by Marie Sexton
“Have you read the script yet?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re going to, right?”
“Eventually.”
“Good, because the word is that most of the other actors are waiting to hear your decision before they’ll commit.”
Jason blinked, absorbing that. “Really?”
“Well, one of them is your friend Dylan, so that’s no real surprise. But also Kayleigh Brooks. Do you remember her?”
“Of course.” Especially after watching the movie so recently and answering Ben’s questions about whether or not he found her attractive.
“She’s holding out too. Says she’ll only do it if you’re on board. But without you, Kayleigh and Dylan both intend to pass. And without the three of you, the entire project is doomed. The producers are starting to panic.”
It surprised him. Sure, he and Kayleigh had gotten along. They’d worked well together. But he would never have expected her to base her decision on him. “I’ll read it soon, I promise.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, and he knew she was fumbling for something else to say, although he couldn’t figure out why she suddenly seemed so awkward. “Are you having a good Thanksgiving?” she asked at last. “Not spending it alone, I hope?”
She knew he’d never be with his parents. This was her way of checking in. “No, I’m not alone.” Although with Ben gone, it sure felt that way. “I’m spending it with a friend.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You take care, all right?”
“I will.” He clicked off and sat, staring blankly out the window, lost in thought.
He wanted to take the part. It made no sense—only a few weeks ago, he’d sworn he was through with Hollywood forever. And yet now he found himself wondering about how it would feel to make Summer Camp Nightmare 4.
First, he’d be with Dylan, but that thought didn’t fill him with joy the way it once had. There was Kayleigh, who he hadn’t thought about since the first movie had wrapped, but he remembered her fondly. There was the new director. A few quick calls around would be enough to determine what kind of set the man ran. Jason worried he’d regret it later like he always did, and yet acting was something he knew. Besides, he’d need to work eventually, one way or another. Wasn’t acting as good a way to make a living as any?
Sometimes he thought so. Sometimes he thought it was hell.
Movement outside the window caught his eye, and he looked up to see Ben had returned. After being outside in the cold for so long, Ben’s cheeks and nose should have been rosy, but he was pale as always. He waved, indicating he was finished wandering the property, and Jason rose and joined him on the patio. “Well,” he asked after winding the snow globe, “what’d you find out?”
“Two thousand paces,” Ben said. “That’s how far I got, every single time.”
“Just like in the globe?”
“I guess now I know the length of my tether.” He leaned back against the air, two inches in front of the patio railing. “I thought I’d be mad about it when the globe pulled me back, but two thousand paces isn’t bad, right? It’s far enough away that we can each have our privacy if we need it, but not so far that I feel like you’ve left me.”
Jason nodded, thinking how much he’d missed Ben while he’d been wandering through the woods counting his steps. He thought again about the conversation he’d had with Natalie. He’d been on the verge of deciding to take the part but now, seeing Ben’s smiling face, he wavered. “I don’t know how you maintain such a good attitude about all of this.”
Ben laughed. “Oh, it hasn’t always been positive. You caught me in a good decade.”
Jason wanted to laugh too, but found he couldn’t. He was busy thinking about Kayleigh and Natalie. And Summer Camp Nightmare 4.
And Dylan.
“Sometimes I feel like I have a tether too, only it’s less about distance and more about time.”
Ben wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“With Hollywood. With my career. Like I can’t go too long without committing to something. Even when I know I shouldn’t, I still hear this voice inside me telling me it has to be done.”
“And is that voice automatically wrong? Or is it your assumption that you shouldn’t do it that’s wrong?”
Jason shrugged it off, not wanting to explore the analogy any further. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
Ben nodded and tilted his head back to gaze up at the stars, as if soaking them in.
“We can stay out for a while if you want.”
Ben glanced over at him. Aren’t you freezing? The music box had run out, but Jason was able to lip-read the question.
“A little. But I can fix that.”
He went inside and added a couple of layers—a sweatshirt and his coat and gloves—then grabbed an extra comforter out of the closet to wrap around himself. When he emerged again onto the back patio, he found Ben lying flat on the wooden surface. In the near darkness, he seemed more solid than ever, his skin pale and beautiful in the starlight. He’d only misjudged his placement by about half an inch. He seemed to float lazily just above the rough wooden boards. Jason grabbed the globe and wound it as he crossed over to Ben.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Sure,” Ben said. “You should come down here too. It’ll be easier on your neck.”
“But harder on my back.” Nonetheless, Jason obliged. He set the globe down and spread the blanket out, letting it fall through Ben’s form and settle underneath him, so it seemed like they were sharing it. He lay next to Ben and pulled the edge up over himself for warmth.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Ben asked. “This is one of the things I’ve loved about this house ever since I came here. The other places I’ve been the last few decades were all in town, and it’s so much harder to see the stars. But out here, they’re everywhere. It’s how I remember it being back in Tennessee. I’d go into the neighbor’s apple orchard and lay there staring up at the stars.”
