She'd told him to choose the place and to tell her where to meet him for dinner.
Which, of course, had meant Ben immediately climbing the walls trying to figure out what would be the perfect restaurant to suggest, and what would be right and fitting for Beverly Marsh Rogan, for their first time really hanging out in-person, alone, since everything had gone down in Derry and they'd parted ways with the others. Just the prospect of being alone with her again made his throat clench hard, his hands almost going clammy. So Ben had started reading restaurant reviews, combing through Yelp and The Infatuation, even calling up his assistant to ask for recommendations. He'd considered everything from Nobu (expensive, classy, five dollar signs) to his favourite local dollar-pizza hole-in-the-wall. It wasn't really a date. Was it? She was one of his best friends; she was going through a divorce; he couldn't treat this like a date.
(But he could still remember that moment in the water. Bev tugging him under, hanging onto an extra minute of privacy away from the others, a stolen kiss. The light filtering through the water, Bev's hair floating around her head like a halo, her mouth on his. As they both held their breath and hung on.)
But then he finally found the solution.
Ben hadn't sent her an address in the end, hadn't told her what he was planning, just what time he'd be at her place to pick her up. Said it would be a surprise. And he had gone to her new address at the fancy high-rise, and the doorman let him up (Ben Hanscom was apparently on the approved list), and then he was standing outside her apartment. He'd heard a bit about her move; knew the place was empty and only set up with the bare minimum of furniture carted over by the movers. It wasn't much of a home yet, but at least it was hers, away from Tom. He wasn't even sure if she had dining chairs in yet, but he supposed they would make do.
Behind his back, he carried a plastic bag, filled with white takeout boxes of Chinese food.
Since returning to New York Bev felt like her life was completely turned around. Tom was not accepting things with grace, to say the least, she'd already had to put several blocks on her phone and had a restraining order issued against him. She'd done everything she could to secure herself day one and then her business after that.
The latter was more complicated, but she had a good case her lawyers had assured her. She had years of designs under her name and in her portfolio, and she could prove that Rogan-Marsh was indeed majority interest for her, there was no way she was walking away penniless from the divorce. Not that it mattered terribly to her Bev hadn't grown up with money, having lived on the poor side of town as she had. She could work her way back up if she needed to, she was just fortunate that it didn't seem she would need to.
That unpleasantness aside she'd had little time to set up her new place, she'd bought new furniture that was due to arrive next week. That left her space a little spartan but it was hers. She hadn't had a place that wasn't her fathers or aunt's or some boyfriends or Tom's since she could remember and now she had a place that was her own. So what if she had a mattress on the floor for a bed, and sat on the floor to eat her meals. She still had a great view from the thirty-second floor of the Silver Towers and she was safe.
With the legal fight on and Tom being as he was she hadn't been into the office since her return, as a consequence, she had plenty of time to get ready to go out with Ben. He hadn't given her much in the way of details but he did give her a time, so she decided to dress casually nice thinking that was the best option. She decided against the oversized and block clothing she'd taken to wearing and instead just ran her hand over her closet and picked something by feel.
It surprised her but seemed somehow right that she'd pulled a soft pale floral dress in chiffon, the straps left her arms bare and she found herself reaching for a blazer out of habit, but she caught her reflection in the mirror and was surprised to see she looked nice, free. She used to love the freedom of wearing lighter things, how had she forgotten that for years?
Bev curled her hair, as much as the natural curls would allow anyway, and dabbed on some lipstick, she was just putting in earrings when the doorman let her know he'd sent Ben up so she answered the door with one hand waving him in and then helping her put in her other earring.
"Hey! Come on in, I swear I'm almost ready." She finished her earring and stepped right up to give him a hug without even thinking about it.
In some ways, it still felt unusual that he had so much towering height over her: some seven inches now, and more pronounced when she wasn't wearing heels. Ben's first memories of Beverly Marsh meant craning his neck to look up at her, the girl all leggy adolescence and her far outstripping the boys she chummed around with, except for Bill. Now, though, Ben had to stoop down to wrap his arms around her, while she craned up on tiptoes to reach him, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck and caught a hint of the shampoo in her hair and, oh, this was a problem.
Bev was so free and open with touch around him, while he still, even to this day, seemed a little sheepish and uncomfortable in his own skin. But he fell into it more easily with the Losers than he did with anyone else, so he squeezed her hard, a bone-crushingly tight embrace, before he let go and then followed her into the apartment, closing the door behind him.
Ben had opted for nice-casual, too: comfortable and well-worn jeans, a simple white button-down shirt, an expensive watch, no jacket. He was content to stand there, leaning against the wall of the foyer, simply watching her as she put on the finishing touches. Even the breezy way Bev craned her head and pinned her earring in place was fascinating to him; the small everyday miracle of her existence, and the fact that she was back in his life, and that he could still remember her.
"God, you look great," he blurted out, before near-instantly kicking himself for those words having tripped out, possibly already crossing a line. But when she finished with her jewellery and turned to look at him, he held up the plastic bag in front of him. The ruse wouldn't last long; the smell of fried dumplings and lo mein was wafting into ther apartment, and would eventually betray him.
"So... I cheated. I couldn't find the right restaurant, and then Chinese just seemed fitting."
