Point Pleasant

by Wood, Jen Archer

  The more Ben considered their situation, the more he understood why Nicholas seemed so uneasy with the general idea of Ben’s previous partners. Nicholas was not so much jealous of them as he was mournful of the idea that if he had reacted differently to Ben’s declaration, Ben might never have been with anyone else, and Nicholas himself might never have gone to dives in Putnam County for motel quickies and lessons in the art of self-loathing. He might have been with Ben for the last thirteen years, happy and free of a lingering despair that clung to him like stale tobacco smoke on an old leather chair.

  Ben had his own problems, of course. He bounced in between Ben Wisehart and Preston James so often that sometimes he had no idea who was at the core. Ben Wisehart was cocky, but that cockiness was an elaborate ruse to conceal the fact that he had very little self worth. And Preston James, well, isn’t he just the bee’s knees. The cool, clever horror writer who used fear as the conduit for his musings on life and death and everything in between; the asshole with the suit and queue of fans who eased his other personality’s general sense of personal repugnance.

  Ben and Nicholas were both fucked up—each in their own ways—but there was little to be done about thirteen years of shitty relationships and desperate sexual encounters except to try to forget them. Together.

  As Nicholas exited the office and returned to the Malibu, Ben wondered if they could fuck the lingering sadness out of each other. He got out and grabbed their bags from the trunk. Nicholas dangled a room key from his fingers when he approached.

  “You’ll love this,” he said as he took one of the bags from Ben. “Room thirteen.”

  “Appropriate,” Ben said with a wry smile.

  A cloud of moths fluttered around the light outside the door, beating their wings against the burning bulb. Nicholas unlocked the door and held it open for Ben. The room was spotless and large enough for the night. It smelled of a recent cleaning—all lemon-fresh but unobtrusive. The large bed was made with its covers tucked tight underneath the mattress.

  “Works for me,” Ben said.

  Nicholas nodded and tossed his bag on the table by the window after he secured the door.

  Ben dropped his bag at the foot of the bed. Nicholas observed him with a curious expression. Ben stepped forward and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips danced for dominance, but Ben was insistent, and Nicholas relented. They kicked off their shoes, jeans, and boxers in a desperate jumble of limbs and fabric before they peeled one another’s shirts from their bodies.

  Nicholas pulled Ben close, but Ben took hold of Nicholas’ shoulders and pushed him backwards so that he fell onto the bed.

  “You’re eager,” Nicholas said when Ben crawled over him.

  Ben silenced Nicholas with another kiss. He leaned back to speak, though his lips were still close enough to move against Nicholas’. “I’m motivated.”

  “Ben,” Nicholas murmured when Ben’s palm slid across Nicholas’ skin to follow the line of dark hair that led from his navel.

  “Nic,” Ben whispered, trailing his lips over the coarse stubble that covered Nicholas’ jaw. He latched his teeth onto the delicate skin of Nicholas’ neck, just under his left ear, and gently bit down.

  Nicholas sighed, and his hips jerked upward. His hardening cock prodded at Ben’s thigh. Ben sucked again and pursed his lips to blow warm air over the start of a small bruise. Nicholas tangled his fingers in Ben’s hair.

  Ben took Nicholas’ hand in his and kissed the curve of his wrist before he placed it on the pillow by Nicholas’ head. “Just lie back. It’s me here, now.”

  A needy, anxious moan rose from Nicholas’ throat when Ben swiped his tongue over Nicholas’ right nipple. He traced the outline of it with the tip of his tongue. Nicholas drew in a deep breath, which caused his ribcage to jut out and the muscles of his abdomen to tremble. Ben closed his lips and swirled his tongue over the hardened point.

  Nicholas dug his fingers into the bedspread while Ben showered the other nub with the same gentle attention.

  Ben worked his way down Nicholas’ firm torso, licking and nipping at the skin around his navel as he went. Nicholas held his breath. His heavy cock bobbed and twitched prominently as it rested against his stomach. Ben slipped off the bed, kneeled, and settled between Nicholas’ thighs.

  His fingertips danced along the sharp outlines of Nicholas’ hipbones. They rose imperceptibly as Ben followed the sharp V-formation of Nicholas’ build with his lips.

