[66.6] Can I ask you something?
[Ben = mini_dean is used with permission. Mun requested a future fic with the word, "awesome." Sam = likes_cameras and referenced with permission.]
"Devon, you have a drop-in," Eleanor said, her face clearly still too close to the speaker. Devon laughed at that fact before his finger came to the reply button.
"Who is it, Elly?" he asked, eyes back onto his laptop. He even managed to type a few more sentences before she spoke again.
"A Ben Braeden." She really needed to learn that even when she sat back he could hear her loud and clear. But, whatever. Nevertheless, a smile came to Devon's lips along with a slight expression of mischief.
"Send him in."
There was no knock but Devon wasn't waiting for one. Instead, he was already up and halfway to the door. Ben was in the doorway now. He looked good. Older. They all did, really and that was scary. He even resembled Andy - somewhat, anyway.
"Ben," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "What is it I can do for you? Need a little therapy?" To this Ben laughed outright, giving Devon his "seriously?" eyes. "Well, you couldn't afford me, anyway."
Devon went for a handshake but Ben came in for a friendly guy-embrace. At least, that was how Devon had to view it. For all intents and purposes, Devon had well, a husband now and so, hugging another guy was a guy-hug and not a guy hug.
"Hey, Ben," he finally said. "You okay?"
"I'm great, dude," Ben replied, breaking the hug - thank...everything. "I'm awesome."
"That I'm not surprised about," he replied, crossing his arms. He walked over to his couch and sat back into it, Ben choosing to peruse his desk and office in general.
"So, a therapist," he said, eyes everywhere. Devon felt a little violated. "What, you're gonna' shrink my head now?"
"Yes, I'm from a small African tribe that does just that."
"You know what I mean," he replied, settling at the corner of Devon's desk. He was content to lean against it or so that was how Devon had interpreted it. He really needed to stop psychoanalyzing his friends. It was not his job. "So, I was on my way through California and I couldn't not stop in," he said, smiling.
"Clearly." Devon crossed his legs and folded his hands, watching the other man with curiosity. "You look good."
"I look awesome." Devon laughed again. It was refreshing today. Laughing. Some of his patients were so down. "I guess...one'a your clients was outside there, sitting -- singing to themselves."
"Theme song," Devon said.
"Theme song?"
"Some people, who feel overwhelmed or down or just brought down in general do well with a theme song. They just think of it and they feel better. Theme songs have to be upbeat. That, or they're thinking of a song that trivializes something that really bothers them."
"Wow...you're really..."
"Yeah," he replied, nodding. "I am...really. God, Ben, it's been so -- Shit."
"Yeah." Ben nodded along with him. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Did you ever..." A moment passed and Devon leaned in slightly, waiting for an end to the sentence. "...really consider those awesome classes?"
"Yeah." Lie. "I did. I mean, not...really, but we're in L.A. right now - anybody who wanted to be 'that' would've -- yeah, I did. Not professionally but if I were younger..." And not with a husband he loved -- "It woulda' been a cool way to scam money..."
Ben laughed again, nodding.
"Yeah, it wouldn't have been...on the up and up."
"No." Devon agreed with a smile. "Is...that all?" For a moment, Devon anticipated something deeper, something not trivial, something not awesome.
"Yep," Ben said, standing up again. The moment of weight had passed. "Passing through, wanted to see an old friend and his...very attractive secretary. Is her head supposed to be that close to the phone system?"
The both of them shared a laugh then as Devon brought his hand to his forehead.
"What am I going to do with her?..."
"Devon, you have a drop-in," Eleanor said, her face clearly still too close to the speaker. Devon laughed at that fact before his finger came to the reply button.
"Who is it, Elly?" he asked, eyes back onto his laptop. He even managed to type a few more sentences before she spoke again.
"A Ben Braeden." She really needed to learn that even when she sat back he could hear her loud and clear. But, whatever. Nevertheless, a smile came to Devon's lips along with a slight expression of mischief.
"Send him in."
There was no knock but Devon wasn't waiting for one. Instead, he was already up and halfway to the door. Ben was in the doorway now. He looked good. Older. They all did, really and that was scary. He even resembled Andy - somewhat, anyway.
"Ben," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "What is it I can do for you? Need a little therapy?" To this Ben laughed outright, giving Devon his "seriously?" eyes. "Well, you couldn't afford me, anyway."
Devon went for a handshake but Ben came in for a friendly guy-embrace. At least, that was how Devon had to view it. For all intents and purposes, Devon had well, a husband now and so, hugging another guy was a guy-hug and not a guy hug.
"Hey, Ben," he finally said. "You okay?"
"I'm great, dude," Ben replied, breaking the hug - thank...everything. "I'm awesome."
"That I'm not surprised about," he replied, crossing his arms. He walked over to his couch and sat back into it, Ben choosing to peruse his desk and office in general.
"So, a therapist," he said, eyes everywhere. Devon felt a little violated. "What, you're gonna' shrink my head now?"
"Yes, I'm from a small African tribe that does just that."
"You know what I mean," he replied, settling at the corner of Devon's desk. He was content to lean against it or so that was how Devon had interpreted it. He really needed to stop psychoanalyzing his friends. It was not his job. "So, I was on my way through California and I couldn't not stop in," he said, smiling.
"Clearly." Devon crossed his legs and folded his hands, watching the other man with curiosity. "You look good."
"I look awesome." Devon laughed again. It was refreshing today. Laughing. Some of his patients were so down. "I guess...one'a your clients was outside there, sitting -- singing to themselves."
"Theme song," Devon said.
"Theme song?"
"Some people, who feel overwhelmed or down or just brought down in general do well with a theme song. They just think of it and they feel better. Theme songs have to be upbeat. That, or they're thinking of a song that trivializes something that really bothers them."
"Wow...you're really..."
"Yeah," he replied, nodding. "I am...really. God, Ben, it's been so -- Shit."
"Yeah." Ben nodded along with him. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Did you ever..." A moment passed and Devon leaned in slightly, waiting for an end to the sentence. "...really consider those awesome classes?"
"Yeah." Lie. "I did. I mean, not...really, but we're in L.A. right now - anybody who wanted to be 'that' would've -- yeah, I did. Not professionally but if I were younger..." And not with a husband he loved -- "It woulda' been a cool way to scam money..."
Ben laughed again, nodding.
"Yeah, it wouldn't have been...on the up and up."
"No." Devon agreed with a smile. "Is...that all?" For a moment, Devon anticipated something deeper, something not trivial, something not awesome.
"Yep," Ben said, standing up again. The moment of weight had passed. "Passing through, wanted to see an old friend and his...very attractive secretary. Is her head supposed to be that close to the phone system?"
The both of them shared a laugh then as Devon brought his hand to his forehead.
"What am I going to do with her?..."