Brian – Liam was neither a Brian nor a Liam. Arthur found out that the guy who almost broke his nose was a Benjamin, a thing that he found quite fitting. Benjamin sounded like the name of someone who took psychology as a major and had a passion for theater. His Benjamin was a jock with proper grammar that knew how to use an Oxford comma in a text. Arthur could appreciate the lack of emoji; he was never an avid user.

It took a couple of weeks for him to finally feel like he could go out in public without big prescription sunglasses that made him look like he had been drinking since 10 am. So when he finally met with Benjamin, who had decided that coffee was a proper way of saying "sorry I got you kicked out of school," he looked as usual. Or better said, he did his best to look good. He was very interested in testing out his new theory that Brian – Liam – Ben was gay.

He dressed casually, dark jeans, and a white shirt paired with a gray coat and a scarf. This coat was also perfectly lovely.

Ben had a car, and Arthur would've probably had more than one if he managed to pass his driving exams. Seeing the circumstances and how Arthur had a personal vendetta against subways, they mutually agreed that Ben would pick him up and drive to whatever coffee shop.

He thought that Benjamin looked cute, in that awkward way that was screamed guilt. And Arthur did notice that Ben looked at him for a little too long. He did get a slight kick out of seeing people question their sexuality around him, not that it was a common occurrence.

"You have new glasses," he said instead of hello, and Arthur remembered that indeed, he had gotten a new pair made the exact day that his old one was cracked in half. His new pair had gunmetal gray frames that were in the same wayfarer style he preferred.

"I'm shortsighted," Arthur said because it seemed like proper greetings weren't an option anymore.

"I always thought you wear glasses just for style."

"That's a bonus," Arthur said and got in the car. The first thing he noticed was the scented dice Ben had dangling from his mirror. They were cute, he decided and held back the urge to poke them. He was not a cat.

"Look, I'm sorry for breaking your glasses and throwing coffee at you."

"You told me that already," Arthur said. "It's fine. I hit you first."

"I think I deserved it."

"Oh, yeah," He nodded. "I'm fairly sure you did."

Ben puffed a laugh and started the car. Arthur opened the window and lit a cigar without asking. Not because he didn't think to do so, but because he wanted to see what Ben would do.

"I didn't know you smoke."

"You do now." He smiled, showing his white teeth. Arthur liked showing his teeth since he endured two years of braces to get them perfectly straight. Ben's ears went red.

"So ugh… coffee. Yeah," he said awkwardly. Arthur wondered how in hell he managed to date so many girls if he got flustered so easily. Maybe it was because he didn't care all that much about what those girls though.

"Starbucks?" Arthur got out of the car.

"You hate Starbucks?"

"Well, no, not really," Arthur said. "I never had anything besides regular coffee here."

"Don't tell me you're a coffee purist." Ben joked.

"Diabetic." Arthur smiled at him. His ears turned red for the second time.

"Oh. I didn't know," Ben said.

"Most people don't, I guess." Arthur shrugged.

Arthur got a black coffee, and Ben ordered something with way too much sugar in it. Then Arthur decided he could very well drink his coffee in the car while Ben drove to a place not so crowded. Ben drove, and he got less and less awkward as time went by. Arthur found out that Dylan, Ben's asshole friend, had a knack for making people do stupid shit by calling them names. Sometimes it worked, as with Ben.

Benjamin drove out of the city, and Arthur made a joke about being murdered, and the police thinking he was quite a stylish dead body. Ben laughed, an old Shakira song started playing on the radio, Arthur lit himself another cigar and rolled down the window.

"I'm sorry I stepped on your head," Arthur said. "I think that was a little extreme."

"I think that was well deserved," Ben said and glanced over at him. "You have a very nice nose," he said. "It would've been a shame if I had broken it."

"I would've murdered you," Arthur said and poked the dangling dice.

Ben stopped the car next to the woods and opened all the doors. Arthur climbed on top of the vehicle. Ben asked for a cigar and chocked on the first puff. Arthur laughed. It smelled like grass and autumn. He was glad to be there, surprisingly, since he wasn't a big fan of nature. It was the sort of day he knew he was going to remember.

"Hey," Ben started. "How did you know that…"

"That I'm diabetic?" Arthur played stupid.

"No." He frowned. "I mean… that ugh…"

"That I'm gay?" Arthur said. "Well, technically, I'm bi."

"You are?"

"Shocking to hear that from a man that knows what smaragdine looks like, but yeah. I like girls too, sometimes."

"Oh." Ben scratched the back of his head and kicked the ground with the tip of his shoe.

"I always knew," Arthur said. Ben looked up.

"What?"

"That I like men." Arthur clarified. "I never questioned it. But I think the first time I was aware of it was when I saw The Little Mermaid. I had a huge crush on Prince Eric. Maybe that's why I'm into dark-haired men…"

Ben laughed and leaned against his car and resting his elbow on the roof. "I admire this about you… this way that you are… just… you. Unapologetically you. I'm a bit jealous."

Arthur moved so that his feet would dangle on the edge of the car's roof. Ben's face was very close to his stomach.

"My mother told me that when I die, I'll be the one on my deathbed. I'm going to be the one looking back at my life, at my decisions, and either regret or rejoice. It's not going to be the assholes that call you a fag in high school or throughout your life; it's not going to be the people that tell you not to wear fancy shoes or pink shirts or drink your colorful cocktails because it's gay. It's not gonna be your friends that push you into doing shit you don't just to prove that you're a man. Nobody will die with your regrets besides you. When I'm going to die, I want to know that I lived like myself, not a faded version of me."

Ben placed his hands on Arthur's thighs but didn't look at him.

"I don't know how I want to live my life. I don't know what I want."

Arthur dropped from the roof of the car. He could hear the radio playing in the background. It was a song he had never heard before. Ben was taller than him, and that did all sorts of things to his feelings.

"You think you might be gay?" Arthur decided to ask. Ben hesitated. He frowned and then nodded. His hands were warm on Arthur's arms.

"But you're not sure?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. Ben nodded. Arthur placed his palm on the back of Ben's neck and pulled him into a kiss. It could've gone both ways. He could've ended up sporting a brand new, not so luxurious bruise on his jaw or kissing a very nice, tall guy with dark hair whose ears turned red when nervous.

Ben took a moment to catch on, but when he finally did, he reacted swiftly. He pulled Arthur towards him, or better said, he pushed Arthur into the car.

It wasn't difficult to tell that Ben was enjoying himself; Arthur could very much feel it. He didn't mind. He didn't mind it when Ben pulled away for a couple of seconds to take off his glasses. He didn't mind when Ben pushed his hands up his shirt. And he definitely didn't mind when, somehow, he ended up in the backseat with the quarterback.

Ben was gay. Ben was gay and unready to admit it to the world. But that was fine; Arthur wasn't the type to push people into doing things, usually. He would, of course, try and steer them gently if the outcome was advantageous to him. Ben's sexuality wasn't.

It was a couple of years later, when Ben was in college, miles away from Arthur, that he finally posted on Facebook that he was gay. He did it perfectly, by posting a photo of him and his boyfriend kissing.

Arthur saw it, three days later, while taking a break from his "history of art" homework, and smiled.

The caption for the photo was, "I'm going to live like myself, not a faded version of me."