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Much like a true Englishman at the first sight of sun – Benji was enjoying (suffering) the current sunshine completely shirtless, as if daring the sun to sizzle and crisp his pale skin into a painful state of redness.
In his defence, his shirt had not been removed by choice. Instead, he had ripped it off in a moment of panic after it had been splattered by a particularly inconsiderate bird flying overhead who had decided to poop directly above where Benji was relaxing on a sun lounger. As soon as the splat had registered, Benji tore the shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the grass at his feet.
Benji and Ethan were relaxing in the former’s small garden, taking pleasure in a rare day off that they were able to share thanks to returning from a successful mission and having the same allotted recovery time. It had become an unspoken ritual of theirs that, if they were permitted to take time away from the IMF after a team mission, they would spend it together at Benji’s place. Even when it was only Ethan that had been away for a mission, he still consistently found himself coming to Benji’s apartment to rest up with his friend.
They would cook together, nap together, change bandages for each other, practice at-home physiotherapy together, go for walks together, and generally find a sense of familiarity and comfort in the presence of one another that had initially developed in the workplace.
Benji had even begun to slip a few movie and game nights in occasionally, determined as he was to bring Ethan into the modern age via science fiction films and cult classics. Ethan had returned the favour by taking Benji rock climbing and encouraging him to become more comfortable in his own kitchen. Ethan had picked up a surprising amount of domestic skills as a youngster on his family’s farm, likely enhanced by his time with Julia (even if that lifestyle had ultimately proven unsustainable).
Benji had learned that Ethan was terrible at Mario Kart, and Ethan had learned that Benji couldn’t correctly dice an onion to save his life. It had been a brilliant learning curve to date.
The pair were currently enjoying a few beers (a few being one or two, given that Ethan rarely drank alcohol, and Benji was not a fan of American beer) in the garden, sharing book recommendations and allowing the heat of summer to ease their overworked muscles. Benji had intended to do something about his shat-on shirt and bare chest, but he and Ethan had spent so long childishly giggling about the whole affair that he had returned to his sun lounger without getting a new shirt from inside. It was only after a few moments of relaxing that he noticed Ethan staring at him from the seat neighbouring his own.
“What?”
Ethan was turned on his side, eyes taking in the art over Benji’s arms. “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”
Benji glanced down to his own arms. “You didn’t? I mean, I suppose you’ve never had reason to see me without a shirt on. So far, I have tried to keep them in places where they can be hidden by short-sleeved shirts. There’s a few more on my legs, since shorts on the job are less common. But. Yeah.”
Benji shrugged, self-consciously scratching as his arm for a moment before he shook off the feeling of being scrutinised. That wasn’t what Ethan was doing, and Benji had nothing to be insecure of; that’s what he continued to internally repeat to himself, at least, as he registered the way that Ethan’s eyes roamed over his bare chest. It was a little more attentive than that of a casual friend.
“It’s rare to see tattoos on an agent. They were common in the army, of course, but we were barely out of our teenage years then and the tattoos my fellow recruits were getting were not exactly. . . Good. I never got one.”
“Oh, the first tattoo you get as a teenager is always shitty – I think that’s the rule.” Benji snorted a laugh. “Or maybe I just want to feel better about mine. It was a smudged line of code on my arm, right here,” He tapped his shoulder area, which was covered in an intricate line-work design of entwined vines, leaves, and flowers with large petals. It was hard to see where text may once have been, but Ethan reasoned it was probably somewhere under one of the thicker lines of a vine, or the centre of some shading in a flower. The piece stretched from the bottom of his shoulder to the edges of Benji’s collar bone.
“The artist did a great job of covering it up for me when I went in for something botanical. She’s done a few of my other pieces too, I’ll take you to her if you ever fancy getting something.”
Benji’s tone was teasing even as the offer was sincere, but Ethan raised an eyebrow and shook his head as he laughed at the idea.“I won’t say never, but I can’t see it happening for me anywhere in the near future. What are those skeletons from?” Ethan asked next, indicating to a line of gladiator-style skeletons underneath the botanical shoulder piece.
