There was no way in hell he couldn't reach that damn tattoo on his own. And it was so close ... It would put Ben's hands so close to ...
"Okay."
Duke set down his beer and headed to the bathroom, an unspoken expectation that Ben would follow. By the time he caught up, Duke was standing there amidst the white and blue tile, his shirt already on the floor, and he was opening up his pants. Feeling his own cock go to steel, Ben hovered in the doorway. How many times had he fantasized about an image just like this?
With his pants pushed down to just below his hips, the thin line of hair trailing down his abdomen beginning to bloom into short, black curls, Duke stood there expectantly. His voice broke as he asked, "Well?"
His heart pounding, blood rushing and his chest so tight, Ben pushed past Duke to sit on the edge of the bathtub, fearing his legs would give out if he tried to do this standing. "Come here."
Duke turned toward him and stepped in close. Without even meaning to, Ben found his eyes dipping down lower, past the plastic of the bandage. With the way Duke was holding the waistband of his pants to keep them from falling down completely, there wasn't much to see. But for a second, Ben thought he caught the tell-tale line of a hard cock pressing against the fabric. He wondered if Duke was just as turned on by all of this as he was.
"Do you... How..." The knot in Ben's throat made it hard to get the words out.
"Just take the bandage off. Please."
Ben nodded and then brought his hand up to hover over the warm, tanned skin of Duke's abdomen. For a second, he let it linger there, unable to bridge that thin gap of air. Finally, he felt his fingertips graze flesh. And it hurt. To want so much. To be so close.
Placing his other hand on Duke's thigh to steady himself, Ben carefully began to peel back the first strip of tape and then the next.
"How does it look?" Duke asked huskily.
"Beautiful." As he pulled away the last bit of tape and exposed the tattoo to the air, Ben felt an overwhelming urge to press his lips to the smooth skin beside it. To run his nose along the length of the cock just below it. The ink was still covered with a little bit of blood and goo, though, and he knew it needed to be cleaned. Only, the more he thought about how he would possibly go about washing it, the more distracted he got. "You're going to have to take your pants off, or they're going to get wet."
"I know." Duke started to slide the fabric down, and just as everything was about to come into view, Ben closed his eyes.
He couldn't do this.
"I – Duke, I – "
"It's okay," Duke whispered, and then somehow he was on the floor, kneeling in front of Ben, their faces at eye-level with each other. Ben blinked, disbelieving and so aroused. Then, almost silently, Duke exhaled his name.
"But – " Ben didn't get the next word out. He didn't get any words out, because suddenly there were lips, soft and warm. He felt stubble against his chin and a hand at his waist, and it was Duke.
He was kissing Duke.
The muffled groan that fell out of his throat was his body catching up with his mind. Parting his own lips, Ben kissed back, grabbing onto bare skin and pulling closer, closer, closer. He gave himself over to it – to the thing he'd wanted for as long as he could remember. And suddenly it seemed like it was his.
A traitorous thought bloomed in the back of his mind, though, and even as he was opening himself, his tongue darting out to touch, he felt the bottom falling out. In one swift motion, Ben tore himself away. "Duke. What – ?"
Duke just shushed him and placed small kisses all around his mouth and chin. "I had to know. I didn't – I didn't want to – "
Ben heard those words louder than all the others. I didn't want to. The parts inside of him that had started to open slammed back down. "You – "
"Not unless it was real," Duke interrupted. "Not unless I knew you did, too."
Ben's thoughts were reeling. "Unless I – "
Duke pulled back and placed his hands on the sides of Ben's face. Looking at him levelly, he intoned, "Unless I knew you wanted this, too."
"This?"
Nodding, Duke leaned forward. And just before their lips could meet again, he whispered, "This."
All of the arguments and all of the misgivings disappeared beneath the pressure of that perfect touch. Falling forward, Ben let his arms wrap around the hard lines of muscle along Ben's back and side, taking care not to touch the fresh tattoo as the two men let their mouths explore.
Over the course of so many years, Ben had had a lot of opportunities to imagine what it might be like to kiss his best friend. What he'd never imagined was that it would be better than he'd ever guessed. So much better.
