They had agreed to meet at Benji's flat while his friends were around as part of the plan to continue taking things slow. But they agreed that it made sense to speed things up at this point; after all, they would both be in London for at least another two years, most likely longer given their circumstances.

Benji had gotten used to the city, drawn to the sensation of freedom and calm it provided. Going back to Atlanta meant disrupting the carefully cultivated life and routine he had built for him; it would mean digging up and cutting the study yet delicate roots that he'd placed into the soil a year ago, which had expanded their depth and breadth, not to be removed without force.

Victor, on the other hand, was still in the honeymoon stage, fascinated with every new encounter, each ride on one of the red buses, each day's view of the River, each new part of the city he would discover on one of his walks. The novelty still hadn't worn off; but he was easy to please, had shallow roots, and didn't require much -- something of a desert cactus; all he needed was a little bit of light and he was happy, even among the many-hundreds-of-years-old cobblestone and pavement.

It was a Saturday afternoon, overcast but raining like droplets flung from the tips of leaves in the forest by the wind rather than a true rain. Victor had taken the Underground west from Warren Street to South Kensington so he wouldn't have to properly brave the elements.

Humming along to one of the songs Soledad played on her piano, Benji smashed some avocados into a paste, adding some chili flakes, lime juice, and salt and pepper and mixing it all together in a bowl. He set it all aside and lifted the cover of the pot within which water simmered on the stove, with several eggs floating like little galaxies seen from light years away as they poached. On one of the other burners, a skillet with some pancakes sizzled away, and Benji waited a moment for then to start bubbling a bit before he flipped them over.

He glanced down at his phone where it lay on the counter, tapping the screen to see a notification that Victor had messaged him telling him he was on his way over. Smiling to himself for a moment, he jumped when he heard the toaster ejecting the slices of bread he'd put in before. Removing the toast with his bare, calloused hands, Benji set it on the plate with the other pieces of toast that he had covered before wiping his hands on the front of his apron. He removed his apron before he picked up the bowl of fruit he'd cut and carried it to the living room, where his friends awaited impatiently, resisting the urge to help him, because he had insisted on preparing the spread himself, and Soledad had declared rather bluntly that she would have too much trouble stopping herself from poisoning Victor's food so she didn't want to be held responsible for handling it.

The doorbell rang as Benji was in the process of bringing the food into the living room. He set down the remaining items before jogging over to open the door, revealing a sopping, grinning Victor, eyes sparkling down at him.

"Mornin'."

"Mornin'. Come on in. Shoes off, please."

Benji stepped back to allow Victor to enter, not bothering to hide his own smile as he watched the other close the door behind him and hang his surprisingly dressy burgundy peacoat up on one of the hooks before kicking off his shoes -- they weren't sneakers, for once, but instead a pair of stylish brown boots -- and setting them neatly against the wall. Biting his lip, Benji gave Victor a once-over, noting his navy turtleneck, which Victor had tucked into a pair of grey plaid slacks. For a moment, they simply stood there, gazing at each other, and Benji thought he imagined the sound of their hearts tapping against their rib cages in the same cadence, each holding his breath and waiting for the other to say something.

"Did you change your wardrobe?" Benji ventured, making a show of raking his eyes down Victor's body and then up again.

"Uh... yeah. I figured it was time for me to dress more like an adult. Coming to London kinda gave me an excuse to make the change."

Giving Victor a sly look as he ran a hand through his hair, Benji leaned against the wall. He said: "It suits you."

"Thanks," Victor said, gaze softening as a hint of pink tinged his cheeks. "The eyeliner suits you, too."

Raising an eyebrow, Benji opened his mouth to respond before he closed it. He'd completely forgotten that he had been wearing it.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks," Benji replied, eyes steady despite the pink stains that painted his own face, chewing on his lip for a moment before tipping his head to the side and asking: "... Can I hug you?"

Victor only nodded before slipping his arms around Benji's back, their bodies naturally finding one another and fitting together like pieces of stone that had broken off the same cliff, as they had countless times before. Benji buried his face in Victor's chest, the soft material of his sweater comforting, the smell of rain and mint and cedarwood almost intoxicating -- but Benji knew better. He wrapped his arms around Victor's lower back, gripping at his sides, nails almost digging into skin. Victor's eyes fluttered closed as he rested his cheek against Benji's hair; they stood like that in the foyer, ignorant of their audience or the fact that some time had passed. Benji could fall asleep in Victor's embrace.

