by M. J. O'Shea
“Sleep,” Rory muttered.
Ben listened.
WHEN HE woke the second time, his bed was empty. That seemed normal to Ben until he remembered that it wasn’t supposed to be empty, that he wasn’t supposed to be alone. Ben’s heart sank right into his stomach until he heard the radio playing softly from the main room. Rory was still there.
Ben dragged himself out of bed and ambled out into the living room to see what Rory was up to. He wasn’t in the living room but rather in the kitchen with pancakes and bacon and scrambled eggs sizzling in pans that Ben didn’t even realize he had.
“Where’d you get all this?” Ben asked fuzzily.
“My house.” Rory rolled his eyes. “Do you own any food?” he asked.
“Not usually.” Ben leaned over and inhaled appreciatively. “But that smells amazing.” He reached out to snag a crispy piece of bacon.
“Hey!” Rory laughed. “Hands off or you don’t get any. Make yourself useful and grab some plates or something.”
So we’re okay. We cuddled in bed all night, and we’re just fine. He’d expected some awkwardness, maybe a conversation about last night’s confession. Everything seemed to be fine. More than fine. It was comfortable and fun, and Ben loved it. He hip-checked Rory and reached up for plates and glasses.
“My headache and I owe you big time for this,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll take my payment in queso.”
For the two heartbeats that Ben thought he was gonna say kisses, he just about passed out. Good thing he collected himself quickly enough to smile and say, “Duly noted.”
“MAN, WHO stole my Oreos?” Ben asked with a frown. They’d been sitting right on the counter earlier, right where he put them. He’d been looking forward to those Oreos all morning, even went all the way to the cafeteria to buy milk to dunk them in.
“Should know better than to leave cookies just lying around,” Rory said with a shrug. He didn’t look at Ben’s face. Most predictable tell in the world.
“You ate them, didn’t you?” Rory’s shoulders started to shake. “You little shit, you didn’t eat them. Where are my cookies?” Ben laughed and started to lunge around Rory, hands in his lap, tickling his sides, and then he remembered he was in the staff lounge and froze. “Please? I might have a panic attack if I don’t get some sugar.”
Rory pulled the small pack of Oreos out from beneath the table. Ben yanked them away with a gleeful cackle. “And to think I was going to share them with you,” he said to Rory. “You are getting none of my cookies. Zero.”
Pinky raised her eyebrows at Fen. Ben noticed. It wasn’t like she was sly about it or anything. Rory rolled his eyes fondly, and yeah, Ben could say that it was fondly because he knew that look, and then he glanced at his watch.
“Shit.” Rory pushed his chair back. “I’ve gotta go get set up for my next period. We’re extracting caffeine from coffee in my honors class.” Poor baby looked super excited about it too. Ben wanted to cuddle him close and kiss his forehead for being so dorky and cute.
“You’re leaving?” he said instead. Crap. That didn’t sound too disappointed, did it?
“Yeah. I have to. I don’t want to be hauling supplies out of the cabinets as the bell rings. I’ll see you guys later?”
Jeremy, Fen, and Pinky all smiled and nodded.
“See ya later, Ro,” Ben mumbled.
Rory put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, then waved at the other three before he turned and left the room.
“You know, every time you tell me that there’s nothing going on between the two of you, I believe it less and less,” Fen said with a sly smile as soon as the door closed.
“There really isn’t.” Ben smiled back, although his was more on the sad side. “Believe me. You’d be peeling me off the ceiling if Rory ever decided he wanted me.”
“He wants you,” Jeremy said quietly. “He sure as hell doesn’t look at Fen and I the way he looks at you.”
Ben wanted to hear that more than anything. But he couldn’t. Not if he wanted to remain sane. He and Rory were friends and had to stay that way. Any hint of something more would leave him spinning. He wouldn’t be able to think of anything else… not that he did much anyway.
“Guys, I can’t,” he muttered. “I know you’re just… being nice or whatever, but Rory’s made it really clear he and I are just friends, and I don’t want to ruin it by trying to turn it into something else.”
