“You look really pretty today,” Ben said when the waitress walked away.
Stan smiled. “Thank you. You’re looking pretty too.”
That made Ben laugh. “I have a question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Do you like living at your flat?”
“It’s a roof over my head,” Stan said with a shrug. “I loved my apartment in New York. Even though I had three roommates.”
Ben tucked his foot around Stan’s under the table.
“You did? I didn’t know that. Where were you living?”
“Washington Heights. It’s a nice area. I think one of our friends wants to move in when I move out, so the others won’t be short on rent or anything.”
“We should arrange for you to go back sometime. To visit.”
Stan nodded. “I’d like that.”
“So I got an email today. Well, they sent it a few days ago, but I only read it this morning. The estate agent sold my old flat.”
“Already? That was quick.”
“I told them to price it stupidly low to get rid of it. I have to go to my solicitor and sign some paperwork, but it’s gone.”
“You sound relieved.”
Ben nodded. “I am. That place was a pain in my arse from the moment I bought it. So now I’m almost thirty-two, homeless, and living with my friends again. The more things change….”
“The more they stay the same,” Stan finished for him in a quiet murmur. “It’s funny how life can go in circles.”
“Yeah. I’m going to start looking for somewhere, I think.”
“Oh, no,” Stan said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “This isn’t where you tell me you want to move to the countryside and get a little cottage and start raising chickens and goats, is it? Because I am not cut out for livestock, Ben.”
It took Ben a long time to stop laughing. “I’m pretty sure there are people in London who have chickens.”
“Those people are not our friends,” Stan said seriously.
“I was thinking we could maybe get a cat.”
“I like cats.”
“Me too. We’d need a garden flat, though. I don’t want something big and obnoxious like the Marylebone place. Just something big enough for both of us. If you want that.”
“Is this a pipe dream?” Stan asked, fiddling with his chopsticks to make them sit flat.
“No. It’s kind of…. I was talking to Greg about our relationship before. We never got to live together, just the two of us. There was always at least four other people breathing down our necks at all times, and I think that probably affected us.”
“Yeah.” Stan nodded. “It was good, at the start, to have the support. But after a while….”
“It was oppressive. I love the guys, I really do, but I don’t really want to live with them. We’re not poor anymore,” he said with a laugh. “If I can figure out how to give us a really nice life together, that would be amazing.”
Stan was thinking, so Ben gave him some space to do that and tried not to let his traitorous, negative thoughts run away from him.
“I’m not saying I don’t like your idea, because I do,” Stan said after a while. “It’s just… this is still very new. Again. And we already spoke about treating it as something new and figuring out if we even work together any more, rather than diving back in and picking up where we left off.”
Ben nodded. “Okay. That’s fair.”
“So yes, to your idea, that sounds good. More than good. I want it too. And I don’t want you to live on your own, because I think that might not be the best thing for you right now. But I also get what you said about being thirty-two and feeling like you’re going backwards.”
“Almost thirty-two,” Ben corrected. Stan rolled his eyes. “I can deal with living with everyone for a while longer. It’s not the end of the world, and it is useful to have all of us close to each other when we’re working on an album. That’s the only reason why we got the house in LA—so we didn’t have to round everyone up every time we wanted to sit down and get some work done.”
“You spend a lot of time with them.”
“Yeah. That’s why we need to have our own houses—because we drive each other fucking crazy,” Ben said with a laugh. “It’s going to be weird, though. I know we’re all probably going to want to work on our own projects next year.”
“And that’s scary,” Stan offered.
“Well, yeah. I’ve pretty much lived in their back pockets for nearly seven years now. I’m trying to figure out if I want to have a solo career, and I’m pretty sure I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He closed his eyes. “It’s hard to explain sometimes. Ares is magic. I’ve said that since we started, when we were still practicing in Sherrie’s basement and in Buck Shot. I don’t want to be someone who’s ignorant or arrogant enough to think that I’m the reason for it rather than just a little part of that magic.”
“You’re pretty magic on your own.”
“Thanks.”
Ben stopped talking when their food was delivered, then tucked in, not realising how hungry he was. That was something else Greg had suggested—getting a food-tracking app, because he was terrible at remembering to eat. At least until his body started sending him hunger cues again.
Sharing sushi with Stan was something they’d done so often before it had become almost boring. Now it wasn’t boring at all. Just sitting opposite Stan, watching him delicately work his chopsticks, filled Ben with a kind of warmth he hadn’t felt in so long.
He understood why Stan was hesitant to dive straight back into a serious relationship—their last one hadn’t exactly ended on a positive note, and there had been a lot of water under the bridge since then.
Ben struggled with keeping anything light, though. Especially when it came to Stan. He felt like he’d stumbled, tripped, and fallen back in love the moment Stan kissed him again. They weren’t rushing or pushing anything, but Ben wanted that happy place back.
When they got home to Camden, it was late and the area around the lock was buzzing with people who had stayed out after work, getting caught in the long summer evenings.
Ben took Stan’s hand as they walked up to the block of flats, then tugged him around the corner before they got to the door.
“I don’t want to kiss you good night in front of Tone,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Stan smiled, his grey eyes sparkling. Ben reached up and tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind Stan’s ear.
Stan put his hands on Ben’s shoulders and leaned up—he was wearing trainers, which put him a little shorter than Ben—and kissed Ben softly. Ben rested his hands on Stan’s hips and swayed into the kiss, closing his eyes and leading them to something sweet and familiar.
“I really like kissing you,” Stan said with a laugh.
“Then we should do more of it.”
That made him laugh again. Ben knew they should move before someone stumbled across them, but he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and kissed the laughter off Stan’s lips.