Fic: RPF: Midnight Waves.
Title: Midnight Waves.
Author: cloudysky
Fandom: Narnia
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,072.
Summary: A phone call from an old friend late one Friday night ends up leading to an awful lot more than Ben bargained for.
A/N: The beginning of this is set in January a few days before Ben headed over to Dublin to start work on Killing Bono, fyi.
Midnight Waves
Ben has never really understood why London falls into chaos the moment so much as a single snowflake is spotted drifting down from the cloudy sky above. This week, things are especially chaotic and he isn’t in the mood for it if he’s to be honest. He’s spent the majority of the week doing promo for the DVD release of Dorian Gray and what little is left eating, sleeping and going over lines for his next film.
When he receives a phone call late on Friday night from a number he doesn’t recognise, he almost picks up, tells them to go fuck themselves and flings the handset as far as it will fly. As it turns out, he manages to resist temptation and finds Will on the other end of the line announcing that he has a new number and thought he’d call instead of texting.
Ben falls easily into the conversation and soon finds himself tossing his script aside in favour of sinking down further onto the couch and laughing raucously long into the night. They haven’t spoken for months. It’s no one’s fault exactly, just life getting in the way as usual and time running away with itself. When they do talk though, things are always the same. Will makes him laugh, that’s the long and the short of it, and he never really realises how much he misses the younger man until he creeps back into his life.
It’s getting on for one a.m. when Will suggests meeting up for coffee, but Ben agrees anyway and bundles up, heading out into the cold. He hails a taxi and makes it to the coffee shop in Covent Garden fifteen minutes later, pushing open the door and stumbling into the inviting warmth. He’s never been so thankful for twenty-four hour café’s in his life.
Will is already waiting for him, curled up on one of the large squishy sofas with an oversized mug clutched in his hands. Ben offers a bright smile upon spotting him before rushing over to join his friend as soon as he’s grabbed a drink for himself, too.
‘I’m so glad I’m here and not hauled up in my flat,’ he admits as he settles down beside Will. ‘Was in desperate need of a break.’
Will chuckles, leaning forward to place his coffee down and embracing Ben in a friendly hug, greeting him like the old friend he is. ‘I figured. You were starting to sound hysterical on the phone,’ he responds without missing a beat. ‘Quite funny really.’
‘Hysterical?’ his voice is doubtful and he laughs.
‘Oh yeah. Very.’ A smirk and a smile accompany the declaration. ‘You remember that day when Georgie kept screwing up all of her lines…?’
Ben thinks about it, remembers, and then hangs his head in shame as the true laughter escapes him. ‘I really hope I’m not that bad!’ he blurts out frankly.
‘Not quite. Pretty close though. Give or take a hormone or two.’ Will’s playing and he’s extremely well practised at it, too.
Leaning back on the couch, Ben pulls a leg up and rests his chin on his knee as he looks over at Will. He curls his hands around his coffee mug, letting it warm them and a soft smile is soon gracing his features. ‘You’re a complete twat, you know that right?’ he murmurs.
Will shrugs and fails to hide his grin. ‘But you love it,’ he chides.
There’s no point arguing really because Ben does love being teased - by Will at least. It annoys him when anyone else does it, but his friend can get away with it pretty easily. He finds it quite endearing, which he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself anymore.
‘Don’t make me hit you,’ Ben says with a grin, his gaze settling on the younger man briefly before he turns his attention to his coffee.
They sit in silence mostly - the comfortable kind - and Will tells him what he’s been doing and about the new house he’s bought. He says that he wants to move to America, that the UK is suffocating him at the moment and he needs to escape. Ben won’t lie; he sometimes feels the same way. He would be able to hide away a little more over there, bury his head in the sand and pretend to be someone ordinary for a day or two. He’d kill for that.
By three a.m. the girl behind the counter has practically dozed off with her nose stuck in a battered copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. She’s leant against the counter, eyes drooping and her book slipping from her fingertips. Several seconds later the book finally falls from her hand and hits with counter with a loud thwack. She blinks and jumps back, cheeks flaming red as she realises what happened.
