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Benji, through countless hours of therapy, had learnt many things about himself. One, he’s got pretty shoddy self esteem (which was unsurprising). Two, his mildly (read: hefty) anxious tendencies tend to manifest in more destructive ways if left unchecked. Three, he’s protective to a fault, often resulting in him neglecting his own needs.
But one thing he certainly didn’t need informing of was that he absolutely, unequivocally, could not shut the fuck up.
After all, it was there; written in his IMF file, in his employee reviews, in his bloody school reports. Benjamin is a lovely addition to the class, very helpful. We can’t help but feel he can be distracting to the other students. Benji is an excellent technician, however he often contributes too much to a conversation. Agent Dunn is an asset to his team, but he needs to shut his pie hole.
But that’s enough about that.
“Where am I heading, Benji?” He hunched over the laptop, tracking Ethan’s movements through the streets of Budapest. For once, he couldn’t help but feel thankful for the cover of the van as the rain pounded the roof mercilessly.
“Just scanning now… okay! He’s about 10 yards ahead. 2 o’clock.” He watched as the little green dot followed Szabó, a notorious arms dealer. The two of them had been tasked with tailing the Hungarian in hopes of snatching his briefcase (apparently containing a metric shit-tonne of information on his latest client).
He looked at the feed from the security cameras, watching as Szabó wove through throngs of tourists, routinely looking over his shoulder.
“He’s looking cautious, Ethan. I’m thinking you should hang back a little. Stop into one of the shops. Oh! There’s a lovely café just to your right.”
“Not the time, Benji.” There was a lilt of humour in Ethan’s voice.
“Right. Got it. Time and a place for coffee. Maybe tomorrow! It’s meant to be nicer weather tomorrow. Not that I mind the rain that much, I’m used to it, of course. Being English, and all. Although saying that, my sister said it’s quite nice over there at the moment. Typical, isn’t it? I was only there last month and it was tipping it down-”
“Benji.”
“Sorry- rambling again. Szabó is heading toward the Great Market Hall. Can’t miss it.”
He watched Ethan make his way toward the hall, nibbling on his thumbnail as he scanned the exits.
“It doesn’t look like you’ve got company, but I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Thanks, Benji.” Ethan had stopped, hovering for a moment by a souvenir stall, pretending to consider the wares. The arms dealer stopped and took stock of his surroundings once more before picking up the pace.
“Shit. Ethan, he’s on the move!”
“Noted. I’m going to try to cut him off.” He put down the snowglobe he’d been holding, pulled up his hood and weaved through the crowd. Benji swiped through the floor plan.
“You’re going to want to go left. Head towards the spice market, then through to vegetable stalls and- oh, wow. Is that a lángos vendor? God, that looks good. You know I’ve not eaten all day, we should get some after this- not together, obviously,” Benji chuckled nervously, “I mean, not that two friends, er, colleagues can’t get food together. We could. Obviously. If you wanted-”
“Benji. Focus. Where the hell am I going?”
Benji took a moment to silently scream into his hands before quickly reassessing Ethan’s surroundings.
“Sorry, sorry. Take another left, then a right. You’ll hit the flower market and you’ll be able to head him off at the north exit.”
“Thank you.” The green dot followed his directions, and he looked to be catching up to Szabó.
“You’ve nearly got him. Make your way past that deli. God, I can’t deny I envy you right now. You know that Market Hall has been running since 1897? Truly remarkable. Gorgeous building too- neogothic, is it? I’m more of a fan of Victorian architecture, myself; but there’s a lot to be said for-”
“Benji, unless it’s something helpful to the current situation, I’m going to need you to shut your damn mouth.”
He felt his forehead go hot with embarrassment. There was also a telltale twinge in his gut that he felt whenever Ethan got stern, but that certainly wasn’t helpful in any situation. Back to the matter at hand, Benji desperately flicked through the feed for something, anything, that could help. Mercifully, he found it.
“Ethan! Listen, there’s a delivery van outside the market at your 10 o’clock. White. Red logo. The driver is currently arguing with the vendor and doesn’t seem to be giving in. The van is open, empty, and the key is still in the ignition. Mildly illegal, but I can’t imagine you’re opposed to a little commandeering?” Benji heard him bark out a laugh.
“Have I ever?”
He watched Ethan jump into the van and quickly accelerate down the street, harshly turning the corner to catch Szabó at the exit. Benji shook his head, hoping the van’s owner was insured for rogue maniacs.
Benji breathed a sigh of relief as Ethan stopped the van directly in front of Szabó. The Hungarian stopped, alarmed. Ethan (now donned in the delivery driver’s company-issued fleece and hat) jumped out, shouting a few profanities in Hungarian before quickly catching Szabó off guard, jabbing him in the arm with a sedative and grabbing the case.
He sat, amazed, as Ethan wandered away from the market. Szabó lay unconscious in the van’s driver's seat, wearing the stolen hat and fleece, whilst Ethan threw on a suit jacket stolen off the back of a nearby businessman’s chair and made his way West.
Benji took this as signal enough.
“Leaving for the rendezvous point now. Meet you in 5.”
In the van back to the safe house, it was eye-wateringly quiet. Unfortunately, Benji wasn’t one to let it stay that way.
“Well, I think that went well! Bit spotty towards the end, but nothing you can’t handle. I didn’t know you knew Hungarian, by the way. I started learning, just couldn’t get to grips with it. Very guttural on the—”
“Benji, will you shut the fuck up.” Ethan growled, pinching the bridge of his nose, meaner than he had been before.
“—consonants,” he finished lamely. Benji felt himself sink back into the seat, cheeks red.
“Sorry.” He muttered, keeping his eyes on the road and hoping he didn’t look like a child sent to bed without his supper.