Sure, it wasn't the Jade of the Orient, but then again that meant the night wouldn't end with cursed fortune cookies. Hopefully.
If they ever decided to give out awards for hugs Ben would be a gold medal winner, it felt so good, safe in his arms. It was like there was this protective wall around her, maybe that was just an effect of his being an architect he knew how to build things. Whatever it was she hugged back just as tight and just as long until they both let go.
His compliment caught her a little off guard as she was finishing up but it made her smile. There had been far too few smiles in her life for twenty years but this one was like dawn breaking over the clouds. She was radiant, maybe because that's how he made her feel, maybe because she'd finally gotten her own life back, maybe a mixture of the two. Whatever the cause she was happy in the way that it showed on her like a physical thing with all the weight and light of it. "You look very handsome yourself." And she ended that with just the tiniest saucy little wink.
She had almost texted him to see if he wanted to stay in, so the idea that he'd come to the same conclusion was funny to her, enough to have her laughing. "You read my mind. Unfortunately, I don't have a whole lot in the way of... well anything right now."
She combed through her hair and the back and shrugged. "Well, why don't I give you the tour and then we can eat? You can set the food down in the kitchen." She walked over and with a soft hand around his waist, she guided him to her small but well-appointed kitchen. She was right, it was bare but had everything she might need and would surely be elegant when she had things set up. "There's wine and beer in the fridge and you might have to regress a bit and have beer from the bottle or wine in a plastic cup."
What could she do? Things were still shaking through so she had been getting by with only the barest of essentials. There were still things to be removed from Tom's apartment, she didn't even think of that place as hers anymore.
"Umm ok, so over here is the bathroom," She stepped around him and without looking found his hand to guide him to the other side of the apartment. Again it wasn't huge but the apartment was luxury and it showed in the clean lines and excellent materials.
"Den or office back here," She pulled him along to a large open room with just her laptop on a tv tray and a folding chair holding material samples and sketches.
"And then," she was already turning around, somehow it was fun and exciting to be showing him her world. The first person she'd had in her space, it made sense that it was him. "Well, this is my room." Bed frame on order, the bed sat on the floor and was mostly neat, if a little rumpled looking. The only place in her apartment that looked as though it was in full use was her closet which stood open and was filled with warm colors and a variety of clothing.
"Ok, and living room." She eased him back to the main way they'd come in and beyond the kitchen and foyer was a large open room, like the rest it was light hardwoods and clean white walls. Good molding and trim, classic and understated but definitely pricey.
"But here's my favorite. Come on." Both her hands clasped his and she walked to the large window that was one whole side of the living room, it slid open to a generous balcony with a stunning view of the city. It reached the width of her living room and bedroom. Perks of having a good reputation and bank account in New York. "I can come out here and see almost the whole city when the lights come on it's like.. you remember when the fireflies would come out late in the summer? It's kind of like that."
It was dumb, it was absolutely dumb. But for her, this represented how far she'd come in so many ways. And now she could share it with someone and she wasn't worried that it was dumb, because he was Ben, he'd understand. He always had.
She was so quick with every casual little touch, but he felt each one like a burning brand: her arm around his waist, her hand on his, and their fingers interlaced. He felt his heart warm as she tugged him around the apartment for the grand tour, excited and showing it off. She probably wasn't used to this, to having something that was entirely her own to showcase, without her husband's hands all over it.
"Hey, I'm not judging," Ben said, as he set down the takeout and they moved through the near-empty rooms. "It'll be like everybody's first apartment right out of college. People helping move furniture for a box of pizza, drinking out of solo cups on the floor, sitting on camping chairs."
Not that he'd had a lot of friends to help him move. He'd been lonely before the Losers, and he'd been lonely afterwards — perhaps the worst part was that he hadn't even been able to remember the in-between stage, hadn't known that life could be different. That it could be a close-knit group of people who loved each other fiercely, instead of passing acquaintances and people chipping in out of politeness rather than loyalty.
She was too old for that experience and sleeping on the floor, but he suspected that it was a good thing in the end: burn it all down and start afresh with a clean slate. He paused in the doorway of Bev's bedroom as she led him there, too, taking in the sight of it; despite how empty it was, it still felt oddly intimate, and he suddenly remembered sneaking a look at her room when they were all helping to clean the bathroom. It had been like a window opening to this secret forbidden world (a girl's room, and not only that, but Beverly Marsh's room). He stared a little too long, before letting himself be dragged away again.
Once they stepped out onto the balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumnal night air. New York was usually so noisy, but they were high enough up that it was quiet for once: the city sprawled out beneath them, glimmering lights swimming in the darkness. It really was beautiful. He let out a long breath that felt like he'd been holding it for years.
"Man. This balcony's a great touch. Well-worth whatever you're paying through the nose in rent. It's beautiful out here. Kinda peaceful." Ben leaned forward, propping his elbows against the railing and looking down. He'd never been skittish about heights; he'd spent too much time in construction sites.
"Is it weird to say I already like this place more than my own house upstate? Like, my place looks like something out of an interior design catalog. It's nice, but it's... impersonal. Soulless. You're already well-set to make this one look homey though."
He seemed to tolerate her enthusiasm to show him the place well, and he was exactly right about it. Having her own place, something of hers alone, it made it special. It meant she could choose who she shared it with and frankly she couldn't think of a better first visitor.