Between kisses, he dragged in ragged breaths, trying to explain everything he felt, but there wasn't room in his lungs. There wasn't enough air or space, and what little he had of either was all being spent on the man before him. "Wanted it. So much. For so long."
"Always," Duke agreed. "Just didn't think I could. Not until last night."
Ben pulled away slightly. "Last night?"
Duke nodded, his hand tender on Ben's jaw. "When you asked about the times when I was happy. I meant it, Ben. It's always been with you. And I realized, I want ... I want all of it. All the time. I'm finally willing to admit that."
It felt like something cracked in Ben's ribs, and he pressed his face hard against Duke's neck, his arms wrapping around the other man's waist so tightly as he laughed. "I want that. I do."
Slowly, he shifted one of his arms to place his palm against Duke's heart, then trailed a single finger down the center of his chest, past his navel and then lower.
He paused just before he hit the still-raw skin beside Duke's hip, circling around it gently. Pulling back, he said, "We do need to get this washed."
Duke's face fell, his hands dropping away from Ben's face. "Oh."
Ben caught his wrists, smirking. "So what are you waiting for?" At Duke's hesitant expression, Ben brought their joined hands down to the waistband of Duke's pants, now hanging low on his hips. He pushed them lower, then pressed his lips to the other man's jaw, whispering, "Best way to do that is in the shower."
With a low, "Fuck, yes," Duke's mouth found Ben's. Together, they pushed his pants the rest of the way down. Ben had to close his eyes against what he knew he would see when he glanced down, sucking hard on Duke's bottom lip to keep from crying out. When he did finally look, the noise in his throat could not be contained. And neither could he.
Duke's cock was long and thick, rosy with need and leaking. Ben had seen it before of course; hell, once he'd even caught a glimpse of it erect when they'd been in the shower after practice at age sixteen. But he'd never seen it like this. Not when it was it was hard for him.
He couldn't help himself from reaching down, surrounding the solid length of it with his hand. He pulled a few slow strokes and slipped his thumb through the slick drop at the head before reaching down to his balls, learning the shape of him. When Duke moaned at the contact, Ben swore he felt it in every part of him. Before long, though, Duke was stilling Ben's hand, breathing harshly as he kissed his way to Ben's ear. "Slow. Please. I've been imagining this all day. Hoping. God, I hoped you'd touch me."
Moving his hand to Duke's hip and pulling him close, Ben breathed, "I want to do more than touch you." They met in a blistering kiss, and Ben scraped his teeth along Duke's tongue. "You're gonna feel so fucking good inside me."
"Jesus."
Their mouths only separated long enough for Duke to pull Ben's shirt over his head, but then he was urging Ben up, his fingers tugging at the button of his jeans. Ben stood on shaky legs as he felt his body exposed, the hot flesh between his legs meeting cool air.
And then warmth.
Hot and wet and...
At the sight of his erection disappearing into Duke's mouth, Ben nearly came on the spot, all those years of longing making him feel like his skin was too tight. Yet here it all was. Everything he'd wanted. Everything.
He had
to make it last.
Gritting his teeth, Ben managed to pull himself away, his fingertips looking for purchase in the short strands of Duke's hair. Grabbing him by the jaw, he panted out, "Up. Up." Duke rose, smiling, and then Ben had him in his arms. Naked. Hard cocks touching.
Ben swore beneath his breath as he turned, keeping one hand on Duke's hip as he reached for the control on the shower. Waiting just a few seconds for the water to get up to a bearable temperature, Ben pulled the curtain back and then prodded Duke, motioning for him to get in.
After kicking his pants the rest of the way off, Duke complied, stepping beneath the spray. And for a moment, all Ben could do was stare. Slick with water, warm, tan flesh rippling, and that ass. Those arms.
Ben still couldn't believe that this was happening.
Duke broke his reverie, twisting beneath the spray to look at him, his mouth tilting up with a knowing grin. "So you gonna wash this tat or what?"
