Point Pleasant

by Wood, Jen Archer

  Nicholas sucked again, and his tongue licked Ben’s slit in a tease.

  Ben shuddered forward and clutched at Nicholas’ shoulders. He watched as the mouth that had occupied so many of his adolescent fantasies enveloped him, and a surge of emotion gathered like a storm in the back of his throat. His teenaged self’s imagination had nothing on the reality of the wet heat of Nicholas’ mouth.

  With a gentle pop, Nicholas pulled away. His blue irises were an unusual shade of navy as he perched on his heels and continued to stroke Ben with his hand while he rose to his feet.

  Ben drew Nicholas into a kiss. He could detect the salty taste of his own pre-come on the other man’s lips. Nicholas angled himself against Ben, and the denim of his jeans rubbed the sensitive head of Ben’s well-attended cock.

  Ben fumbled at the latch of Nicholas’ belt. He yanked at Nicholas’ jeans and boxers until Nicholas stood naked.

  Nicholas kicked away the discarded pile of clothing at their feet and pulled Ben toward him so that their cocks brushed. Ben pushed him backwards so that he fell onto the bed with his legs hanging off the edge. Nicholas took Ben by the shoulders and urged him down. Their bodies slid until aligned, and Nicholas let out a gasp when his cock glided across Ben’s lower abdomen.

  “Fuck,” Nicholas whispered, and he clapped his right hand to Ben’s ass to haul him closer, trapping their cocks between their bodies.

  Ben threw his head back at the pressure. His hips rocked forward into Nicholas’, whose hand squeezed tight as he rolled upward into the friction of their forms.

  The scent of Nicholas’ cologne flooded Ben’s senses as he dove forward and trailed hungry kisses over the other man’s bare shoulders. He continued downward, meaning to travel the full length of Nicholas’ torso, but the hands on his shoulder and ass tightened to still his progress.

  The room spun in a blur when Nicholas rolled them on the bed and settled his body atop of Ben’s. His weight was a curious comfort as he pressed Ben into the mattress and sealed their lips once more.

  Nicholas’ cock leaked a wet streak of pre-come against Ben’s thigh. Overcome by the need to know how it felt to hold, Ben snaked a hand between their bodies.

  The sheriff’s cock was thick and heavy, and Ben sighed with satisfaction when Nicholas whimpered at his touch. Nicholas’ entire body tensed when Ben squeezed at the base of the shaft then circled his fingers to slide up its length.

  “Something wrong, Sheriff?” Ben asked, tilting his hips up so that their cocks butted together.

  Nicholas canted forward at the use of his professional title. His body covered Ben’s like a blanket, and he kissed across Ben’s face until he reached Ben’s ear.

  “I’m not inside you,” Nicholas whispered. His eyes held a silent question when he receded a few inches to watch Ben for a reaction.

  Ben shifted with intent and spread his legs open in invitation.

  The look on Nicholas’ face was almost joyful. He took Ben’s cheeks in his hands just as he had done in the kitchen, and their lips met again. Slowly and with purpose, Nicholas seemed to pour a part of himself into Ben, whose heartbeat thrummed with elation.

  They parted, and Nicholas grabbed two pillows. He placed one under Ben’s head and planted a soft kiss over Ben’s brow. Ben lifted his hips to let Nicholas position the pillow beneath his ass to elevate him.

  Nicholas ran a hand down Ben’s left leg before he placed another single, delicate kiss to the curve of his knee. He moved away to rummage through the contents of the bedside drawer.

  The frenzy of the last fifteen minutes dissipated. In its stead, something far deeper took root between them. Ben had spent his late adolescence reveling in the casual brushes of their shoulders and yearning to be the one who held Nicholas Nolan’s hand while they sat in the darkened theater seats of the Marquee. He now lay naked and trembling in the man’s bed, his body taut with expectation.

  Ben’s throat tightened when Nicholas tossed a few condoms onto the bed before he flipped open the cap of a small bottle of lube.

  “Have you done this before?” Ben asked.

  Nicholas offered a slight, apprehensive smile. “With a woman…”

  Ben shifted to spread his legs wider when Nicholas kneeled between them. Nicholas decanted some of the lube into his right hand and then rubbed it together with the left to warm the liquid. His slick left hand wrapped around Ben’s cock, and Ben gasped.