  “Watch, Nic,” Ben whispered, taking hold of Nicholas’ hard cock. “I want you to watch.”

  A red flush appeared on Nicholas’ cheeks as Ben stroked from base to tip with slow deliberation.

  Ben maintained eye contact and held the length upright. He whirled his tongue around its head, moving clockwise first, then counterclockwise. Nicholas gave a gentle shove upward, and Ben licked from the root to the tip, repeating the action several times until the length glistened with his spit.

  Nicholas had not broken their gaze, but his chest rose and fell with hard, sharp intakes of breath each time Ben’s tongue circled the head of his cock—especially the underside. Ben paid special attention to the area when he noticed its obvious sensitivity, and he smirked at the strangled groan that escaped from Nicholas’ throat.

  His fingers closed around the base of Nicholas’ shaft and moved up and down in a dawdling, languid rhythm while he pressed a firm kiss to the tip and let out a warm, heavy sigh against the flesh.

  Nicholas faltered finally, and his dark eyelashes threatened to shut when he seemed to sense what would come next.

  “Watch,” Ben reminded.

  “Fuck,” Nicholas whispered, and his eyes were wide open once more.

  Ben took the head into his mouth. He sucked hard and swirled his tongue in a circular pattern to dwell on the newly discovered sensitive area as his lips engulfed more and more of the hard length.

  Nicholas leaned up on his elbows. His breathing was frantic as he braced a hand to the back of Ben’s head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Ben worked his way down until he managed to swallow the entire length of Nicholas’ shaft in one slow, measured movement. Nicholas fingers splayed out through Ben’s hair, and he let out a moan. His other hand gripped at the bedspread beneath him so fiercely that Ben thought he might tear the fabric.

  Ben hummed, and the vibrations of the sound rumbled around the cock between his lips. He tightened the inner muscles of his mouth to increase the gentle suction.

  “Please,” Nicholas chanted like a litany. “Please, oh fuck, Ben. Your mouth. Can I—”

  Ben sucked in response, and he reached up to squeeze at Nicholas’ thigh in confirmation.

  With his hand still holding onto the back of Ben’s head, Nicholas moved his hips. The pace was slow and easy. Ben flicked his tongue at the end of the length when it was withdrawn, giving him a moment to take a quick breath before Nicholas pushed forward again.

  Somehow, Nicholas ended up on his feet. He stood with his cock buried down Ben’s relaxed, welcoming throat and thrust with an increasing tempo. He watched, apparently transfixed, as his spit-slicked cock slipped in and out of Ben’s lips. The muscles of his ass tensed and tightened under Ben’s hands. Ben dug his fingernails into the skin and moaned.

  “Ben, I can’t—”

  Nicholas gave a sharp thrust of his hips, and his body went straight and rigid. His fingers tightened in Ben’s hair to the point of yanking. A salty, bitter fluid filled Ben’s throat, and he struggled to swallow it all, though he felt some dribble down his chin as Nicholas’ hips convulsed. He gripped Nicholas tighter to urge his lover to still his movements.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Nicholas cried out, his head thrown askew in ecstasy.

  Ben inhaled through his nose and gently pushed at the delicate arch of the hipbones before him to ease Nicholas’ length out of his lips. He had a few seconds to take a deep lungful of air before Nicholas hauled him to his feet and pulled him into a thorough kiss. Nicholas darted his ton
gue into Ben’s mouth and seemed careless of the fact that he could probably taste himself.

  Graceless and unbalanced, they fell together onto the bed. Nicholas shuddered when Ben brushed tender fingertips over the head of his softening cock.

  “Fuck,” he whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Ben smiled as he sucked at the bruise on Nicholas’ neck.

  I did that, he thought.

  Nicholas lay panting and flushed. Vulnerable little grunts and moans still escaped his lips as he descended from his high.

  I did that too.

  Nicholas pressed his index finger to Ben’s closed lips. Ben opened them and sucked the finger in and swirled his tongue around its tip just as he had done with Nicholas’ cock.

  “Fuck,” Nicholas repeated.

  Note to self, Ben thought. Do that often. He stretched out on his back on the bed and smiled to himself. He listened to the sound of Nicholas’ stunted breathing until it regulated.

