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13.
Inappropriate

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BACKSTAGE AT THE QYRA benefit, Ryan straightened Ben’s tie.

“Almost there,” Ben said. “Then maybe something we haven’t done in a while.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. For the performance that night, every man backstage wore a jewel-tone dress shirt, black tie, and black slacks. Ryan wouldn’t have chosen a bright berry-colored shirt for Ben, but the color darkened his lashes and eyes to good effect.

“Mmm, I can think of lots of good things we can do together. Though most of those things involve privacy and maybe an empty guest room.”

“Travis is leaving tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait,” Ryan said. “I mean, can’t wait for the weekend with you. I’m going to go get seats. Break a leg up there.”

Ben pulled him close as they kissed. Ryan wanted to push it, untuck Ben’s raspberry shirt, get a hand on his bare skin, grind against him, but this wasn’t the place. Still, the intensity of Ben’s kiss made up for last night, for missing each other this morning.

“No kissing boyfriends backstage!” Jamie dug a knuckle into Ryan’s shoulder, but grinned and winked.

Ben didn’t let go, his arms still around Ryan.

“I know you want to hold on to him because he such a good kisser.” Jamie leered, then cracked up as if he’d told a joke. “Fair enough, but people are arriving. It’s time to pay attention to something else.” He walked away, checking in on the readiness of other performers, though it wasn’t his place. The stress of working for Jamie must be intense. He’d be in everything.

“Inappropriate.” Ben watched Jamie walk away.

“But would you like him more if he wasn’t?”

“No, it’s the base of his personality. He can be fun. Working with him the last couple weeks, I can almost see what you saw in him. Almost.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Go sing, B. I’m going to go find the best view of you.”

In the audience, Ryan found that Steven and John had secured most of a whole row of seats for their friends. Ryan rearranged the jackets spread on the vacant chairs, adding his to increase the appearance of occupancy. Nodding to John on the far side, Ryan sat down next to Steven, both of them much more relaxed than the previous night.

“You look like you got some sleep.” Steven kissed Ryan’s cheek. “I love that sweater on you. Marcus’s store?”

“Marcus always coming through for us.” It was a mottled green-and-black cable-knit, cotton and silk. Another choice of Ben’s. Ryan knew that the store might disappear but didn’t say as much to Steven. Marcus would make it public when he was ready. “You are glowing. I thought you were gorgeous in purple last night, but this is even better.”

Steven’s button-down, abstract from a distance, was a wave of tiny green and blue flowers that stunningly reflected in his green eyes.

“The party was a success. Shane did a great job putting it together.”

“Shane? I had no idea. Who knew he was a party planner, too?”

John laughed. “It taps into his own kind of creating, making things beautiful. He loves making people happy. Never let his gruff exterior fool you.”

Ryan laughed until he coughed. Steven slapped him on the back. “That’s a joke, right? Shane’s the least gruff person I’ve ever met. Besides maybe Bash, who looks the part when he’s not smiling, but only because he’s so big. It was good to see both of them last night.”

Steven’s expression turned serious. “So, what happened last night? Ben left, and everyone was talking about you and Jamie in a corner.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.” The buzzing undercurrent of last night’s anger resurfaced, yet diffused by Ben’s touch. “Jamie and I weren’t doing anything but talking. And salsa dancing.”

“Nothing untoward about salsa dancing in a dark corner with an ex.” Steven’s deadpan expression didn’t sell it as a joke.

“You don’t know what they’ve negotiated in their relationship.” John winked at Ryan. In many previous group conversations, often only John understood Ryan and Ben’s open relationship, talking and joking about it appropriately. Everyone else had strong, generally incorrect opinions.

“But everything is okay between you and Ben?”

“Okay as it can be until we have time to talk.” Ryan explained about the fight over the girl at the gallery, their apartment building going condo, and the days in the hospital. The explanation sounded less dire than the experience felt, all easily overcome with a deep, honest conversation, if they ever had time for it. But the ongoing parts still bothered Ryan, the parts he’d never be able to control, like Ben’s job.

“I love Ben more for all the things he does. The Men’s Chorus, the hospice volunteering, how he shows up to help with people’s events and whatever they need. Until he started working more, the time those things take didn’t bother me at all. A couple of hours a day, a few weekends a month. It adds up. It’s...” Ryan searched for the words.

“It takes time away from you.” Steven clasped Ryan’s hand, then released it to wave at the back of the room.

“I don’t want to be the reason Ben restricts what he wants to do.”

Marcus made his way toward them.

“These are all ours?” Marcus moved the jacket from the seat next to Ryan and sat down, then greeted John and Steven.

