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Phillip knows Blanc will be here soon. He feels a little odd about it, but none too much. Blanc’s friends were his friends, and his friends were Blanc’s. They all knew the situation. He and Blanc made sure the divorce wouldn’t be messy. Evenly split finances, enough time for Benoit to land on his feet, and make sure to let the friends know that there are no hard feelings.
Whether that last statement was entirely true, Phillip was still deciding. It was mutual, at the very least. Phillip couldn’t deal with Blanc never opening up to him. Blanc couldn’t deal with Phillip pushing him to. It was best for both of them to go their separate ways.
In any case, it was their annual Friendsgiving, and Blanc was unusually late. Their friends were chatting about the usual topics - romance, finances, politics - but it would soon transition into where Blanc was because, honestly, where was he?
“Alec and Ellie are famously late, but Blanc would rather die,” Charlie exclaims in her titular raspy New Jersey voice, muffled by a lit cigarette, and Phillip feels dread as she makes her way over to him, “Phillip, do you know where Benoit is?”
“Charlie! Come on!” Kareem scolds.
“I’m just asking! Yeah, they’re divorced, but they were married at some point!” Charlie argues.
Phillip rubs his eyes and refuses to move from his leaned-back and relaxed posture in the soft chair in this main room. He scowls at the cigarette smell, reminding him of when Benoit smoked inside.
“Charlotte, oh my God,” Angie rolls her eyes, but laughs under her hand.
“No, I don’t know where Benoit is,” Phillip sighs, grabbing his glass of wine on the side table, “And if it’s all the same to you, could you please smoke outside?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” Charlie grumbles, taking her cigarette out the front door.
“She’s ridiculous,” Delia chuckles, walking up to him and topping off his wine, “Sorry, Phillip.”
“It’s alright, honestly,” Phillip waves a kind hand, taking a sip of his rose.
“Oh, shit, guess who’s here!” Charlie yells from outside the door. Phillip rolls his eyes as a few of his friends gaze excitedly out the door.
Benoit, ever the people-pleaser. Ever the presence. Ever the attention-whore. He keeps that thought to himself.
“Looks like he finally showed up.” Kareem says, trying and failing to keep his excitement hidden.
“He better have brought–” Delia begins, but cuts herself off as she gets to the window.
Phillip turns, confused at the pause. Despite Benoit being the detective, he could still figure some things out. He sees Delia’s eyes widen. He sees Kareem’s jaw drop. He sees Angie cover her mouth. He gets concerned. The post-divorce haircut couldn’t be that bad, could it?
“Delia?” Phillip asks, leaning forward in his loveseat, “Did he bring the pie?”
“He… brought something.” Delia hesitates.
Before Phillip can ask what she means, Charlie opens the door and brings in a large tray of mac n cheese. Kareem dashes out and takes something from Benoit’s hands. He enters, bangs immediately catching Phillip’s eye. Well, it wasn’t… terrible. Benoit sets a bottle of whiskey on the table and grins at everyone.
“Good evening, everybody. Thank you, Kareem, Charlie.” Benoit nods as the two set the dishes on the dining table.
“Sure, Ben.” Charlie pats his shoulder.
“Ooh, looks good as ever.” Angie says.
Phillip stands, smiling at Benoit. He expects a polite handshake, but is instead pulled into a polite hug. Distant, but warm. Phillip is taken aback, and takes a moment to hug his ex-husband. Benoit pulls away.
“You look good,” He whispers. Phillip smiles, sadly.
Before he can ask if Benoit is ok, he hears a male voice from outside. He looks to his front door as Benoit moves out of the way and sees…
A priest.
A young priest.
A young, fit priest.
Phillip gawks. The others keep their staring to a minimum. The priest doesn’t seem to mind. Benoit walks over and puts a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Everyone, this is…” Benoit inhales, “Father Jud.”
Father Jud turns to the group and smiles brightly, “Hello,” He waves.
“Jud. Fun name.” Charlie says, reaching out to shake his hand.
“Judas Duplenticy.” Jud confirms.
“Jesus Christ.” Charlie barks, to which Blanc smiles and looks at the floor.
Before Phillip or Delia can scold her, Jud says: “No, Judas Duplenticy.”
They all pause before Angie starts laughing and Kareem joins her. Charlie narrows her eyes, smiling, curious.
“Oh, you think you’re funny.” Charlie states.
