#tgtbt

“Will you do me a favor and pinch me?” He turned to you after getting off the line with Dr. Kesting, eyes the size of gold doubloons and a smile just as bright. He let out a laugh that was just an excited burst of air as he dropped his phone to the striped cushion of the corner patio seat, palms falling to your thighs. “This has to be a dream.” 

You bit your bottom lip as it curled upwards in a grin and shook your head before leaning in to kiss him. Throwing your arms around his neck, you gave a tug to pull him closer as you lay back against the pillows. Bracing himself with one hand on either side of your rib cage, he followed you down eagerly until his chest was pressed to yours, his arms slipping behind and underneath your body. You sighed and he deepened the kiss, wondering how life could possibly get better than this moment, when he felt a sudden sharp sting on his tricep. 

“Ow-” he pulled back to look at you, eyebrows drawn together and an amused smirk quirking one cheek to the side. “I didn’t mean literally, you know, I-” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t keep the sunshine from them. “I know,” you rubbed your thumb over the skin you’d just squeezed and scooted back into a seated position. “But it’s not a dream.” Your hand slid down his arm until it found his, and he pushed his fingers between yours. “You worked so hard for everything you’ve earned, and you deserve every bit of it.” You licked your lips and narrowed your eyes, shifting closer to him. He raised your linked hands as you ducked under his arm to rest your head back on his shoulder, where it was before his phone had rung. “You need to realize that, Benjamin.” A warm rush washed through him as a breeze blew through the yard, ruffling the hydrangeas and lifting your hair to tickle his neck. “And I’ll pinch you a thousand times if that’s what it takes.” 

He shook his head, smiling to himself. She would. He blinked twice at Rebecca, the freckle faced girl adjusting her round lenses and leaning forward on the balls of her feet to inspect the framed photo on his desk. 

“She’s quite pretty.” Rebecca smiled. She is. Heart- stopping. Breathtaking. Captivating. All things that he knew for certain he hadn’t yet felt about another person at Rebecca’s age, that he hadn’t truly experienced until he’d felt them for you. 

But you weren’t his wife. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, already hating the way the next word would sound before he said it. “Girlfriend, actually.” He tapped his thumb against the stack of papers, the muffled crinkling sound joining the tick of the mechanical clock on top of the bookshelf that took up one wall of his small office. The face was a painted enamel with striking blue delft- style embellishments, a pair of carved wooden hands poking out of the middle to point at hand painted numerals. The entire gear box was open, full of ticking, whirring cogs and coiled springs working in a continuous loop. Each and every piece from the smallest screw to the commanding 12 and every tooth and groove of the innards had been painstakingly refurbished and cobbled together by your hands, the parts scavenged from here and there, from different time periods and of different materials. On the back you’d used a fine tip on your wood burning tool to carve the word Timeless. It was a secret, hidden message that only he knew was there. The clock had been your gift to him for completing his Master’s, and it had been the first thing that he’d hung in the small room. 

“Well, you look really happy together.” The young student gestured to the framed photo, your eyes bright over your wrinkled nose, mouth open in a laughing grin. He had one arm around you, holding you close to him as the other held the camera out in front to take the picture, but where you were looking directly at the camera, Benjamin had his forehead and nose pressed to your cheek. Even though his eyes were closed and only half of his face was visible it was clear that he was beaming. 

Benjamin nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, thanks,” he gave her a kind smile that she returned. “We are.” Really happy. “So, Rebecca,” he brought the focus back to the reason that she was standing in front of him in the first place. “You want to transfer into my Untold Stories of the First World War class?” 

The girl’s eyes lit up with interest and she bobbed her head enthusiastically, stepping closer to Benjamin's desk. “As soon as I saw you’d been assigned to it I knew I wanted to take it. I mean,” her hazel eyes darted to the open office door, beyond which the rest of the history department faculty member’s offices lined the square-shaped hallway. Coast clear, she turned back to Benjamin and continued, a conspiratorial tone to her squeaky voice. “I learned way more from you than I did from Dr. Kesting last semester,” Oh! He felt his eyebrows jump in surprise. “And when you gave that lecture in Scotland?” He tilted his head. “I watched the livestream online.” She bit the inside of her cheek and chuckled, pointer finger coming up to scratch her forehead nervously. “I want to focus my thesis on the type of things that you study, Professor Greene,” Thesis? She’s thinking about that already? Her dedication and drive impressed him. Not a lot of people get this excited about dead guys and global catastrophes. “So when I heard that you were teaching this class I knew I wanted to transfer into it. I mean, if there’s still room obviously, I know it’s sort of last minute.” 

Last minute? It starts in two hours. He laughed and reached for a pen from the clay cup that sat next to the framed photo. “I think I can fit one more in.” He signed off on the form, giving his permission for the Registrar to add Lee, Rebecca, 2nd year over achiever and major History junkie to his class roster. “See you in class, then.” 

She thanked him and hurried off to get her class switch sorted and acquire the necessary materials from the bookstore, but the interaction stayed with him through the rest of the morning, even after Kesting and  another professor, Alba Hayes- Ancient Civilizations- poked their heads in to say good morning. 

“Is this your wife, professor?”   

The question had made his heart race and his adrenaline spike, at once catching him off guard and making complete sense. He had known that he’d wanted to become a professor of History after meeting Dr. Kesting, knew that he wanted to extend his time in Academia until he was old and gray and people took the wrinkles in his face as grumpiness before they got him talking about The Bolshevik Revolution, or what London looked like before WWII. His Master’s degree, the conferences, research papers- all of it kept fueling an ever building desire to consume knowledge and ignite it in others. 

But wife? It was a word that had been assigned to another woman, briefly. But Julia hadn’t filled out it’s meaning, not even after the papers were signed and the rings and vows exchanged. He thought about the life that the two of you were building together- the collection of coffee and tea pots that lined the shelf in the kitchen, glass and copper and clay and steel- the wall of books and records and knick knacks and clutter in the living room- the garden that you’d planted together, the jar of coins and buttons and scraps that rusted and oxidized and marked time in ways that clocks couldn’t on your dresser in the bedroom. He thought about the ups and downs and all the firsts that you’d encountered and gotten through together, another first brewing in his mind as he contemplated what making you his wife might mean for the first time.   

His chest swelled as he took a breath in through his nose, eyes flicking from your frozen laugh in the silver frame, to the clock that rhythmically ticked along with his thoughts.Timeless. That’s what he had with you. No deadlines, no expiration dates, no pressing matters or weighty decisions perched on razor sharp edges, just unassuming, accepting, supportive love. Just things he’d never known he could have. Just things you’d given him as freely as he’d given you. 

He looked down at the planner on his desk blotter, the whole calendar year displayed in the top corner with a circle around the week of Spring break, the word Istanbul?? Scrawled in blue ink. Professor Oberman had decided to retire in Turkey after his spur of the moment trip there last year proved to be something of a personal journey, and he’d invited Benjamin, and in turn, you, to come visit him for a few days. Just like masterfully crafted and lovingly restored gears in the clock, something started turning in his mind and he smiled. 

 “Is this your wife, professor?”

She isn’t. He took the pen he’d signed Rebecca’s form with and underscored the city’s name. Not yet. 

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Home. The word sent a jolt of excitement through you. It's going to be his home, too...our home. The realization had been hitting you in small bursts since the two of you had discussed living together a few weeks back, but it felt different as you folded the flaps to close that last container, running your hand over the marker ink that you could still smell. It’s real now. You shoved the box to slide it over with the rest and he dropped his hands down to help you up. 

“Tired?” His fingers wrapped tightly around your palms and he gave a strong pull. You drew your legs up and pushed off the ground into a standing position, nodding as another yawn crept up on you. Benjamin laughed as he pulled you into his chest, letting go of your hands so he could press you closer. Eyes slipping closed, you hummed as your cheek made contact with the soft material of his tee. He’s so warm. A lazy smile curved your lips as you felt his touch along your spine and his breath in your hair. “Me too.” 

I can tell. It wasn’t just the way that you could feel the heaviness in his limbs as they wrapped around your body. You could see it in his eyes, a glassy haze lightening them as his lids drooped low enough for his top lashes to sweep the bottom ones. You’d caught him rubbing them, reaching two fingers beneath his lenses to try to shove the sleep back inside. It was also evident in the disheveled nature of his hair. While he never spent much time styling it, it always looked like more of a mess at the end of a long day, parts of it sticking up at unruly angles from the way he’d comb and scrub his fingers and hands through it. And it’s been such a long day. 

Both you and Benjamin had put in a full day of work before you’d arrived to help him. You’d gotten there as the furniture donation service was finishing up collecting some of the larger pieces that he wouldn’t be taking with him- the slightly warped wicker bed frame, the two-seater folding table and chairs, the lumpy orange sofa and the clunky coffee table. They’d all been given to him by friends and colleagues who were more than happy to relieve their overstuffed attics and basements of their bachelor pad furniture when he’d found himself in need of it. Your house was already completely furnished, and even though you’d told him that there was enough room in the basement to keep everything if he wanted to, he’d assured you that it wasn’t necessary. 

“I don’t think I’ll be needing any of it again,” he’d told you, an honest gleam in his eyes and a warm tone in his voice making your stomach flip. Everyone and their cousin had been sure to share their unsolicited opinion regarding your new living arrangement. You’d heard everything from “Two months? That’s too quick.” to “How do you know it’s going to work out?” and you knew that he’d been raked over even hotter coals, his friends reminding him of his former marriage and how he’d rushed things then. While you didn’t need anyone’s approval of your actions, you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t made you just a little nervous. But hearing the certainty in his words bolstered the faith that you had in this decision. I don’t think you’ll need any of it again either, B. 