“Oh, they’re Harryhausen’s!” Benji grinned, looking at his three skeletons brandishing swords in a row. “They’re skeleton warriors – they’re a classic monster of sorts from a stop motion film. I’ve always been a fan of fantasy and horror, particularly where they overlap. It’s probably why I’ve always enjoyed playing D&D. And games like Dark Souls, the Alien games, the Resident Evil games – does Mass Effect count? There’s a fine line between fantasy and science fiction sometimes-,”
He rambled, only cutting himself off as a sliver of self-awareness crept into his consciousness and alerted him that Ethan likely had no interest in what he was talking about. As he glanced to the agent in question, Ethan indeed looked as if he had no knowledge of Benji’s latest ramble, but he smiled as if he was pleased to hear it all the same.
Benji flashed an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Ethan grinned and shook his head. “Don’t apologise, I like hearing you talk about your interests. I always learn something new because, as you are painfully aware, pop culture has never been my hottest area of knowledge.”
“Yeah, because if you were a pop culture nerd on top of everything else you can already do, that would be criminally unfair to the rest of us.” And wasn’t that the truth? Ethan had intelligence, bravery, morals, good looks. Making him a nerd on top of that would have been a direct attack on Benji’s existence.
Ethan accepted the response as the compliment it was intended to be and found himself drawn to the rest of Benji’s tattoos on his other arm. “Tell me about these ones. May I-?” He asked as he reached out to hold Benji’s arm, which Benji nodded his consent to. It was easier for Ethan to get a thorough look at the wrapping pieces when he could gently tilt his friend’s arm himself.
Benji’s other arm didn’t seem to have one main piece, but instead a patchwork collection of smaller tattoos gathered in a way that they remained individual but cohesive, stretching from just above his elbow to the base of his neck where a round-neck shirt would usually cover.
A few pieces in particular stood out to Ethan, such as the tattoo he recognised as a more ‘traditional’ style canary which he found to be rather sweet. There was an empty pixelated heart wrapped with blocky text reading ‘GAME OVER’, contrasting with the anatomically accurate heart that was just a few inches away on Benji’s tricep. Benji also had a 90’s style computer monitor and keyboard that Ethan recognised well and smiled at the simplicity of the design.
It was as he was enjoying the ‘retro’ computer piece that he spotted an entrancing, abstract line that wrapped around itself to create an image that could only be identified under a patient gaze. Ethan couldn’t belief that he hadn’t recognised the illusion instantly, but the swirled line evidently formed an image of two men from the neck upwards; one figure had his head tilted backwards towards the sky, and the other had his face pressed into the first man’s neck as if covering it in kisses. Neither face had any identifiable features, but they had strong jaw lines and an Adam’s apple bump that suggested to Ethan that these were indeed male lovers captured in ink.
Ethan wasn’t sure how long he had been holding his friend’s arm and tilting it to admire the art, but he realised at some point that he was overly aware of how toned and firm Benji’s biceps felt under his palm, and how soft his forearm skin was in Ethan’s other hand. Ethan quickly dropped Benji’s arm again and brought his hands back to his own lap where he could keep them to himself.
Benji seemed confused at Ethan’s sudden retreat, his eyes taking in his own arm as if to find the source of what could possibly have been as offensive as bird poop to make his friend abruptly end contact. There was the beginning of a laugh on Benji’s lips as he moved to ask that exact question when he spotted the abstract lovers tattoo that Ethan had definitely seen, and the question died on his tongue as a guarded look entered Benji’s eyes.
Ethan had been averting his gaze from embarrassment and was not expecting to see hurt on his friend’s face when he finally did look up from his hands. Benji had never looked at him like that before – like he was betrayed, and possibly even disgusted.
For a brief moment, Ethan’s eyes widened in panic as he irrationally worried that Benji was disgusted with him for holding onto his arm for too long – but the truth was much worse. Ethan saw Benji’s gaze flicker between the tattoo of the lovers and Ethan’s retreated posture. He recognised that look of pain and disbelief. He knew how this would look from the outside.
“Wait – no! Benji. It’s beautiful. They’re beautiful. I love them, I think you have a wonderful collection of tattoos.” He quickly blurted out, evidently learning the fine art of rambling from Benji himself.