Ben looked at the table and fiddled with the half of his brownie that hadn’t been stolen. It hurt how much he wanted it. When he thought about not being with Rory ever again, it literally and physically hurt. Ben went to stand up and leave, but Fen put his arm out to stop him.
“Got it, man. Mouth shut,” Fen answered. “Just stay and finish lunch.”
A FEW days later, Ben was sorting through his e-mails after school when his computer pinged with a new message. It was them. The Garten-Bosch Fellowship. First round judging must be over. He clicked open the e-mail and read the congratulations. He was through. It wasn’t a big deal, he told himself. Ben had gotten through the first round before—both years he’d applied, actually. It was the second round, the one in the spring, right before they chose the five recipients out of the finalists that he usually failed to pass. No big deal. Nothing much to say to anyone.
“Hey, what you up to?” Rory’s head popped around the door to his classroom. Ben jumped a little.
“Just reading some e-mails,” he answered.
“Anything good?”
Ben shrugged. “I’ve applied for this art and teaching fellowship down in Los Angeles every year. They just e-mailed to say I got through the first round of the application process.”
“Hey, that’s great, isn’t it?” Rory’s face split into a huge grin.
No. Ben honestly didn’t want to go. It was still the first round; he could wait for rejection in March, but now that things were different, now that he was finally happy or at least hovering on the edge of it, he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave Rory.
“It’s not a big deal. I usually get through this part. It’s getting through the second cut that’s eluded me in the past.”
“You’ll get it this year. I can feel it.”
How bad is it to say I hope not?
Rory came around to Ben’s side of the desk and pulled him up and into a big, warm hug. “I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there like that every year. It’s gotta be tough.”
Ben’s throat went all thick, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in Rory’s neck. So he did. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I hope it goes well.” The question was what exactly did “well” mean?
Chapter Nine
THERE WAS always a bit of magic in the air the last day of school before winter holidays. Even for the teachers. Or maybe especially for the teachers. They reveled in the impending days of freedom just as much as the kids did. There were red-and-green sweaters decorating the hallways, big smiles, kids and adults alike counting down the hours until they were free for two gloriously long weeks.
Ben had been looking forward to break since the beginning of the month. Even with all the distractions, with Rory and happiness and just everything, he still needed it—time to sleep in and hang out with his mom and catch up on all the television he’d recorded on the nights he was out having fun with the guys. He was looking forward to relaxing. He was looking forward to spending time with Rory even more. They’d already made plans to lounge around and do nothing together at least a couple days out of the break.
Ben cleared up his desk as the final class cleaned up their projects and put chairs on top of the tables. The bell was about to ring. He felt anticipation build pleasantly in his chest.
“Have a fun break, everyone,” he said as he checked the room to make sure all was put away and ready to go. The bell rang, and the room filled with cheerful good-byes and waves to Ben. He grinned and waved back. Christmas. Finally. He didn’t have any plans
for the night. The staff party had been the weekend before, and Rory, well, Rory wasn’t available that night. Ben knew why. He tried not to think about it. It didn’t matter. He’d have Rory to himself soon. He dumped the few things he’d need over break into his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulders. Classroom door locked, and freedom was officially his.
Ben made a couple of short stops in his friends’ classrooms to make plans for break and then took off for a long quiet night with snacks and his TV for companionship.
IT WAS nearly ten o’clock. Ben had been puttering around his loft in his pajamas for a few hours, happy for the days to relax before his mom’s side of the family got into town. He had a bowl of ice cream and the remote in his hand, ready to sit and watch reality TV for the rest of the night, when his doorbell rang. Ben only knew one person who’d just show up without any warning. Rory. But he was out, right? As far as Ben knew, it was one of those nights when he had “plans,” which probably meant Keith, the boyfriend nobody ever saw who really didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Ben tried not to hate him. Tried. He put his snack down and shuffled over to the door.
“Hey—”
His greeting was cut off when Rory slammed him against the wall of his front hallway and glued their mouths together. For one glorious moment, Ben didn’t think, didn’t talk, just reacted, felt, reveled. Rory’s kiss sang through his blood; he arched his back and moaned into it. But then reality hit, and Ben wanted to scream. He gritted his teeth and pushed Rory away.