Him leaning on the rail had her stepping forward too, though more gingerly. "I wasn't brave enough to look down yet." But with him there she was, and as breathtaking as it was to look out, looking down was astounding. A chilly breeze seemed almost constant at the height of her balcony and her dress rustled in it. She suddenly wished she had grabbed a sweater because she certainly wasn't going to miss seeing this sight.
"It's not cheap, but honestly it was the security rating that sold me on it, the only way into the building is to be allowed in after security check." And she'd worked up a small but important list of people that could be allowed, her lawyer, certain business associates, and Ben. She'd add the other Losers later when and if they decided to visit.
"You'll have to come by more often then." She replied automatically, and then offered a weak smile. "If you want I mean. You'll always be welcome." And she'd like it if he wanted to come over more. "And I could help you find some things maybe to make your place feel more you. I think I remember the Ben Hanscom aesthetic." She laughed knowing that his room growing up had been the epitome of 'the time' and covered in very 80s posters that represented his interests including New Kids.
"If you want to hang out here I can get a sweater," she rubbed at her arms, it was just a little cool for her in what she was wearing. "Or we can come back out after we eat. I don't have a tv yet, it's been a lot of books for me. Catching up on Bill's stuff." Because she was a supportive friend, not because she had any interest in him.
Her mention of security made him wince slightly and wonder what, exactly, had happened to make the split so ugly that restraining orders had been required. There was a story there, and he wanted to ask about it. Maybe once he'd had a couple drinks, or once they both had, and the question could fall off his tongue without him second-guessing himself.
In the meantime: "Thought you were a fashion designer, not an interior designer," Ben said lightly, but there was a small smile on his mouth, showing that he didn't mind. Ben's childhood bedroom had been cozily cluttered with books, posters, index cards, figurines, jars of loose change and rubber-bands, a globe, microscope, ham radio, comic books, playing cards... In short, literally anything and everything a young boy could use to entertain himself if he didn't have any friends. His mother had made sure he was well-stocked, had tried to spoil him with hobbies. His house as an adult, to contrast, was sterile.
"And of course I want to. The best thing about our shitty sort-of-school-reunion was having you — you all — back in my life. It's nice, that you're close enough I can just hop a train down here."
While they spoke, a breeze picked up and cut right through them. Bev's light chiffon dress was obviously made for summer or the indoors, not a windy balcony in the northeast in autumn. When he felt that ripple run through her, a slight tremor of a shiver, Ben reached out and ran his hand over her bare arm and shoulder, warming her with his hands, before he hastily withdrew.
"Yeah, it's nippy out here. The food's gonna get cold, too. So let's grab a bite first, and then we can head out here afterwards? I'd say we can people-watch, but... guess we're too high up even for that."
No TV meant no excuses, no distraction, nothing else but each others' company to while away the hours— ordinarily a terrifying prospect for him, but this time it didn't seem so bad.
If he asked she'd tell him, she had to admit it to get the restraining order and after that, it felt like maybe she could let go of all the shame that had kept her quiet about it for years. She wasn't to blame for the acts and actions of others, she knew that now.
Design was design and making someone look good was in part based on their surroundings, so the environment was very much tied into it. That and she hadn't always intended on going into fashion, she'd dreamed of filling homes with warmth and life and color, maybe one day filling her own home with the same and children. But that was never going to happen and maybe after all she'd been through it shouldn't. She hadn't had great parental role models after all, not fair to trap a kid in that sort of situation.
She wanted to respond to his comment but then he was warming her and her words just died on her tongue. It was such a simple gesture and for half a second she'd tensed up but just as quickly relaxed into his touch, accepting and appreciating it for what it was. He was Tom and he wasn't her father. None of the losers would hurt her like that, it was hard to tune out years of learned behavior but she knew she was safe with him.
"Yeah, we'd need binoculars to see the people from here." She smiled and ducked her head leading him back inside. She tucked her hair behind her ear and headed to the kitchen to get them plates and napkins, unsure just what the take out would have.
"Wine or beer?" She called out to him and leaned out of the kitchen to look at him. "I have a pretty decent red and a terrible white." She busied herself getting things together and than as an afterthought added. "Hey I have a fireplace, one of those gas ones, you could start it if you like, might be a nice addition to dinner without furniture. We can say we were going for rustic."
Do you have anything stronger, Ben thought, his kneejerk internal response, but he bit it back quickly enough. "I'll have a beer," he answered, "but you can break into the wine if you'd prefer that. If you wind up needing some help finishing it, I wouldn't turn down a red."
Food-wise, he'd made an executive decision and just bought the usual Americanised standards: sweet and sour pork, ginger broccoli, lo mein, some fried dumplings, egg drop soup. Figuring that if there was too much for them to finish (which there likely would be), she could keep the leftovers. It wasn't the obsessively healthy food that he'd stuck to for years now — lean white grilled chicken, salads, roasted vegetables — but hell, he could make exceptions for a nice night with a friend.
While Bev went into the kitchen and started unpacking the boxes, Ben followed her suggestion and moved into the living room, hunkering down on his heels in front of the fireplace and fiddling with the button before it finally clicked on. Calling back over his shoulder towards the kitchen, bemused:
"I've never really been one for winter cabins, but— We can pretend it's a rustic cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Eating dinner on the rug in front of the fireplace. Sounds cozy."