  Another smile flickered across Nicholas’ lips as he kissed Ben’s other knee. The tenderness behind the sheriff’s attentions was startling. He seemed to assess Ben’s every reaction as if to store them away as mental reminders for future use.

  Nicholas’ thumb traced over the head of Ben’s cock to toy with the slit, and Ben’s hips rose off the pillow. He stifled another gasp when Nicholas’ other hand, its fingers slippery with lube, reached further down.

  He stilled over Ben’s length and gripped the base with firm strength as one of his lubed fingertips circled around Ben’s entrance to coat it in lube.

  The pressure increased, and Ben bit down on his lower lip when he was breached. Nicholas regarded Ben with care as the tip of his thumb slid inwards.

  Ben gazed up at the light fixture on the ceiling while he adjusted to the entry, forcing himself to relax. Nicholas’ left hand glided up and down Ben’s shaft while his thumb sank all the way inside.

  “I used to dream about this,” Ben admitted.

  “Me too.”

  Nicholas’ gaze was fixed on Ben’s lower half with the kind of focus Ben imagined the sheriff used when cleaning his Glock. The tip of his thumb swirled in a gentle circular motion, and Ben savored the sensation.

  “More,” Ben said.

  Nicholas nodded. He withdrew, took his lubed index and middle fingers together, and pushed them into Ben’s loosening entrance with the palm of his hand facing upwards. When he gauged Ben’s readiness, he began to thrust. Ben writhed to match Nicholas’ steady rhythm.

  “Fuck,” Nicholas whispered. “I could come just watching you.”

  He licked his lips and maneuvered his fingertips to stroke Ben’s inner walls. The movement was soothing in its gentleness.

  Ben relaxed further, and Nicholas squeezed Ben’s shaft. His fingers danced in time with the action, and Ben bucked when Nicholas’ middle finger brushed his prostate.

  “Fuck! Nic!” Ben called out and widened his legs to leave himself open and exposed.

  Nicholas released his hold over Ben’s cock. He leaned down and took the tip into his mouth. Ben’s thighs trembled as Nicholas sucked on the head while his fingers continued to work inside him.

  “Please,” Ben begged.

  Nicholas seemed transfixed. His cheeks hollowed when he sucked again, and his wrist sped up to propel his digits in and out of Ben at a quick, steady pace. A warm wave of pleasure ebbed through Ben, and he tensed.

  “No, no,” Ben said as he sat up on his elbows and placed his hands on Nicholas’ shoulders to still him. “Please.”

  Nicholas halted his hand and let Ben’s cock pop out of his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

  The raucous rush of blood in Ben’s ears was almost deafening. His heart seemed to be pumping three times harder than normal, and he was distantly aware of the sweat beads on his forehead.

  “I want to come with you inside me.”

  Nicholas subsided, and the subsequent feeling of emptiness when his fingers were removed was unnerving. Nicholas ripped open a condom and rolled it over the glistening head of his cock. With his eyes locked in Ben’s, Nicholas reached for the lube again and coated his condom-covered length with a generous amount of the slippery liquid.

  He wiped the rest of the lube on the bedspread before he settled atop Ben once more. One of his hands cradled Ben’s head while the other reached underneath where it came to rest over the small of Ben’s back. The arrowhead lay flat against Ben’s chest, and Nicholas brushed a kiss over its facade.

  Their bodies aligned, and Nicholas pushed
. He entered Ben for the first time, and the fulfillment of it was better than anything Ben’s adolescent fantasies had ever captured. Something deep inside of him sang with joy as Nicholas waited for Ben to adjust, his body still and patient.

  “Ben,” Nicholas whispered. His body shuddered, and his mouth hung open against Ben’s.

  Ben nodded in silent agreement to a question unasked.

  Nicholas exhaled and guided himself further; the motion was slow but steady. Ben arched and wrapped his legs around Nicholas’ waist, whispering heated words of encouragement until Nicholas’ cock was seated completely inside.

  The blue of Nicholas’ irises was almost completely black from his dilated pupils. His fingers threaded through Ben’s hair, and his shoulder blades tensed under Ben’s hands as the desire to thrust seemed to overwhelm him.

  “Move, Nic,” Ben said, digging his heels into the other man’s ass.