Ben watches it all from his spot on the other side of the café, while Will offers running commentary in his ear and a warm hand placed to his thigh. He’s paying more attention to Will’s voice than he is the girl’s actions, the words flowing into one another like folds in silk. He’s always enjoyed listening to Will talk and today is no exception.
‘Did you want to head home soon?’
He blinks, the chatter has stopped and become more serious. ‘Home?’ he repeats, turning his head to look at Will and finding him several inches closer than he expected. He almost leaps back, but somehow manages to restrain himself from doing anything ridiculous and adds, ‘Are you coming with me?’
‘Do you want me to?’ asks Will and Ben knows from the tone of the question alone that it’s a loaded one.
Placing his mug down, he lifts his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug and pulls his coat back on. ‘Up to you really, it’s getting on for four now and my place is closer than yours. There’s a settee going spare if you want it.’
Will continues to gaze up at him for several long moments before he inevitably follows, threading his scarf into some kind of intricate knot as they make their way back out into the cold. The snow has just about stopped now and as they walk along the street, they leave fresh tracks, zigzagging back and forth.
To anyone on the outside looking in, they could almost be drunk. They stager along, clinging onto one another, laughing the whole way home. Ben could get used to this, without question, but he doesn’t want to admit it just yet to his friend. That would be one step too far.
A little after four a.m. they reach Ben’s building and he buzzes them in, jogging up two flights of stairs before catching hold of Will’s arm and whirling him into the wall. He steps in close, his breathing shallow from running, and then leans in to press their lips together. The kiss is frantic yet hesitant, desperate yet tender… and Will returns it without question as Ben fumbles about to unlock the door behind them.
Seconds later they’ve fallen into the hallway, tripping over the mat and giggling their way further into the flat. Will reaches out quickly to close the door, shutting out anyone who might intrude on their time together.
The second the door slams shut, Ben has him pressed up against the wall again, their lips and tongues locked in a feverish duel. He’s barely thought about any of it since stepping into the building, driven by the want alone as he grips Will’s shirt and pulls him into the living room, pushing him down onto the mat in front of the fireplace.
The whys and the wherefores are unimportant now.
His breathing is hard, laboured, as he fumbles with his belt buckle and the fastenings of his jeans. He wants to savour this, yet at the same time, is desperate to feel the younger man beneath him and every second he’s not touching his friend is a second wasted as far as he’s concerned. Will glances back at him once, questioningly, but then gives in and begins shedding his clothing just as quick, if not quicker.
Ben slicks his fingers with saliva - in too much of a hurry to go racing to the bedroom and grab anything else - before sinking them into warm, inviting heat. He groans out loud at the feel of Will surrounding him, eyes falling closed for a moment. When he regains his composure, he takes it slow, pumping his digits as orchestrated by Will’s soft sighs of contentment. It isn’t long though until he’s received gentle instruction to stop and instead buries his cock to the hilt, moaning out in pleasant surprise. He’s waited years for this and it’s so much better than he imagined.
His thrusts are erratic, there’s no rhythm to them, yet Will makes this encouraging little whimper each time he sinks back in. Ben smiles through the blind ecstasy, one hand sliding around to please the younger man while the other grips the back of his shirt tightly, knuckles going white.
It doesn’t last long, their coupling is over in a few minutes and they collapse into a heap of tangled limbs just in time to hear the soft dong of Big Ben in the distance informing them it’s turned half past. Ben lays his cheek against Will’s back, loosing his shirt as reality begins to hit.
They’re silent for a long time in the end, regaining their bearings, their breathing and their dignity.
Ben wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what, so lets Will have some space and uses his clean hand to make a grab for the couch and pull himself to standing. He could quite easily collapse there and not move again, but quickly decides against it.
‘Sorry,’ he mutters a moment later, eyes down as he dresses himself and begins the long walk to the bathroom.
