Fic: RPF: My Bloody Valentine (4/16).
Oct. 19th, 2008 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_moonshine_xTitle: My Bloody Valentine (4/16).
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
x_moonshine_x
Pairings/characters: Ben Barnes/William Moseley, Ben Barnes/Kate Magowan, Colin Firth, Rachel Hurd-Wood and various other Dorian Gray and Narnia people.
Rating: PG-13 this part (NC-17 overall).
Warnings: Real person slash, het, so many celeb cameos it should be illegal, Mr. Darcy’s stalker and gun toting maniacs.
Word count: 1,756.
Summary: Ben has done absolutely everything to keep his relationship with Will sacred and unmarred by the paparazzi, but during the promotion run for Dorian Gray he discovers that some things are more important than hiding away.
Other chapters: Here.
A/N: Sorry about the wait on this one folks, work's been crazy this past couple of weeks, so I've been too tired to write. Hopefully things should be back to normal now.
My Bloody Valentine
Chapter 4 – From Paris With Love
For the past twenty minutes Kate has been talking to him about something or other, he’s not entirely sure what, but she’s been doing this annoying thing where she sits and twiddles her hair and taps her foot out of time to the beat. His attention, however, is firmly fixed to his mobile phone and the text Will has just sent him.
Watch wot ur txtin, was with my mum. xo
He and Will got into the habit of sending dirty text messages several months back. He’d been sat backstage at some TV show bored out of his mind and randomly decided to fire one off. The response he got had been a bit of a shock and that was being polite. Generally, Will was – or at least seemed – quite conservative when it came to things like that, but it appeared things were changing right before his eyes.
‘What are you getting?’ Kate asks, flashing her best smile in his direction.
Out of courtesy, he drops the phone and picks up the menu instead (unsurprisingly, the entire thing is printed in French), trying his best to appear interested in what’s going on. He’s not of course, not interested in the slightest. There are more interesting things lying in bed at home and he’s missing them like crazy.
Ben frowns; French was never his best subject at school. ‘Is any of this actually edible?’ He perks an eyebrow and forces a laugh. He’s glad he’s only faced with Kate right now and not an irate waiter who would surly keep tutting at him for his incompetence.
From across the table, Kate is laughing, dark hair falling over her face in disarray. She’s always been like this with him, throwing her added life experience into the mix, pulling the ‘I’m older than you, so I know better’ card.
She eventually throws him a lifeline and points out a few of the most popular dishes, making suggestions. And so long as he doesn’t end up with snails, he’s happy.
Once they’ve ordered, she heads outside for a cigarette, leaving Ben alone to mull over his thoughts and a nice glass of Merlot. He takes the opportunity to text Will back, his fingers dancing over the keys as the words come easily.
Out wit Kate. Rather it b u, wud b makin u a v.happy boy rght now. BBx
After hitting send, he reaches for his glass, drinking deep and savouring the mouthful. It’s probably the best wine he’s had and he imagines it’s costing him a pretty penny, too.
Yes? How? xo
Ben smiles at the reply, raking his teeth lightly over his lower lip as he thinks up the perfect answer. For a moment he wonders whether Will is still with his mum, but then pushes the thought aside, sending his text off in record time.
Suckin u off under t table. BBx
He knows it’s crass, but what were these messages for it not to entertain himself?
His hand goes to his wine again just as Kate reappears. She slides gracefully into her seat, the scent of cigarette smoke accompanying her and suddenly he finds himself craving one as well. He’s been trying to give up because he knows that Will doesn’t like it, but that’s easier said than done. Patches, gum, hypnosis and even going cold turkey. He’s tried it all, yet nothing seems to work, something always sends him over the edge.
‘We’re being watched,’ she informs him, sipping from her own glass. ‘There are five or so photographers out there waiting for the perfect picture of the loved up couple.’
‘Well they’ll be waiting a while,’ he mutters, glancing at her for a moment. ‘I play it up enough for their sake. I’m having a night off.’
Of course, while saying this they are sat in one of the more romantic restaurants in the capital city – night off didn’t really come into it. Over in the corner some guy is playing Mozart on a violin, candles are placed strategically around the place and there are red roses on each table.
‘Or we could just give them what they want and be done with it,’ Kate suggests with a shrug, reaching her hand out for his and smiling. ‘Give them a bit of a show, they might leave us alone, don’t you think?’
Ben doesn’t know what to make of this suggestion so ignores it instead and downs the contents of his wine glass.