“Everything work out last night?” He asked Ryan.

“Mostly. Though we haven’t even talked about it. A lot going on.”

“I’m sure you’ve been fretting over the apartment.”

“I don’t fret.”

“Mm-hmm. So, you guys have decided to buy then?”

Marcus wouldn’t let it go, even if Ryan tried to divert his attention. “Buying a home is bigger than relationship commitment. It’s legal entanglement.”

Steven chuckled and squeezed Ryan’s knee. “You’re worried about the commitment? John and I waited a year to move in together. You and Ben did it in three months.”

“That was—well, it was convenience. Adrian and I needed another roommate after your replacement didn’t work out. And Ben needed a place to live.” However, Ryan had never harbored doubts about Ben moving in. Maybe he hadn’t considered the risks then, when he felt so sure about Ben.

“So how is this different? You still think he’s ‘the One,’ right?” Marcus’s prodding was why Ryan ever sought his counsel—and also why he avoided it.

“Ben’s the best guy you’ve been with, Ryan. I want it to work for you guys. If buying that apartment is about money, maybe I should give you a job,” Steven said.

“What could I possibly do for you?”

“Cover the walls in art?”

“I can churn out corporate-appropriate, technically perfect pictures by the dozens for you. Though Veronica assures me that’s not what companies want for art collections.”

“Yes, it’s all about having fine-art buyers to display your success and commitment to the community. Or that’s what John’s clients tell us. In fact, that’s why Travis was at the party last night, to make a connection with John. Hmm, maybe I should hire him?”

“Who? Travis?”

“Ben.”

“Ben already has a good job.” Ryan answered automatically. But was Ben happy? Ryan never considered that Ben might not be happy in the parts of his life separate from Ryan. Steven wouldn’t force Ben to work long hours.

“That can’t be true. There’s no creativity, nothing of himself to put into his current job. Plus, if long hours bother you, I can make sure he always leaves on time.” Steven seemed to read Ryan’s mind.

“Don’t mention it to Ben, yet? But maybe we should talk about that. What if he really is unhappy at his job? Is there something he could do for you?”

“There absolutely is, but I’ll think about it and see if can come up with the perfect job for him. So he can’t refuse.”

Lisa, Shane, and Bash arrived. In the chaos of everyone saying hellos down the row, Travis came in. Common courtesy meant Ryan should wave Travis over, offer one of their unoccupied seats, make or renew introductions, and be a good host, since Travis didn’t know anyone else here. The last thing Ryan needed was more Travis in his life. However, Ryan flagged Travis down and pointed to the last two chairs. “We’ve got a seat over here if you want it.”

“Thanks.” Travis wore a red-and-blue striped tie that matched one of Ben’s.

“These are my friends.” Ryan started closest to Travis. “Lisa Sanders, Shane Fontaine, Bash Kamenev, Steven Frazier, John Pieters. This is Ben’s friend, Travis Leverett. He’s in town for a couple days for work.”

Travis sat, then leaned way over, calling down the whole row. “John, we didn’t get a chance to meet last night. Of course, I already knew who you were. I try to track anyone who’s buying decent art. You suggest a lot of art sales for your clients, don’t you?”

“I do. It’s a good investment.”

“Let me—here, do you mind?” Travis indicated he wanted to switch seats with Ryan.

With no polite way to say no, since he’d set up the situation, Ryan settled in next to Lisa, letting Travis monopolize John.

Travis produced business cards, handed one to John, then another to Steven. “Call me when you’re serious about acquiring art for your business.”

Lisa held Ryan’s hand, pulling it into her lap. “He seems nice.” She nodded down to Travis.

“He’s not.”

On the other side of Lisa, Shane raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. The lights dimmed, the room hushed. Lisa squeezed his hand, and Ryan focused his attention where it belonged.

Ben came on the stage with the rest of the chorus.

The tickets, incredibly expensive—how else did you raise funds?—were worth it for a lighthearted show with pop hits and torch standards. Ben’s solo was surely sung only to Ryan. Ben’s voice was as provoking as his touch.

After the show, they all waited in the lobby for Ben and Jamie.

“How’s your new house?” Shane asked John.

“The house is wonderful, though we’re barely unpacked and not at all settled.” John gestured, twisting his hand to indicate chaos. They’d bought a new house on Lake Washington. Steven insisted they’d been looking only for fun, but waterfront property with a view of Mount Rainier on a clear day? Even with terrible timing, it wasn’t an opportunity to pass up.

“The new house is amazing.” Steven put his arm around Ryan, dropping his voice. “I want to do something for you. Not even about Ben, just for you. For your work. For your upcoming show.”

