“You could wear that,” Ben called after him.
“No, I couldn’t,” Stan sang back.
Ben just liked his ass in yoga pants. Stan was okay with that.
He’d always felt bold when he was with Ben, like the opinions and disdain of others failed to penetrate the bubble they created of the two of them together. The bubble had burst a long time ago and Stan knew that he did care about what other people thought, maybe more than he should.
He wanted to see if he could be bold again.
Stan took the yoga pants off and pulled on a pair of ripped black skinny jeans that fit him perfectly and always gave him a little boost of confidence. Since it was going to be warm outside today, he picked an oversized white-and-grey-striped T-shirt that hung off his shoulders, and got his strappy sandal heels out of the wardrobe ready.
Since their trip to Harrods, Stan had stocked up on his favourite makeup brands and had started experimenting a little again.
Firstly, he filled in his eyebrows with a colour a little darker than his natural hair colour, because he wanted the definition. In the summer he usually wore brown mascara, instead of black, because it just worked better, and a bronzer instead of blush to give definition to his cheekbones.
Stan was lucky that his skin tone was pretty even, so he didn’t wear foundation on a day-to-day basis unless he was really going for it with a full face of makeup. This was enough to make him feel confident though, a little edgy and a lot sexier.
Since his hair had already mostly dried from the shower, he scrunched some product through it to give it some texture and shape. He finished the look with a delicate gold necklace, a few gold rings, and the sandals.
When he walked back to the kitchen, Ben had switched his joggers for black jeans and put on what was likely a clean T-shirt. And messed some stuff through his hair. He’d brought a backpack with him when he came over last night, so Stan guessed the clean clothes had been in there, but he was pretty sure whatever hair products Ben had been using came from Stan’s supply. Not that Stan really minded.
Ben looked up when Stan walked in and his face slowly lit up as he took in Stan’s outfit.
“There you are,” he said.
Chapter Sixteen
For a few days, Ben floated along in a haze of good sex hormones that were almost certainly driving Tone crazy. He didn’t have sex with Stan again—even though he wanted to. He knew this was part of Stan’s directive to not rush anything, and he respected that; he totally did. But being with Stan was like someone turning on a dusty old switch in his heart, reminding him what it felt like to love someone. It felt like running a marathon after not exercising for a year. Everything ached.
Instead of all the incredible sex they could have been having, Ben spent hours researching dates. He booked after-hours events at museums, dinner at chef’s tables in restaurant kitchens, private boxes at the theatre to watch plays. He was going overboard and he knew it, but Stan seemed alternately charmed and bemused by the whole thing, so Ben kept going.
He was sticking to Stan’s vaguely defined rules and figuring out if they could make this relationship work today. The more time they spent together, the surer he was that it was going to be good. Not just now, but for a long time to come.
That Stan liked to dress up when Ben took him out was a very appreciated side benefit.
“You look great,” Ben murmured, smoothing his hand down Stan’s arm. He was wearing a dress again, this one loose and voluminous in some kind of textured chiffon material. Stan didn’t often wear a lot of yellow, but this looked amazing on him.
“Thanks,” Stan said. He leaned over and gave Ben a kiss. “Where are we going today?”
“Just walking, I think. We might find something interesting on the way.”
“That sounds nice.” Stan reached for Ben’s hand. That was a new thing, holding hands in public again.
When they got outside, Stan tipped his sunglasses down from where they’d been perched on his head onto his nose. Ben copied the gesture, even though it wasn’t that bright outside.
They headed north, farther out of the city, taking the scenic route towards Primrose Hill. For a while they just walked in silence. Ben basked in it. He’d always appreciated being able to be quiet with someone, and Stan was good at it.
Then Stan said something that upset everything.
“I need to go back to New York.”
Ben panicked. “Forever?”
“No, not forever.” Stan smiled at him, his expression fond. “I need to bring back the rest of my stuff and have a few handover meetings at work. Say goodbye to my roommates. Things like that.”
“Oh.” Ben was still panicking. “How long will you be?”
Stan fidgeted for a moment. “Maybe a week? Or less than that. A week at most.”
“Okay.” Ben nodded. “Okay.”
“I’m moving back to London,” Stan said. “It’s going to take time to figure that out logistically. I have EU citizenship, so that’s not a problem, but I still have to register my business and sort out what happens with my US work visa and all of that stuff.”
“No, I understand,” Ben said, even though he wanted to be selfish and beg Stan not to go. “Just… text me or something? Let me know you’re okay?”
“Of course I will.” He stepped up close and kissed Ben, just a light brush of lips on lips. That was new too, being openly affectionate in public. “I’m not going right away. I just needed to tell you that it’s going to have to happen.”
“Can I come with you?”
Stan shook his head slowly and started walking again, tugging Ben along with him. “No, sweetheart. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re doing so well here. And I’m going to be busy when I’m there, so I won’t be able to be with you all the time.”
“Babysit me, you mean.”
“Ben. Please don’t be upset. I want you to stay here and spend time with Tone. Summer and the boys will be back soon. You need to catch up with them, too, have some of those conversations.”
“I know you’re right, and I know I’m being irrational.”
That made Stan laugh.
“I still don’t want you to go, though.”
“Honestly, I’m not excited for it. But it’s important.”
“I know.” Ben sighed, and when they stopped to wait for a light to change so they could cross the road, he looked over at Stan properly. He seemed resigned. A little sad. “I’ll be fine.”
Stan booked his flight and left two days later, giving Ben enough time to get used to the idea and not long enough for him to get stressed. His thoughts tended to spiral, and that wasn’t good, especially when his main coping mechanism for his brain not shutting the hell up was a boatload of drugs.
Tone had already swept the house to make sure there wasn’t anything hanging about. He now had a massive stash of weed in his bedroom and seemed immensely pleased about this.
Since arriving back in London Ben hadn’t exactly been a social butterfly, but with Stan gone, he stuck to his bedroom more than ever. He kind of understood Stan’s reaction to the room, now that he’d moved back in. It was weird. There wasn’t any other way to describe it. Some wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey shit was going down.