to sleep anywhere else, with anyone else, ever again.

******************

A bullet pinged off the birdhouse on the deck, sending wood splinters raining against the window screen. Benji winced. It had been a really cute birdhouse. They he froze, because a bullet had just ricocheted off the safehouse.

“They’re testing the house’s defenses,” Ethan said, vaulting the stair rail. He grabbed Benji and tried to drag him towards the hidden basement, accessible via a hatch in the floorboards. “Four men, two from the north and two from the south. The glass is bulletproof and the walls are reinforced-steel, but they’ll get in sooner or later. I’m getting you to the panic room.”

“No!” Benji protested, digging his heels in.

“Benji—"

“I’m not leaving you, Ethan!”

“Your life is in danger, my first priority is getting you safe.”

“It’s not my life I’m worried about!” Benji shouted. He knew he had to come clean, even if it hurt them both. And it would hurt.

“It’s not my life they want,” Benji repeated, defeated. “I didn’t get any death threats. You did.”

“What?”

“I know about the Maroni family. I know that they figured out who you are, that they’re gunning for really personal revenge over the way you took out their crime-boss father. I realized that you were in danger, serious danger, and that you wouldn’t do anything about it, so I…took measures.”

“You lied to me?” Ethan’s voice was quiet, disbelieving. Like he wanted Benji to tell him he’d gotten it all wrong.

“And you didn’t tell me that you were being threatened by some incredibly dangerous and well-connected gangsters with a paternal vendetta!” Benji hissed back, on the defensive. “I had to hear it from Luther! Who also told me that you were too stubborn to follow safety protocols. Which tracks with, you know, your entire personality and history as an agent.”

“You lied to me,” Ethan repeated.

“It’s your life, Ethan!” Benji echoed their conversation from earlier, “Your life was at stake. So, yeah, I lied to you. I’d do it again to keep you safe. I’d do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Just like I knew you’d do for me.”

There was silence. Technically, there was the shattering sound of gunfire bouncing off of and slowly penetrating their semi-secure hideout—but silence in the way that mattered.

“Alright,” Ethan finally said, terse and cold, “This isn’t the time to talk about…this.”

“Agreed.”

“I assume you still won’t get in the panic room.”

“Categorically, no. Assuming you wouldn’t either.”

“No…” Ethan’s tone changed mid-syllable, and he looked up sharply.  

“Oh, I love that look in your eye,” Benji said as Ethan beckoned for him to follow, the two crouching low to avoid lines of fire as they crossed the living room, “I mean, usually, I kind of hate it, because it means you have a wild and crazy plan that seems like it won’t work at all until it works spectacularly, but right now I am so relieved—”

“We have to lead them to the south side of the house,” Ethan said, almost to himself. “If we can get them all close enough…but what will shield us?”

Benji followed Ethan’s eyeline, through the window and across the patch of lawn to…

“Oh, no, I don’t think I like this plan anymore,” Benji whispered.

The natural gas tank sat on the lawn, harmless as anything. But one spark in the wrong place, and it was the friendly commonplace equivalent to a block of C-4.

“You got a better one?” Ethan snapped, checking his weapon.

Benji dug his nails into his palm, thinking, thinking—“No,” he realized, “but I think I’ve got a way to do this where neither of us go up in smoke.”

He whispered the plan in an undertone, pointing wildly as he went, and Ethan nodded. He understood.

“Hey.” Benji clutched at Ethan’s shirt. He wanted to say—

“Yeah,” Ethan said before Benji could speak, grabbing his chin and kissing him hard. “See you on the other side,” he murmured against Benji’s cheek, and then he was gone.

Benji ran on automatic, instinct and hours of training the only thing that could make him run away from Ethan, run to that damn panic room and throw open the door. He keyed in the code and climbed inside, pulling the hatch down after him. The computers buzzed to life along with the lights, and Benji punched in the access code for the external surveillance.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered as he tore open the digital systems, trying to force the quiet, hidden cameras to do something they weren’t supposed to do.

“Gotcha.” He’d managed to set up an overload in one of them, the one on the south side, electricity building up until—

The camera exploded and Benji tracked the attackers, abandoning their attempt on the house’s main entrance to investigate the noise. One, two, three—four! They were all there, all in range.