Another silence follows and then Will laughs from behind him. ‘You’re sorry?’ he questions, although is voice is so quiet it’s almost lost amongst the sound of rustling fabric.
Ben stops in the doorway and rests his forehead against the doorjamb. A heavy sigh escapes him as he admits, ‘No… not even slightly.’
‘Why say it then?’
He doesn’t know the answer to that, it simply felt like the right thing to do in the moment and now he’s not so sure. ‘Just in case it needed saying,’ he whispers, his gaze dropping down to his damp and crumpled clothes. He looks a mess now, but he doesn’t regret it, not one single second.
Will sighs, although he doesn’t sound annoyed. ‘I’ve been flirting with you all night, a sorry is the last thing I want to hear,’ he whispers.
Laughing lightly, Ben glances back into the living room and offers the younger man a hesitant smile. ‘Coffee maybe? After I’ve cleaned up a little?’
‘I can make it!’ Will scrambles to his feet, tripping over Ben’s shoes just as he realises his jeans are still around his ankles. He lands back on the rug in a heap and begins to laugh. ‘Umm… black, right?’
‘Sure, black’ll be fine.’ He’s smiling to himself, his words easy as he slips into the bathroom and pushes the door closed behind him. He has no idea why he’s trying to be such a good host right now, they’ve already shagged, it’s not as though he’s trying to get Will into bed.
By the time Ben’s washed up and headed back into the main room though, he finds Will stood awkwardly beside the couch with a mug in each hand. He raises an eyebrow and laughs as he takes the black coffee in his right, murmuring softly, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so lost for words, normally I can’t shut you up.’
Will shrugs and leans against the couch. ‘You took me by surprise…’
‘That’s a first.’ He smiles, sips his coffee, and then cocks his head in the direction of his bedroom. ‘I know I said you could sleep on the settee, but there’s space in my bed, too… if you like.’
Silence, followed by a soft snigger and Will’s brushed past him without saying a word several seconds later.
‘I’ll take that as a yes then…’
Ben exhales slowly before abandoning his mug on the side and following without a second thought.
.x.
Author: cloudysky
Fandom: Narnia
Pairing: Ben Barnes/William Moseley.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: Real person slash.
Word count: 2,072.
Summary: A phone call from an old friend late one Friday night ends up leading to an awful lot more than Ben bargained for.
A/N: The beginning of this is set in January a few days before Ben headed over to Dublin to start work on Killing Bono, fyi.
Midnight Waves
Ben has never really understood why London falls into chaos the moment so much as a single snowflake is spotted drifting down from the cloudy sky above. This week, things are especially chaotic and he isn’t in the mood for it if he’s to be honest. He’s spent the majority of the week doing promo for the DVD release of Dorian Gray and what little is left eating, sleeping and going over lines for his next film.
When he receives a phone call late on Friday night from a number he doesn’t recognise, he almost picks up, tells them to go fuck themselves and flings the handset as far as it will fly. As it turns out, he manages to resist temptation and finds Will on the other end of the line announcing that he has a new number and thought he’d call instead of texting.
Ben falls easily into the conversation and soon finds himself tossing his script aside in favour of sinking down further onto the couch and laughing raucously long into the night. They haven’t spoken for months. It’s no one’s fault exactly, just life getting in the way as usual and time running away with itself. When they do talk though, things are always the same. Will makes him laugh, that’s the long and the short of it, and he never really realises how much he misses the younger man until he creeps back into his life.
It’s getting on for one a.m. when Will suggests meeting up for coffee, but Ben agrees anyway and bundles up, heading out into the cold. He hails a taxi and makes it to the coffee shop in Covent Garden fifteen minutes later, pushing open the door and stumbling into the inviting warmth. He’s never been so thankful for twenty-four hour café’s in his life.
Will is already waiting for him, curled up on one of the large squishy sofas with an oversized mug clutched in his hands. Ben offers a bright smile upon spotting him before rushing over to join his friend as soon as he’s grabbed a drink for himself, too.
‘I’m so glad I’m here and not hauled up in my flat,’ he admits as he settles down beside Will. ‘Was in desperate need of a break.’