15 minutes later, they were back at the safe house. Benji had yet to say a word, choosing instead to grab his go-bag from the van and rush upstairs to drown himself in the shower.
He threw on a jumper and joggers and shuffled into the living room. The safe house was small- a cosy one bedroom flat on the outskirts of Budapest. He held back the urge to comment on the view.
Ethan stood at the kitchen counter, shuffling through the contents of the briefcase. He looked up at Benji and offered a small nod.
“We got what we needed. There’s enough here to halt at least three new deals in their tracks. We did good,” he stood up straighter, raising his eyebrows at Benji, “you did good.”
Benji’s face coloured.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You were the one doing all the heavy lifting. I’m just the guy on the computer,” self-consciously, he shuffled his feet.
“Give yourself some credit. I would never have spotted that delivery van had you not pointed it out. Szabó would’ve gotten away if it weren’t for that.”
If it was possible, Benji got redder. He thought back to those hours of therapy.
Benji is almost incapable of accepting praise.
“Thanks, Ethan. I, er,” he stared at his feet, feeling those green eyes pierce through his skull, “sorry about the, um- the chatting. I know it’s a problem, it’s one of those things I’ve never been able to fix.” Ethan leaned back against the counter, his hands gripping the edge gently. God, have his biceps always been that big?
“No need to apologise. In fact, I wanted to say sorry for yelling at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
Stupid, sincere Ethan Hunt.
“Oh, no. I definitely did,” Benji chuckled, still looking down, “only way to get through to me sometimes.”
Benji believes he deserves to be criticised.
Ethan’s eyes continued to bore through him. He considered Benji for a moment. That was the problem with Ethan, he always seemed to be assessing the situation, professional or otherwise.
“You know, I’m not sure that’s true. I’m sure there’s plenty of ways we could get through to you.”
Ethan stepped forward, causing Benji to reflexively step back.
“Not to be that guy Ethan, but I’ve seen how you get through to people, and I’m not entirely sure I’d like to be on the receiving end of that.” He’d once seen Ethan hang a man off a building by his shirt collar until he told them the whereabouts of a bomb he’d planted four floors down.
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head and taking another couple of steps toward Benji, who was now pressed against the back of the small sofa.
“That’s not quite what I had in mind.”
The Englishman audibly gulped as a hand slowly came up to wrap softly around his neck. He briefly forgot how to breathe.
Blue eyes met green. Benji gave the slightest of nods, barely able to move, and Ethan squeezed.
He groaned, feeling his air supply cut off, and he watched Ethan’s pupils expand.
Oh.
There was a high-pitched whine and Benji realised, mortified, that it had come from him. Christ, he was already hard. He found himself grinding into thin air as Ethan squeezed the sides of his neck again.
The American grinned. He leaned in, breath ghosting over Benji’s lips as his hand moved from his neck. He pushed down gently on Benji’s shoulder, inviting him to kneel.
Who was he to refuse an invitation like that? Eagerly, he got down on his knees in front of Ethan, desperately working at unbuckling his belt and jeans. He slowly pulled Ethan’s half-hard cock out of his boxers, and looked up pleadingly. The other man smiled and ran a thumb along Benji’s bottom lip, and nodded.
He wasn’t going to lie and say he was a vastly experienced man, but he couldn’t say he was bad at sucking dick. Quite the opposite, really.
Ethan groaned as Benji worked him; sucking eagerly whilst occasionally stopping to lick the organ from base to tip. He rested his hand on the back of Benji’s head, who in turn looked up and nodded.
“Please.”
With that, Ethan began to fuck into Benji’s mouth. He could feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of the younger man’s throat with each thrust. Benji gagged around his length, eyes watering. His hand moved towards the bulge in the front of his joggers and pressed the heel of his palm against it. He groaned.
“Touch yourself,” Ethan growled, “shit, you look so pretty with my cock down your throat.”
Benji whined again before pulling his own cock out and beginning to fuck his fist. Ethan watched him for a moment. before picking up the pace, thrusting quicker as a familiar pressure began to build in the base of his stomach.
Tears were now freely flowing down Benji’s cheeks as he took Ethan’s full length deep into his throat, his nose pressed against dark pubic hair. He breathed deeply, inhaling the musky scent. He swallowed, wanting more.
“Fuck, Benji. Gonna come.”
Ethan threw his head back, groaning as he came in thick ropes down Benji’s throat. He stopped to catch his breath for a moment before pulling out.
Benji looked up. His eyes were red rimmed, the pupils blown wide as he continued to fist his cock. Ethan kneeled down in front of him, making him pause before the older man’s hand joined his.
“God, you look wrecked,” Ethan wiped a few stray tears from Benji’s cheeks with his free hand as he leaned in and kissed him.
Benji kissed back eagerly, moaning at the sensation of Ethan’s hand on his dick. The American pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead against Benji’s, moving his hand faster.
The Englishman’s breath became ragged, thrusting weakly into Ethan’s hand.
“Come on Benj, come for me.”
Benji sobbed as he reached his peak, come spilling over Ethan’s fist. His brain was fuzzy, and he barely noticed the loss of Ethan’s presence before a glass of water was held in his face.
A hand came to rest gently on his cheek, wiping away a couple more tears.
“C’mon. Have a sip for me. You need to drink.” Obediently, Benji took the glass in his hands and took a couple of big gulps as Ethan gently stroked his hair.
“There you go.”
When Benji finished the water and eventually caught his breath, he looked up at Ethan. The other man grinned down at him.
“How’re you feeling?” Benji let out a chuckle because, really, how was he meant to respond to that?
Throat sore, voice croaky, he responded.
“Think we might need a few tries to really get through, don’t you think?”
Ethan laughed, leaning in to kiss him again.
“Deal.”