And Benji waited. He couldn’t see anything, obviously, his only line of sight sacrificed. All he had was what he could hear, rattling through the panic room’s walls.

Gunfire. More gunfire. Shouts and—

An unbelievable explosion. Even with the protection of the panic room’s shielding, his ears would be ringing for hours. He couldn’t imagine what Ethan’s would be like… Assuming, of course, that Ethan had survived. Being out there.

Benji was up, pushing open the heavy door as soon as his head stopped buzzing. Debris blocked the hatch and he had to go back, retrieve a shotgun and jam it in the clammed-up entrance to lever the damn thing open. He came into what was left of the living room, coughing through the smoke and crashing through the door to stumble towards the deck.

Half the cabin was gone, carved away by the explosion with uncanny neatness, smoking slightly at the edges. It was like a gargantuan doll house: you could see into each room, see the furniture sat there, scattered by the force of the blast.

“Nicely done,” Ethan said, and Benji almost fell over trying to find him in the clearing smoke.

“Oh, Christ, you’re alive,” Benji said, somewhat redundantly. He grabbed hold of Ethan as soon as he was in range, touching his chest and shoulders and that beautiful face, needing to be sure it was all there.

“I am. You were right about the deck.” Ethan jerked a thumb at the smoldering wooden remains, which shielded the nearly untouched area beneath—a rocky outcropping that had survived centuries of water eating away at it and which could weather a measly little explosion with ease. Or so Benji had hoped.

“I imagine you did some sort of impressive somersault while firing a bunch of guns and precisely hitting the tank as you went over the ledge,” Benji speculated, almost seeing it as it had happened.

“You could say that. It felt more like jumping and landing on my face, but…” Ethan shrugged.

“I’m sure it looked really cool,” Benji assured him. He felt a little sick with relief, and also with the knowledge that they’d just killed four men. Men who were trying to kill Ethan, however, which made Benji sympathize an awful lot less.

Ethan fixed Benji with a look and didn’t say anything. Benji couldn’t read his expression; a book that had opened up to him over the last few days now shut with a definitive snap. He felt sick all over again.

“Should we, I dunno, call this in?” Benji scratched the back of his neck and turned back to the wreckage, because it was easier to inspect that than Ethan’s face. “Write a report? Tell the fire department to come on out and make sure we haven’t accidentally started a forest fire? Or maybe that would be those other fellows, er, park rangers or something….”

Ethan was still quiet. The silence was no longer broken by gunfire, and the natural sounds of life in the forest were muted with lingering terror—squirrels and birds and even the insects seemed to hold their breath and wait.

“Okay.” Benji shoved his hands in his pockets. “Alright. I guess if you never talking to me again is the price to pay for you being alive right now, so be it.”

A cricket chirped.

“Well,” Ethan reached out and gently brushed away a line of soot on Benji’s cheek, acquired during his messy escape from the panic room, “I don’t know about never talking to you again.”

Benji clutched at Ethan’s hand, keeping it pressed to his face, breathing harsh.

“I wish you’d been honest with me from the start, but I also get why you did what you did,” Ethan said, resigned and fond and strangely absent of anger. “And I can’t exactly claim the moral high ground, since I would’ve done the same, maybe worse.”

Benji half shook his head, not ready to believe his luck. “So, you’re not, you know, absolutely livid with me?”

“Oh, I was furious. And then we both nearly died.” Ethan shook his head and slid his hand from Benji’s cheek to cup his neck, swaying closer, “And now it seems like a real waste of time to be angry with you when I could just…be with you.”

“You want…that. You want to stay with, with me?”

“Benji, I wouldn’t want to stay with anyone else.” Ethan grinned and waved at the wreckage around them, “You’re the only one who could keep me safe.”

“Not my best work,” Benji admitted. “But I can do better. I’ll always keep you safe, if you’ll let me. Maybe even if you won’t let me, actually.”

“I didn’t think I needed anyone to protect me.” Ethan’s thumb traced Benji’s jaw, slow and reverent. “And I didn’t think I could afford to have someone to protect. You’ve proven me wrong on both counts.”

“Ha, well,” Benji wrapped his arms around Ethan’s neck, letting their foreheads bump together, “I will prove you wrong anytime you like.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

They sat on the end of the dock, feet dangling in the water, one last time. They held hands and stole kisses and watched the sunset, safe in their sanctuary.