She has barely noticed and is looking instead out of the window and at the face of a pasty, middle-aged photographer. He’s right in the window, nose pressed to the glass and breathing heavily. It’s not exactly the most attractive of sights, not for anyone, so Ben quickly averts his eyes and glances down at his cutlery.
‘We can’t just play it up when we fancy, Ben. For this to look convincing, we need to do it all the time, even when we don’t really want to,’ she continues, her fingers curling around his. ‘And that means right now, OK, so kiss me already…’
This time he does meet her gaze and reluctantly leans closer to her, his lips brushing against her cheek as he whispers, ‘Don’t tell me what to do.’
He sits back, arms folding across the table top briefly before he gets to his feet without warning, taking his mobile phone with him and stepping into the foyer of the restaurant. From here he can see the flock of forenamed photographers outside and wishes he had come to Paris alone. He could have been out at a club with Rachel right now, or sitting in the bar at the hotel chatting to Colin. Anything, absolutely anything would have been better than this.
Looking down at his phone, Ben considers giving Will a call and locking himself away somewhere so they can have a private half an hour, even though he knows it’s not the best of ideas. He shakes the thought off as quickly as it comes, a soft sigh of frustration escaping him.
By the time he makes his way back to the table, the food has arrived and Kate is staring down dejectedly at her chicken, pushing food around her plate with her fork. It’s a far cry from the happily ever after couple they’re supposed to be.
‘Sorry,’ he mutters half-heartedly.
She shakes her head, placing a hand to his thigh beneath the table, and then smiles over at him. ‘I understand,’ she whispers.
Of course she does, where would arguing get them after all?
Ben nods and pushes all hesitation aside, leaning closer to her and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, his hand coming up to cup her chin. He’s kissed her many times before now; on the red carpet, sitting at a table at some after party, in the park on a Saturday afternoon. But somehow, this is different, there’s a sense of desperation in her return and he wonders if perhaps kissing her was a bad idea.
He sighs, knowing he’s going to have to push her away because this is one step too far, even for them. But at the same time, if he pushes her away, how’s it going to look to their audience? The press won’t let a disagreement, not matter how small, simply be ignored, especially if it happens right in front of them. He’s stuck right in the middle of a situation he really doesn’t want to be in and he only has himself to blame.
‘Kate…’ he murmurs, pulling away only slightly and catching her gaze. ‘Can we leave, please?’
She stares for a moment, nibbling on her bottom lip, but then nods and reaches for her coat, pulling it on. ‘Sure,’ she responds. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Ten minutes later, they’re heading up the street towards their hotel, still hand in hand because the photographers have decided to give chase. Unlike his companion, who is watching them and keeping tabs, Ben is looking at the pavement stretched out before him, wanting nothing more than to get away from their prying eyes and hide away in the safety of his room. He can call Will and revel in the reassurance only his boyfriend can give him, forgetting all else for the rest of the night, which is exactly what he needs.
Upon reaching the fourth floor and the junction where they’re due to go their separate ways, Kate catches him by surprise, pulling him to a stop and getting up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around him. ‘Want a drink before you go to bed?’ she asks, smiling hopefully. ‘My minibar is fully stocked, I made sure to check.’
Ben hesitates, but gives in easily, following her back to the room within seconds and taking a seat on her couch, gaze fixed to the beautiful Paris skyline stretched out in front of him. She joins him shortly afterwards, curling up and handing over a small glass of whiskey. Her head drops down onto his shoulder seconds later and he glances down at her with a soft smile, noticing how weary she looks.
‘Tired?’ he whispers.
Shaking her head in response, she laughs, ‘No, just making use of you while you’re here. You’re a bit warmer than the cushions, you know.’ She smiles cheekily, her free hand dancing lightly over his thigh and once again, he begins to feel a little awkward in her presence.
‘OK…’
Forcing a laugh, Ben closes his eyes for a moment, fighting the butterflies flapping away in his stomach. He should go, he really should go because he has no idea how they even got here and he knows it’s wrong. It’s been wrong for a while now and he’s only just come to realise it. He can’t do this much longer, pretending that he hasn’t noticed the change in her actions is almost impossible. They were supposed to be friends, nothing more, so how did it ever go this far?
He downs the whiskey, swallows the lump in his throat and pushes her from him with a little gentle persuasion. ‘Maybe we can do this tomorrow night instead,’ he suggests, now scrambling for the door, even though he knows his behaviour seems erratic.
Kate stares up at him, her dark eyes wide in confusion and her glass still full and clutched tightly in her hand. ‘If you want…’ she whispers.
