Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Are you sure this was the only costume they had left?” Ethan glanced at himself in the mirror in Brandt’s guest bathroom. He was dressed in a green Navy pilot jump suit and his own black leather boots.

“What are you complaining about? It fits you like a glove,” Brandt said. “Here.” He handed Ethan a pair of aviators. “These’ll complete the look.”

“What look?” Ethan asked. He was a little embarrassed, but he put the aviators on anyway.

“It’s perfect. Very Top Gun.”

“Whatever.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair. He looked pretty good. Maybe he should find a stick of gum. Didn’t the guy from the movie chew gum?

When Brandt had told him about the Halloween party he was throwing, Ethan had agreed to go before realizing that not only was it a costume party, but there was a theme. Ethan Hunt wasn’t the type of guy who was into theme parties, but Brandt had begged him to come. And Benji was supposed to be there.

Ethan hadn’t seen Benji in a couple of weeks—they’d been missing each other around the office and then he had to go to Colombia for a thing and had only gotten back that day, which is why Brandt had taken care of his costume. The theme was famous movie characters. He was going as whatshisname from Top Gun. Ethan vaguely remembered seeing the movie when it first came out and liking it, but he didn’t know why Brandt had insisted on it.

“Is Benji here yet?” Ethan asked. “Uh, 'cause I had a question for him about an issue I’m having with my, uh, email.” Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Don’t blush.

But Brandt didn’t seem to think Ethan’s interest in Benji’s whereabouts was suspicious. “Not yet, buddy. But he’ll be here. Have a beer, relax.”

“Right. Okay.” Brandt left to put on his costume, while Ethan went into the living room where a dozen or so people, most of whom he recognized from the office, were gathered around a table that was covered in liquor bottles and bowls of popcorn and candy. “Monster Mash” was playing on the sound system. He felt awkward and too old and out of his element. Maybe there’d be a coup somewhere and he could leave early.

He grabbed a beer, trying to figure out everyone’s costume. He recognized Indiana Jones and Scarlett O’Hara, but had no idea about most of them. He supposed he could go up and ask. Maybe that’s why Brandt had invented this stupid theme—to give people something to talk about. He was about to when he felt the energy of the room change. He glanced over to the door and couldn’t help his grin. Benji stood there, wearing a short-sleeve white button-down shirt and a red tie. Ethan supposed he was in costume, but he looked like he could have come straight from the office. What was stranger was Benji’s expression, which was a bit shell-shocked as he took in Ethan’s outfit.

“Benji! Hey!” Ethan winced. His tone was way too enthusiastic, but who cared?

Benji just shook his head and muttered something like, “I’m going to kill him.” Ethan cocked his head in question. “Never mind.”

Benji helped himself to a beer and Ethan realized he’d just been following him around without making conversation. “So, what’s your costume?”

“Seriously? I’m Shaun.”

Ethan didn’t know who that was and it must have shown on his face.

“Of the Dead,” Benji added.

“Oh! Of course.” Then Ethan laughed. “I actually have no idea who that is.”

Benji’s eyes softened. “You poor soul. Shaun of the Dead is a zombie comedy. I’ll show it to you sometime.”

“That would be great! Yeah. Thanks.” Ethan took a sip of his beer. “I’m dressed as—”

“I know who you are. Maverick, right?”

Ethan was pretty sure that was the main character’s name. “Right. Top Gun. How did you know?”

“I’ve seen it, once or twice.” There was something in Benji’s tone that had the hairs on Ethan’s neck stand up. There was more to that story, and Ethan wanted to know what it was.

He wanted to know everything about Benji. Since they’d gotten back from Kashmir, things had gone mostly back to normal. But Ethan felt the passage of time more keenly than ever. He realized that he was restless and incomplete whenever he had to do a mission without Benji. He wanted to be near him all the time, talk to him and listen to him and work out with him and eat with him and watch his expressive face and hold his hand and see if he tasted as good as he smelled and—uh oh.