“I like to think so, yeah,” Jud shrugs, keeping that same genuine smile on his face, “I, uh, I brought corn casserole,” He gestures to the table.
“Yeah? Where are you from?” Angie asks, probably sensing another midwesterner, if the corn was anything to go by.
“Ma was a midwest Catholic, this is her favorite dish,” Jud explains, “It’s also… really easy.”
Jud laughs, and Phillip feels his eye twitch.
“You help Ben with the pie?” Kareem sniffs the apple pie.
“Yeah, I made the crust and filling, actually.”
“Oh, a baker, too?”
“Just a baker. I can’t cook for shit.”
“Jud!” Benoit scolds, playful.
“It’s a Thursday.” Jud waves a hand.
“So, Father Jud…” Phillip begins. Benoit’s face goes from fond to scared in a split second.
“How old are you?” Phillip smiles politely.
Jud returns the smile, “Oh, uh, 35.”
“35!” Phillip exclaims and looks to Blanc, who looks at the floor.
“Freshly 35,” Jud adds. Charlie snorts.
“Freshly! Wow.” Phillip turns and locks his eyes on Blanc, who is pointedly not looking at him.
“Here, come sit, we’re waiting for another…” Phillip pauses, “Couple.”
Phillip leads Jud over to the couch, where he sits politely on the far end. Charlie sits in a chair nearby and starts to chat with the priest, who takes the rude questions in stride. Phillip stares at the boy, drinking his wine a little quicker than maybe he should. Delia places a gentle hand on his shoulder.
After a minute, Benoit grunts in the kitchen. Jud immediately perks up, concerned, and looks.
“Benoit, do you need help?” Jud calls out. Phillip snorts; Benoit will never say he needs help.
“No, no, I can–” Benoit tried. Case in point.
Jud stands and makes a light jog into the kitchen, stopping next to Blanc, “You sure?”
“Yes!” Benoit snaps.
“Ok.” Jud says.
The priest folds his hands behind his back and watches Benoit struggle with a grin. Phillip chuckles with the schadenfreude of the entire experience. He is, at least, happy that Blanc’s new boy toy could piss him off as much as Phillip did.
Phillip hears a genuinely pained hiss from the kitchen, and he turns. Jud still stands, hands politely folded, as Blanc shakes his hand. He turns and looks at Jud, who just smiles.
“Well?” Benoit grunts.
“Well what?” Jud asks, either actually dumb or playing dumb, Phillip can’t tell.
Benoit hands the bottle over to Jud, who looks at it, and then back at Benoit.
“What do I do with this?” Jud blinks, innocently. Phillip smirked at the sight.
“Would you… open it… for me…” Benoit began, and Phillip’s face immediately fell.
“... please.” Blanc finished with a whisper. Phillip clenched his jaw and turned forward in his seat.
“Of course!” Jud agrees, softly, from the kitchen. A bottle opens, and Benoit sighs. He says something to Jud, who says something back. Phillip can’t hear what they’re saying, even if he really wants to the same amount that he doesn’t.
Phillip looked at his phone and sighed in relief at the “Late” text from the two missing. He stands, quick and slightly buzzed.
“Alright, go ahead and get food, everyone! Ellie and Alec will be here later!” Phillip calls, clapping his hands together.
Jud and Blanc sit at the table, Jud in an end spot and Blanc next to him. Charlie grins.
“Sooo…” She sings, sitting across from Blanc, “When did this happen?”
“Oh, you know…” Blanc shrugs. He doesn’t continue, despite the looks. Phillip sits on the opposite side, a few seats down. Kareem, Delia, and Charlie sat in the row. Angie decided to sit next to Jud.
“I don’t.” Angie said, raising a hand.
“Jud.” Charlie pressed, wanting to get as much info out of the priest as she could.
“Officially, I want to say 8 months.” Jud crosses his arms and sighs.
Then, he laughs, pointing to Blanc, “But you were–”
“Alright.” Blanc snaps.
“Come on, what are you afraid of?” Jud elbows the southern man. Benoit closes his mouth.
“When’d you meet?” Kareem asks.
“Last Easter, over a year ago. It was during an investigation.” Jud explains.
“An investigation! Wow.” Phillip, once again, teases and looks at Blanc, “Were you the, uh, victim?”
“The… accused, actually.” Jud says. Phillip turns to the priest, eyebrows shooting up.
“You? Accused of…?” Phillip laughs.