And he does want, because he knows if he doesn’t leave now, he probably never will.
.x.
Author:
x_moonshine_xPairings/characters: Ben Barnes/William Moseley, Ben Barnes/Kate Magowan, Colin Firth, Rachel Hurd-Wood and various other Dorian Gray and Narnia people.
Rating: PG-13 this part (NC-17 overall).
Warnings: Real person slash, het, so many celeb cameos it should be illegal, Mr. Darcy’s stalker and gun toting maniacs.
Word count: 1,756.
Summary: Ben has done absolutely everything to keep his relationship with Will sacred and unmarred by the paparazzi, but during the promotion run for Dorian Gray he discovers that some things are more important than hiding away.
Other chapters: Here.
A/N: Sorry about the wait on this one folks, work's been crazy this past couple of weeks, so I've been too tired to write. Hopefully things should be back to normal now.
My Bloody Valentine
Chapter 4 – From Paris With Love
For the past twenty minutes Kate has been talking to him about something or other, he’s not entirely sure what, but she’s been doing this annoying thing where she sits and twiddles her hair and taps her foot out of time to the beat. His attention, however, is firmly fixed to his mobile phone and the text Will has just sent him.
Watch wot ur txtin, was with my mum. xo
He and Will got into the habit of sending dirty text messages several months back. He’d been sat backstage at some TV show bored out of his mind and randomly decided to fire one off. The response he got had been a bit of a shock and that was being polite. Generally, Will was – or at least seemed – quite conservative when it came to things like that, but it appeared things were changing right before his eyes.
‘What are you getting?’ Kate asks, flashing her best smile in his direction.
Out of courtesy, he drops the phone and picks up the menu instead (unsurprisingly, the entire thing is printed in French), trying his best to appear interested in what’s going on. He’s not of course, not interested in the slightest. There are more interesting things lying in bed at home and he’s missing them like crazy.
Ben frowns; French was never his best subject at school. ‘Is any of this actually edible?’ He perks an eyebrow and forces a laugh. He’s glad he’s only faced with Kate right now and not an irate waiter who would surly keep tutting at him for his incompetence.
From across the table, Kate is laughing, dark hair falling over her face in disarray. She’s always been like this with him, throwing her added life experience into the mix, pulling the ‘I’m older than you, so I know better’ card.
She eventually throws him a lifeline and points out a few of the most popular dishes, making suggestions. And so long as he doesn’t end up with snails, he’s happy.
Once they’ve ordered, she heads outside for a cigarette, leaving Ben alone to mull over his thoughts and a nice glass of Merlot. He takes the opportunity to text Will back, his fingers dancing over the keys as the words come easily.
Out wit Kate. Rather it b u, wud b makin u a v.happy boy rght now. BBx
After hitting send, he reaches for his glass, drinking deep and savouring the mouthful. It’s probably the best wine he’s had and he imagines it’s costing him a pretty penny, too.
Yes? How? xo
Ben smiles at the reply, raking his teeth lightly over his lower lip as he thinks up the perfect answer. For a moment he wonders whether Will is still with his mum, but then pushes the thought aside, sending his text off in record time.
Suckin u off under t table. BBx
He knows it’s crass, but what were these messages for it not to entertain himself?
His hand goes to his wine again just as Kate reappears. She slides gracefully into her seat, the scent of cigarette smoke accompanying her and suddenly he finds himself craving one as well. He’s been trying to give up because he knows that Will doesn’t like it, but that’s easier said than done. Patches, gum, hypnosis and even going cold turkey. He’s tried it all, yet nothing seems to work, something always sends him over the edge.
‘We’re being watched,’ she informs him, sipping from her own glass. ‘There are five or so photographers out there waiting for the perfect picture of the loved up couple.’
‘Well they’ll be waiting a while,’ he mutters, glancing at her for a moment. ‘I play it up enough for their sake. I’m having a night off.’
Of course, while saying this they are sat in one of the more romantic restaurants in the capital city – night off didn’t really come into it. Over in the corner some guy is playing Mozart on a violin, candles are placed strategically around the place and there are red roses on each table.
‘Or we could just give them what they want and be done with it,’ Kate suggests with a shrug, reaching her hand out for his and smiling. ‘Give them a bit of a show, they might leave us alone, don’t you think?’
Ben doesn’t know what to make of this suggestion so ignores it instead and downs the contents of his wine glass.
She has barely noticed and is looking instead out of the window and at the face of a pasty, middle-aged photographer. He’s right in the window, nose pressed to the glass and breathing heavily. It’s not exactly the most attractive of sights, not for anyone, so Ben quickly averts his eyes and glances down at his cutlery.