  Relief flooded Nicholas’ gasp. He shifted to bring his knees closer on the bed and gain better traction. The slow retreat of the cock burned Ben’s insides, and he winced, though more for the feeling of loss than the slight sting. Nicholas pressed a firm kiss to Ben’s lips. He edged forward in short, shallow movements until he was buried once more.

  Ben whimpered into Nicholas’ mouth. He gripped one hand over the scar on the sheriff’s shoulder. Nicholas buried his face in the curve of Ben’s neck when he retreated—further this time—and then slid forward with less resistance.

  Ben’s other hand tangled in Nicholas’ hair. He placed a single kiss to the sheriff’s temple when he started to move. Nicholas withdrew and thrust several times with long, languid strokes that made Ben’s toes curl.

  Nicholas straightened and took hold of Ben’s hips. Using his grip as leverage, he canted and recanted with gentle yet insistent flexes of his hips.

  “Ben,” he said when their bodies were flush. “I—”

  For the first time, Ben saw the man who had loved him for the last thirteen years even though Ben had remained unaware of his feelings. The man who had read his first novel and loved it without knowing that Ben wrote that book for him, about him, because of him.

  “I still love you,” Ben whispered suddenly.

  Nicholas exhaled. “You do?”

  “I never stopped.”

  They kissed again, and the slide of their lips spoke all the words that neither had known he could say since that night on the sidewalk in front of Ben’s house so many years ago.

  Euphoria lit Nicholas’ handsome features, and his forehead beaded with sweat. He drove forward; the heave and haul of him sent shockwaves through Ben.

  Ben’s cock bobbed from the force of Nicholas’ thrusts. Ben took hold of it and squeezed from the head to the base, and his fingers glided across the surface with ease because of the lube. He pushed up to match Nicholas’ pace with determination.

  “Harder,” Ben said and continued to stroke his shaft. “Please.”

  Nicholas panted for breath and held Ben’s left leg up at an angle. He shifted, sank deeper, then subsided to bring his cock all the way out. They shared a gasp, and Ben yelled when Nicholas re-sheathed himself with one quick twitch of his hips.

  Ben shoved up and felt Nicholas’ balls slap against his ass. “Yeah, like that,” he said with a groan. “Please, again.”

  The long, slow drag rocketed them both into a chorus of twin moans. Sweat formed on Ben’s forehead as the hot coil of tension in his core unraveled and spiraled downwards.

  “Again, oh fuck, please, again,” Ben cried out. His shoulders shook as he pumped his fist up and down the length of his own cock.

  Nicholas’ hips pounded against Ben’s, and the wet smack of their sweaty skin and their loud, desperate pants for breath filled the bedroom like some base but magnificent orchestra.

  Ben stiffened and his hand stilled. It felt like he was in a faulty elevator on the fiftieth floor of a skyscraper and the suspension cables had snapped. Hot, sticky bursts of white shot from the tip of his cock and splashed against Nicholas’ tanned abdomen. Ben’s body practically levitated off the bed, and he screamed his way through orgasm.

  He fell limp against the mattress and moaned Nicholas’ name. Nicholas seemed to consume every shiver and shudder of Ben’s body in its state of ecstasy.

  The world reeled as Nicholas pulled out and flipped Ben onto his face. Ben was yanked up onto his knees so that his ass was in the air. He clutched the bedspread and bunched its fabric between his fingers when he was re-entered.

  The position afforded Nicholas greater freedom of movement. Ben braced himself. Nicholas gripped Ben’s shoulder and right hip while he shot forward.

  “Ben,” Nicholas moaned.

  Ben glanced over at the mirror by the desk. His breath seized in his chest when he caught sight of Nicholas’ reflection. The sheriff’s head was thrown back in bliss once again.

  “Fuck, I’m close,” Nicholas gritted out through clenched teeth, and he tightened his hold over Ben’s hip hard enough for Ben to anticipate the presence of little fingerprint-shaped bruises.

  “Come, Nic,” Ben urged. “Come inside me.”

  The movement of Nicholas’ hips grew erratic. Ben could see from the sheriff’s reflection that he seemed to be holding his breath. Two, three, then four more thrusts, and Nicholas let out a loud groan as he came while still buried within Ben’s body.

  Ben pushed himself closer against Nicholas’ kneeling form. He rotated his hips to grind himself on Nicholas’ still-hard cock.