He was in love with Benji. Dunn. Benjamin Dunn. Benji. His friend. His teammate. His favorite person.

How had he not realized this before? He’d known for a while that he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but it was so much worse than that. Suddenly Ethan didn’t know what to do with his hands. He squeezed his bottle of beer until he thought it might crack.

“Is everything okay, Ethan?” Benji asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Ethan cleared his throat. “Everything’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. You seem a little…tense.”

“I’m not tense. I’m relaxed.” Ethan took a sip of his beer. It started to go down the wrong pipe and he coughed, trying not to choke.

“Jesus,” Benji grabbed the bottle from him and set it down on a table, then grabbed Ethan’s shoulder. “You okay? Can you breathe?”

Ethan felt his face grow beet red as he coughed. “I’m—“ cough “—fine. Just went down the wrong way.”

“I hate when that happens,” Benji said.

Ethan suddenly realized Benji’s hand was still on his shoulder. Benji must have realized it, too, because he pulled it away quickly. Ethan missed the contact. He was in so much trouble.

***

Three weeks earlier

“I’m not drunk. I’m just not completely sober,” Benji said, as Brandt signaled for the check. They’d left the office together on a Friday night and hit a bar on the way to the Metro. Three pints later and Benji was definitely feeling it, while Brandt seemed unaffected.

“Whatever, buddy,” Brandt said, smiling. He gestured to the TV behind the bar on which an old movie was starting to play. “Hey, Top Gun. I used to love this movie when I was a kid.”

“Oh my god,” Benji gasped. “So did I!”

“They had Top Gun in…wherever it is you grew up?”

“My older brother had a VHS tape of it. I used to watch the volleyball scene over and over and over. When no one was around. It was a very formative experience for me.”

“I get the picture,” Brandt said, holding up a hand to stop Benji from elaborating.

“I had the hugest crush on Maverick. The little shit.”

“Really? But Iceman was so much more built—” Brandt stopped, his cheeks coloring. “I mean, Maverick was kind of a twerp.”

Benji giggled. “Remind you of anyone? Cocky but deservedly so. Unfairly gorgeous. A smile that could light up the Empire State Building.”

“Who are you talking about—oh, Ethan?” Brandt looked thoughtful for a minute. “You are drunk.”

“Maybe. I’m a cheap date.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brandt said. “Maybe we should get you home.”

“Why? It’s not like I have anyone waiting for me there. I’d rather be in the office, quite frankly. Being useful. Though Ethan’s in Berlin right now. So yeah, I guess home it is.”

Half an hour later, Brandt was trundling Benji into his apartment. Benji had sobered up a fair amount between the Metro ride and the three flights of stairs. “Will?”

“Yeah, Benji?”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

“About how much of a lightweight you are? I think they probably know already, buddy.”

“Ta, and no. I meant…about how I feel about…you know.”

Brandt sighed. “Of course not.”

“He doesn’t know, does he? Sometimes it’s hard for me to shut it off.”

“I’m pretty sure he has no idea.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

Brandt smiled. “Hey, I almost forgot to tell you—I’m having a Halloween party…”

***

This is not going well. All he’d done all night was embarrass himself while Benji gave him sidelong glances that alternated between pity and concern.

“Hey, Benji, thanks for coming!” Brandt appeared, wearing some leather outfit with a bow and quiver of arrows on his back, and gave Benji a hug. Ethan scowled. He wanted to hug Benji. Why hadn’t he hugged Benji when he arrived? Now he’d missed his chance.

“My pleasure, Hawkeye,” Benji said.

“Hawkeye?” Ethan said blankly.

Benji laughed, making his face crease adorably. “We’ve got to get you to the cinema more often, Ethan.”

Ethan tore his gaze away from Benji’s eye crinkles and said, “I’d go if I had someone to go with.”

There was an awkward pause, and Brandt boomed out, “So—there’s a computer in the guest room if you want to go help Ethan with his problem. With his email problem, I mean.”