“What are you doing, Ro?” he asked. Even he could hear how ragged his voice sounded. “I don’t get it. After all this time.”
“I just need you. I got there, and he was fucking some other guy like it was no big deal and I shouldn’t care, and really, it was a big deal, but I don’t know if I did care. It never works, Ben. It never works. I’ve been walking around and trying to figure it out, but I can’t. I just keep comparing them, and they’re not….” Rory looked up, his eyes desperate and sad. He was a little drunk and a lot angry, and Ben knew this was a recipe for disaster.
“Ro, c’mon. Let’s just go lie down, and we’ll talk about it, ’kay?”
“I don’t wanna talk.” Rory fisted his hands in Ben’s shirt. “Don’t say no to me. Please.”
He leaned forward, just the few inches that had separated their faces and kissed Ben again. This kiss was different, tentative instead of angry, seeking, soft. Ben wanted to surrender so badly. More than he’d wanted anything ever, even when they were kids. He pulled away, and damn, it was nearly impossible. But he did it.
“You don’t want me, Ro. You’re hurt and pissy. This isn’t for real.”
“Don’t you get it? I do want you. That’s the fucking problem. Please.” Rory’s face was tired and broken, soft and longing. Ben didn’t have the strength to say no anymore, especially when he’d never wanted to say no in the first place. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across Rory’s mouth.
“I’m not saying no,” he whispered. “I can’t.”
Rory groaned and pulled Ben to him, ravaging his mouth with sucking, hot, desperate kisses. All Ben felt was Rory, all he tasted, all he dreamed. He didn’t know how to process the fact that it was really happening. It felt like a dream.
“Let me take you to bed,” Rory said. “I want you.”
Ben nodded shakily, and Rory slid his hand into Ben’s and pulled him down the hallway. Ben followed mindlessly, eyes on Rory’s slim back, on their fingers tangled together. His pulse raced as they crossed the threshold to his bedroom.
“You sure about this?” Ben asked. He didn’t want to, but he felt like he should.
Rory nodded and tugged his jacket off, tossing it on the armchair in the corner of the room. “I’m sure.” He slid his hands under Ben’s hoodie. They were cold, and Ben jumped. Rory chuckled. “Sorry.” He pulled Ben’s sweatshirt over his head and leaned forward to feather kisses along his collarbone.
“Ro,” Ben said softly. He just… he couldn’t believe it was happening.
“You’re so beautiful,” Rory murmured into his skin. He pulled his own shirt off before dragging Ben into a hug, skin to skin. It had been years, but it felt the same.
Ben closed his eyes and squeezed tighter, almost afraid to move for fear that he’d wake up, that he’d be dreaming.
“Hey,” Rory said softly.
Ben looked up. “Yeah?”
“Kiss me. You have no idea how much I’ve missed your kisses all this time.”
Ben didn’t need any further invitation. He wound his fingers into Rory’s hair and pulled him close. It was a different kiss than the one in the bathroom at the club, different than the one in the front hallway. It felt, well, it felt like before. Like lazy summer afternoons and first love and being a kid again.
Rory backed Ben up toward his bed, tugging at his pajama bottoms, sliding his hands underneath and along bare skin. “We never did this before,” he said softly.
“I always wanted to,” Rory answered. “I just didn’t think we were ready.”
“I did too.” Ben unbuttoned Rory’s jeans and pushed them down over slim thighs. He was beautiful. They stepped out of their bottoms and crawled under the covers on Ben’s bed. Long minutes were spent touching and kissing, dragging fingers and palms across skin and simply staring. There were so many things Ben wanted to say. Sappy, lovey things that he’d never be able to take back. So instead, he kissed his way down Rory’s belly and hips and thighs until Rory was squirming and arching his back. Then Ben sucked his cock down in one slick slide.
“Oh, God, Ben. Fuck.” Rory slammed his hand down on the bed and grabbed at the sheet. “I can’t believe… Jesus.”
Ben licked and tasted and searched for Rory’s hand. He had to feel the connection. He’d never wanted it before with anyone else, but this time, it felt important. It was Rory. He seemed to know what Ben wanted. He reached down and twined their fingers together and squeezed. Then he used his grip to pull Ben up and over his body into a kiss. They kissed for a long time, legs and arms and hands in a sweaty tangle.