Jason stared up into the sparkling void. “It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I suppose.” But Jason was a city boy, through and through. He found the expanse of endless stars above him a bit disconcerting: one small, twinkling light for every aspiring star in Hollywood. It was a horrible reminder of how small and insignificant he really was. He chose to ignore the sky and turned toward Ben instead, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on one elbow. The motion took him nearer to Ben, bringing them almost face-to-face. It would have taken very little effort to roll forward a bit more. If Ben were solid, they would have been touching. He could easily have shifted his weight and lain on top of Ben. He might have stared down into his trusting eyes. The thought made Jason’s heart ache.
“Tell me about the orchard.”
“It was on the property adjacent to ours. My dad hoped to buy that land eventually—to expand his farm—but he never had the money, and I was glad. I would have been sad to see all those apple trees torn down only to make room for more cotton.”
“You like apples?”
“I do.” Ben closed his eyes in remembrance. “I did, at least. Sometimes we’d buy some of the windfall from him, and Cook would make applesauce. But what I liked most was just being there, in the middle of all those trees. My dad never thought to look for me there. Nobody did.” He opened his eyes again, smiling. “It’s funny. I used to want nothing more than to be left alone. And now, I feel like I’ve had enough solitude to last me an eternity.”
“I can understand that.” Both parts of it, truth be told.
“This is perfect though,” Ben went on, scooting a bit closer and lowering his eyelids in a way that would have seemed like flirtation on anybody else, but on him somehow came across as sweet and hesitant. “Being with you.”
Jason soaked that in as the music box ran down. It really was perfect, lying there together under the cove
r of night. Nothing stirred around them. Not a single sound penetrated their haven. Was it really so silent? Was the universe really holding its breath just for them? Or was it only that he no longer cared about anything but Ben? Ben seemed so real and solid beside him, his pale skin practically glowing, his full lips dark and pouting and begging to be tasted, his every glance and move and gesture an unknowing invitation, and for the first time, Jason hated their predicament.
“Man, this sucks,” he said quietly.
Ben cocked his head. Raised an eyebrow in query.
“I’d give anything to be able to kiss you right now.”
Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. Those lips that had so thoroughly captivated Jason formed the word, Really?
“Yes, really.” Now that he’d said it, he wanted it even more than before. “You have the most perfect lips I’ve ever seen. It’s driving me crazy.”
Ben’s image flickered. Jason wondered if it was from embarrassment, or discomfort, or something else entirely.
“You’d let me?” Jason asked. “If I could?”
Ben nodded, putting up a hand as if he could touch Jason’s cheek, and for a moment they lay there, staring into each other’s eyes. Jason felt sure they were both contemplating the magnitude of exactly what they were being denied. Ben’s eyes became sad, then thoughtful. Finally, he turned and pointed at the globe, and Jason dutifully wound it as far as it would go before setting it aside and returning to his position leaning over Ben’s spectral form.
“What else would you do, if you could?”
Jason felt a thrill at the sudden invitation he saw in Ben’s eyes, and at the shy seductiveness of his tone. “Anything you’d let me.”
“You’d kiss me on the mouth?”
“God, yes.”
Ben smiled, biting the lower lip that Jason longed to touch. “Anywhere else?”
“Your cheek. And then your ear. And then . . .”
“Yes?”
“I’d leave a few marks on that pretty neck of yours.”
Ben put his fingers against his neck, caressing the skin between his ear and his shoulder. He turned his head, exposing that expanse of flesh to Jason’s sight. “Here?”
“Yes.” It came out a breathless moan. “And while I was doing that, I’d undo your shirt.” He eyed the buttons running down Ben’s chest. “I’d move it aside and—”
“No.” Ben shook his head. “You don’t want to see me naked.”
“Really? It sure feels like I do.”
“I’m skinny and weak and pale. I’m runty. That’s what my dad always said.”
“I would never use that word to describe you.”
“Well, I don’t look like you.”
“Good. If you looked like me, it’d be damn weird for me to be this attracted to you.”
“I only meant—”
“I know what you meant.” Now that they were talking about it, he couldn’t help but imagine Ben naked, and the thought made his heart do strange, fluttery things. “You’re wrong. I very much want to see you naked. And telling me you’re skinny and pale isn’t changing that.” Quite the opposite, in fact. True, Ben wasn’t big or muscular, but Jason suspected his skin was soft as silk. He imagined kissing Ben’s flat stomach, and the ache in his groin increased at the thought. He had to reach down and shift his jeans over his growing erection. “Take off your jacket and shirt for me, and I’ll prove it. And then I’ll tell you all the other things I’d like to do to you.”
Ben’s lips turned down into a frown. “I can’t.”
“You can’t take off your clothes?”
“I can inside, but not out here.” He moved his hands oddly over his chest, rubbing his fingers together over his sternum before moving his hands an inch lower and doing it again. It took Jason a moment to realize he was working buttons, and yet the image of his dark waistcoat lay unmoving on his chest. “See? It’s like it’s only a picture of me, and I can’t change it.”
“That’s even more unfair than not being able to kiss you.”
Ben laughed, but he didn’t sound amused. He seemed forlorn, and he turned his face away, staring sadly across the cold, brown grass to the distant woods.
He thinks that’s the end of it, Jason realized. He can’t take off his clothes, so he thinks I’ve given up on him already.
