“What’s wrong with you? I thought you wanted to fuck me,” I chastised. “I feel like now you won’t even look at me.”
“I was better in the dream,” he said, blowing out a long breath. “I almost came like ten times just now. It’s only our second time and I was trying to last longer than fucking fifteen seconds, Ben. In the dream, I lasted, like, a really long time. Now, you’re practically doing gymnastics and bending your back and twisting your cock and moaning and pulling my nipples… for fuck’s sake… I’m embarrassing myself!”
I laughed aloud. “That’s what’s going on? I thought I wasn’t doing it for you. I thought you were bored!”
“Jesus, no!” he shouted. “I’m trying not to split this condom in two with a fucking come-explosion. I’ve never had this happen. Maybe I need like a cock ring or something. I don’t know… something to slow it down.”
I moved my hips in a slow circle. “Maybe I don’t want you to slow it down. Maybe I want you to come. Maybe I want to feel you fill that condom inside of me. And maybe someday we won’t even have to use those things and I can feel all of you… inside of me.” I bucked harder, locking my eyes on his. “You want that? You want to come inside of me?”
“Jesus, Ben,” Jesse choked. “Yeah.”
I stroked my own dick, knowing I was close, hoping we could finish at the same time. I wanted to feel him—that wasn’t a lie—I wished I could feel Jesse bare, with nothing between us. I’d never thought much about that before with anyone. I’d never cared before. I’d never loved anyone before.
Jesse pumped his hips harder inside of me—bump, bump, bump—until I was writhing, twisting, screaming, and coming… hot jets all over Jesse’s stomach, clinging to the short hair around his navel and abdominals. He followed within seconds, his hands gripping my waist as his hips went slack, the feel of his pulsing cock igniting inside of me.
Yeah, it was short. But no way could it have been any better.
No. Fucking. Way.
Twenty.
Jesse
I was careful around Ben that morning, knowing that even though it had started out great, it was easy for him to unravel with a quickness. So, I’d planned for it, pulling up his Netflix account on Roku and going through his recently watched items to make a few selections of my own.
Making a big pot of coffee and a batch of easy biscuit donuts in a stock pot I’d found in one of his cabinets, I collected him and tugged him onto the sofa beside me.
“What are we doing?” Ben groaned. “I have a million things to do.”
“No you don’t. The viewing isn’t until tomorrow and your mom said she needed a little time this morning because she was doing a project, so come on. We’re having a movie marathon.”
Ben picked at his cuticles. “I don’t want to watch a movie.”
“Yes you do,” I said with a sigh. “Here’s what I picked. Sweet Home Alabama. 13 Going on 30. Clueless. Can’t Buy Me Love. Ben, just stop me if there’s anything worth watching.”
He slumped down into my chest. “Fine. Sweet Home Alabama,” he mumbled.
“You gonna complain the whole time?” I poked him in the side.
“No.” He tugged at a blanket, covering his pale thighs. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Good, because we’re gonna watch one of yours and then we’re gonna watch one of mine.”
Ben popped his head up at that. “What is it? Some Neanderthal movie about boxing or something?”
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Why would I want to watch a movie about boxing? When have I ever said that I’m interested in boxing?”
“So what is it?”
“You’ll see.”
Ben was quiet during the first movie, cocooned in tightly against me, pressing kisses against my neck and arms—not chattering like I’d become accustomed to. But this was nice; his body pressed so close to mine, eating donuts and sipping coffee. Plus, the movie wasn’t half bad either—definitely an improvement over the JLo one, I’d thought—though I’d never share that with him.
And I could tell he was curious about my choice as well, looking up at me as the credits rolled, a look of wonder in his blue gaze.
“Die Hard?” he asked. “Captain America? Wait, no. The Matrix? Fast and the Furious?”
I held the remote in my hand. “Are you done?”
“Are you going to answer me?”
I hit my selection and waited for the film to load as Ben bolted up in my lap.
“E.T.?” he asked quizzically.
Ignoring him, I took a long drink of my coffee and stared at the television. God, could this take any fucking longer? Besides, I had nothing to be embarrassed about. We had just watched some film about a fashion designer and some guy who made glass and—
“Your movie is E.T.?” he asked again.
I finally looked over and met his puzzled gaze. “Yes, Ben, my movie is E.T. Is that alright?”
He smiled once and lowered his head back to my lap. “Geesh, yeah. Okay.”
With about seven minutes left in the film, as Elliott and E.T. stood in front of each other in that field, I held an inconsolable Ben as the tears fell from his eyes and deep shudders wracked through his entire body.
“Baby,” I whispered. “It’s just a movie.”
“Why on earth did you make me watch that?” he ground out.
I let out a soft chuckle and held him tighter. “It’s not like you didn’t know how it ended. I mean—”
Ben spun on me, his eyes red and filled with emotion. “What? I’ve never seen that movie! How would I know how it ended? Jesus Christ, Jesse. What’s next? Old Yeller? Of Mice and Men?”
Wiping a tear from his eye, I asked, “Have you seriously never seen E.T.?”
He shook his head. “No. I wanted to, but my mom… she said I wouldn’t like it. She told me it was like Star Wars and I definitely didn’t like that.”