Soledad cleared her throat before she spoke. "The food's gonna get cold."

Reluctantly, Benji and Victor separated, taking their time in untangling their limbs from each other. Benji winked at Victor before their hands found each other again, fingers weaving together like threads on a loom pressed together tightly to form a colorful tapestry, embroidered with gold and silver. They walked together to the living room, because the kitchen would have been far too crowded for all of them, where Benji introduced Victor to his friends, some who he had already met via video calls ages ago, some who he had not.

Leaving Victor to settle in on the couch, Benji marched back into the kitchen, returning with a kettle full of tea in one hand and a French press with fresh-brewed coffee in the other. He set them down on the table before sitting down in the space between Victor and Soledad, as if this was where he was meant to be, all of them threads in the same cloth.

They chatted idly while they ate, Victor and Benji knocking elbows as they cast each other side-long glances, making Soledad roll her eyes. She chuckled at them despite herself; even though Victor had annoyed her ever since he had broken up with Benji, maybe she could give him a chance and forgive him, too. But she was watching him.

"So, Benji... you prepared all this on your own?" Victor asked gently after taking a bite of pancakes, eyes crinkling at the corners. Making pancakes for himself just wasn't the same.

"Yeah... I hope you like it," Benji said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"It's delicious," Victor replied, beaming. He took another bite.

"Thanks," Benji said, eyes shining as he and Victor shared a moment of simply holding each other's gazes.

Chuckling as he broke eye contact, Benji took another bite of his avocado toast before sipping a bit of tea.

"Benji wouldn't let us touch anything," Soledad mused, "which is probably for the better because I definitely would have fucked something up. Too bad Ish isn't here, though, he's good at this sort of thing, too. You'd have let him help."

Victor paused mid-chew, limbs tensing. His eyes darted between Benji, who was giving Soledad the most venomous death glare, and Soledad, who was smirking as she took a long gulp of coffee. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became very uncomfortable, the air oppressive, the tension palpable and sticky like a wall of gelatin between them.

"Soledad, can you not?" Benji said, gritting his teeth.

"What? I'm just saying."

"I thought we agreed not to discuss... him."

"Fine, fine. Sorry," Soledad replied with a click of her tongue.

Falling silent for a moment, Benji took a deep breath before exhaling. Victor rested his hand on the middle of Benji's back.

"Are you okay?" Victor whispered in his ear so as to not draw attention from the others.

"Mhm. I just didn't want him to come up because... well, it's uncomfortable as fuck and honestly pretty embarrassing. Reminds me of a huge mistake I made," Benji whispered back, blinking a few times to clear his eyes.

"If it's any consolation, I'm not upset about it anymore. Like, it was shocking to hear at first, but I'm over it."

"Oh."

Victor's lips curled up slightly. "Yeah. It's in the past now, anyway."

"True. Thanks for being so understanding," Benji replied with a nod.

"What are you two whispering about over there?" Soledad asked, eyebrows raised. "Care to share with the class?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but we were just having a little argument over whether Lady Gaga or Beyoncé is more iconic," Victor quipped.

"Oh, Beyoncé, obviously," Soledad replied without missing a beat.

"Thank you," Victor replied, smacking himself in the forehead. "That's what I was saying."

Glancing at Victor from the corner of his eye, Benji couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face, his pointed teeth glinting in the late morning light. Soledad giggled even though she was trying not to.

"Okay, okay. I hate you less now knowing that information," Soledad said, dabbing at her face with a napkin.

"Thanks?" Victor replied, eyebrow quirked as he chuckled, too.

Their brunch continued onward with far less tension than before, the cloud that had descended earlier dissipating, leaving clean air in its wake. Once they finished, Victor offered to help with cleaning up as a means of saying thank you for the meal and hospitality. Benji breathed a sigh of relief that Victor had charmed his way into his friends' hearts -- even Soledad's, her tough exoskeleton sloughing off and refusing to harden as she and Victor continued their banter while he washed dishes.