Benji rolled his eyes, mouth pressing into a thin line. “Okay, Ethan, thank you for your allyship. It’s noted.”
Did Benji think he was lying?
“No-, Benji, I’m not saying this right. It came out wrong.” Ethan was evidently frustrated as he frowned, reaching out once more to rest his hand on Benji’s arm. “I think they’re beautiful, especially the tattoo of the men. I love how it wraps around itself and looks so simple at first, but the image is hiding in plain sight.”
Benji’s gaze cautiously returned to Ethan even as he seemed to be evaluating how much of Ethan’s statement he bought into. His expression eased as he saw the earnestness in his friend’s eyes, and Benji allowed his defensive posture to relax as some of the tension left his shoulders.
“Then why the bloody Hell did you just drop me like a bird poop shirt? I thought you were moments away from a hate crime.”
“Benji! Of course not.” Ethan scowled again, seemingly more bothered by this than Benji now was. “I didn’t want you to think that I was staring at you.”
A confused expression passed over Benji’s face. “But you were staring at me.”
“I-,” Ethan cut himself off again, unused to being the person on the back foot in a conversation. Agents didn’t get caught off-guard. Ethan Hunt always knew what to say to get out of a situation. “Yes, I was looking. I was admiring your tattoos.”
“You were admiring my tattoos.”
“Would you stop repeating me?” Ethan suddenly snapped, though his tone was low and there was no real anger to his words. “I know what tactic you’re using, we’ve had the same training, Benji.”
“Then you know it’s because I’m waiting for you to say what you mean, Ethan. We’re friends, you can tell me what’s on your mind.” Benji sat up in his sun lounger so that he could perch on the edge and give Ethan his full attention, since his friend seemed to be struggling with something.
Ethan placed his hands on his own knees and sighed. “I suppose, one thing I am wondering is. . . Were you afraid to come out to me?”
Benji shook his head instantly. “No, that wasn’t it. I haven’t come out as such to anyone at the IMF, it didn’t feel like anyone else’s business. Plus, it’s not like I’m seeing anybody – it’s not like there’s a chance of me bringing a guy to our friendly drinks so you could all find out that way. I’m gay, but I’m not actively gay, you know. Love life, dead on arrival. No more fish in the sea.”
Ethan had remained patient as Benji spoke, his gaze searching as he observed how Benji discussed his situation. “So. . . No dates recently?”
Benji gave an exasperated groan. “No dates since moving to America, Ethan, in my twenties! Since starting at the IMF. Maybe nobody knows I’m gay because I never have the bloody time to go and practice being gay – what if I’ve forgotten how to kiss men? It would be embarrassing to come out now, I’m horrible at being gay. I’m not even tidy. I don’t think I can dance either.”
Ethan couldn’t help but laugh at Benji’s words, a sincere grin spreading over his face as he shook his head again. “Benjamin, now you’re just being stereotypical on purpose. Come on, I’m sure you’re a wonderful gay man, with lots of gay skills. I’m glad to hear you weren’t scared to come out though – and I promise to respect your privacy, this won’t go any further than me.”
“Thank you.” Benji smiled in return, pleased that his rant had broken the tension.
He inhaled deeply afterwards now that the anxiety had left his body and began moving into a relaxing shoulder stretch to remove the stiffness from his back, only to be rudely interrupted when Ethan decided to pipe up-.
“I’m bisexual.”
Benji halted mid-stretch in order to stare at Ethan in surprise. “. . . Oh. Oh! Alright, okay, that’s cool.”
“Maybe. . . you didn’t know because I’m terrible at fulfilling bisexual stereotypes too – and I haven’t kissed a man in a while either. We can be rusty together, if that’s any consolation.” Ethan’s cheeks flushed slightly at his admission even as his stare continued to linger on Benji’s bare chest, just as it had done all afternoon. The tattoos truly were gorgeous, but Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn’t also seemingly a little obsessed with taking in the sight of Benji’s skin, and particularly his surprisingly toned chest and abs.
What business did Benji, Ethan’s techie, Ethan’s best friend, Ethan’s field partner, Ethan’s nerd bud, what business did he have being shredded? Did field work do that to him? When did that happen? And why did Ethan find it so hot that he could see how much work Benji put in to his career?