  The mattress shifted when Nicholas sat upright. He pulled Ben further up the bed so that his head was on a pillow. “Stay there,” Nicholas said, his voice low and commanding.

  “What happened to ‘please?’” Ben asked, but he did not move from the position.

  Nicholas shot Ben a wry smirk and stood. He walked to the table where he had dropped his bag.

  Ben took the moment to appreciate Nicholas’ round, toned ass and the reddened fingernail scratches that covered his skin. Nicholas held a bottle of lube when he turned.

  Always be prepared, Ben thought with amusement.

  Nicholas resumed his place at Ben’s side and slipped his left arm underneath Ben’s head before he leaned down for another kiss. His tongue slid across Ben’s gums, and Ben’s skin prickled.

  “Sheriff,” Ben whispered. “What are you planning?”

  “I’m planning on making you scream,” Nicholas said. “And moan, and writhe, and beg.”

  “Beg for what?” Ben asked.

  Nicholas’ teeth caught Ben’s lower lip, and he bit down with care. “Me.”

  Before Ben could respond, Nicholas’ slick, lubed fingers clasped at Ben’s thighs to spread them apart. Nicholas had already coated his fingers with the slippery liquid while Ben had been distracted by the kiss. Ben felt the first gentle prod of a finger slip around his opening while the sheriff cradled him in one arm.

  Ben gasped. Nicholas brushed the tip of his tongue out over Ben’s mouth to trace his top lip. Simultaneously, Nicholas slipped the finger inside, just barely, and Ben pitched upward. Nicholas adjusted his position and draped one of his legs over Ben’s to keep him in place.

  “No,” Nicholas said. “You don’t get to move. Not yet, my love,” he said. As he whispered the term of endearment into Ben’s ear, Ben wanted to cry with joy. “You get to lie here until I make you come. From only this.” He accentuated the point by swirling the tip of his index finger.

  Ben whimpered when Nicholas’ digit slid all the way inside. One finger became two, and two soon became three, each added at an agonizing pace that left Ben writhing.

  “Please, move.”

  Nicholas licked across Ben’s lower lip. His fingers slid in and out with ease after the drawn out preparation. “Like this?”

  “Yes, yes, faster,” Ben insisted, and his hips climbed upwards with each new thrust.

  He had no idea how long it lasted; the pace of the digits against his prostate was maddening. His hard cock bounced with every shudder of his body and smeared a puddle of pre-come across his abdomen.

  “You love this, don’t you?” Nicholas said. “You love being filled up.”

  As if to emphasize the point, Nicholas snaked the fingers of the hand that had been tucked under Ben’s head around and rubbed the middle one to Ben’s lips. Ben drew the fingertip into his mouth without hesitation.

  “Fuck,” Nicholas said. “The things I want to do to your mouth.”

  Ben bit at the digit between his teeth in response. Nicholas’ other set of fingers drove in at a right angle to place deliberate pressure on Ben’s already over-stimulated prostate.

  Nicholas sealed their lips together, though he did not remove his finger. Ben cried out as his neglected cock twitched.

  “Nic, please. Fuck.” Ben’s release loomed like the long shadows cast by a high mountain at midday, and he wanted nothing more than to burrow himself in the comfort of its shade.

  Nicholas held Ben tighter, kissed him harder, and finger-fucked him faster.

  Warmth, light, panic, and a heavy, crushing weight tore through Ben like a cyclone. His hips shot up, frozen in mid-air, and his thighs trembled. The forceful shaking spread upwards to his stomach and shoulders, which heaved and jerked with violence as he crested high.

  Ben let out a shout, and his entire body quaked. His untouched cock spewed thick, sticky come while he bit down on the finger in his mouth.

  Nicholas receded, and Ben closed his eyes in mourning when the arm disappeared from beneath his neck and the fingers slipped from his ass.

  The lubed, condom-covered head of Nicholas’ cock—hard again, fuck me—prodded Ben’s left thigh. Nicholas pulled Ben’s hips up so that Ben was tilted at an angle and propped atop Nicholas’ knees. He took hold of his shaft and entered Ben in one long, smooth slide.

  Ben arched off the bed and hooked his legs around Nicholas’ waist.

  “Kiss me,” he whispered. “Kiss me, please.”