“Murder.” Jud smiles. The table gets quiet.
Delia clears her throat, “... did you do it?”
“No, I didn’t.” Jud smiles wider.
“I assume not.” Angie gives Delia a smug look.
“You never know.” Delia shrugs.
“And you started…” Phillip gestured between the… two… “...this…?”
“Uh… well, Blanc paid a monthly visit the first 3 months. Then bimonthly the next 3. Then weekly, then twice a week.” Jud counts on his fingers.
“Yeah, and then I broke.” Blanc smirks.
“You broke?” Phillip snaps.
“Well! It was…” Blanc sighs, getting more flustered than Phillip thinks he’s ever seen him, “It was hard. Not… being able to…”
Blanc looks at Jud. Jud looks at Blanc. Jud has such a genuine, kind look on him that makes Blanc look so… frustrated. But… there’s something so… different to the whole thing. So tense, but had a twinge of peace. Jud’s endless patience. Blanc’s endless stubbornness. Unstoppable force meets immovable object.
But Blanc seems more… movable than Phillip remembers.
“You were a priest.” Benoit says.
“Still am.” Jud raises a brow.
“You had a job. I had no reason to be there. I am not used to… yearning.” Blanc waves a hand as he finds the word.
“Yearning. Wow.” Phillip deadpans. He tries not to be too bitter, but he’s had much too much wine for self-control.
“Yeah, I appreciate that. You waited to see if I was comfortable.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a grown man. I shouldn’t have to…” Benoit pauses.
“To wait? To be polite? To let a relationship grow naturally.” Jud offers, and Blanc sputters.
“... yeah, I guess.” He grumbles.
Phillip doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man hesitate so much. He doesn’t know if Benoit ever looked at him like that. Would he know? Would he feel worse if he did?
His spiraling thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging open.
“Evening!” Ellie enters, soft Scouse accent making Phillip grin as she smiles brightly at the group.
“Hi, Ellie!” Angie greets. Ellie looks at everybody individually, and her eyes widen when they land on Jud.
“Oh! Hello!” She says, shocked. Jud waves to her as Alec trails in behind, lugging a suitcase, and lurches back like the surprise physically smacked him in the face.
“Who’s the fucking priest?” Alec shouts, the Scotsman ripping through the silence of the majority English room. Well, no longer majority with the presence of Father Jud.
“Alec!” Ellie scolds. Jud stands and sticks a hand out to Alec over the table.
“Judas.” Jud says.
“Jesus.” Alec snorts.
“Judas.” Jud repeats.
“The same joke?!” Charlie cackles.
“If it works!” Jud laughs, voice going up in pitch, like he was embarrassed.
“Could someone help us with the bags up the stairs?” Ellie requests, putting another dish on the table.
“Of course, I’ll come down!” Jud immediately offers, scooting out from in front of his chair and following Ellie out the door.
“Thank you, Father!” Ellie says, muffled through the closing door.
The dining room fell quiet as the elephant in the room left. Kareem and Angie look at each other. Angela looks to the left, away from the rest of the group, her white hair falling down her neck. Kareem looks over at Charlie. Charlie looks at Delia. Delia looks at Phillip and Phillip looks at Blanc, whose eyes are locked on his tightly folded hands. The rest of the friends turn and look at Blanc as well, waiting for him to explain himself. Because, yes, that man needed to explain himself.
He never did, and Phillip got impatient.
“35? 35?!” Phillip whisper-yells, causing Blanc to wince.
“He’s nice!” Benoit squeaks, as much as a man with his voice could squeak.
“He’s a fucking child!” Phillip says through gritted teeth.
“He’s an adult!” Blanc says.
“I think he’s nice,” Kareem pipes up.
“Too nice,” Delia smiles, a slight worry on her face, “He seems naive, especially for you, Blanc.”
“He’s not naive, he’s just kind,” Blanc argues.
“Nobody is that kind without being naive. The boy’s dumb.” Charlie says.
“Do not talk about him that way.” Blanc snaps at Charlie.
Phillip feels an angry, bitter tightness in his chest. He watches Blanc’s protectiveness. He sees the passion in Benoit’s blue eyes. Phillip pictures it, clear in his mind: Benoit chasing after Jud whenever he can. Taking every opportunity to spend time with him. Peacocking around throughout the case, trying to draw Jud’s attention. Only spurred on when he gets such a kind, friendly response. Drinking too much whiskey whenever he wants to push it just a little further.