  Nicholas’ body shuddered, and he drew Ben close so that Ben’s back rested against his chest. Ben twisted his neck to look over his shoulder, and Nicholas sealed their lips together despite the awkward angle.

  Ben struggled to regain a normal breathing pattern. He rested his hands on Nicholas’ thighs, which were slippery with sweat and lube, but he relished the contact.

  Nicholas huffed a breath into Ben’s ear and shifted as his softening length slipped free. He pressed a series of tender kisses across the nape of Ben’s neck and chuckled, his voice a soft rumble against Ben’s skin.

  “What?” Ben asked. He collapsed inelegantly atop the mattress so that he could regard Nicholas.

  Nicholas nestled at Ben’s side, his body graceless and limp in the aftermath of orgasm. “You really are a screamer.”

  Ben blinked at Nicholas for a long beat and then laughed wholly. His elation seemed to illuminate something long hidden away; it felt like Thanksgiving evening and someone had just flipped the switch on the Rockefeller Christmas tree.

  Nicholas’ relaxed features emanated a range of emotions that Ben never thought he would see directed toward himself.

  “Wow,” Nicholas said after a beat.

  Ben edged closer to Nicholas. He could feel the other man’s steady heartbeat against his cheek.

  “Ben,” Nicholas whispered, and he threaded his fingers into Ben’s hair.

  “Hmm?”

  Nicholas said nothing more. His right hand came to a rest over the sharp slant of Ben’s right hipbone. Sated, Ben closed his eyes.

  When he woke up, the room was dark, and a blanket covered him. The weight of Nicholas’ arm over Ben’s chest was a reassurance in the darkness. Ben peered over at the clock beside the bed and squinted at the red glow of the numbers: 3:33 A.M.

  Nicholas shifted in his sleep, unconsciously tightening his hold. Ben felt a slight ache, but it was a pleasant reminder of their earlier activities.

  The light of the moon shone through the curtains just enough to bathe the room in a soft blue haze. Ben thought of the copy of The Blue Tulip in his father’s desk drawer. One of their last conversations had been about coffee. Bitter as hell and twice as hot. Cold rage settled in Ben’s chest.

  The house was quiet, and Ben focused on the steady, rhythmic inhale and exhale of breath from the man at his side. The sound was like a soothing balm on a skinned knee.

  The alarm clock by the bed crackled as if its radio had been turned on and was stuck bet
ween stations.

  “Hey, Benji, you awake?” Andrew’s voice whispered.

  An outbreak of goosebumps slithered across Ben’s bare arms, and he sat upright.

  “Ben?” Nicholas mumbled.

  Andrew’s voice laughed.

  Nicholas sat up beside Ben and tensed. “What the hell is that?”

  Ben eyed the radio and clenched his jaw.

  “You boys should be asleep,” Andrew’s voice said. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

  Nicholas leapt out of the bed and switched on the light. His eyes darted around the bedroom as if he was certain that the voice he recognized as Andrew Wisehart’s could not possibly be coming out of his digital alarm clock.

  The time ticked over to 3:34.

  “I can sing you a lullaby, Benji. Maybe one your mama used to sing? How about ‘Tangled Up in Blue?’”

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” Ben said.

  The clock radio released another hollow laugh. Nicholas grabbed its power cord and yanked it out of the wall socket. The clock’s illuminated numbers disappeared into the darkness.

  “What the fuck?” Nicholas demanded.

  Ben shook his head.

  “Christ, Ben!” Nicholas exclaimed and pointed at the clock. “That was your dad!”

  “That was not my dad, Nic.”

  An unreadable expression crossed Nicholas’ face. He picked up the clock and strode to the window that looked out over the backyard. After a quick fumble with the lock, he forced the window up and threw the clock outside. There was a distant thump as it hit the ground.

  Nicholas closed and re-locked the window with a heavy click of the latch. His shoulders were squared and tense as he stared out at the dark backyard.

  Ben remained inert on the bed. Nicholas continued to stand by the window, his eyes narrowed and watchful.

  “Ben.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Come over here.”

  Ben clambered out of bed, keenly aware of his own nakedness, and joined Nicholas by the window.

  “What?”

  Nicholas tilted his chin to indicate that Ben should check for himself. Ben peered out into the darkness, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary.