Ben Loves a Challenge Ch. 01

"Shit," he muttered, frustrated, but mostly at himself. He shouldn't have said those things to Dean, should have been more appreciative for the rescue. Should've thought tonight's plan through better, too. Back to the wall, he slid down until he was sitting on the cool concrete, surrounded by stray wrappers and cigarette butts. He stayed there until a woman approached with two kids, then turned the opposite way and pulled them away, glancing back at him shrewdly.

He left, defeat heavy in his heart. He wasn't sure why this was messing him up so badly, but it was. By Monday morning he had a new plan. Obviously Dean didn't want to talk to him, and wasn't going to give him the opportunity to apologize. Ben usually arrived before Dean, and today it worked to his advantage.

He quietly waded through the IT department, his first time within the bowels of the office. He was able to find Dean's desk quickly, it was full of Funko pop plastic figures and the rainbow of energy drink cans. Taking a deep breath to strengthen his resolve, he placed the envelope on Dean's keyboard. The Darth Vader Funko pop figurine seemed to pause his eternal battle with the Funko pop Yoda long enough to judge him.

He reached for the envelope, losing his courage, when a noise behind him startled him. The keyboard slid forward, knocking both Darth Vader and Yoda down, their large heads making them unstable. Ben hissed, then tried to pick them up, but they kept falling down, and now his hands were shaking too hard, anyway.

"Dude, you lost?"

Ben turned around and vaguely recognized the kid behind him, one of the interns. Dominic, or was Donny? He shook his head, pulling his professionalism on like a cloak. "Just had to drop something on Mr. Kazcmarek's desk."

"You want me to give it to him?"

He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "I don't think that will be necessary."

The intern, maybe it was Bill? The intern eyed his envelope warily. "Sure."

Ben tried to fix him with his most intimidating boss stare. It seemed to work as the intern backed away, then busied himself with other work. His nerves gave out the second he was back to his desk, sinking down into his chair. It was done, and for better or worse, he'd tried to make it right.

Everything came down on him that day, deadlines and a million emails, requiring all of his mental processing power. He even skipped lunch, snacking here and there at his desk as he made calls and returned emails. It wasn't until the rest of his office was silent around him that he realized it was past time to leave.

He stood up and stretched long, then found his coat and pulled it on as he headed for the parking lot. He spotted Dean before he left the building, his hand on the push bar, the door half open. Dean was leaning against the driver's side door of Ben's car, scrolling through something on his phone.

For no good reason he hesitated, watching Dean for a moment. Why was Dean at his car? Was he mad, about the letter? Ben kicked himself, he should've done it in person, but he'd had such a hard time getting Dean to give him the time of day. Of course he'd be mad at an apology letter, he owed Dean more than that.

Swallowing down the instant fear of rejection that swelled in his throat, he pushed his way out the door. Dean looked up when he was about ten feet away, a scowl on his face.

"You're late."

"Huh?"

Dean sniffed in disdain. "You're late. You were supposed to get off like, half an hour ago, or something. I mean, not that I was paying attention. Just, your half of the office usually leaves like clockwork."

"Oh. I got caught up in some work I wanted to finish today. Did, ah... Did you get the letter? That intern was acting fishy," he said, his mouth matching the speed of his pulse.

"The intern? John?"

"John? I could've sworn his name was Donnie."

"Last year's intern was Donnie. This one is John. He said some weird guy from the other side of the building was in messing with the figures on my desk," Dean said, smiling smugly.

"Oh. Yeah, I knocked them down, then couldn't get them to balance right again. Sorry."

Dean's lips pursed to one side, creating a dimple in one cheek and accenting his cleft chin in a flattering way. "I fixed them. It was time to change it up on my desk, anyway. That's not why I'm here," he said, licking his lips nervously. He reached into his hoodie and pulled out an envelope. Ben's envelope.

"Good, you got it," he said, feeling relieved.

Dean stalked the three steps between them and held the envelope out to him. He looked at it, unsure what Dean wanted. "Take it back," Dean said.

"What?" he asked, confused. "I'm sorry, I know I should've done it in person, but you were avoiding me."

"That's not, take the money back. Why are you paying me? I'm not, that's not why I did it, I mean-"

Understanding dawned on Ben. "Oh. No, it's for the cleaning."

"Cleaning?"

"I puked in your car. You said the detailing was two hundred dollars," he said, stepping back. "I'm paying you back. I wanted to apologize, too, for being-"

"Take your money, DeLuca," Dean snapped, stepping forward again, too. "I'm not some charity case, yea?"

"I never thought you were, but I made the mess, and I take responsibility for my actions. Please, keep it. I need to pay you back for it," he insisted, avoiding the envelope by stepping sideways.

"I don't want your money," Dean argued, moving step for step with him. "I don't need some straight guy stalking me, and I don't need your stupid money. I lied, about the detailing. I cleaned it myself. It wasn't even that bad, you'd puked most of it up by that time. It was just liquid, it wasn't bad. Not two hundred dollars bad."

