Ballsy

by Sean Ashcroft

  “If the chocolate smells that bad, I’m faking a headache.”

  “After being hit with that smell, I don’t think I’d even need to fake,” Sam responded. Ben heard him uncap the other bottle, but didn’t immediately smell anything.

  That seemed like a good sign.

  “Okay, this one smells… very faint, so I guess we’ll go with it?”

  “Sure,” Ben agreed. Maybe this would be fine. He normally wasn’t big on strangers touching him, but Sam wasn’t a stranger. Besides, a neck massage sounded good.

  Behind him, Ben could hear the unmistakable sound of oiled hands being rubbed together. It was nice that Sam was warming it up for him, but it seemed a little unnecessary.

  Or not unnecessary, exactly, but like more than he deserved.

  “Oh, wow,” Sam said, inhaling deeply. “The scent comes out as you warm it. Holy shit. Remind me to write the brand name down.”

  At least one of them was enjoying themselves. Ben glanced at the other couples, each of them deciding between their own selection of oils and who would go first. Apparently, not everyone had been supplied with the lemon option.

  Ben wasn’t sure if it was random chance, or if this meant that Annie and Robert hated him and wanted him to suffer.

  Or if maybe their sense of smell was non-existent.

  Ben jumped as he felt Sam’s hands fall on the sides of his neck, having forgotten what was about to happen while he’d been lost in his own little world.

  He hadn’t realized how tense he was until the warmth started soothing him instantly. He sighed a deep, heartfelt sigh, and felt his shoulders drop an inch without him consciously trying to make them.

  “Are you planning on needing a lot of massage oil?” Ben asked, closing his eyes even as he felt guilty about how much he was enjoying the simple contact.

  “I can do my own hand and arm massages. You should do those, too. You use your hands a lot, they’re good for you,” Sam said.

  Ben opened his mouth to respond, but groaned instead as Sam’s thumb pressed deeply into a knot. He bit down on his lip to keep himself quiet, but whimpered again as the knot released anyway.

  He shifted his weight, uncomfortably aware of the way his skin was tingling under Sam’s touch. It had been a long, long time since anyone had touched him like this.

  “You sound like you’re having a good time,” Sam said.

  “Yeah,” Ben admitted, more as a breathy sigh than a real world. “Where’d you learn to do this?”

  “Practice,” Sam murmured softly. “I’ve done this for men all over the world.”

  An ugly spike of jealousy hit Ben in the chest. It was gone as soon as it came, but the memory of it remained.

  He didn’t want to be jealous over Sam, and yet…

  Some part of him wanted Sam to be his, and only his, forever.

  That was a pretty big clue that Ben needed to stop worrying about what might happen, and tell Sam how he felt. He’d waited too long. How much longer was he going to wait? Until Sam had been happily married to someone else for twenty years?

  Sam wouldn’t wait for him forever. It was a miracle that he was getting another chance now.

  One mistake was understandable, even if the consequences had been dramatic. Squandering the chance to make things right would have made him unforgivably stupid.

  “You ought to take your shirt off.”

  Ben opened his eyes to see Annie standing in front of him. He blinked at her, startled by the suggestion.

  “You’re getting oil all over it,” she continued. “And I bet you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of under there. Am I right, Sam?”

  Sam laughed nervously, but didn’t respond.

  Ben could tell that he felt trapped by the question, and he didn’t want Sam to be uncomfortable. Sam was doing him a favor.

  Which left him with one option to get out of this.

  He grabbed the back of his t-shirt, nudging Sam’s hands out of the way, and pulled it over his head.

  Annie looked him up and down appraisingly as he straightened his back. “Nice,” she said, and then…

  Then she winked.

  She walked away before Ben could react, not that he had any idea how to.

  “What the hell was that?” Sam asked.

  “I… have no idea. I think… I mean, she must have been trying to help, right?”