"Beer it is." She came out with plates of food and chopsticks in one arm and a beer and plastic cup of wine in the other. She carefully knelt down to set them on the floor. "I guess working as a waitress in college had to pay off one day." She might have had a scholarship but that didn't mean she hadn't worked as well.
His comment about a rug had her thinking though and she stood and walked to her bedroom a moment later she emerged with a faux fur throw blanket. "I think this works as a rug, enough to keep us off the floor anyway." Bev laid it out and knelt down to smooth out the wrinkles before she sat on it, legs curled under her, pretty satisfied with the effect.
"Who knew you had such good romantic ideas." She grinned and raised her cup of wine in a toast. "To new beginnings and old friends." And maybe some of one with the other. ran fleetingly through her mind.
They had kissed back in Derry, hadn't they? And she'd confirmed that he was the poet that had written her the most moving thing she'd ever read. It wasn't like they were strangers to each other, but then again how well do you know a person from one summer when you were twelve? The answer came to her immediately: completely.
She hadn't examined her feelings for him, she hadn't even put it into the context of having feelings for him yet. She hadn't had time, there was the divorce and the business and getting settled in and so much else that she hadn't thought about anything but she really wanted to. Did she dare say something? What if he didn't feel the same, it could have just been relief that everything was over back in Derry. She had initiated the kiss after all.
He was here, did that mean something? They were having fun so of course she was going to hyper analyze everything, survivors did that as a means of self preservation. Always wait for the other shoe to drop. It wasn't that she enjoyed the abuse Tom and others had given her but she had grown accustomed to it and it became very much the devil she knew how to cope with. But that wasn't Ben, that could never be Ben.
"To old friends," Ben agreed, tipping his bottle of beer against her plastic cup as he settled on the blanket, long legs sprawled out in front of him like they were having a picnic.
"And honestly, most of my ideas are about load-bearing pillars or rotundas or angles of lighting. I can't say I'm good at romantic ideas. For the right person, maybe," he murmured, his gaze darting downwards to his plate, as he busied himself with stabbing at it with his chopsticks, avoiding her eye.
That one word, romantic, had sent a self-conscious ripple through him, not unalike her shiver out on the balcony. Not a word that had ever felt safe to apply to himself, even when there were such vast, untapped reserves of romance and heart inside him, just plaintively waiting for the right person to turn the key and unlock it all. But he was cautious, tiptoeing around that unspoken thing, the fact of his love for her. Not wanting to read too much into that grateful kiss, or pressure her, or rush her too quickly, or demand something she wasn't ready to give yet, when she was so recently extricating herself from a marriage.
Because he had waited twenty-seven years to tumble back into Bev's life, so what was a few more weeks or months on top of it all? She could have anything, do anything, or even decide that she never wanted him the same way, and Ben would be fine with it. Would be happy enough just to spend time with her, like a starving plant turning towards a long-forgotten sun.
Was that a comment she was meant to take something from? Ben saying he wasn't romantic and then tacking on he could be for the right person. That implied that there were right and wrong people which might mean she was the wrong sort. Her smile never faltered though, she'd practiced keeping a happy face so well in her life that it would take a lot to make her break.
He wasn't looking at her now either, Bev took a long sip of her wine before she too tried the food. It was good and she didn't want to sound surprised but there was a note of pleasant appreciation after her first bite. "This is really good." She offered from behind a hand to cover the fact she stuffed an entire dumpling in her mouth at once.
It was probably good because she was enjoying herself, she couldn't even remember the last time, before Derry anyway, that she'd spent time with someone because she wanted to. It was upsetting to think how much of her life she'd let Tom control and how she might still be there if it wasn't for Mike's call.
It was just like Ben said, even with all the terrible things that happened back then and more recently, so much good came out of it too. They were all free in their own ways, at least she thought they were. Mike could go on with his life, Richie could be his true self, Bill could write something to a satisfactory ending. She'd gotten away from not just tom but an entire cycle of abuse and Ben had
She didn't know. She was never sure what fears It had preyed on with Ben or what he'd faced. She felt like she should and maybe that was her failure as a friend to not know. "So, what are your plans now that," He was free? It was over? "I guess just now. And are they different than before?"
He took a sip of his beer, which gave him some time to think about her question. The others' journeys had been so clear-cut: Bev had left a husband. Bill had forgiven himself over Georgie. Grand moments of long-awaited symbolic catharsis.
Ben, though—
It was harder to pin down, and he didn't particularly want to think that his entire life revolved around parsing his feelings for Bev. Because it didn't. Instead, Ben's time in Derry had meant...
Remembering that he could have friends. Could be loved. Could be fierce and ferocious and brave. That he didn't have to be alone forever. Remembering a time that he'd bodily thrown himself right at a werewolf as a child, even as it gored him open, and then he'd been ripped open again just a few weeks ago. All of which hardly matched the quiet man people knew him as: a handsome wallflower, but a wallflower nonetheless; Ben always ghosted to the side of the room at parties, never occupying the limelight, never hogging it like Richie did. But that didn't mean he was a coward, or wasn't brave.