Will chuckles, leaning forward to place his coffee down and embracing Ben in a friendly hug, greeting him like the old friend he is. ‘I figured. You were starting to sound hysterical on the phone,’ he responds without missing a beat. ‘Quite funny really.’
‘Hysterical?’ his voice is doubtful and he laughs.
‘Oh yeah. Very.’ A smirk and a smile accompany the declaration. ‘You remember that day when Georgie kept screwing up all of her lines…?’
Ben thinks about it, remembers, and then hangs his head in shame as the true laughter escapes him. ‘I really hope I’m not that bad!’ he blurts out frankly.
‘Not quite. Pretty close though. Give or take a hormone or two.’ Will’s playing and he’s extremely well practised at it, too.
Leaning back on the couch, Ben pulls a leg up and rests his chin on his knee as he looks over at Will. He curls his hands around his coffee mug, letting it warm them and a soft smile is soon gracing his features. ‘You’re a complete twat, you know that right?’ he murmurs.
Will shrugs and fails to hide his grin. ‘But you love it,’ he chides.
There’s no point arguing really because Ben does love being teased - by Will at least. It annoys him when anyone else does it, but his friend can get away with it pretty easily. He finds it quite endearing, which he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself anymore.
‘Don’t make me hit you,’ Ben says with a grin, his gaze settling on the younger man briefly before he turns his attention to his coffee.
They sit in silence mostly - the comfortable kind - and Will tells him what he’s been doing and about the new house he’s bought. He says that he wants to move to America, that the UK is suffocating him at the moment and he needs to escape. Ben won’t lie; he sometimes feels the same way. He would be able to hide away a little more over there, bury his head in the sand and pretend to be someone ordinary for a day or two. He’d kill for that.
By three a.m. the girl behind the counter has practically dozed off with her nose stuck in a battered copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. She’s leant against the counter, eyes drooping and her book slipping from her fingertips. Several seconds later the book finally falls from her hand and hits with counter with a loud thwack. She blinks and jumps back, cheeks flaming red as she realises what happened.
Ben watches it all from his spot on the other side of the café, while Will offers running commentary in his ear and a warm hand placed to his thigh. He’s paying more attention to Will’s voice than he is the girl’s actions, the words flowing into one another like folds in silk. He’s always enjoyed listening to Will talk and today is no exception.
‘Did you want to head home soon?’
He blinks, the chatter has stopped and become more serious. ‘Home?’ he repeats, turning his head to look at Will and finding him several inches closer than he expected. He almost leaps back, but somehow manages to restrain himself from doing anything ridiculous and adds, ‘Are you coming with me?’
‘Do you want me to?’ asks Will and Ben knows from the tone of the question alone that it’s a loaded one.
Placing his mug down, he lifts his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug and pulls his coat back on. ‘Up to you really, it’s getting on for four now and my place is closer than yours. There’s a settee going spare if you want it.’
Will continues to gaze up at him for several long moments before he inevitably follows, threading his scarf into some kind of intricate knot as they make their way back out into the cold. The snow has just about stopped now and as they walk along the street, they leave fresh tracks, zigzagging back and forth.
To anyone on the outside looking in, they could almost be drunk. They stager along, clinging onto one another, laughing the whole way home. Ben could get used to this, without question, but he doesn’t want to admit it just yet to his friend. That would be one step too far.
A little after four a.m. they reach Ben’s building and he buzzes them in, jogging up two flights of stairs before catching hold of Will’s arm and whirling him into the wall. He steps in close, his breathing shallow from running, and then leans in to press their lips together. The kiss is frantic yet hesitant, desperate yet tender… and Will returns it without question as Ben fumbles about to unlock the door behind them.
Seconds later they’ve fallen into the hallway, tripping over the mat and giggling their way further into the flat. Will reaches out quickly to close the door, shutting out anyone who might intrude on their time together.