Phillip remembers the bar, Benoit’s freshly-shaven face coming up and speaking in that sultry smooth voice. Phillip fell quickly. Jud seems to have taken longer to fall for Blanc. Maybe that’s what Blanc liked. To be the one chasing, not to be chased.
“He is 22 years your junior.” Phillip points an accusatory finger at Benoit.
“He’s also a priest, so. Eye for an eye.” Blanc scoffed. Before Phillip can ask what the hell he means, the door opens again. Phillip and Blanc sit back at the same time as Jud enters, carrying Ellie’s large suitcase by himself.
Phillip’s eyes widen at the strong arms on the priest.
“You’ve got a bit of muscle on you, eh?” Alec brings Phillip’s thoughts to words, slapping the boy’s arm.
Jud puts the suitcase down, muscles flexing with the effort and Phillip openly stares. He looks at the boy’s thin, long fingers. Strong arms, lean. Phillip sips his wine. He glances to Benoit, and sees Benoit glaring at him. Phillip raised an eyebrow, and went back to ogling.
“I used to be a boxer, in my previous life.” Jud shrugs.
“Really?” Phillip leans forward, “You look good.”
“Yeah…” Jud rubs the back of his neck, seeming embarrassed, “I keep up with my exercise routine.”
“Why’d you become a priest?” Kareem asks.
“Um…” Jud takes a breath and looks at Benoit, who looks back, concerned, “I… killed a man. In the ring. I… needed a change.”
The room went quiet. Phillip doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. Jud sits, awkward. Blanc keeps his eyes on the priest. Phillip keeps his eyes on Blanc.
“Jesus.” Kareem sighs, shaking his head. Jud nods, before opening his mouth, smiling slightly.
“Actually–” He tries.
“Don’t.” Charlie points at him, “Don’t you dare.”
Jud covers his mouth with both hands.
“I’m sorry, it’s my favorite joke.” He laughs.
Blanc puts a hand on Jud’s leg. Jud looks happy. Blanc looks happy. Phillip feels like he’s going to be sick. He drinks more wine.
Benoit whispers something to Jud, and stands. He knows the sound of Blanc’s lighter anywhere. He waits for what he thinks is the appropriate amount of time before clearing his throat and standing.
“I need some air.” Phillip sighs. He stands, heading towards the door, opening it to see Blanc smoking on the steps.
“Benoit,” Phillip acknowledges. Blanc turns his head slightly, but doesn’t fully look at Phillip.
“Phillip,” Benoit sighs. Phillip sits next to him, a respectable distance away.
“Thank you for taking the cigar outside,” Phillip says.
“Of course,” Blanc smiles. Phillip frowns at him, and Blanc’s smile falls.
“You say that, but you never did it when I was there,” Phillip scoffs. Blanc always smoked inside. Sometimes he opened a window. Sometimes he put it out as soon as Phillip returned. But he always smoked inside. He smoked wherever he wanted, honestly.
Blanc opens and closes his mouth a few times, before sighing and speaking, “... I’m sorry.”
Phillip doesn’t remember the last time Benoit… apologized to him. For anything. Even the divorce.
“Seems like you’re learning a lot now.” Phillip looks up at the moon, waxing, bright in the sky.
“Yeah… I’m a stubborn man.” Blanc chuckles.
“I know.” Phillip deadpans.
The two sit there for a moment, silent except for the sound of the cigar crackling and distant music and train horns. Phillip stares up at the moon and the few stars he can see.
“What did you mean?” He blurts out. Blanc freezes minutely before still moving.
“By what?” Blanc asks, muffled by the cigar.
“Him being a priest is eye for an eye.” Phillip explains.
Blanc exhales smoke, sighing and looking out into the street.
“I understand now.” Blanc states.
Phillip whips his head to look at Blanc. Blanc stares forward, but Phillip can see tears lightly shining in his eyes from the streetlights. Phillip wants to reach out and comfort him, but he knows better.
“What you meant by… my heart belongs to my work. Not… having all of me,” Blanc continues, “I like the way that I am. I like my focus, my drive, the thrill I get from a case solved. That checkmate is still the best thing in my life. The mystery is still my purpose. I don’t believe that will ever change.”