“I’d undo your shirt,” Jason said, picking up his monologue from before, and Ben’s eyes returned to him, bright with hope. “I’d push it off of you while I kissed your chest. And then I’d move to your nipples. I’d spend a long time there, too. Has anybody ever done that for you?”
Ben’s lips moved. The music box had run out, but Jason understood him anyway. No.
“You’ll be surprised at how good it feels. And while I’m doing that, I’d undo your pants, because despite what you may think, I do want to see you naked. Desperately. So I’d take your pants off next, just so I could look at you.” Jason imagined Ben lying naked and vulnerable in front of him. He imagined his cock, thin and pale. “Are you circumcised?”
He thought he detected a blush at that question, but then Ben shook his head no.
“Oh man,” Jason breathed. “Good answer.”
Ben smiled, his eyes full of something Jason had never seen there before. He pointed at the globe, and Jason turned the key a couple of times. “Do you remember when you first saw me?” Ben asked.
“Yes.”
“And do you remember what that man was doing for you at the time?”
“A blowjob?”
“That’s what you call it?”
“Yes.”
Ben closed his eyes. His image flickered, but then glowed strong. When he opened his eyes again, they were dark and seductive. “Would you do that to me?”
“Gladly.”
Ben smiled shyly. “I bet it feels good.”
“That’s a bet you’d win.” Jason imagined moving down Ben’s pale stomach to his groin. He imagined the dark hair there, and Ben’s uncut erection. He imagined sliding back Ben’s foreskin and tasting the dampness underneath. “Jesus,” he moaned, reaching down to cup his aching groin in his hand. He either needed to touch himself or go take an ice-cold shower. “You’re going to leave me in a bit of a predicament here.”
“Then solve it,” Ben said, his voice low and throaty. “Here with me.”
Jason nearly laughed before the meaning of Ben’s words hit him. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Ben’s eyes were surprisingly bold. “I can pretend this hand on me is yours. And you can pretend the hand on you is mine.”
“You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.”
Could he really do this? Jason glanced around them, at his dark backyard and the distant trees, then back at Ben’s face. He was usually so full of joy, but now his eyes glowed with something else—something far more primal and far more arousing. His lips formed a perfect pout as he waited for Jason’s decision.
Jason considered, caressing his erection through his jeans as he did. A low, desperate sound escaped from his throat.
“Yes,” Ben urged as the music box wound down. “Like that.”
Jason hesitated. Was he seriously considering jacking off with Ben’s projection here, on the exposed space of his back patio?
Yes. Yes, he was.
It was too cold to take off his coat, but he removed his gloves and unbuttoned his pants, finally freeing himself from the constraint of his jeans. He stopped long enough to wind the music box again as far as it would go—he wanted to be able to hear Ben—and then returned to his position above Ben, only this time with his free hand wrapped around his cock.
“Tell me you’re really doing this too,” he said as he began to stroke.
Ben nodded, seemingly breathless, his eyes half-lidded. Jason studied the length of Ben’s body as he continued his own masturbation. Their upper halves were more or less separate, but with Jason leaning over him, Ben’s spectral form intercepted Jason’s body from about t
he waist down. He could see Ben’s arm moving, although he couldn’t see Ben’s cock. It disconcerted him, so he focused instead on Ben’s pleasure-flushed face.
Jason made his living pretending, and it was easy to fall back on that skill now. He and Ben really were together, skin to skin, both as solid and real as the deck beneath them. Ben stroked him, and he stroked Ben. He imagined devouring Ben’s gorgeous lips. He imagined kissing Ben’s neck, and Ben’s warm mouth brushing his ear. He built his dream world on the sound of Ben’s frantic moans and the sight of his lust-filled eyes. God, he was gorgeous. Young and blindingly innocent. So trapped, and yet completely unafraid. He met Jason’s gaze without embarrassment or apology—nothing but the obvious joy of sharing themselves in such an intimate way and the desperate urgency of knowing the end would come too soon.
“Jason,” Ben breathed, his voice strained, and Jason knew what that meant. He felt his own pleasure begin to peak in response.
“Not yet,” he pleaded, wanting to revel in that warm shared space forever. “Not yet, honey. Please hang on.”
“I . . . I don’t think I can.”
And the minute Ben lost it, Jason knew he would too. He sped up his strokes. He imagined driving Ben relentlessly toward his climax. He gazed into Ben’s eyes, saw the boy’s futile struggle to hold on, and suddenly felt guilty for his selfishness. “Don’t fight it,” he whispered. “Do what feels good, and I’ll be right here with you.”
Ben blinked, his image wavering. “Oh . . .” he said quietly.
And then he came.
Jason couldn’t see the details, but he didn’t need to. He knew by the way Ben’s body moved, the way his back and neck arched. He knew by the way Ben’s image flickered fitfully, and the expression on his gorgeous face. And Jason watched, letting his own orgasm come too, ejaculating onto the blanket as he reveled in the sight of Ben’s pleasure. The music box ran down before it was over, but it was easy to imagine Ben’s soft sighs as he finally went still. His image wavered and began to fade. His eyes drifted shut, as if he could barely hold them open. He gripped his chest with one pale hand.