‘We can’t just play it up when we fancy, Ben. For this to look convincing, we need to do it all the time, even when we don’t really want to,’ she continues, her fingers curling around his. ‘And that means right now, OK, so kiss me already…’
This time he does meet her gaze and reluctantly leans closer to her, his lips brushing against her cheek as he whispers, ‘Don’t tell me what to do.’
He sits back, arms folding across the table top briefly before he gets to his feet without warning, taking his mobile phone with him and stepping into the foyer of the restaurant. From here he can see the flock of forenamed photographers outside and wishes he had come to Paris alone. He could have been out at a club with Rachel right now, or sitting in the bar at the hotel chatting to Colin. Anything, absolutely anything would have been better than this.
Looking down at his phone, Ben considers giving Will a call and locking himself away somewhere so they can have a private half an hour, even though he knows it’s not the best of ideas. He shakes the thought off as quickly as it comes, a soft sigh of frustration escaping him.
By the time he makes his way back to the table, the food has arrived and Kate is staring down dejectedly at her chicken, pushing food around her plate with her fork. It’s a far cry from the happily ever after couple they’re supposed to be.
‘Sorry,’ he mutters half-heartedly.
She shakes her head, placing a hand to his thigh beneath the table, and then smiles over at him. ‘I understand,’ she whispers.
Of course she does, where would arguing get them after all?
Ben nods and pushes all hesitation aside, leaning closer to her and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, his hand coming up to cup her chin. He’s kissed her many times before now; on the red carpet, sitting at a table at some after party, in the park on a Saturday afternoon. But somehow, this is different, there’s a sense of desperation in her return and he wonders if perhaps kissing her was a bad idea.
He sighs, knowing he’s going to have to push her away because this is one step too far, even for them. But at the same time, if he pushes her away, how’s it going to look to their audience? The press won’t let a disagreement, not matter how small, simply be ignored, especially if it happens right in front of them. He’s stuck right in the middle of a situation he really doesn’t want to be in and he only has himself to blame.
‘Kate…’ he murmurs, pulling away only slightly and catching her gaze. ‘Can we leave, please?’
She stares for a moment, nibbling on her bottom lip, but then nods and reaches for her coat, pulling it on. ‘Sure,’ she responds. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Ten minutes later, they’re heading up the street towards their hotel, still hand in hand because the photographers have decided to give chase. Unlike his companion, who is watching them and keeping tabs, Ben is looking at the pavement stretched out before him, wanting nothing more than to get away from their prying eyes and hide away in the safety of his room. He can call Will and revel in the reassurance only his boyfriend can give him, forgetting all else for the rest of the night, which is exactly what he needs.
Upon reaching the fourth floor and the junction where they’re due to go their separate ways, Kate catches him by surprise, pulling him to a stop and getting up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around him. ‘Want a drink before you go to bed?’ she asks, smiling hopefully. ‘My minibar is fully stocked, I made sure to check.’
Ben hesitates, but gives in easily, following her back to the room within seconds and taking a seat on her couch, gaze fixed to the beautiful Paris skyline stretched out in front of him. She joins him shortly afterwards, curling up and handing over a small glass of whiskey. Her head drops down onto his shoulder seconds later and he glances down at her with a soft smile, noticing how weary she looks.
‘Tired?’ he whispers.
Shaking her head in response, she laughs, ‘No, just making use of you while you’re here. You’re a bit warmer than the cushions, you know.’ She smiles cheekily, her free hand dancing lightly over his thigh and once again, he begins to feel a little awkward in her presence.
‘OK…’
Forcing a laugh, Ben closes his eyes for a moment, fighting the butterflies flapping away in his stomach. He should go, he really should go because he has no idea how they even got here and he knows it’s wrong. It’s been wrong for a while now and he’s only just come to realise it. He can’t do this much longer, pretending that he hasn’t noticed the change in her actions is almost impossible. They were supposed to be friends, nothing more, so how did it ever go this far?
He downs the whiskey, swallows the lump in his throat and pushes her from him with a little gentle persuasion. ‘Maybe we can do this tomorrow night instead,’ he suggests, now scrambling for the door, even though he knows his behaviour seems erratic.
Kate stares up at him, her dark eyes wide in confusion and her glass still full and clutched tightly in her hand. ‘If you want…’ she whispers.
And he does want, because he knows if he doesn’t leave now, he probably never will.
.x.