Sighing, you opened your eyes, knowing that if you didn’t you were likely to fall asleep on your feet. “We should lay down, get some sleep.” You turned, resting your chin on his breastbone to look up at him as his hands slid down to your waist. “Early start tomorrow and-” the rest of your sentence fell into the gaping maw of yet another yawn. And its a big day...and I’m exhausted.

The skin on the bridge of his nose wrinkled as his lips twitched into an even fuller smile, lifting his cheeks. “We should. Or, well,” he brought one hand up, tilting his head as he traced your right eyebrow with the tip of his pointer finger, the others trailing softly over your forehead and into the wisps of hair that framed your face. Oh that’s...when he does that it’s… “We should try.” His hand cupped the side of your face and you leaned into it, feeling his long fingers threading through the loosely gathered hair at the base of your ponytail. He chuckled and you did too, knowing that you’d be sleeping on an old air mattress that likely had a hole in it, was too small for two people to fit comfortably, and would almost inevitably result in one or both of you taking an elbow to the ribs and waking up on the deflated remains of the vinyl cushion. But if I’m waking up with him it doesn’t matter. You shivered as you realized you’d be waking up with him every morning from now on, in the same bed, under the same roof.   

“I’m sure we will. I know I will.” This time you stifled your yawn by tucking your face down against his body and squeezing your lips together, but you weren’t fooling anyone. Not even a flat mattress is keeping me awake tonight.  

He let out another small laugh as he reached down to untuck your chin. “I know you will, too.” Taking the hand from your face, he reached up to remove his glasses, folding the arms and setting them next to his keys on top of the tallest box. “I just,” he returned both hands to your body, eyebrows gathered together and a breath leaving his lungs but his eyes never leaving yours. What’s wrong?  “I wanted to…” 

“Benjamin?” You gave him a squeeze before raising one hand up to smooth out the furrows in his brow with your thumb, your fingernails scratching lightly along his hairline. Curving your hand around his cheekbone, you trailed your touch down over his scratchy beard and leaned in to brush your nose against his. “What’s the matter?” 

He shook his head, squinting to focus his gaze even more intently. “Nothing.” Turning his head, he quickly left a kiss to the center of your palm. “Nothing at all.” He pulled you back into him then, lips finding the same spot in your hair as before, leaving another kiss there as you felt his hand come up to cradle the back of your head, rocking you gently before continuing. “I just wanted to thank you… for all of this. For… for helping me and, and for…” Helping you? Of course I...why wouldn’t I? He sighed. “For making me feel like you want me to move in with you, and not like I’m...like I’m some kind of…” Of course that’s what I want. You felt him swallow and guessed where the conversation was headed. “When I moved in with...with Julia,” you flinched at the sound of her name. Get used to it, she’s his ex-wife you’re going to hear about her. “Do you know what I think about when I remember that day?” How often do you think about that day? You immediately chastised yourself. Not the point, let him talk. “I remember that she didn’t even offer to help me pack or even pick me up, she just… joked about how little I had and-” he scoffed and you felt him shift to look down at you. You tried to conceal the contempt you felt for the other woman, for the way she’d belittled and underestimated him at every turn, but you weren’t sure if you were successful. “You know, I don’t blame her kids for the way that they acted towards me, not in the beginning.” He shook his head. “She didn’t even tell Leo that I was moving in. Didn’t… She knew it was going to be an uncomfortable conversation, so she pushed it onto me instead. Guess she didn’t think it was a big enough step to warrant any wave-making, but…” 

“But it is a big step.” You hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but you didn’t want him to think that he had to downplay what this milestone meant just because Julia had. I don’t know much about her, but I know I’m nothing like her. You wanted to make sure he knew it, too- knew that he could be himself and express himself and feel what he felt. Otherwise, what’s the point? “It’s an important step, because it means-” 

It was his turn to interrupt, and he did so by covering your mouth with his own and grasping your face between his hands. Stunned only for a second, you quickly responded to his kiss, left hand gripping the top of his shoulder, the right sliding up his jaw. You could feel it working beneath your palm as his lips and tongue moved with yours. God he’s a good kisser. Your fingers curled, biting into the skin at the back of his neck as you rose on your toes to get a better angle. You felt everything you were going to say echoed in that kiss- it means trust, it means taking the first step towards a future, it means taking a risk...together. It was a risk you’d never taken before, but for the first time in your life, you were more afraid of missing the reward than suffering the loss. 

When he finally broke the kiss, you opened your eyes slowly to see him already looking at you. “I know what it means,” he nodded, eyes brightening despite the sand man’s handiwork causing them to start falling shut. “And you do too.” Yeah, Benjamin, I do. Before you could confirm his statement, you were struck by another yawn and he laughed, a warm rumble leaving his chest. “Come on, let's go get some sleep.” He kissed your cheek and took your hand, leading you into the other room where the mattress, pillows and blankets were already waiting. 

Eyes already closed before you were fully horizontal, you felt yourself give into the void of sleep but not before you could answer him. “Good idea...big day tomorrow.”  

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