  Deep down, Ben knew that wasn’t help. He wasn’t completely unaccustomed to being flirted with, usually before people thought better of the idea.

  “Right,” Sam said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

  He might even have sounded a little jealous, so at least Ben wasn’t alone in feeling like that.

  “Wow,” Sam said as he finally put his hands back on Ben’s shoulders. “Have you been working out? Because I kinda remember you as skinny enough to count the ridges of your spine.”

  Ben rolled his shoulders back, subtly showing off. It couldn’t hurt for Sam to think he looked good.

  “I went through a phase,” he said. “Where I truly believed that working out would make me happier.”

  “Did it?” Sam asked.

  “I liked the endorphin rush after, but overall, not really. But it turns out that once you build muscle, some of it sticks around. Even if your only exercise after is walking to work.”

  “Well…” Sam pressed his fingers into Ben’s shoulder blades, poking his way around the shape of the muscles there. “You look good.”

  Ben’s face heated up, a blush spreading down his neck. “Thanks.”

  Ben closed his eyes again as Sam squeezed his shoulders.

  “An extra stool for you two,” Annie said behind him. Ben pointedly ignored her, pretending to be too blissed out to listen. “A lot of men like having their tummy rubbed, if you’d like to try that.”

  After a pause, Ben felt Sam sit down behind him. “You think she’s thinking of dogs, maybe?”

  Ben snorted. “I have no idea. It’s never occurred to me to ask anyone for a belly rub.”

  “Wanna try it?” Sam asked.

  Ben swallowed. It was one thing to have him touching the back of his neck, but his stomach… that was getting dangerously close to other areas.

  All the same, now that it had been mentioned, he was curious. And if Sam was offering…

  “I’ll try anything once,” Ben decided.

  “There is a laundry list of things you wouldn’t try even once when we were younger, but whatever you say,” Sam said. Ben could hear the smirk in his voice, but the moment Sam slid his hands down Ben’s back to rest on his stomach, he didn’t care anymore.

  Ben wriggled as Sam worked his thumbs in, warmth pooling deep in his gut. This did feel good.

  He wouldn’t have wanted just anyone doing it, though. It was the kind of touch that he knew immediately that he’d only want from people he trusted.

  Not just trusted. He’d have to be attracted to them, too.

  There was no point in pretending he wasn’t attracted to Sam. As the gentle massage continued, Ben was increasingly glad that Sam couldn’t see his crotch from the position he was in.

  “So, is it good?” Sam asked softly.

  “Oh yeah,” Ben said. “I could let you do this forever.”

  Sam chuckled behind him, a warm, rich sound that made a shiver run down Ben’s spine. He’d been unsure when he was younger, but now that he was more comfortable with himself, it was impossible to miss how incredibly, deeply appealing everything about him was.

  From the sound of his laughter to the brush of his breath over the back of Ben’s neck, everything about Sam was something Ben wanted more of.

  He had no idea whether Sam felt the same way, but he needed to find out. He couldn’t keep wondering forever.

  “Okay, time to switch,” Robert called out, startling Ben.

  His heart thudded in his chest, the thought that he was about to touch Sam like this for the first time suddenly overwhelming.

  Finding out sounded great i
n theory, but in practice, it required him to put a whole lot on the line. If Sam rejected him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover.

  On the other hand, he’d faced rejection a thousand times in his work, and he was still going. He was used to it, even. The stakes were higher here—there was only one Sam, and he might only have one shot—but that didn’t mean he could afford to keep taking the coward’s way out.

  Neither of them were going to wait around forever.

  Ben stood, moving behind the stool he’d been sitting on before. He grabbed his t-shirt from where it had ended up draped over the tiny table the oils were on and pulled it back over his head.

  “Do you want me to start with your neck, or skip straight to the good stuff?” Ben asked.

  Fear aside, he wanted Sam to feel good. He wanted to make him happy, bring him pleasure, let him know how valued and special he was to Ben.