Ryan smiled, though Travis overheard Steven mention Ben. “I don’t know what you could do. I need to commit to a project for Eli’s show. Maybe I need a change of scenery for inspiration.”

Steven’s eye crinkled at the corners, adding sparkle to his smile. “What kind of change of scenery? Because our Sixteenth Avenue house isn’t up for sale yet. You could set up there to paint for a few days. Weeks even. We have to settle our lives before we deal with that.”

Ryan considered. “It’s worth a try.”

Steven clapped his hands. “If you need art space, I’ll give you all the art space I can.” He pulled out his keys and twisted one off the ring, offering it to Ryan. “Now, where are we going? Is everyone coming?”

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The next night, Ben wasn’t home yet when Ryan returned from work. And Travis was absent. Ryan changed out of his work clothes and sat on the sofa to plan his answers to the conversation they needed to have that night. The apologies.

“You look so peaceful.”

Ryan’s whole body twitched, adrenaline snapping him from a dim haze back to the living room.

Ben stood in front of Ryan with a hand outstretched. Handsome in a pink oxford, under a rusty sweater, with grey trousers, his grey wool coat unbuttoned. Sleep-bleary and confused, Ryan blinked Ben into clarity.

“Shake it off.” Ben mimicked a dog shaking and then laughed. “You don’t want to miss out. Big night, and it starts now.”

Ben pulled Ryan up by his hand and grabbed Ryan’s nice black coat off the hook in hallway, holding it up for Ryan to put on after he locked the door.

They went out the back way into the courtyard that they hardly ever used, since everything anyone would walk to was in the other direction. They passed through the beautiful grass swathe with a fountain surrounded by drooping dahlias in reds and yellows. Then they cut through the parking lot to come out half way down Roy Street.

The hillside next to their building was a shadowy, tree-sheltered, eighteen-percent grade, so steep that walking down it was hard work. The only people who drove it intentionally were neighborhood residents desperate enough to park on it. Half a block west and they hit Melrose Avenue running parallel to the freeway dozens of feet below. The hillside dropped away like a concrete cliff. Ben stopped at the railing. An unassuming street in a modest neighborhood with a spectacular view of the entire city.

In front of them was Lake Union, shadowed now by Queen Anne Hill on the far side. The bright spike of the Space Needle, then the glittering glass blocks of downtown Seattle to the southwest. Puget Sound, the islands, and the mountains beyond that. Due west, the horizon bisected the sun, a deep fiery peach ready to fall behind the Olympics into the ocean. An especially pleasing early autumn evening where the flat, grim sky split open for a fantastical light show between the horizon and the grey above.

“I saw it when I was parking. I didn’t want to miss it.” Hands on the railing, Ben leaned forward to chase the sun on its journey west.

The sun dropped lower, sparking and flashing colors through strips of clouds, while they watched silently until only the last rays were visible over the Olympic mountains. Calm filled Ryan for the first time in days, weeks even. A faint chill came with the twilight, but freshened the air.

“Remember how we used to do this almost every day when I first moved in?” Ben turned his back to the sky and faced Ryan.

“You always wanted to see the sunset, even when I said there wasn’t going to be one.”

“You were nearly always right. I still believed ‘west coast’ meant it was no different than California.”

Ryan said nothing, his heart too full while recollecting Ben’s excitement over this spectacular view right behind their apartment. The outlook was always unoccupied, except on the Fourth of July, when the whole city came down for the unobstructed view of the fireworks.

In the twilight Ryan mapped their whole world from high above, tracing the path they’d walked on that first date, which disappeared behind the southern curve of Queen Anne Hill. Even obscured by buildings or hills, he knew the exact location of all the places they’d gone together, the places they loved.

Ryan locked in the memory of this view. The next clear day, he’d bring his camera down. He’d never painted a landscape so vast, but this one was worth saving. The sun, not quite gone, left a blue-white crown on the mountains.

“Hungry?” Ben pulled Ryan’s hand into his pocket to keep it warm in the cooling air.

“Starving. Pizza? I didn’t get groceries yet.”

Ben shook his head. “No. I want to take you out. If we walk up to Broadway, maybe we’ll be done talking about all the big things by the time we get there, and we can enjoy each other’s company. Then I have a surprise.”

The calming power of watching an entire sunset was nothing on Ben’s bright smile. Apology and forgiveness all at once, no words needed.

“What surprise?”

“If I tell you now, it ruins the anticipation.”

If Ryan pushed it, Ben would break quickly. But Ryan waited, pleased with the sensation of normalcy.

“How was work?”