“What email problem?” Benji asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing. No big deal. I’m sure I can figure it out—” Ethan protested.

“Benji doesn’t mind, right, buddy?” Brandt practically pushed both of them down the hall in the direction of the spare bedroom. “Take your time!”

Ethan thought he heard Benji hiss at Brandt, “What the hell are you doing?” but Brandt ignored him, shutting the door firmly behind them. Suddenly they were alone in a cozy bedroom, a queen sized bed on one side, a desk with a laptop on the opposite wall. Ethan could hear the music being turned up as Brandt rejoined his party guests. They were alone. In a room with a bed. Ethan took off his borrowed sunglasses, smiled hesitantly at Benji.

Benji smiled back, but then he frowned. Ethan wasn’t expecting what he said next. “Why did you choose that costume, Ethan?”

Ethan glanced down at himself. “This? Brandt picked it out.”

Benji seemed to deflate a little at that. “Oh. That makes sense.”

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Uh,” Benji laughed uncomfortably, rubbing the side of his neck with his hand in a nervous gesture. Why would Benji be nervous? Ethan was the one who felt off-kilter and exposed.

“Yeah. I like it. Brandt knows it. He’s just having a laugh at my expense, I guess.”

Ethan didn’t know what was going on with Benji and Brandt, but he did recognize the look in Benji’s eyes as they roamed over Ethan’s costume. Benji did like his costume. He liked it a lot. Ethan’s eyes widened. Okay, so maybe Benji had a little bit of an Air Force kink. Ethan could work with that. He stepped toward Benji, trying to channel a cocky flyboy. It wasn’t that hard, especially once he realized Benji’s breathing had sped up and his pupils were dilated.

“You like pilots?” Ethan asked, testing the waters.

Benji made an unintelligible noise. Ethan was encouraged. He threw the sunglasses down on the bed, kept walking until he was a foot away from Benji.

“I’ve flown a helicopter,” Ethan said. God, he was really reaching, but there was no mistaking the blush slowly staining Benji’s cheeks.

“Huh,” Benji said.

“Maybe we could go up together sometime?” Ethan took a fortifying breath, then touched Benji’s bare elbow with his hand and felt the electric shock throughout his entire body.

Benji jumped and stared down at where Ethan’s hand was touching his arm. “Um.”

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked. He hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

“Is this some kind of practical joke? Did Brandt put you up to this?” Benji shook his arm away and Ethan felt like he’d gotten something terribly wrong.

“What? No. What is going on with you and Brandt?” Ethan suddenly had the horrible thought that maybe Benji had feelings for Brandt or vice versa.

“Nothing—it’s just all this—you and sodding Maverick and fucking aviators—”

“I’m super confused right now,” Ethan said.

“That makes two of us,” Benji said.

They stood staring at each other for a minute until Benji made his uncomfortable laugh again and walked to the desk. He sat down and opened the laptop. “Let’s just chalk it up to a Halloween trick, okay? Now, what’s going on with your email?”

“There’s nothing going on with my email.”

Benji swiveled in the desk chair until he was facing Ethan. “Then what—”

“I told Brandt that because I didn’t want to tell him the real reason I wanted to see you.”

“Oh. Something above his pay grade?” Benji quirked an eyebrow.

“No, it’s not about work. I wanted to see you because, well, I always want to see you.”

Benji didn’t say anything, so Ethan plowed on. He hadn’t planned this, but suddenly, he needed Benji to know. He needed to know if there was any way Benji might feel a little bit the same way. “I missed you. I miss you when we’re not together. I think I might—I mean, I know I have…feelings for you. Non-friendly feelings. I mean, yes, friendly feelings, but more than that. Non-platonic feelings.”

“Non-platonic? As in…” Benji’s gaze dropped to Ethan’s body and back up to his face.

Ethan swallowed. His mouth was dry. “As in sexual.” Just like that, the atmosphere in the room became thick as honey.

“Ah,” Benji said. “I see.”

“Do you?” Ethan dropped to his knees at Benji’s feet, so he was slotted between Benji’s open legs. He felt the heat coming off of Benji, and could smell his particular scent of freshly sharpened pencils and cinnamon gum. “Do you see what you do to me, Benji?” He tipped his head up and Benji met him halfway in the sweetest, softness kiss imaginable. Benji’s lips were smooth and dry, his gingery beard tickled Ethan’s chin and made him long to feel those bristles all over his body. He was hard as a rock and they hadn’t even touched tongues yet.

Benji broke off the kiss. “I have those feelings, too, you know.”

“You do?” Ethan felt like the luckiest man alive.

“I do. Friendly feelings. Non-platonic feelings. Sexual feelings. The whole range,” Benji confirmed with a smile. “But I’m afraid my feelings veer into the ‘love’ category as well. So if sex is all you’re looking for, we should probably call it a day before it gets messy.”

Ethan was humbled by Benji’s matter-of-fact declaration. And if he felt lucky before, now he felt like this was too good to be true. “We’re not calling it a day. You’re going to be stuck with me. Because I love you.”

In response, Benji kissed him, hard and long. This time their tongues tangled and Ethan felt the jolt of lust go straight to his cock. He pressed himself against Benji, and he felt Benji’s unmistakable arousal against his chest. Benji groaned and pressed against him, rutting slowly. Ethan thought he was going to die if he didn’t have his hands on Benji, right now.

“There’s a bed right there,” he said between kisses.

“Shame to let it go to waste,” Benji said. They stood together, groping and kissing. Without letting go of Benji, Ethan detoured to the door in order to lock it, and then they fell on the bed. Benji found the zipper to Ethan’s jumpsuit, laughed when he found a white undershirt underneath it. Ethan pulled off Benji’s tie, unbuttoned the white shirt to reveal Benji’s own white undershirt. Ethan kicked off his boots, wriggled out of the rest of the jumpsuit until he was clad only in his undershirt and a pair of white briefs. Benji followed suit, joining him in undershirt and dark blue boxers. Their erections showed behind their thin layers of cotton. Ethan wanted so much, he didn’t know where to start.

Benji seemed similarly overwhelmed. His beautiful eyes were rimmed in red. “I love you, Ethan.”

Ethan shuddered out a shaky breath. “I love you, Benji.”

After that, it was easy. First slow, then fast. Hands exploring, mouths tasting. Ethan loved the feeling of Benji’s beard brushing over all of his most sensitive places. Benji groaned when Ethan clamped his lips over Benji’s nipples, teasing them to hard buds. Their bodies found both softness and friction, reaching almost unbearable levels of arousal before they came, panting, against each other’s skin. Sweat and saliva and semen combined, sealing them together with their particular cocktail of love and lust.

They lay together, slotted into each other as if they’d been made to do so.

“This room smells like sex,” Benji remarked. He kissed the side of Ethan’s head.

“I guess we have to apologize to Brandt,” Ethan said.

“Apologize? He’s the one who owes us an apology!”

“What for?”

“For—for orchestrating this whole thing. He gave you that costume after I told him I had a thing for Maverick back in the day. He knew how I felt about you. He was trying to force my hand, make me do something about it.”

“Is that what this was about? He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me like that?” Ethan chuckled. “He was manipulating us. But it worked.”

“Well, I’m still mad. I think we should have sex at least twice more in his bed—and leave the laundry for him to clean up.”

“That’s a punishment I can get on board with,” Ethan said. “He tricked us—we get the treat.” He kissed Benji again, knowing it was a sensation he’d never tire of. Loving him was sweeter than candy.

“And later, I’ve got another treat for you,” Benji said. “You’re coming back to mine and we’re doing a movie marathon. I’m going to catch you up on the last ten years of pop culture. You’re not going to have an excuse, anymore, Ethan. You have someone to go to the movies with from now on.”

“I’m counting on it.”