“Wait,” I said, shaking my own head. “You didn’t like Star Wars? What kid doesn’t like Star Wars?”
Ben looked up at me and cocked an eyebrow.
“Fine,” I returned with a sigh. “But why would she tell you that E.T. was like Star Wars? That’s so strange.”
Ben smiled for a moment and wiped away another tear. “I know why now. She wanted to protect me. It’s stupid, but we rarely watched movies that she knew would upset me. If she knew how something ended, even if it was sort of an inevitable one, you know?” He gestured toward the television. “She just put on something else. We’d watch Saved by the Bell or Rugrats and then, when I got older, it was Dawson’s Creek or Felicity. She babied me, you know? Hid me away from anything normal that might send me over the edge.” He let out a short, tired laugh. “I think she was always afraid that there was something really wrong with me. That I couldn’t handle the real world. And when I said that I wanted to work in closed-captioning, you know, I think she was really happy. That way, I’d stay at home. I wouldn’t have to be in a real-life setting where there would be people to deal with and situations that might—”
“Ben.”
I stopped him. I had to stop him. He wasn’t broken and he had to know that. I pressed my hands to his shoulders and forced him to look up at me. When he did, his eyes were wet and filled with so much pain that it made me wince. Maybe he was broken.
“I don’t w-want to do this alone,” he choked out. “Maybe I’m just tired of being so alone.”
“You don’t have to be.” My words were barely above a whisper, but he’d heard them. Ben nodded at me and gave me a shaky smile. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
“What about this one?”
Ben held up yet another drab gray suit for my approval, this being at least the tenth one I’d nixed.
“I don’t just see why you just don’t—”
“Jesse,” Ben snapped. “I can’t put on something I’d wear to some party.”
“Why not?”
He tossed his hands up. “Because it’s not a party! It’s
a viewing!”
“Yeah,” I returned. “For your Oma. The woman whose very first question to me was whether or not I liked RuPaul’s Drag Race. I don’t think that she is going to care whether or not you be yourself at her last party. So maybe you should look at it in a different way, Ben. Look at it from her perspective. You want to show up at this thing looking like a man she doesn’t know? Or do you want to be the boy she’s always known? The one who was never afraid to be who he was, even if that meant that not everyone would understand? Because guess what? She understood! She got it, Ben.”
I held up a fitted light pink suit with a single-button jacket, matching vest, and nearly painted-on ankle length pants.
“What the literal fuck, Jesse? You want me to wear that?” he spat.
“It would look really good on you. Black tie… white shirt… try it on?”
Ben looked at the suit appraisingly in my hands. “It would look better with a shirt in the same color, just a shade lighter. White washes me out.”
I grinned and shoved it into his hands. “You’re lucky you’re skinny. Not a lot of guys could pull this one off.”
He groaned. “I’m not lucky I’m skinny. Everyone says that. ‘You’re so lucky. You’re so lucky.’ It’s kind of a curse being thin, you know. You can’t find fucking twenty-seven inch pants to save your life. And forget finding a jacket. I always look like I’m wearing my dad’s clothes every time I try something on.”
“Well,” I said, pointing at the suit again, “this time you’re in luck. It’s your size. And it’s on sale because no one wears that size.”
“Lucky me,” he muttered under his breath. “Just what I need. A pink suit. I can’t buy this, you know. I mean, even if it does fit, everyone in that whole place will be looking at me.”
“Let ‘em look.”
“Jesus, Jess.” He ran a hand through his sun-streaked hair. “My parents—”
“Know who you are. Your dad told me exactly who you are. How you stood up for yourself in school. When the other kids were dicks to you and how you never let it stop you from being yourself. How your Oma was a huge part of that. Try on the fucking suit, Ben.”
He growled at me and grabbed an even lighter pink dress shirt from a nearby table before turning toward the fitting room, pivoting on his heel once to stick that long pink tongue out before blowing a raspberry. “Go find me a black tie. Something fucking classy, too. Alexander McQueen. If you make me wear this, you’re gonna buy it.”
He was lucky we were in the store. Otherwise, I would have stripped him out of that thing and smacked his bare ass until he came right there in that dressing room. It was a near-perfect fit, even with him fidgeting and tugging at the crotch of the pants every five seconds, smoothing his hands over the front of them and staring at his reflection in the mirror.
“I don’t know,” he complained. “It just seems like a bit… much.”
“You look amazing.” I swallowed thickly and gazed at his elongated neck as he stretched, turning to get a side view. “Truly beautiful. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”
Ben’s cheeks flushed red, but a smile quickly appeared in that mirror, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Shut up,” he whispered softly. “And I was teasing about you buying it.”
“I wasn’t. And I mean it. You’re beautiful.” I pressed my chest to his back and wrapped my hands around his slender waist, looking at our reflection in the glass. “I love you.”
He swallowed and smiled again, lifting a soft hand behind to my bearded cheek. “I love you too.”
“Do you like it?” I asked, gesturing to the suit.
Ben nodded once. “I should hate it, but I don’t.” He then added quietly, “She would love it.”
“Then let’s buy it. For her.”