And also—
"I want a vacation," he said suddenly, the idea finally coming to him. "I couldn't even tell you the last time I took time off work. We both kinda seem like workaholics. I mean, Richie knows how to party, and Bill somehow figured out the whole functional marriage thing alongside his job, but I haven't done a single thing for years that wasn't work. Not much of a social life either, like I said. So I should fix that. And maybe relax somewhere warm, tropical, for a little while. Maybe try yachting. Have you ever been yachting?"
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post-canon; new york dinner date.
Date: 2020-11-09 02:29 am (UTC)Which, of course, had meant Ben immediately climbing the walls trying to figure out what would be the perfect restaurant to suggest, and what would be right and fitting for Beverly Marsh Rogan, for their first time really hanging out in-person, alone, since everything had gone down in Derry and they'd parted ways with the others. Just the prospect of being alone with her again made his throat clench hard, his hands almost going clammy. So Ben had started reading restaurant reviews, combing through Yelp and The Infatuation, even calling up his assistant to ask for recommendations. He'd considered everything from Nobu (expensive, classy, five dollar signs) to his favourite local dollar-pizza hole-in-the-wall. It wasn't really a date. Was it? She was one of his best friends; she was going through a divorce; he couldn't treat this like a date.
(But he could still remember that moment in the water. Bev tugging him under, hanging onto an extra minute of privacy away from the others, a stolen kiss. The light filtering through the water, Bev's hair floating around her head like a halo, her mouth on his. As they both held their breath and hung on.)
But then he finally found the solution.
Ben hadn't sent her an address in the end, hadn't told her what he was planning, just what time he'd be at her place to pick her up. Said it would be a surprise. And he had gone to her new address at the fancy high-rise, and the doorman let him up (Ben Hanscom was apparently on the approved list), and then he was standing outside her apartment. He'd heard a bit about her move; knew the place was empty and only set up with the bare minimum of furniture carted over by the movers. It wasn't much of a home yet, but at least it was hers, away from Tom. He wasn't even sure if she had dining chairs in yet, but he supposed they would make do.
Behind his back, he carried a plastic bag, filled with white takeout boxes of Chinese food.
He knocked on the door.
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Date: 2020-11-09 04:24 am (UTC)The latter was more complicated, but she had a good case her lawyers had assured her. She had years of designs under her name and in her portfolio, and she could prove that Rogan-Marsh was indeed majority interest for her, there was no way she was walking away penniless from the divorce. Not that it mattered terribly to her Bev hadn't grown up with money, having lived on the poor side of town as she had. She could work her way back up if she needed to, she was just fortunate that it didn't seem she would need to.
That unpleasantness aside she'd had little time to set up her new place, she'd bought new furniture that was due to arrive next week. That left her space a little spartan but it was hers. She hadn't had a place that wasn't her fathers or aunt's or some boyfriends or Tom's since she could remember and now she had a place that was her own. So what if she had a mattress on the floor for a bed, and sat on the floor to eat her meals. She still had a great view from the thirty-second floor of the Silver Towers and she was safe.
With the legal fight on and Tom being as he was she hadn't been into the office since her return, as a consequence, she had plenty of time to get ready to go out with Ben. He hadn't given her much in the way of details but he did give her a time, so she decided to dress casually nice thinking that was the best option. She decided against the oversized and block clothing she'd taken to wearing and instead just ran her hand over her closet and picked something by feel.
It surprised her but seemed somehow right that she'd pulled a soft pale floral dress in chiffon, the straps left her arms bare and she found herself reaching for a blazer out of habit, but she caught her reflection in the mirror and was surprised to see she looked nice, free. She used to love the freedom of wearing lighter things, how had she forgotten that for years?
Bev curled her hair, as much as the natural curls would allow anyway, and dabbed on some lipstick, she was just putting in earrings when the doorman let her know he'd sent Ben up so she answered the door with one hand waving him in and then helping her put in her other earring.
"Hey! Come on in, I swear I'm almost ready." She finished her earring and stepped right up to give him a hug without even thinking about it.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-10 03:09 am (UTC)In some ways, it still felt unusual that he had so much towering height over her: some seven inches now, and more pronounced when she wasn't wearing heels. Ben's first memories of Beverly Marsh meant craning his neck to look up at her, the girl all leggy adolescence and her far outstripping the boys she chummed around with, except for Bill. Now, though, Ben had to stoop down to wrap his arms around her, while she craned up on tiptoes to reach him, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck and caught a hint of the shampoo in her hair and, oh, this was a problem.
Bev was so free and open with touch around him, while he still, even to this day, seemed a little sheepish and uncomfortable in his own skin. But he fell into it more easily with the Losers than he did with anyone else, so he squeezed her hard, a bone-crushingly tight embrace, before he let go and then followed her into the apartment, closing the door behind him.
Ben had opted for nice-casual, too: comfortable and well-worn jeans, a simple white button-down shirt, an expensive watch, no jacket. He was content to stand there, leaning against the wall of the foyer, simply watching her as she put on the finishing touches. Even the breezy way Bev craned her head and pinned her earring in place was fascinating to him; the small everyday miracle of her existence, and the fact that she was back in his life, and that he could still remember her.
"God, you look great," he blurted out, before near-instantly kicking himself for those words having tripped out, possibly already crossing a line. But when she finished with her jewellery and turned to look at him, he held up the plastic bag in front of him. The ruse wouldn't last long; the smell of fried dumplings and lo mein was wafting into ther apartment, and would eventually betray him.