Phillip thinks back to one of their last arguments. Benoit stepping away every time Phillip stepped closer. Phillip begging Benoit to stay. Benoit talking about space. About where his heart belongs. About how Phillip knew when they first got together. Phillip telling Blanc that he thought something would change. Blanc telling him he shouldn’t have waited for that. Phillip saying he wouldn’t wait anymore. Benoit leaving. Phillip crying, drinking, sleeping. Benoit coming back to cuddle him in their bed before giving Phillip pre-prepared divorce papers in the morning.
“I didn’t have a case when I was visiting Jud. When I wanted him to be with me. For the first time, I could give my all to someone who couldn’t give that all back to me. I gave him my entire heart, for those few months, and… he couldn’t give that. He told me that, from the start. He told me that he couldn’t give me everything. Couldn’t give me forever. Couldn’t even give me a week from now. He could only give me the time that we had. That was the only guarantee.” Blanc explains. Phillip watches the single tear drop from Blanc’s eye as the detective… smiles.
“And I took it. I took it happily. I don’t regret it. The nights I stay up waiting for him to finish a call and come to bed… I love it. I love him.” Blanc laughs, sadly.
“That’s where we differ.” Phillip says, “I can’t wait for anybody. If I’m going to be loved, I need it to be everything.”
“I know,” Blanc whispers, “I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you.”
“I’m glad you found someone that can give you what you want.” Phillip smiles.
“More… what I need. I wanted someone to be fully mine while I was half theirs, but… I think this is what I need. I’ll be waiting for him, and he’ll be waiting for me.” Blanc shrugs.
“I loved you.” Phillip croaks out. Blanc doesn’t say anything for a long time.
“I loved you too.” Blanc reaches out and puts his hand on Phillip’s
“Tell me about him.” Phillip instructs.
“You sure?” Blanc asks.
“I am.” Phillip says. Blanc sighs, wistfully.
“He’s… beautiful. The first day I met him, he was grieving. Struggling. On his knees begging for help from God. And, when I walked in, he stood. Greeted me. He didn’t try to say I was wrong for my beliefs. Didn’t tell me I would change my mind. He told me… I was right. He told me that religion was full of stories to learn from. To hold. To use as tools to be better. The sun emerged from the clouds behind him. It put him in a heavenly glow. His eyes glinted with the tears and just… with himself. It circled him. It was like a halo. When I looked at him… I felt something deep within my soul. Something I haven’t felt or considered in years. I felt… warm. I felt peace. I felt good. He was glad to have the opportunity to… talk. To be a priest. To be kind. Through the whole case, he was just… desperate to be good. To do his job. To be kind. His eyes when he looked up at me. His face when I told him what to do. His... his voice... God, his voice... He can be a little annoying, though. He tried to turn himself in, multiple times.”
“Sounds about right. You needed to save someone.” Phillip says, more snarky than he intended.
Blanc inhales, sharply, “... I think he saved me more than I saved him.”
“So cheesy.” Phillip laughs.
“You seeing anyone?” Blanc nudges Phillip.
“Maybe.” Phillip turns away.
“Oh, don’t be coy.” Blanc teases.
“He’s an Irishman. His name’s Colin.”
“You love your accents, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Benoit?” A voice says behind them. American. High-pitched.
Both men leap to their feet, jerking their hands back and turn to Father Jud, looking concerned in the doorway.
“Jud! We were… just…” Benoit starts. He fails to find whatever words he’s searching for, and looks to Phillip for help. Phillip shrugs, not knowing what to say.
“Talking?” Jud finishes for Benoit.
“Yeah, we were talking.” Blanc smiles, grateful. Phillip smiles too; Jud was much less jealous than Phillip was at his age. That was good. Good for Benoit, at least.
“Ok. That’s fine. I was just worried.” Jud says, looking fondly at Blanc.
“Thank you, Jud.” Benoit whispers, taking Jud’s hand and kissing his scarred knuckles. Phillip sighs, smiling, yet sad. Jud glances at Phillip.
“He knows we’re poly, right–” Jud tries to ask Blanc.
“Thank you, Jud!” Benoit interrupts him and shoves the boy inside as he cackles.
“Logical next step for the way you are, I suppose.” Phillip laughs.
“Mmhm.” Benoit grumbles. Jud runs up the stairs, leaving the two to walk up more slowly.
“He is extremely fit.” Phillip comments.
“Oh, God, his legs.” Benoit gushes. Phillip laughs and they enter the apartment, closing the door behind them as Benoit puts the cigar out.