(no subject)
The Pornstache Has To Die
Ben/Claudia
Rated PG (and the title is probably the most risque part)
In case you haven't seen it...
Claudia sits on the edge of the hotel room bed, eyes narrowed as she studies him. Ben is in the chair a few feet away, undergoing the scrutiny with exceeding patience, though he can't really dim the look of anticipation in his eyes.
Finally she shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry. I just can't do it."
His face falls and she feels a little bad - just a little bit, until she looks at him again, and then she shrugs and stops feeling so bad.
"Why not? Come on, it's not that bad-"
"Yes, it is." Claudia gives him a pointed look.
"No, it's not! Everyone likes it!"
"Really? Your children? Your children like it?"
"Well, no... I mean, Im almost banned me from her graduation, but... Francesca likes it!"
Wrong thing to say. Definitely the wrong thing to say. Claudia's mouth draws up a little tighter and she stiffens. "Well, why don't you go back home to her and let her tell you how much she likes it some more, then?"
Ben catapults into damage control mode, moving over to the bed and sitting beside her. Claudia shies away but he puts an arm around her shoulder, squeezes. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me-"
"Mentioning your wife when you're out for a rendezvous with your girlfriend? Stupid, really, do you think?" Her voice drips in cold sarcasm. "This is the first time we've had a weekend to ourselves in almost a year, and you can't do this one thing for me?"
She looks over at the razor sitting on the bedside table. It's a nice table. It's a nice room. Ben's trying to make up for busy schedules and families that have to, frustratingly, come first. It's more than a little painful that every time they get together they both feel like they're trying to make up for everything else they can't have.
And she knows it's a bit stubborn to refuse to stay unless he shaves, but it bothers her that she has no say in this - that she has no say in his life, that she hadn't even known he'd had the stupid mustache for apparently months now, because in all that time she hadn't even gotten to see him. Emails, text messages, a few phone calls - but time is sort of a slippery thing for them now and sometimes too much of it can pass before they even realize.
When she looks at him right now he doesn't look like the same person. He looks... older, a little silly, and it's personal aesthetic that she doesn't like it really but it's more that she wants him to look like him. Like the Ben she's used to.
Tears well up in her eyes and she tries desperately to control it but of course he sees. A few months apart doesn't make him able to read her any less.
He looks at her and sighs and she isn't sure if he gets it or he just still really hates seeing her cry, but he reaches over and grabs the razor.
*
Ten minutes later he walks out of the bathroom. He looks sheepish and his face is sort of blotchy from the warm water he'd splashed with but his skin is smooth when she presses her hands against his cheeks and when she kisses him she can smell aftershave. It smells like Ben, and he tastes like Ben, and she feels the happiness bubble inside of her.
"Thank you," she murmurs against his mouth, and then tucks her head against his shoulder and feels his arms around her, in love with this moment and him.
Ben/Claudia
Rated PG (and the title is probably the most risque part)
In case you haven't seen it...
Claudia sits on the edge of the hotel room bed, eyes narrowed as she studies him. Ben is in the chair a few feet away, undergoing the scrutiny with exceeding patience, though he can't really dim the look of anticipation in his eyes.
Finally she shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry. I just can't do it."
His face falls and she feels a little bad - just a little bit, until she looks at him again, and then she shrugs and stops feeling so bad.
"Why not? Come on, it's not that bad-"
"Yes, it is." Claudia gives him a pointed look.
"No, it's not! Everyone likes it!"
"Really? Your children? Your children like it?"
"Well, no... I mean, Im almost banned me from her graduation, but... Francesca likes it!"
Wrong thing to say. Definitely the wrong thing to say. Claudia's mouth draws up a little tighter and she stiffens. "Well, why don't you go back home to her and let her tell you how much she likes it some more, then?"
Ben catapults into damage control mode, moving over to the bed and sitting beside her. Claudia shies away but he puts an arm around her shoulder, squeezes. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me-"
"Mentioning your wife when you're out for a rendezvous with your girlfriend? Stupid, really, do you think?" Her voice drips in cold sarcasm. "This is the first time we've had a weekend to ourselves in almost a year, and you can't do this one thing for me?"
She looks over at the razor sitting on the bedside table. It's a nice table. It's a nice room. Ben's trying to make up for busy schedules and families that have to, frustratingly, come first. It's more than a little painful that every time they get together they both feel like they're trying to make up for everything else they can't have.
And she knows it's a bit stubborn to refuse to stay unless he shaves, but it bothers her that she has no say in this - that she has no say in his life, that she hadn't even known he'd had the stupid mustache for apparently months now, because in all that time she hadn't even gotten to see him. Emails, text messages, a few phone calls - but time is sort of a slippery thing for them now and sometimes too much of it can pass before they even realize.
When she looks at him right now he doesn't look like the same person. He looks... older, a little silly, and it's personal aesthetic that she doesn't like it really but it's more that she wants him to look like him. Like the Ben she's used to.
Tears well up in her eyes and she tries desperately to control it but of course he sees. A few months apart doesn't make him able to read her any less.
He looks at her and sighs and she isn't sure if he gets it or he just still really hates seeing her cry, but he reaches over and grabs the razor.
*
Ten minutes later he walks out of the bathroom. He looks sheepish and his face is sort of blotchy from the warm water he'd splashed with but his skin is smooth when she presses her hands against his cheeks and when she kisses him she can smell aftershave. It smells like Ben, and he tastes like Ben, and she feels the happiness bubble inside of her.
"Thank you," she murmurs against his mouth, and then tucks her head against his shoulder and feels his arms around her, in love with this moment and him.