"So... I cheated. I couldn't find the right restaurant, and then Chinese just seemed fitting."
Sure, it wasn't the Jade of the Orient, but then again that meant the night wouldn't end with cursed fortune cookies. Hopefully.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-10 04:06 am (UTC)His compliment caught her a little off guard as she was finishing up but it made her smile. There had been far too few smiles in her life for twenty years but this one was like dawn breaking over the clouds. She was radiant, maybe because that's how he made her feel, maybe because she'd finally gotten her own life back, maybe a mixture of the two. Whatever the cause she was happy in the way that it showed on her like a physical thing with all the weight and light of it. "You look very handsome yourself." And she ended that with just the tiniest saucy little wink.
She had almost texted him to see if he wanted to stay in, so the idea that he'd come to the same conclusion was funny to her, enough to have her laughing. "You read my mind. Unfortunately, I don't have a whole lot in the way of... well anything right now."
She combed through her hair and the back and shrugged. "Well, why don't I give you the tour and then we can eat? You can set the food down in the kitchen." She walked over and with a soft hand around his waist, she guided him to her small but well-appointed kitchen. She was right, it was bare but had everything she might need and would surely be elegant when she had things set up. "There's wine and beer in the fridge and you might have to regress a bit and have beer from the bottle or wine in a plastic cup."
What could she do? Things were still shaking through so she had been getting by with only the barest of essentials. There were still things to be removed from Tom's apartment, she didn't even think of that place as hers anymore.
"Umm ok, so over here is the bathroom," She stepped around him and without looking found his hand to guide him to the other side of the apartment. Again it wasn't huge but the apartment was luxury and it showed in the clean lines and excellent materials.
"Den or office back here," She pulled him along to a large open room with just her laptop on a tv tray and a folding chair holding material samples and sketches.
"And then," she was already turning around, somehow it was fun and exciting to be showing him her world. The first person she'd had in her space, it made sense that it was him. "Well, this is my room." Bed frame on order, the bed sat on the floor and was mostly neat, if a little rumpled looking. The only place in her apartment that looked as though it was in full use was her closet which stood open and was filled with warm colors and a variety of clothing.
"Ok, and living room." She eased him back to the main way they'd come in and beyond the kitchen and foyer was a large open room, like the rest it was light hardwoods and clean white walls. Good molding and trim, classic and understated but definitely pricey.
"But here's my favorite. Come on." Both her hands clasped his and she walked to the large window that was one whole side of the living room, it slid open to a generous balcony with a stunning view of the city. It reached the width of her living room and bedroom. Perks of having a good reputation and bank account in New York. "I can come out here and see almost the whole city when the lights come on it's like.. you remember when the fireflies would come out late in the summer? It's kind of like that."
It was dumb, it was absolutely dumb. But for her, this represented how far she'd come in so many ways. And now she could share it with someone and she wasn't worried that it was dumb, because he was Ben, he'd understand. He always had.
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Date: 2020-11-10 09:03 pm (UTC)"Hey, I'm not judging," Ben said, as he set down the takeout and they moved through the near-empty rooms. "It'll be like everybody's first apartment right out of college. People helping move furniture for a box of pizza, drinking out of solo cups on the floor, sitting on camping chairs."
Not that he'd had a lot of friends to help him move. He'd been lonely before the Losers, and he'd been lonely afterwards — perhaps the worst part was that he hadn't even been able to remember the in-between stage, hadn't known that life could be different. That it could be a close-knit group of people who loved each other fiercely, instead of passing acquaintances and people chipping in out of politeness rather than loyalty.
She was too old for that experience and sleeping on the floor, but he suspected that it was a good thing in the end: burn it all down and start afresh with a clean slate. He paused in the doorway of Bev's bedroom as she led him there, too, taking in the sight of it; despite how empty it was, it still felt oddly intimate, and he suddenly remembered sneaking a look at her room when they were all helping to clean the bathroom. It had been like a window opening to this secret forbidden world (a girl's room, and not only that, but Beverly Marsh's room). He stared a little too long, before letting himself be dragged away again.
Once they stepped out onto the balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumnal night air. New York was usually so noisy, but they were high enough up that it was quiet for once: the city sprawled out beneath them, glimmering lights swimming in the darkness. It really was beautiful. He let out a long breath that felt like he'd been holding it for years.
"Man. This balcony's a great touch. Well-worth whatever you're paying through the nose in rent. It's beautiful out here. Kinda peaceful." Ben leaned forward, propping his elbows against the railing and looking down. He'd never been skittish about heights; he'd spent too much time in construction sites.
"Is it weird to say I already like this place more than my own house upstate? Like, my place looks like something out of an interior design catalog. It's nice, but it's... impersonal. Soulless. You're already well-set to make this one look homey though."
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Date: 2020-11-11 12:21 am (UTC)Him leaning on the rail had her stepping forward too, though more gingerly. "I wasn't brave enough to look down yet." But with him there she was, and as breathtaking as it was to look out, looking down was astounding. A chilly breeze seemed almost constant at the height of her balcony and her dress rustled in it. She suddenly wished she had grabbed a sweater because she certainly wasn't going to miss seeing this sight.