Once Victor had finished, Benji invited him to his room, which Victor eagerly accepted.

"I finally cleaned up a bit because it was getting a bit hard to move around in here," Benji explained as he pushed open the door to his room and stepped aside for Victor to enter before him.

"This is clean?" Victor teased as he took in the paintings and messy scrawled compositions Benji had placed on his desk and wherever there was room for them.

Benji rolled his eyes as he sat down on his bed. "Haha. I made the bed, at least. You can sit down if you want."

Victor hummed as he examined the paintings in more detail. They were mostly landscapes, many of them of different views of an island which Victor recognized from Benji's Instagram.

"These are from the Canary Islands, right? I may have stalked your Instagram while we were broken up and I'm not really proud of it..."

"I did the same thing... But yeah. I kinda got in the habit of painting scenery to... take my mind off things. Since I was supposed to be trying to get over being dumped by my muse," Benji replied, but there was no bitterness in his voice.

Heart fluttering, Victor turned to face Benji before sitting beside him on the bed, leaving a few inches of space between them. "You definitely got better. I guess it's true what they say... that pain fuels creativity."

"Mmm, not always. I like a lot of the stuff I created when I got... happier. The emo stuff isn't always better, just different. I have a bunch of songs I composed when I was supposed to be doing homework, too. But a lot of them are... really self indulgent."

"It's good that you're happier now, though. And sometimes it's beneficial to do something self-indulgent for your own sake, just because you want to, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. Being an artist is so weird... Like on one hand, we're supposed to produce work for other people to consume, but on the other, we're encouraged to create what we like and it's like... how do you compromise these ideas without feeling like what you're doing is meaningless? I feel like that's been one of my major struggles. Not just as an artist but in... being alive."

"That does sound frustrating," Victor acknowledged, stroking his facial hair as he thought. "I wish I could give you an answer that made sense."

"The best I've got is 'art for art's sake' and I'm trying to be okay with that... when you try to find meaning in everything it can be a bit disappointing."

"True. I'm at the point where I've just... stopped trying to find out what things mean. Sometimes the universe is shit and nothing truly means anything. Maybe there's no grand design. But it doesn't matter. Because it's not up to the universe, it's up to us to define things for ourselves."

"This got deep really fast," Benji mused. "Kinda heavy stuff for a post-brunch chat."

"Okay, fine, I may have just finished reading No Exit, maybe that's why."

"Nerd."

"Why don't you read some works by 20th century existentialist philosophers and maybe you'll calm down."

Knocking his knee against Victor's, Benji laughed softly to himself. "I still stand by my initial assessment that you're a huge nerd."

Chuckling, Victor slid a bit closer to Benji, watching as Benji mirrored him. They shifted a bit, leaning up against the wall to get more comfortable. Silence fell between them for a moment, but it felt natural.

"Hey, Vic," Benji said after a moment, catching sight of himself in the mirror as he rested his head on the wall close to Victor's shoulder, staring at him.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Can you take some pictures of me? Just like, on my own."

Victor's eyes widened, eyebrows shooting into his hairline. Benji was usually reluctant to be photographed for his own sake, so this was unexpected to Victor; but he would never be upset about having more photos of Benji, so he agreed immediately.

"Sure. Anything in particular you had in mind?"

"Mmm... no just... how I am now is fine. I've never seen myself in like, a candid photo with no preparation. For some reason I'm just.... Feelin' myself. Maybe it's what you said about like... creating our own meaning or something."

Grinning, Victor took out his phone and opened up the camera app, directing the camera at Benji's face as he sat beside him on the bed, the afternoon light -- which had replaced the dark grey from the rain clouds for the moment -- illuminating him from behind as if he were some otherworldly being exiting the heavens. Victor blinked, pushing the thought away. He didn't need the fantasy; reality was already so much better.

Snapping a few photos of Benji curled up beside him in his burgundy knit sweater, face placid like the surface of a frozen lake, hair tousled with some strands falling into his eyes, Victor then handed his phone to Benji so he could examine his handiwork. Raising his eyebrows as he went through the gallery, Benji exhaled quietly. "I... can't find anything wrong with any of these."

