Happy Valentine's/Singles Awareness Day to you all, whichever one you celebrate. Here's a random oneshot idea I got last night at like…11 o'clock, so…here. It's going to bother me otherwise.
Disclaimer: DISCLAIMED!!
Paper-Chain HeartsIt was a stereotypical winter day: snow was silently falling under a gloomy sky and if the thermometer fell any lower, the mercury would be in a puddle on the ground. So that's why, instead of sitting outside, Ben was relaxed on the couch, in a staring contest with the wall. It had won the past several times, seeing as it doesn't even possess the capacity to blink, but Ben, in his usual fashion, was determined to succeed at least once.
"Ugh…" And in stumbled Riley, stepping heavily on the carpeted floor in slow, labored strides. "I didn't sleep at all last night."
Ben was about to ask why, but then he saw. Draped around his friend were what looked like miles of chains of paper hearts in pink, red, white, and purple. Riley's glasses were slightly askew and his hair looked like it could have starred in the movie "Attack of the Killer Cowlicks."
"What's with the, uh…" Ben asked, losing his train of thought in the process.
"Abigail told me like…a couple weeks ago to make these for her Valentine's Day party tonight, but I forgot until…about nine last night," he yawned. "I didn't want to fall victim to her fury." Yawning again, he took a few more steps toward the couch. "I mean, look at these!" He held up a couple strands of pink ones, which seemed decent. "And compare to the four in the morning variations." Were those supposed to be hearts? They looked like blobs.
"Riley, those resemble appendixes more than hearts." Ben laughed despite himself.
"You never know. Appendixes could really be the organ of love. The shape of a heart is just more pleasing to the eye." Futilely, he flapped his arms in an attempt to rid his frame of the paper chains. "They won't—get—off!" He began to jump up and down and flail erratically, much to Ben's amusement.
"Hold on, hold on—you don't want to break them!" Ben said as he got up to help.
"Yes I do! They're going to bury me alive!"
"But what about Abigail's 'fury'?"
"I don't care right now! I'm about to die by paper-heart-death!" With a loud ripping sound, the chains came apart and fell to his feet. "You know what? She can deal."
"C'mon, Riley…" Ben sighed, grabbing him by the arm. "Sit down. You need to relax, or sleep, or…something. Anything but hop around like that."
Riley flopped down on the sofa beside the older man with a sigh-like groan. Almost immediately, his head slumped onto Ben's shoulder. "In case your nerve endings are dead, I'm using your shoulder as a pillow. I hope you don't mind," he muttered.
"No, it's fine. I've been told my shoulder's very comfortable."
"By who?" Riley asked, perking his head up slightly but still leaving it on his shoulder. "Abigail?"
"Why do you care about others' rating of my shoulder's comfort ability?" The younger man gave him an 'oh please' look. "OK, fine. It was Abigail."
Silence ensued—Ben didn't mind; after all, Riley needed it. He could almost feel the waves of fatigue rolling off his body. After a few minutes, he heard his friend's breathing slow.
"I hate Valentine's Day," Riley said suddenly, scaring Ben half to death. And he had thought he was asleep.
"Why's that?"
"I never had anyone to celebrate it with." Riley didn't sound bitter, just curious and wondering at his own bad luck.
"Wait…" Ben looked down at the top of Riley's head. "Don't tell me you've never had a girlfriend before."
"Fine. I won't tell you."
"Riley…"
"Gah…just drop it, Ben. It's hard to discuss my lack of love life when I'm this freaking exhausted," he sighed sadly.
Although he'd been saving the box for Abigail, Ben pulled up the sofa cushion on his other side and fished out the shiny, red, heart-shaped box and threw it on Riley's lap. "Here. Eat. Sugar will make you less exhausted."
"Dude…this box is defective…it's not shaped like an appendix at all," he laughed as he opened the box and popped a chocolate in his mouth. "Blech…"
"What?"
"It's coconut." He then proceeded to contort his mouth and tongue in a fruitless attempt to rid the taste of the offending coconut from, shuddering in disgust.
"Why don't you just spit it out?"
"I don't have a tissue, and besides…I don't want to incur Abigail's wrath any more than I already have to…a chocolate stain on this carpet might be worth what my index finger would fetch on the black market." Riley sighed again, closing the box and setting it on the table in front of them. After all this time, his head still hadn't moved.
"So…" Ben said. "What's this about you and having no relationships?"
"Oh, come on, Ben. A twenty-six-year-old man who's never been kissed isn't that hard to understand, especially if you've been figuring out ancient Masonic riddles."
"Never been kissed?"
"What?" Riley actually picked up his head just to stare at his friend. "I've never been in a relationship, and you're expecting me to have kissed someone outside my family? Were you thinking that I was walking down the street one day and randomly grabbed a girl walking past, kissed her, and then just kept going?" Laughing, he shook his head. "You're silly." And back his head went, a yawn following.
How long they sat there, Ben didn't know; this was the one room in the house that lacked any sort of time-telling device. What he did know was that after a while, his head too became heavy, and he laid it on top of Riley's messy raven-hued head.
"When's Abigail supposed to get back from her meeting?" Riley asked after a while, still sounding out-of-sorts.
"Dunno," Ben sighed. With a pitying glance down at the younger man, he planted a kiss on the very top of his head. That got his attention—they both immediately sat up.
"What was that?" Riley asked with a smile playing at his lips.
"Well…" Ben shrugged. "You said you've never been kissed…"
"But on the head? You know that doesn't count."
"What would you have said if I did it on the lips?" Ben asked hypothetically with a hint of sarcasm.
"I wouldn't have minded—I mean…" A tomato couldn't have been redder than Riley's face at that very moment, and car tires wouldn't have been larger than his eyes. Mouth in an "o," he let out a low whistle. "I mean…when I'm tired my filtering system shuts down." He instantly looked away, as did Ben.
Every so often, Ben would sneak a look over in Riley's direction only to see him still silently berating himself. He had to have been glancing over as well, because once they chose the same moment and both had to avert their gaze once more. That time, Ben noted how his friend's hands were clenched into fists that were so tense they shook.
"Aw, screw it," he heard Riley mutter, and the next thing he knew was his mouth on his own.
At once, Ben forgot everything that his rational brain would have made him remember—he has a girlfriend, Riley's a guy, he's supposed to be straight. But Riley's hand entwined around his neck and bringing him closer was entirely more distracting than he would have anticipated, had he thought of such things. But that wasn't even as close to distracting as the kiss—passionate and needy—that momentarily had him question why he was with Abigail at all. Thus, he, for the first time in his life, tossed reason aside and let instinct take over. In an instant, he was kissing back and could have sworn that he heard Riley chuckle happily.
Fingers entangled in the already messy hair, Ben could almost taste the residual flavor from the chocolate that had occupied the space his tongue was now. And despite having no experience at all, Riley was right there, keeping up and even surpassing the passion Ben was exhibiting. His mind was in a fog of pleasure as they both occasionally let out a quiet moan.
They broke apart after what seemed like ages and as his rationality returned to him, Ben was rather surprised to find one of his hands up Riley's shirt and the other (which he could have sworn was in his friend's…lover's…Riley's hair) resting at the top of his thigh. Their eyes locked, and he saw a kind of fire in Riley's eyes that he'd never seen before.
"Happy Valentine's Day, my lovely little treasure hunter." The younger man pulled him into a softer, slower kiss, breaking apart gradually. "I hope you didn't mind that."
"Does it look like I minded?"
XXX
Well, if us singles can't have a happy Valentine's Day, then maybe at least Riley and Ben could.
Please Review. (Reviewers get Riley-shaped cookies.)