"It's not cheap, but honestly it was the security rating that sold me on it, the only way into the building is to be allowed in after security check." And she'd worked up a small but important list of people that could be allowed, her lawyer, certain business associates, and Ben. She'd add the other Losers later when and if they decided to visit.
"You'll have to come by more often then." She replied automatically, and then offered a weak smile. "If you want I mean. You'll always be welcome." And she'd like it if he wanted to come over more. "And I could help you find some things maybe to make your place feel more you. I think I remember the Ben Hanscom aesthetic." She laughed knowing that his room growing up had been the epitome of 'the time' and covered in very 80s posters that represented his interests including New Kids.
"If you want to hang out here I can get a sweater," she rubbed at her arms, it was just a little cool for her in what she was wearing. "Or we can come back out after we eat. I don't have a tv yet, it's been a lot of books for me. Catching up on Bill's stuff." Because she was a supportive friend, not because she had any interest in him.
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Date: 2020-11-11 05:08 am (UTC)In the meantime: "Thought you were a fashion designer, not an interior designer," Ben said lightly, but there was a small smile on his mouth, showing that he didn't mind. Ben's childhood bedroom had been cozily cluttered with books, posters, index cards, figurines, jars of loose change and rubber-bands, a globe, microscope, ham radio, comic books, playing cards... In short, literally anything and everything a young boy could use to entertain himself if he didn't have any friends. His mother had made sure he was well-stocked, had tried to spoil him with hobbies. His house as an adult, to contrast, was sterile.
"And of course I want to. The best thing about our shitty sort-of-school-reunion was having you — you all — back in my life. It's nice, that you're close enough I can just hop a train down here."
While they spoke, a breeze picked up and cut right through them. Bev's light chiffon dress was obviously made for summer or the indoors, not a windy balcony in the northeast in autumn. When he felt that ripple run through her, a slight tremor of a shiver, Ben reached out and ran his hand over her bare arm and shoulder, warming her with his hands, before he hastily withdrew.
"Yeah, it's nippy out here. The food's gonna get cold, too. So let's grab a bite first, and then we can head out here afterwards? I'd say we can people-watch, but... guess we're too high up even for that."
No TV meant no excuses, no distraction, nothing else but each others' company to while away the hours— ordinarily a terrifying prospect for him, but this time it didn't seem so bad.
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Date: 2020-11-11 06:04 am (UTC)Design was design and making someone look good was in part based on their surroundings, so the environment was very much tied into it. That and she hadn't always intended on going into fashion, she'd dreamed of filling homes with warmth and life and color, maybe one day filling her own home with the same and children. But that was never going to happen and maybe after all she'd been through it shouldn't. She hadn't had great parental role models after all, not fair to trap a kid in that sort of situation.
She wanted to respond to his comment but then he was warming her and her words just died on her tongue. It was such a simple gesture and for half a second she'd tensed up but just as quickly relaxed into his touch, accepting and appreciating it for what it was. He was Tom and he wasn't her father. None of the losers would hurt her like that, it was hard to tune out years of learned behavior but she knew she was safe with him.
"Yeah, we'd need binoculars to see the people from here." She smiled and ducked her head leading him back inside. She tucked her hair behind her ear and headed to the kitchen to get them plates and napkins, unsure just what the take out would have.
"Wine or beer?" She called out to him and leaned out of the kitchen to look at him. "I have a pretty decent red and a terrible white." She busied herself getting things together and than as an afterthought added. "Hey I have a fireplace, one of those gas ones, you could start it if you like, might be a nice addition to dinner without furniture. We can say we were going for rustic."
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Date: 2020-11-11 07:14 pm (UTC)Food-wise, he'd made an executive decision and just bought the usual Americanised standards: sweet and sour pork, ginger broccoli, lo mein, some fried dumplings, egg drop soup. Figuring that if there was too much for them to finish (which there likely would be), she could keep the leftovers. It wasn't the obsessively healthy food that he'd stuck to for years now — lean white grilled chicken, salads, roasted vegetables — but hell, he could make exceptions for a nice night with a friend.
While Bev went into the kitchen and started unpacking the boxes, Ben followed her suggestion and moved into the living room, hunkering down on his heels in front of the fireplace and fiddling with the button before it finally clicked on. Calling back over his shoulder towards the kitchen, bemused:
"I've never really been one for winter cabins, but— We can pretend it's a rustic cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Eating dinner on the rug in front of the fireplace. Sounds cozy."
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Date: 2020-11-11 07:41 pm (UTC)His comment about a rug had her thinking though and she stood and walked to her bedroom a moment later she emerged with a faux fur throw blanket. "I think this works as a rug, enough to keep us off the floor anyway." Bev laid it out and knelt down to smooth out the wrinkles before she sat on it, legs curled under her, pretty satisfied with the effect.
"Who knew you had such good romantic ideas." She grinned and raised her cup of wine in a toast. "To new beginnings and old friends." And maybe some of one with the other. ran fleetingly through her mind.
They had kissed back in Derry, hadn't they? And she'd confirmed that he was the poet that had written her the most moving thing she'd ever read. It wasn't like they were strangers to each other, but then again how well do you know a person from one summer when you were twelve? The answer came to her immediately: completely.