Ben frowned. "Still, I owe you an apology, and I did puke in your car. You can pretend you were my Uber, pretty sure that's the fee for puking."

"You don't owe me anything," Dean argued. "Take your money and stay away from me."

"Dean, please. I was an ass. I didn't mean-"

Dean stalked up to him, pressing the envelope into his chest. He hadn't realized how much taller Dean was than him, more than half a foot at least he estimated as he looked up at him. "You didn't mean to be what, Ben? Homophobic? Unappreciative? Disrespectful? Take your freaking money and don't talk to me, yea?"

Dean pressed the money into his chest then let go, turning on his heels to stomp away angrily. "Dean, you're right. I was all of those things. Please, let me make it up to you."

"Why? To satisfy some shitty straight man's ego? Your pride bruised? Did Dick-sucker Dean's help made you feel sullied?" Dean turned back to him, his cheeks pink, accenting his sharp cheekbones.

"I shouldn't have called you that," he admitted. "Please, Dean. I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to be any of those things, but I was. I'd like a chance to make it up to you. I'll do whatever you want, to convince you I'm not just messing with you."

Dean looked at him, the angry look on his face doing something to his insides that felt like lust, but couldn't be, then looked down at the envelope. "Pick up your money."

Ben knelt down slowly, never taking his eyes off of Dean as he picked it up. "Please, take it. For the inconvenience."

"I'm not taking your money, Ben. You know, if your friend Hugh catches you talking to me he's gonna start calling you..." He paused to think. "Blowjob Ben..."

"I don't care," he said, slowly standing up, feeling it in his glutes.

Dean watched him. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's the least I could do," he admitted. "It just hasn't sat right with me, how I treated you. I need to set this right."

Dean groaned. "Jesus, Ben. Just let it go. I'm fine. I'm used to it. Just, go back to your little world, and I'll go back to mine, and we'll pretend it never happened, yea?"

Dean went to leave, but hesitated. "Why'd you help me?"

"Cause I'm not a douche," was Dean's instant answer, but it felt shallow.

He didn't press it. "I don't wanna pretend it never happened."

Dean pursed his lips, then looked to the sky. "DeLuca, you're a lost cause. Are you gonna hound me until I accept your apology money?"

"It's not about the money," Ben said. "I'm sorry if it came off that I was trying to buy your favor. I just wanted to repay you, ya know, for the car. I really do wanna make it up to you, though. Could I take you to dinner or something? I'd like to actually get to know you."

"Why?" Dean asked again. "Why can't you just let this go?"

Ben shook his head. "I dunno, but it... I can't explain it. Let me buy you dinner, at least. If you won't take the money."

"You said you'd do anything to prove it to me?" Dean said, his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah."

"Fine. Kiss me. Right here in the parking lot. On my lips, no grand-mama kisses, either. Kiss me like you kissed Clara. Then I'll forgive you." Dean snickered, dismissing Ben instantly.

"Laura," he corrected. Before he could chicken out he stepped forward, rushing over to Dean. He slipped into Dean's personal space, leaning up to catch Dean's lips. Dean's hand smooshed against his face before he made contact, pushing him away.

"What the hell?" Dean snapped, those rosy patches back on his cheeks.

"You said-"

"I know what I said!" he hissed. "I didn't think you'd do it!"

"Why'd you stop me?"

"I don't kiss straight man stalkers," Dean said, rubbing his hand over his nose. He pinched the bridge of it, then looked up at him. "I don't need a straight guy in my life trying to prove to himself he isn't homophobic. I'm not your token gay."

"I never said you were. And, for the record, I was only doing what you asked me to."

"Wouldja have jumped off a bridge, if I'd asked ya to?"

Ben shrugged. "A kiss didn't seem so bad, as, like, compared to jumping off a bridge might be."

Dean opened his mouth and Ben was afraid he was going to yell at him again, but Dean laughed. It started small, but soon he was bent over, pushing Ben's body away as he laughed hard enough that he started crying. Ben watched him, both curious and afraid.

"Are you okay?"

Dean snorted, wiping his laughing tears away. "You... Dammit, Ben. You win." He picked up the envelope, then opened it and pulled out the cash. He took two twenties and handed the rest of the stack back. Ben was hyper-aware of Dean's hand pressing the cash against his chest, and he didn't move for a breath, frozen like a deer. "I'm not taking it all. This," he said, waving the cash in his other hand, "is enough."

Dazed, Ben reached up and took the rest of the cash. "Dinner. Let me at least buy you dinner. That's not enough. I was a complete dick to you."

"You were." Dean rolled his eyes and snorted. He shook his head in small movements, but he didn't seem as annoyed as he'd been earlier. "Fine. Whatever. I'll let you know later when I'm free, yea?"

"You won't blow me off?"

"It wouldn't work. You'd just start stalking me again if I did, yea?" Dean looked him in the eyes, then shook his head. "You're really weird, d'ya know that?"

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah." Dean laughed again. "Stop stalking me, yea? I'll let you know when I've got time." He turned and walked away with a wave over his head, still laughing.