Letting a low growl build in his throat, Ben stepped into the shower behind him, wrapping his arms around Duke's waist and letting his erection press against his skin. "That and more," he breathed, searching for Duke's ear and sucking on the flesh there, scraping his teeth against the lobe.
Ben made a point of moving carefully and tenderly as he reached for the soap, lathering up his hands before moving toward the marked skin above Duke's hip.
He made sure he washed it thoroughly. But he didn't exactly take his time with it either.
As soon as he was done, Ben reached forward to turn off the water, then returned his hands to Duke's skin, tracing from hip to shoulder and back again, making teasing brushes against his length without ever giving him enough to really enjoy it. He brushed his lips along the side of Duke's throat too, scraping teeth over skin and reveling in the warm sounds of pleasure falling from the other man's mouth.
At first, Duke seemed willing to just stand there and be touched, but before long, he was twisting in Ben's arms, turning to him and capturing Ben's mouth with his. "Bed?"
"My bed."
How many times had Ben dreamed of that? Of tearing down the walls and demolishing the damned guest room? Of having Duke in his arms. In his bed.
They dried off quickly, and Duke grabbed Ben's wrist as if to drag him bodily from the room, but Ben resisted. At Duke's answering growl, he just laughed. "One minute." He stepped over to the medicine cabinet and pulled out the jar of ointment he still had from his last tattoo, then forced Duke to keep still for long enough to rub a thin layer of it over the ink. "There."
There wasn't any stopping them after that. A tumble of limbs and dancing tongues, they stumbled through the house and backwards into Ben's room. Together, they fell onto the bed, first one of them on top and then the other. With more purpose now, Ben felt the hot flesh of Duke's erection in his hand, the soft weight of his balls. When Duke touched him too, his hand drifting even lower toward the tight opening between his cheeks, he groaned, wanting more. He needed more.
As he was pushed to his back again, Ben inched his way up higher on the bed, reaching out blindly while still kissing hard at Duke's lips. Finally, his hand connected with the drawer of his night stand, and when Duke realized what he was doing, he let up slightly, holding more of his weight off of Ben's body and directing his mouth downward. Ben's hand connected with the bottle he was looking for, and he grasped it, then passed it to Duke with a pleading look in his eye.
Duke took it and continued his downward path. This time, when Ben felt that hot breath on his cock, he gave in, and a minute later, feeling slick fingers push into him, he let his legs fall open, begging quietly in a low voice. He begged Duke to touch him and to take him. To fuck him and to make love to him.
When his body was fully open, Ben intensified his pleas, and before long, he felt cold air on his cock. He looked up to find Duke staring at him, blue eyes burning. Slowly, Duke pulled his fingers away, and then he crawled up Ben's torso, holding himself up above his body.
Their cocks brushed, and Ben's breath caught. "Please."
Duke reached over to the side of the bed, grabbing a couple of tissues to wipe his hand and then plucking a packet from the nightstand drawer. He tore the wrapper with his teeth and extracted the rubber before reaching down to roll it over himself.
Spying the bottle of lube on the bed where Duke had discarded it, Ben reached down, opened the cap and then drizzled a little into his palm. Looking at Duke's heavy length, bobbing between his legs, he felt his own cock throb, his body longing to be filled – his soul longing to share this one last thing with the man he'd shared everything else with.
"Hey," Duke said quietly, touching Ben's jaw. "You all right?"
"So much more than alright." With that, Ben reached down and wrapped his hand around the sheathed length of Duke's cock, slicking it.
Then there was nothing to do but feel. Feel the blunt head of it pressing. His body yielding. The stretch and the burn.
"God, Duke," he hissed. His nails dug into Duke's skin, one hand at his hip and the other at his neck.
"You feel so good, baby. So tight. So ... "
Ben watched Duke's head tilt back and felt the last slow slide, the hot press of hips against his ass. He lifted one leg to curl it around Duke's hips, heel digging into his thighs. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than to keep him there. To make this moment last.
But then Duke was moving, the steady push of his cock into Ben's body making nerves flare. Already, Ben was reaching for his cock, only to have his hand knocked away.