She hadn't examined her feelings for him, she hadn't even put it into the context of having feelings for him yet. She hadn't had time, there was the divorce and the business and getting settled in and so much else that she hadn't thought about anything but she really wanted to. Did she dare say something? What if he didn't feel the same, it could have just been relief that everything was over back in Derry. She had initiated the kiss after all.
He was here, did that mean something? They were having fun so of course she was going to hyper analyze everything, survivors did that as a means of self preservation. Always wait for the other shoe to drop. It wasn't that she enjoyed the abuse Tom and others had given her but she had grown accustomed to it and it became very much the devil she knew how to cope with. But that wasn't Ben, that could never be Ben.
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Date: 2020-11-12 04:32 am (UTC)"And honestly, most of my ideas are about load-bearing pillars or rotundas or angles of lighting. I can't say I'm good at romantic ideas. For the right person, maybe," he murmured, his gaze darting downwards to his plate, as he busied himself with stabbing at it with his chopsticks, avoiding her eye.
That one word, romantic, had sent a self-conscious ripple through him, not unalike her shiver out on the balcony. Not a word that had ever felt safe to apply to himself, even when there were such vast, untapped reserves of romance and heart inside him, just plaintively waiting for the right person to turn the key and unlock it all. But he was cautious, tiptoeing around that unspoken thing, the fact of his love for her. Not wanting to read too much into that grateful kiss, or pressure her, or rush her too quickly, or demand something she wasn't ready to give yet, when she was so recently extricating herself from a marriage.
Because he had waited twenty-seven years to tumble back into Bev's life, so what was a few more weeks or months on top of it all? She could have anything, do anything, or even decide that she never wanted him the same way, and Ben would be fine with it. Would be happy enough just to spend time with her, like a starving plant turning towards a long-forgotten sun.
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Date: 2020-11-12 05:04 am (UTC)He wasn't looking at her now either, Bev took a long sip of her wine before she too tried the food. It was good and she didn't want to sound surprised but there was a note of pleasant appreciation after her first bite. "This is really good." She offered from behind a hand to cover the fact she stuffed an entire dumpling in her mouth at once.
It was probably good because she was enjoying herself, she couldn't even remember the last time, before Derry anyway, that she'd spent time with someone because she wanted to. It was upsetting to think how much of her life she'd let Tom control and how she might still be there if it wasn't for Mike's call.
It was just like Ben said, even with all the terrible things that happened back then and more recently, so much good came out of it too. They were all free in their own ways, at least she thought they were. Mike could go on with his life, Richie could be his true self, Bill could write something to a satisfactory ending. She'd gotten away from not just tom but an entire cycle of abuse and Ben had
She didn't know. She was never sure what fears It had preyed on with Ben or what he'd faced. She felt like she should and maybe that was her failure as a friend to not know. "So, what are your plans now that," He was free? It was over? "I guess just now. And are they different than before?"
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Date: 2020-11-12 03:47 pm (UTC)Ben, though—
It was harder to pin down, and he didn't particularly want to think that his entire life revolved around parsing his feelings for Bev. Because it didn't. Instead, Ben's time in Derry had meant...
Remembering that he could have friends. Could be loved. Could be fierce and ferocious and brave. That he didn't have to be alone forever. Remembering a time that he'd bodily thrown himself right at a werewolf as a child, even as it gored him open, and then he'd been ripped open again just a few weeks ago. All of which hardly matched the quiet man people knew him as: a handsome wallflower, but a wallflower nonetheless; Ben always ghosted to the side of the room at parties, never occupying the limelight, never hogging it like Richie did. But that didn't mean he was a coward, or wasn't brave.
And also—
"I want a vacation," he said suddenly, the idea finally coming to him. "I couldn't even tell you the last time I took time off work. We both kinda seem like workaholics. I mean, Richie knows how to party, and Bill somehow figured out the whole functional marriage thing alongside his job, but I haven't done a single thing for years that wasn't work. Not much of a social life either, like I said. So I should fix that. And maybe relax somewhere warm, tropical, for a little while. Maybe try yachting. Have you ever been yachting?"
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From:oh god it's so long i'm so sorry tHERE'S SO MANY FEELINGS
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From:wrap on this one? ♥
From:❤
Date: 2021-08-22 03:51 pm (UTC)Bev!
Bev, Bev, Bev, Bev,Bev, Bev, Bev!!!!!!!!!!!!
Beeeeeevvvvvvvvvvvvv!
Re: ❤
Date: 2021-08-22 04:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-22 04:04 pm (UTC)Image attached
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Date: 2021-08-22 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-22 04:17 pm (UTC)I found her out back all alone and cuddled against some clover.
She's cute, yeah? I named her Leia. You think Eddie will let us keep her?
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Date: 2021-08-22 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-22 04:27 pm (UTC)What? No.
I couldn't just leave her all alone out there. Look at that face!
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Date: 2021-08-22 07:51 pm (UTC)You are a raccoon napper!
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Date: 2021-08-22 08:16 pm (UTC)Nothing.
Raccoon rescuer!
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Date: 2021-08-22 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-08-22 08:46 pm (UTC)🐆🐪🐊🐲🐂🐁🐖🐕🐓🐀🐇🐎🐏🐋🐬🐢🐍🐤🐒
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Date: 2021-08-22 08:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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