  Maybe that was too sappy, but Ben was getting tired of hiding his feelings. He’d seen how happy Eliot and Danny were, and he saw how cute they were with each other. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was sick of him and Sam not being the cutest couple here.

  Ben had spent a long time hiding his feelings, making sure no one could ever use them against him. When they’d been fear and vulnerability, that had made all the sense in the world.

  But love? He shouldn’t have needed to hide that. He’d been doing it for too long.

  “Neck, maybe?” Sam said. He sounded… nervous, which was the last thing Ben had expected from him. “I can’t take my shirt off.”

  Oh.

  Of course.

  Ben’s heart broke for him, but he understood the nervousness now. Not that Sam had to worry. Whatever he was hiding, he didn’t need to. Not from Ben.

  Ben poured some of the chocolate-scented oil into his hands and warmed it up the way Sam had for him.

  “I know what happened to you,” he said softly. “Eliot found out and told me.”

  Ben wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say. Maybe it was too much. Maybe Sam didn’t want the reminder, or maybe he’d be mad that Ben had gone behind his back to find out.

  Sam swallowed thickly, more than loud enough to hear.

  “Oh,” he said after a moment.

  Ben reached out to start massaging his neck, hoping he wouldn’t flinch away. Thankfully, the touch seemed to ease some of the tension in Sam’s shoulders, rather than making it worse.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to tell me. Eliot kinda sprang it on me. That was where he knew your name from, I guess. Or maybe the article just turned up while he was trying to figure it out.”

  “It’s okay,” Sam responded after a moment. “Saves me trying to tell you.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Ben said, for want of something better, more meaningful to say. He was glad Sam was here. He was still processing just how much he’d missed him, how good it was to see him again.

  “I thought I was dead,” Sam said softly, looking down at his lap. “And then I, uh. I thought of you. And how much I missed you, and how much I regretted leaving at all.”

  “So you came back,” Ben finished, finally having all the pieces of the puzzle.

  He wasn’t sure how to handle that information.

  “Yes.” Sam swallowed. “For you,” he added.

  “Okay.” Ben took a deep breath. All his hopes seemed to be coming true, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with that. “I…”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” Sam said before Ben could come up with the words. “And I understand if you’re not interested.”

  “When did I say I wasn’t interested?” Ben asked, moving his fingers to rub behind Sam’s ears. “I know I screwed up when we were kids. But we’re not kids anymore.”

  “I screwed up, too.” Sam tilted his head back to look up at Ben. “Forgive me?”

  “You’re already forgiven,” Ben responded without needing even a half-second to think about it. He’d forgive Sam for anything if it meant they could have the closeness they’d had before back again.

  Ben wasn’t the kind of man who liked to believe in overly sentimental things like soulmates, but if he had one…

  It was Sam. He felt whole with Sam around, in a way he hadn’t in years. There’d been a Sam-sized gap in his life since the moment he left.

  Maybe some people were just meant to be together.

  Sam smiled at him and looked forward again, sighing deeply. He seemed at peace, in a way he hadn’t since he got back.

  Ben wanted to make him feel like that all the time.

  “How long are we supposed to do this for?” Sam asked.

  Ben glanced at the clock on the far side of the room. “About another five minutes. Why, you got somewhere to be?”

  “I was hoping to be alone with you, actually.”

  “Oh,” Ben replied, a spark of arousal hitting him square in the gut. “Well… we could always leave early.”

  Sam stood without a moment’s pause, turning around to grin at Ben, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Deal.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Now that Sam had cooled off for a moment, he was suddenly nervous again. He’d had to excuse himself to the bathroom the minute they got into the room, not ready to face Ben just yet.

  How many times had he fantasized about this when he was younger?

  And yet, now that the time had come… what if Ben did care what he looked like? What if he was repulsed?

  What if Ben abandoned him, too, deciding he was broken and that wasn’t something he had to put up with? That he could do better than a man who was scarred and deeply changed.