The second the door slams shut, Ben has him pressed up against the wall again, their lips and tongues locked in a feverish duel. He’s barely thought about any of it since stepping into the building, driven by the want alone as he grips Will’s shirt and pulls him into the living room, pushing him down onto the mat in front of the fireplace.
The whys and the wherefores are unimportant now.
His breathing is hard, laboured, as he fumbles with his belt buckle and the fastenings of his jeans. He wants to savour this, yet at the same time, is desperate to feel the younger man beneath him and every second he’s not touching his friend is a second wasted as far as he’s concerned. Will glances back at him once, questioningly, but then gives in and begins shedding his clothing just as quick, if not quicker.
Ben slicks his fingers with saliva - in too much of a hurry to go racing to the bedroom and grab anything else - before sinking them into warm, inviting heat. He groans out loud at the feel of Will surrounding him, eyes falling closed for a moment. When he regains his composure, he takes it slow, pumping his digits as orchestrated by Will’s soft sighs of contentment. It isn’t long though until he’s received gentle instruction to stop and instead buries his cock to the hilt, moaning out in pleasant surprise. He’s waited years for this and it’s so much better than he imagined.
His thrusts are erratic, there’s no rhythm to them, yet Will makes this encouraging little whimper each time he sinks back in. Ben smiles through the blind ecstasy, one hand sliding around to please the younger man while the other grips the back of his shirt tightly, knuckles going white.
It doesn’t last long, their coupling is over in a few minutes and they collapse into a heap of tangled limbs just in time to hear the soft dong of Big Ben in the distance informing them it’s turned half past. Ben lays his cheek against Will’s back, loosing his shirt as reality begins to hit.
They’re silent for a long time in the end, regaining their bearings, their breathing and their dignity.
Ben wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what, so lets Will have some space and uses his clean hand to make a grab for the couch and pull himself to standing. He could quite easily collapse there and not move again, but quickly decides against it.
‘Sorry,’ he mutters a moment later, eyes down as he dresses himself and begins the long walk to the bathroom.
Another silence follows and then Will laughs from behind him. ‘You’re sorry?’ he questions, although is voice is so quiet it’s almost lost amongst the sound of rustling fabric.
Ben stops in the doorway and rests his forehead against the doorjamb. A heavy sigh escapes him as he admits, ‘No… not even slightly.’
‘Why say it then?’
He doesn’t know the answer to that, it simply felt like the right thing to do in the moment and now he’s not so sure. ‘Just in case it needed saying,’ he whispers, his gaze dropping down to his damp and crumpled clothes. He looks a mess now, but he doesn’t regret it, not one single second.
Will sighs, although he doesn’t sound annoyed. ‘I’ve been flirting with you all night, a sorry is the last thing I want to hear,’ he whispers.
Laughing lightly, Ben glances back into the living room and offers the younger man a hesitant smile. ‘Coffee maybe? After I’ve cleaned up a little?’
‘I can make it!’ Will scrambles to his feet, tripping over Ben’s shoes just as he realises his jeans are still around his ankles. He lands back on the rug in a heap and begins to laugh. ‘Umm… black, right?’
‘Sure, black’ll be fine.’ He’s smiling to himself, his words easy as he slips into the bathroom and pushes the door closed behind him. He has no idea why he’s trying to be such a good host right now, they’ve already shagged, it’s not as though he’s trying to get Will into bed.
By the time Ben’s washed up and headed back into the main room though, he finds Will stood awkwardly beside the couch with a mug in each hand. He raises an eyebrow and laughs as he takes the black coffee in his right, murmuring softly, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so lost for words, normally I can’t shut you up.’
Will shrugs and leans against the couch. ‘You took me by surprise…’
‘That’s a first.’ He smiles, sips his coffee, and then cocks his head in the direction of his bedroom. ‘I know I said you could sleep on the settee, but there’s space in my bed, too… if you like.’
Silence, followed by a soft snigger and Will’s brushed past him without saying a word several seconds later.
‘I’ll take that as a yes then…’
Ben exhales slowly before abandoning his mug on the side and following without a second thought.
.x.