Not commenting on Ethan’s blatant staring that he likely did not know he was doing, Benji completed his stretch and cast his friend a mischievous glance. “Yeah, you really do defy those bisexual stereotypes.”
Ethan gave a small smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, bisexuals have a great fashion sense and only use cute tote bags, according to stereotypes. You dress like Action Man and use the ugliest rucksack I’ve ever seen.” Benji choked on his own poorly suppressed laugh.
Ethan pretended to be scandalised as he shook his head, a begrudging smile on his face. “That’s a little mean – isn’t mean gay a stereotype in itself?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Benji laughed, the sound trailing off as he observantly took note of Ethan’s still-pink cheeks and the unusually tense way he was holding himself. An idea flickered through Benji’s mind as he weighed up his options and gave a sigh.
“. . .Y’know, there’s a stereotype that’s sometimes talked about as if it’s specific to lesbians, but I think it’s quite a common thing. It’s a trope about how two queer women will be in love with each other, go on dates, practically live together, and still not know whether either of them are romantically interested in the other.”
Ethan glanced to his shoes that were lined up neatly by Benji’s back door, right next to the kitchen he had cleaned that very morning after making breakfast for the pair of them. This was whilst Benji had tidied the garden and set up the matching sun loungers they had bought together the previous weekend. “So they’re women who live together and do everything together, but they don’t recognise that they’re in love, or even dating? How would that happen?”
“Maybe they think the other person is only being kind in a friendly way, or they’re scared of being rejected. Maybe they don’t even know the other person is queer. I think there’s a lot of ways someone could end up in that situation and not even realise what they’ve done until it’s staring them in the face.” Benji gave a shrug. “. . . Or even in the chest.”
Ethan’s head snapped to Benji at the latter comment, his ears burning at the realisation that – yes, he had indeed been staring – and yes, Benji had indeed noticed. Because he had been obvious. Right.
As if reading Ethan’s expression, Benji nodded. “Yeah, I noticed, E. You weren’t being very subtle about it. I would have put a shirt back on if it had been anyone but you looking at me quite that intensely.”
“I didn’t mean to be intense.” Was all Ethan murmured, his eyes moving from Benji’s apartment (their apartment?) to his friend who was still sat opposite, so close but so far. “Hypothetically, how would the women in that situation resolve it? I can think of a few ideas, but I would like to hear yours.”
“Well, I think they could probably have an honest conversation about their feelings – that would be essential. Open and honest communication is everything,” Benji began.
“Oh, of course.” Ethan agreed.
“Of course. I think it could help them too, maybe, if they could kiss about it to make it clear how they felt. It’s straight to the point, y’know, and a lot more fun than talking. There’s less pressure on a kiss, and more time to connect.”
Ethan hopped in again. “Absolutely. But only if the talking came afterwards too, or else someone could get their feelings hurt.”
“Of course, that’s a given – though I think it would be shitty for one of the lesbians to engage in the kiss if they had no romantic feelings for the other lesbian. I think if one of them truly did not feel the same way, they should leave and not take a kiss that it would be irresponsible to enjoy.” Benji concluded, still perched on the edge of his sun lounger.
“Of course – they should only kiss if they want to pursue the other woman romantically, too. It would be cruel otherwise.” Ethan agreed, mirroring Benji’s position.
Benji nodded fervently. “Of course, that would be cruel. Two friends who were as close as the ones I mentioned should only be sharing kisses if they want to be girlfriends, really, since they’ve been trialling that lifestyle already.”
“Benji?”
“Yes, Ethan?”
“Can we stop pretending to be hypothetical lesbians and please kiss already?”
Benji released a breath. “God, yes.”
It was unimportant who moved first, as the pair met in the middle a microsecond later, mouths more clumsy than intended as the two men learned how they fit together for the first time amidst their enthusiasm. It was the first kiss of many.
They spent the rest of the afternoon practicing until they had explored dozens of ways that the two could fit together as one.
Ethan ensured to take the opportunity to become intimately acquainted with all of Benji’s tattoos, and even hours later, neither of them could find a reason that Benji should have to put his shirt back on at all.