Ben rolled his neck, and Ryan heard his vertebrae pop. “The kind of day where I wish I never had to go back there again. But I don’t have to go in over the weekend, so that’s something. How was your day?”

Hope bubbled up at the possibility of Steven making a good job for Ben. If Ben didn’t even want to go back now, Ryan was on the right track, trying to fix Ben’s work situation to be better for both of them.

“My day was uneventful. The kind where you daydream about all the other things you could possibly be doing.”

“Like studying in Japan?” Ben still glowed with excitement about his surprise. Ryan didn’t think Ben would make it to dinner before he broke and shared.

“That’s always been a dream, just never practical, affordable, or possible. But thinking about painting kneeling on tatami mats, overlooking a gorgeous garden, is certainly better than wondering if you’re going to get good customers for shoes.”

They walked south on Melrose until they got to a less steep hill to walk up the four blocks towards Broadway and their choice of many restaurants. Not far to walk if they were going to talk everything through before they found someplace to eat. The city lit up, preparing for night, warm cubes of light in apartment buildings on the far side of the freeway, stranger light coming from streetlights blinking on.

The sidewalk and empty street stayed blue as the sun vanished. Ryan searched for an easier place to begin the conversation than the Sunday fight.

“So. The apartment?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Ben said. “You’ve already done your pros and cons?”

“No. I called Gramma for advice, and that’s how I ended up in the hospital with Mrs. Hino.”

Ben squeezed Ryan’s hand. “I know you like to calculate and list things to think them through. Do you want to do that before we talk about it? We have plenty of time.”

They passed the stairs at Republican Street where the condos mimicked the set dressing for Miami Vice. How did these get built into part of Seattle where a block in either direction were brick buildings from the 1920s? Nor did they match the aesthetic of the blocky 1963 World’s Fair-era buildings decorated with cheerful Nordic or Native American tribal designs that popped up on this part of the hill.

Ryan appreciated Ben knowing his process on things like this. “I’d like to have more time to think about it. I want to make sure we’re asking each other the right questions before we sit down to talk.”

“Totally fine. What’s next on the list?” Ben asked.

At Harrison Street, they took the pedestrian stairs, longer than Republican Street a block earlier, but less steep. A block further, the hill leveled out to an easier to walk, but it didn’t have the romantic park-like break that this cut-through did. The first time Ryan brought them this way, Ben was thrilled, insisting it was like a secret street in San Francisco that nobody knew except those who live here. Trees over hung the stairs, but the darkness underneath was undifferentiated from the rest of the area, urban ambient light keeping everything clear enough to prevent stumbling in the dark. There was an old-city charm to walking these paths that cut between brick buildings where cars couldn’t go.

“Travis, I guess.”

“What about him?” Ben’s brow furrowed. “We had lunch today. I was right. He didn’t find it funny at all that you thought he was one of our tricks. But I still think it’s funny.”

“It’s been hard to talk with him here. We need space.” So much space. The space one had if Travis went back to New York.

“I took him to the airport after lunch today.”

Ben reading Ryan’s mind on the small things made Ryan wish Ben could do the big things too, saving Ryan the pain of talking about the hard things.

“Good.”

Best left alone, not talked about before a mountain was made from a tiny pebble in Ryan’s shoe. Still, Travis’s hands on Ben were a pebble Ryan couldn’t shake out.

“So, since we have the place to ourselves...” Ben drew out the words, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yes?”

“Do you work tomorrow?” Ben practically bounced on his toes.

Ryan didn’t have to ask to make Ben break on the surprise reveal. He suppressed a smile, not letting on how much Ben’s easiness amused him.

“No, but I have a coffee date with Eli about the show. Why do you ask?”

“Remember that guy I told you about when Shane and I went dancing a couple of months ago? Dillon?”

“I do.”

“It’s possible that I called this afternoon to see if he was still interested in the arrangement I offered when he hit on me. He’s free tonight...”

“Why, Mr. Ladner, are you suggesting that we bring home another man and have a threesome?” Winded, from the steepness of the hill, Ryan sounded even more suggestive than he intended. His memory of Harrison Street as the least steep way up was proven wrong for this one block.

Ben laughed. “It’s been almost a month. No time to do anything fun recently. I thought maybe I better make up for that. You up for it?”

The hill flattened, and the street widened. Broadway was one more block up, colorful lights of passing traffic darting by on the busy street.

“I could be persuaded.”

“What else can I persuade you to do tonight? Left to get Thai, or right to the Broadway Grill?”

“Left.”

At dinner, Ben appeared no more inclined to spoil their lovely evening by bringing up what they’d fought over, or everything else left to discuss. They were both happier focusing on what tonight would bring with Dillon in their empty guest room.