"Just watch," Duke breathed as he wrapped his hand around him. Ben obeyed happily, but he had to drop his head back after only a few seconds. It was too much – the slick length of Duke's cock pushing in and out of him. The curled fist of his hand pumping. "I can't believe I'm inside you."
Ben groaned. "Me neither." He couldn't say anything else. Reaching for Duke's face, he connected their mouths, but that was all he had the energy to do. Thrusting against each other, their bodies were strung taut, muscles straining.
"Fuck. I'm gonna – "
"Yes," Ben exhaled. He felt one more hard push into his body. A second.
And then all he could feel was the sensation of his balls rising, his orgasm exploding in a hot rush, come pulsing across his abdomen, and Duke's cock. Duke's mouth.
Duke.
Duke.
Duke.
They both collapsed down into the mattress in a sweaty heap. Ben twined his arms around the naked body atop his, feeling the warm rush of breath against his neck. And he never wanted to let go.
Too soon, Duke was pulling back to press a soft kiss against his lips. Ben loosened his arms with reluctance, trying to keep the frown from his face as he watched Duke pad across the room. He returned a minute later without the condom, a washcloth in his hand, and Ben lay still as he let his friend wash the evidence of what they'd done from his body.
When Duke began to pull away again, Ben stopped him, holding onto his wrist and taking the cloth from his hand. In a practiced move, he tossed it at the hamper in the corner and then tried to tug Duke to lie back down with him. "Stay?" he asked, suddenly vulnerable, nervous. "Don't go."
"I won't," Duke promised, leaning down to kiss him. "But I don't want to sleep in the spare room tonight."
Wrapping his arms around Duke and pulling him close, Ben swore, "Never again. Never, ever again."
****
Ben opened his eyes to a dim wash of light. It took him a moment to realize that the bed was cold and that he was curled around nothing but a pillow. It took a little longer to remember why that was wrong.
He sat up with a start and looked around, searching for anything to prove that what had happened the night before had been real. His heart was just starting to sink when he spied the blue sheet of paper on the other pillow. The pillow that smelled like Duke.
Ben –
Had to get to work early and didn't want to wake you. Meet me at Madigan's tonight?
D
Still, he folded it carefully and, after retrieving it from the pile of clothes still sitting on the floor in his bathroom, he placed the slip of paper in his wallet. There was a small pocket of doubt in his chest, something black and painful.
But there was nothing he could do except wait.
All day at the office, his mind kept darting back to flashes from the night before. The feeling of Duke's mouth on his. The taste of him. What it felt like to come with their bodies entwined. As the day wore on, though, those thoughts were interspersed with other things. Memories of all the years they'd spent as friends and of all the times he'd thought that maybe...
He told himself that fucking your best friend was more than 'maybe.' But in the end, he still didn't know.
A series of meetings conspired to keep him at work far later than he'd planned, and by the time Ben finally pulled into Madigan's, it was almost seven. His body tightly wound with nerves and fear, he had to keep himself from running to the door.
But then he stepped inside and stopped short. There, just a few feet in front of him, was the head of short-cropped black hair and those muscled shoulders. The lines of ink he'd felt beneath his fingertips. The ones he'd tasted.
Ben didn't bother to look at Mike as he strode across the room. Singularly focused, he pulled out the barstool and settled onto it, feeling simultaneously like a man who'd won the lottery and one who was about to be led to his hanging. Duke turned to look at him, and Ben's heart nearly cracked open.
He wanted to touch him. To kiss him and to love him.
And he wanted it for always.
A shiver swept up his spine when Duke made no motion toward him, just smiling and waving at Mike to bring another couple beers. "So how was your day?"
Ben's mouth hung open, and he had to force it to work. "My day?"
"Well, I know how your night was," Duke said, smirking.
To hear it referred to so flippantly made Ben feel cold.
Fortunately, Mike chose that moment to plunk down his beer in front of him, and Ben grabbed it quickly, swallowing down a few long pulls to stall. The doubt ballooned inside his chest, pushing out everything else.
Don't Read in the Closet volume one Page 34