  Logically, Sam knew he wouldn’t do any of those things. Ben was the most patient person Sam had ever known, and the kindest, too. He wouldn’t believe that of himself, but it was true. For all the grumpy, prickly exterior, for all the walls he put between himself and the world, he was a good man under it.

  Sam wasn’t used to having walls. He was used to wearing his heart on his sleeve.

  Maybe this was what Ben felt like all the time. Maybe he was constantly afraid.

  Not for the first time, a wave of guilt at leaving him to figure things out for himself washed over Sam. That had been cruel.

  But Ben had forgiven him for it. Ben would forgive him for anything.

  Including not being young and beautiful anymore.

  With a surge of determination, Sam stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor. He could do this.

  They’d finally both arrived at the same place at the same time, and he wasn’t going to throw away this opportunity. Not just for the sex—although that sounded great—but for what he was hoping would happen after.

  He wanted to be with Ben. This was the way to make that happen. Trust had to come first.

  Taking a deep breath, Sam pushed the bedroom door open and found Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. He turned to look at Sam when he heard him approach.

  His mouth fell open, and then his whole expression changed.

  Not to disgust, or horror. Not to any of the things Sam had been afraid of.

  Ben softened in a way Sam had never really seen on him before. Warmth and adoration rolled off him so strongly that Sam could almost feel it as a physical force from where he was, a solid four feet away.

  That was a relief.

  “Hey,” Ben said, standing. “I was starting to think you’d climbed out the bathroom window.”

  Despite his nerves, Sam laughed. This was fine.

  This was better than fine.

  It wasn’t the desperate, spur of the moment coming together he’d always expected them to have. It was much, much better than that.

  “Tried it, didn’t fit. Even naked,” Sam joked in return, taking another half-step toward Ben.

  Ben, who wasn’t staring at his scars, but wasn’t looking away, either. Who was looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

&nb
sp; “Shoulda taken that oil with you. Greased yourself up.”

  “Yeah, well…” Sam shrugged. “I guess I’m stuck here now.”

  Ben hummed, stepping forward to close the gap between them. “You think it’d be okay if I kissed you?”

  Sam’s heart rate jumped, his pulse suddenly deafening in his ears. How many times had he wanted Ben to ask exactly that question?

  All he could manage was a nod.

  Apparently, that was more than enough for Ben, who surged forward and caught his lips without another second of hesitation. Sam grunted at the impact, and then leaned into it, grabbing fistfuls of Ben’s t-shirt to hold himself steady, hold Ben in place.

  Ben still smelled of chocolate, and warmth, and tasted like orange juice, and felt so solid and real against him that it brought tears to Sam’s eyes. His heart soared as he whimpered into Ben’s mouth, torn between demanding more and telling him how good this felt.

  Sam grabbed the hem of Ben’s t-shirt, hitching it up, splaying his fingers over the skin of his stomach. He hadn’t touched Ben nearly enough yet. He wanted more.

  To his surprise, Ben moved his own hands to Sam’s sides, squeezing him gently, his thumbs sinking deep into the flesh. On one side, his fingers pressed into pristine, smooth skin.

  On the other side, scar tissue. There was no way Ben couldn’t feel it, but he didn’t change his grip. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t back off to apologize, which would have been understandable, but still devastating.

  He just kept touching Sam as though he wanted to touch him.

  Why had he ever even bothered with anyone who wasn’t Ben? Ben was easily the most perfect man in the world.

  “You can take that off, if you want,” Ben murmured against Sam’s lips. “No pressure.”

  Sam chuckled and lifted the hem of the shirt again, not needing to be told twice. He hated to let go of Ben’s mouth, but the payoff would be worth it.

  He tugged the t-shirt off over Ben’s head and tossed it aside, pausing for a moment to look at him from the front this time. Unable to stop himself, Sam reached out to touch, brushing his thumb over one of Ben’s nipples and watching it harden under his touch.