I’d planned one last stop for the day, knowing that the following morning would be a grueling one for Ben. I wanted him to relax. This day was for him and I’d already kinda-sorta fucked it up with the E.T. thing so I needed to cap it off right, packing a quick backpack full of supplies and ordering a change of clothes.
Ben wore the barely-there white swim trunks I loved and a striped tank top, showcasing his slightly pink shoulders that never seemed to turn tan, no matter how much time he’d spent in the sun.
We held hands on the short walk down to the public beach, Ben letting go every once in a while to bend down and pick up a random shell or two to drop into his pocket. But, he smiled with each and every one, even humming a bit every now and then.
He’d smiled a lot that day and I’d begun to realize that I didn’t want to live another day without those moments. I didn’t want to wake up without Ben.
“You know,” Ben said cheerfully as we neared the water, “this is the first time we’ve been down here together. I’ve been here a million times with my Oma and Grandma Nancy and even a few times since I moved here, but we’ve never been down here together.” He smiled over at me. “That’s weird. I mean, you said that you loved it here. That you come down here a lot, but we’ve never come together. I guess we need to change that.”
“Ben—”
“Don’t,” he said softly, staring out at the ocean. “Whatever it is that you’re going to say, just don’t. It’s been such a nice day and I just want to remember this. All of this, you know… for as long as it lasts.”
I turned toward him in confusion. “What?”
“I know I’m more than you signed up for. But this day… it’s been perfect and—”
Immediately, I turned his head, pressing a long kiss to his lips. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that I’ve never been happier in my entire life. That I’ve been waiting for you and that it’s been worth the wait.”
“I—”
“Shut up, Ben. Okay, I don’t mean it like shut up shut up, but just don’t interrupt me right this second, alright?”
He nodded and looked down at his feet for a moment before looking back up.
“Okay,” I continued. “You know I’m terrible at this stuff, so you have to give me a second. It’s just that… God… okay. Well, I don’t want to go home anymore. Okay, what I mean is that I feel like you are my home. Just that, I don’t know… waking up with you seems better than being on my own and… I mean, I did that before and it was okay, but I just didn’t know any different before and, well, shit. I just never wanted to sleep anywhere else before really and, I mean… I mean, it’s not the first time I’ve ever slept anywhere before, but I always wanted to go home and now I don’t. It doesn’t feel right there and I just… it’s just that I want to be with you all of the time and… shit, will you say something?”
Ben stared at me, his mouth open. “You told me to shut up though, so… I wasn’t sure when I was supposed to jump in.”
“Now’s a good time,” I breathed out.
“But… I’m not really sure what the fuck you’re saying. Are you saying that… you want to… live together?”
I let out a long sigh. “Yes.”
“Jesus, Jess. We… we can’t. We’ve only—”
“Ben, do you want me to go home?”
“No,” he stammered out quickly. “I mean, do you want to go home?”
“No. Do you see what I mean?”
He scratched his head. “Um… what are we talking about? Like right now or like—”
“When I leave, do you think about the next time we’ll be together?” I asked.
Ben nodded his head. “Yeah. Constantly.”
“Okay, so… if you’re thinking that and I’m thinking that, why doesn’t it make sense that we just, you know, like, do that?”
“Oh my God,” he spat out. “Are you serious right now? Because everyone would fucking laugh at us for one. And because the idea is ridiculous. I mean, you have your place and I have mine. So… then when I’m being me, you can just go home or whatever.”
“I don’t want to go home when you’re being you,” I countered. “I like when you’re being you.”
>
“No.” He turned toward the water again. “You just say you do, but you don’t even know me. You don’t even know my middle name.”
“It’s Allen.”
“It’s fucking Mitchell, you asshole.”
“There. It’s Fucking Mitchell,” I said with a grin. “Benjamin Fucking Mitchell Watts.”
“Oh my God,” he mumbled. “See? Another reason why we can’t.”
“I don’t have a middle name,” I told him. “So, that will be easy for you to remember.”
“Well, that’s just stupid. Everyone has one.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, that’s because you’re stupid,” Ben groaned.
“Wow. That escalated quickly.” I laughed aloud with Ben joining me a moment later.
“Fine. Okay. You’re not stupid. But the idea of moving in together is. We just can’t.” Ben squeezed an arm around my waist. “But I’m not saying no forever, okay? I just want to wait a little while longer. Just wait until all of this is over.”
I nodded my head. “Can I still sleep over?” I asked, nudging his shoulder.
“Sure. Every night,” he said with a giggle.
“So… basically living together?”
“I guess you can leave a toothbrush there. And I’ll even give you a drawer. Just like in the movies.”
I stared out at the vast blue water and squeezed him closer. “Just like in the movies.”
Twenty-One.
Ben
I was nervous that morning. Even though I knew Oma would approve, it felt different the following day without the courage behind Jesse’s words in that dressing room—pulling on those fitted pink pants was just different somehow in the morning light. All of the confidence was gone, replaced by a whimpering boy in that mirror, raking through my too-feminine hair. Tugging at my too-tight pants. Everything was wrong… everything was—
Benji and the Wireman Page 18