  Nicholas complied, sinking deeper as he bent down. His hardness shifted, and Ben felt like the world had spun off its axis when Nicholas’ cock butted his prostate. He cupped Nicholas’ face close to his own as their hips rolled and yawed in unhurried, mirrored movements.

  “You feel so good,” Ben murmured into Nicholas’ mouth.

  “I love you,” Nicholas said, and he accented his words with a gentle thrust.

  His skin glistened with perspiration, and Ben thrashed with every push and pull of his lover’s hips. The muscles of Nicholas’ abdomen quivered prominently each time he buried himself completely inside of Ben.

  Ben heaved himself upright. Nicholas helped him to adjust the position until he sat on Nicholas’ lap with his arms draped around Nicholas’ neck.

  “I love you,” Ben whispered, keeping still for a moment to drink in the possessive clutch of Nicholas’ hands on his ass. He clenched his muscles around Nicholas’ cock and smiled at the way the other man’s eyes fell shut in response.

  Ben braced his hands on Nicholas’ shoulders and pulled himself up in a slow, measured slide. He dropped down again, repeating the action until they rocked in sync.

  Unfettered bliss danced across Nicholas’ features. He nuzzled his nose against the arrowhead around Ben’s neck, and Ben forgot about the cheap motel room, about Boston, and about Point Pleasant.

  In those sweat-soaked, moan-inducing moments, the only thought in his head was that this was home. Nic is home.

  Tiny beads of dampness dripped from Nicholas’ forehead. He drove himself upward, digging his fingertips into Ben’s flesh with each rut of their hips.

  “Nic,” Ben whispered. “I need you.”

  Nicholas’ pupils had dilated extensively, and the blue of his irises was almost imperceptible. He shouted a curse, pushed Ben onto his back once more, and jerked forward to shove himself as far into Ben as he could manage.

  He came with a helpless yell and convulsed. He crashed atop Ben, sprawling out in an inelegant heap, but he kept his hands planted over Ben’s ass and continued to give short, tender thrusts forward even after his orgasm subsided.

  The smell of their shared sweat and the scent of their sex clung to the air. They remained interlocked until Nicholas’ breathing regulated. Ben slid his palms across Nicholas’ slick back in soothing circles, noting the way Nicholas’ shoulders shivered in response.

  When Nicholas finally withdrew, Ben did not feel empty. Nicholas covered Ben like a blanket. He buried his face into the crook of Ben’s neck and hummed with contentment.

 
; Ben knew that they should move, shower, and go to sleep to prepare for the rest of the drive to Boston, but he was too enthralled by the way Nicholas’ chest rose and fell in time with his own.

  Enfolded in the arms of his childhood best friend in a motel room in the middle of nowhere—halfway between the town he had grown up in and the city he had lived in for most of his adult life—Ben understood Raziel’s parting words.

  Be joyful now, Ben. You are home.

  Illustration, Chapter Five. “Biston betularia.”

  Acknowledgments

  I am so grateful for the obscene amount of support I received for this story. As some readers might already know, Point Pleasant began its life as a humble piece of AU fanfiction. If it was not for the amount of love and encouragement from the beautiful people who read the original story, I might never have pushed Point Pleasant to stand on its own feet. Thank you, all of you.

  Thank you to Svetlana for lending your considerable talents to this project. You captured the world beautifully, and I am honored to share the title page of this book with you.

  Thank you to Pinar for cradling this world in your hands like it’s something precious and breakable. I am forever grateful for your enthusiasm.

  Thank you to Cassia for being observant, analytical, and an endless source of inspiration and knowledge. You were an absolute rock during the editing process, and I’m indebted to your wisdom and insight.

  Thank you to Steph and Fer for your boosts during the initial writing process. You were wonderful sounding boards and editors. Thank you to Leah for being there from the start.

  Thank you to my parents, as always, for your boundless support for all the crazy roads I tend to traverse.

  Thank you to Steven for putting up with my late nights, my usurping the computer, and my drinking all the coffee. Sorry about that. You are lovely, and I adore you.

  About the Author

  Jen Archer Wood is an artisanal publisher. She makes great pancakes too. After earning a Masters and a research degree in European art history, she put a ring on her lifelong love affair with the horror genre and wrote her first novel, Point Pleasant.