"Were you expecting to?" Victor asked, sliding closer to Benji so their shoulders made contact. Benji leaned into his touch, turning his head to look at Victor but pausing, breath hitching in his throat when he realized the proximity to Victor's lips, which were an inch away for now. Benji swallowed.

"Umm... I was. I always remember looking terrible. Or at least, I didn't like how I looked when I was photographed, especially close-ups. But these look... really good. I'm still shook. I usually just take them quickly and send them without actually looking at them because I usually hate them but... Is it weird for me to say that I'm actually good looking?"

"I'm glad you like them," Victor whispered, eyes warm and shining with adoration as he gazed upon Benji's face, the other still staring at his phone with a puzzled expression. "For the record, I agree with your assessment that you definitely are good looking. Gorgeous, in fact. But I'm glad you're seeing that for yourself."

Benji smiled a soft, content smile as he raised his own pupils to Victor. Hearing what he finally knew to be true, something that he could actually believe, warmed Benji's heart. He could feel the glow permeate his veins, pushing out the tar of self-hatred and replacing it with the oxygen of self-love. While he didn't need Victor's affirmation, he liked hearing it, and he wanted to hear more of it.

"Thank you," Benji replied, beaming. "Can you send these to me?"

"Yeah, I'll do that now."

Victor did as Benji asked before setting his phone aside and resting his hand in his lap as he simply observed Benji, who glanced at him from the corner of his eye before shifting to face him directly, letting the side of his head rest against the wall. They allowed their gazes to linger for some time in comfortable silence, breathing in unison, their bodies already connected if only at the shoulders; if either of them raised their hands from their laps, they could connect their fingers again with one movement alone. But they didn't.

"So, I'm gonna paint..." Benji said, clapping his hands on his knees as he rose from his seat. "I just had a sudden burst of inspiration."

"Wait!"

Pausing his stride, Benji turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"Are you free next week on like... Saturday morning? Say... 11?"

"Why? Y'askin' me on a date?"

"It depends on what you want it to be... Do you want it to be a date or just two friends spending the day together?"

Biting his lip, Benji thought about it, not even trying to suppress the grin that spread across his face at this point. He sat down beside Victor again. "I want it to be a date. We could have... first date, 2.0, London edition. And I can show you around the area. It's really pretty, generally, but especially at night. And I don't know if you noticed but it gets dark at like 4 o'clock."

"That would be awesome," Victor emitted a breathy chuckle, setting his hand down next to Benji on the bed, a silent invitation. "I'm glad we have time now."

"Yeah... you're right. Me, too."

"Is kissing still off the table?" Victor asked, shifting so that his nose hovered a centimeter from Benji's, eyes cast down as he fixed his stare on the other's soft, pink lips.

Benji's eyelids fluttered closed; he didn't hear any movement beside him, but he could sense Victor's citrus and berry breath hitting his face.

"We haven't even gone on our first date yet."

Victor bit his lip, pulling back a bit as Benji's eyes peeled open slightly and his head tipped to the side.

"So... next week..." Victor murmured as Benji leaned against his side, finally resting his head on Victor's shoulder and letting his hair fall in his face. Victor's lip curled up as he gazed into Benji's eyes, breath hitching in his throat. "I'm excited."

"Same," Benji breathed. If he leaned just a few millimeters to the side...

Swallowing, Victor looked away, but he couldn't bring himself to remove himself from Benji's vicinity.

"Can I watch you work?" Victor asked, trying to change the subject again. It had been too long since he had gotten to watch Benji in action.

"I'd like that, just... don't distract me with your face, please," Benji said as he leapt up from the bed and grabbed his supplies, spreading it out on the floor in front of his mirror.

Wrinkling his nose as he followed, Victor snorted. "I can't really help what my face looks like."

"That's not what I mean and you know it..."

"What do you mean, then?" Victor asked, sitting down beside Benji on the floor.

"Hmm... I kinda wanna do watercolors for this one, actually..." Benji murmured, glancing around his room in search of water and cups.

"Do what feels right."

Rummaging around in one of the corners of his room, Benji then returned, plopping down beside Victor again. He set his phone down on the opposite side of him, turning on some relaxing instrumental music. "What I mean is that you breathing and existing near me will make me want to paint you again."