“I could kiss you forever,” Rory muttered against Ben’s lips. “Why did I try to pretend I didn’t want to?”
Ben chuckled. He was so happy that it just kind of bubbled out of him. “Beats me.” He leaned forward and kissed Rory again. “I’d never bother.”
Kisses melted into more touching, mouths sucking love bites into desperate skin. Ben had never felt so close to someone else. Like that old saying about becoming one person? Yeah, he’d always thought it was cheesy as hell, but seriously. Ben felt like he and Rory were connected, by skin and lips and something a lot less tangible but a million times more real.
“Hey,” Rory said softly between kisses. “Awkward question, but what do you like? I don’t even know. Are you…?” He looked like he didn’t want to say it.
“I don’t care,” Ben breathed out. He’d take Rory any way he could have him. “What do you like?”
Rory breathed out a soft chuckle. “Both. But I want to be inside you. Is that okay?” He ran his hand up the inside of Ben’s thigh until his fingers were pressing gently at his entrance.
“Y-yeah. That’s… yes.” Ben gulped. “Hold on.” He rolled over and scrambled for his supplies. He didn’t want to wait a minute. Didn’t want to wait even a second to feel Rory’s fingers. To feel Rory.
Moments later, Ben pressed a bottle into Rory’s hand. “I want to feel you,” he murmured, barely even able to care how desperate he must sound. If the look in Rory’s eyes was anything to go by, he didn’t care either. He wanted it just as bad. Rory slicked his hand up and dropped the bottle.
“Open for me,” he said. Ben parted his thighs and groaned when Rory slid one finger in deep. “Gorgeous. You’re gonna feel so amazing,” he whispered.
“You too. So good,” Ben echoed. He wanted more. Wanted to be closer.
Rory worked Ben open with his fingers, got him breathless with hot kisses and breathy moans. “You ready?
” he asked, long minutes later.
“Yeah. Ready.” Ben was so damn ready. He felt like he’d been waiting for that moment his whole life. He pulled at Rory until he was between his thighs. Rory reached to the comforter and tore the condom open, rolling it down with practiced ease. Ben didn’t like to think that he’d done this before. He hated that he hadn’t been Rory’s first and that Rory hadn’t been his. It should’ve been that way. Didn’t matter, he supposed. They were fixing it now.
Rory leaned over for another kiss as he lined up and pushed slowly, inch by inch, until he was all the way in. Ben felt like he couldn’t breathe—so full and stretched and surrounded by Rory, by his smell and taste and the feel of his body. Rory shuddered hard.
“I never thought….” Rory started to say, but then his voice got choked up, and he pulled out, then rolled his hips hard to sink back in.
“Oh, God.” Ben grappled at sweat-slick skin.
He felt like he was spinning, like he couldn’t hold on to anything. It was surreal. Rory plunged again and again, deep and slow, unraveling Ben a thread at time until he was a shaky, sweaty, melted mess. All he had was sensation, Rory thick inside of him, the slippery slide of skin dragging across his sensitive cock, breath in his ear, soft hair and skin and firm, springy muscle under his fingers.
Ben barely realized when his body lost control. It was only a vague cry coming from somewhere outside of him and a slick rush of heat on his stomach that made him realize at all. He groaned and clutched at Rory who moaned and stroked deep, again and again and again. Moments later, Rory froze and arched his head back with a cry. Ben held him through it, and even after, when he flopped down bonelessly.
It took long minutes for either of them to move. Rory separated them with a gentle kiss and padded to Ben’s bathroom, only to return with a warm damp cloth. He cleaned Ben off and tossed the cloth to the floor before he slipped into bed next to him. They didn’t say much, just kinda lay there and stared. Ben couldn’t quit smiling and running his fingers across Rory’s face. He didn’t know when it would sink in, that it had really happened. Rory looked sleepy, so Ben cuddled him in and pulled the blankets up over them. He burrowed in so that his face was even with Rory’s neck. They used to sleep like that sometimes. It felt right.