"Yeah I was meaning to ask about that, actually. Because you used to almost exclusively paint portraits. The last one I saw was that one you painted in like... February. What happened?"

Benji bristled a bit, falling silent for a moment as he set a piece cloth down on the floor, followed by a piece of watercolor paper on top. He sketched quickly with a pencil while glancing at himself in the mirror every so often.

"Well, I was going through bad withdrawal and started spending more time on my own, trying to get used to it. Because I wanted to stop focusing so much on other people, I guess. I don't know... but you were the last actual human being I painted. Plus, nature is just... there. It doesn't expect anything of you and you always know where you stand."

Victor nodded, pondering Benji's words. "Now I feel a bit bad for asking if I could have that painting."

"I mean, it doesn't matter 'cause I destroyed it," Benji murmured, holding up the paper and comparing it to what he saw in the mirror.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Because it reminded you of me?"

"That, and looking at it made me want to kill myself."

Lip quivering, Victor stared at Benji, whose gaze was focused on correcting his work. He had said this so nonchalantly that Victor if Victor hadn't been paying attention, he would have thought Benji was talking about the weather.

"Don't worry, I'm not suicidal anymore," Benji added, noting Victor's apprehension. "Haven't been for a while."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Victor slid a bit closer to Benji on the floor, letting their shoulders touch again.

"I'm glad you're still here."

"Me, too. And please don't worry about me. I don't mean that in the 'I'm saying I'm fine but I'm not really fine' way, but genuinely. Things are under control."

A stray lock of hair fell in Benji's face as he bit his lip, deep in the throes of creative fury. Victor tucked it behind Benji's ear, leaning on his hand and simply observing. Glancing at him from the corner of his eye, Benji smirked as he began mixing his paints and applying the color to paper.

Victor always liked watching Benji work, because he would lose track of all forms of social etiquette, allowing himself to simply exist without the anxiety over being observed and perceived by others. It was the time when he was most himself, the most liberated and free from the bonds of social control and expectations. He understood why Benji chose to create. Tipping his head to the side, Victor wondered what it must be like to view oneself from the outside in order to create one's own likeness; he had never had a particularly creative mind for that.

When Benji finished, holding up the completed and still damp painting of himself, sat before his mirror, simply as he was, he searched for flaws as he always did, and, once again, found none. Blinking, he signed and dated the piece with a marker in the corner and clipped it to the wall to dry.

"It's so weird not nitpicking myself for silly things," Benji said as he cleaned up his supplies and shoved them back in the stash in his desk. "I know it sounds bizarre but being comfortable with myself is something that's definitely going to take some getting used to. When you get so used to external validation it's like... the stuff that used to hurt just... doesn't anymore."

"That's called growth," Victor replied with a smile. "And as usual, your painting is amazing. Probably the best one you've done to date."

"Thank you," Benji replied genuinely, no longer feeling the need to add a "but it's actually shit" to the end of the statement.

They were once again only inches from each other's faces, sharing a moment of unbreakable eye contact again. At this point it had grown dark outside.

"I had a lot of fun with you today," Benji acknowledged, breaking the silence as he stood up and stretched. "Even though you mostly just sat there and watched me. I hope it was fun for you, too."

"Yeah, I had fun, too. And I love any excuse to spend time with you and see you in your element. I should probably go, though."

Benji blushed, offering Victor a hand and helping him up. They exited Benji's room and wandered down the corridor, through the empty living room and to the foyer. Victor dressed himself, taking his time as he and Benji chatted. There was no need to prolong the moment, though; they would see each other soon.

Once Victor had dressed himself and slipped into his shoes, they embraced once again, parting easily this time.

"See you next week, Vic," Benji said, opening the door for Victor and letting in the cool air from outside, shivering.

"G'night, B. See you soon."

And with that, Victor disappeared into the night to catch the train. When Benji closed the door, he pressed his back up against it and sighed, biting his lip as a small smile threatened to overtake his face, growing with each new thought of what would come next week.

He checked the clock on the wall in the living room as he shuffled into the kitchen again. It was time for dinner.