by Beth Bolden
There was nothing else to do but swing open the dressing room door and walk apprehensively into the waiting area.
Somewhere, deep inside, Benji still felt like that bullied little kid, awkward and dorky, with his ungainly limbs and too-big hands and feet.
“Wow,” Diego said. Someone had given him a bag of microwave popcorn with his flute of champagne, and he tossed a few kernels in his mouth. “I don’t know why I haven’t gotten a stylist yet, if she can work these sorts of wonders.”
Benji blushed bright red. “I know, they’re awful, aren’t they?”
Diego’s dark gaze swept from the top of his head all the way to his feet. There was almost nothing more exhilarating on earth than having Diego really look at him, like he could see through his skin, right down to his soul. Benji wasn’t proud of every single part of who he was, but Diego had always accepted everything like it was precious and valuable.
He put the popcorn down, which meant something because for Diego, popcorn was a major food group. After he stood up, he circled around to where Benji stood in front of the mirror. “To be honest, I like the guy in them a whole lot better,” Diego said with a playful grin.
It was impossible not to blush even harder. “Thanks.”
Diego put a hand on Benji’s hip, fingers digging in just enough to send zings of pleasure and pain up his spine. “Why don’t you just pick out your own clothes? I do okay.”
Benji hesitated. He didn’t want to confess the real reason why it was perfectly fine for Diego to pick out stuff, but so difficult for him. But Diego probably wasn’t done asking. He’d already asked the same question three different ways, and if Benji knew anything, it was how stubborn Diego could be.
Especially if he thought Benji was hiding something.
“You’re . . . you’ve got good taste. Your clothes are so simple, like a frame to . . .” Benji waved around Diego’s head. “All that.”
Diego raised an eyebrow. “All what?”
It was difficult not to roll his eyes, but Benji managed it. “You know how gorgeous you are. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised at all, because he was, but Diego’s eyes went wide and shocked, like this was the first time he was ever hearing that people found him attractive. Diego’s hand clamped down harder on Benji’s hip and his other found his shoulder, and he stared into Benji’s eyes as his fingers stroked up to his collar and under it, brushing against his skin.
Benji shivered.
“You’ve never told me that before,” Diego murmured.
“You knew it already. You know how I feel about you.” Benji had lost count of the number of times Diego walked into a room and he literally fell over something or dropped what he was holding. It would’ve been embarrassing, but Diego’s pleased smile always erased any humiliation he might have felt.
Diego had always made him feel just right in his skin, when the rest of the world made him feel like it was unbearably small.
“I know, but you’ve never said it to me before,” Diego said, and the smile dawning over his face now put all those other pleased ones to shame.
Of course he hadn’t. That would’ve been crossing the line that they’d somewhat scrupulously maintained over the years. But now, he could say and do anything he wanted. All this freedom was heady, and a little overwhelming.
Benji reached up and cradled that incredibly arresting face between his palms. “You’re beautiful,” he said, because he couldn’t say it enough, now that he was allowed. “You’re the most beautiful person I know. Inside and out. And your tattoos, they’re gorgeous, ridiculously so. Like art on art.”
Diego leaned down and kissed him. It still made Benji’s breath catch in his throat that they could do this now, and it only took Diego’s lips brushing across his to overwhelm him in an instant. And that was even before he tilted his head, changing the angle, and deepened the kiss. Heat roared through Benji, destroying all the good intentions holding him back. He slid his hands down Diego’s back and pulled him in closer, and then closer still.
He could feel Diego’s dick, hard against his hip, and all he felt was another rush of desire, hot and intoxicating, swirl through him. He’d been afraid for so long, but he wasn’t afraid anymore.
“Excuse me,” an amused voice said behind him.
Benji barely managed to wrench his mouth from Diego’s, panting hard. Diego’s eyes fluttered open, even darker than normal, and his tongue flicked out, tasting his lower lip. A second ago, that tongue had been in Benji’s mouth, and he’d been nibbling at that delectably swollen lip. He wanted to be back doing that, not trying on ugly clothes.
“Sorry,” Diego offered belatedly, not sounding vey sorry at all. Benji glanced up in the mirror and saw Cora, his stylist, leaning against the wall.
“Oh, don’t be,” she said, her smile widening, “it was quite a show. I don’t think you’ve introduced me to your boyfriend, Benji.”
Boyfriend. The word clanged around Benji’s brain, and again, there wasn’t a single ounce of panic to be found, only exhilaration. Because they weren’t just friends anymore. They were more, finally, and now he could introduce Diego to Cora as his boyfriend.
Then Diego turned around more fully, and Benji heard Cora’s breath catch in her throat. Of course she’d know that face. Diego wasn’t exactly someone you’d forget, once you saw him.
“You’re . . .” Cora was an exceedingly self-possessed person, confident and certain in every situation she and Benji had ever found themselves in. This was the first time she’d ever been speechless.
Naturally this development would be surprising to someone who didn’t know them both. It just seemed so unsurprising to Benji because he’d been living with these feelings for so long. To everyone else in the world, Benji and Diego from Star Shadow dating would be major news.
“Hi, I’m Diego.” Diego walked over to her with his hand outstretched, and Cora shook it, still apparently in a speechless daze. He glanced back at Benji, and for once, he couldn’t interpret it. And then he could, because Diego kept talking. “I’m Benji’s boyfriend.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop in the room. “Hi,” she said faintly, “I’m Cora. This must be . . . new.”
Diego looked as relaxed as if he was meeting lifelong friends, and not like he’d just outed their relationship to Benji’s stylist. “Yes and no.” Diego shot Benji another of those inscrutable looks. Benji was beginning to think they were supposed to indicate Diego wanted to drop a bomb, and Benji was supposed to stop him if he didn’t want him to go on. But Benji had no fucking clue what Diego was going to say next, so he just shrugged. Cora had already walked in on them devouring each other, there wasn’t much else Diego could say that would shock her.
“We’ve known each other a long time,” Diego continued. “But yes, the boyfriend part is pretty new.”
“I’m glad for you two,” Cora said cautiously, and then turned her attention to Benji. “And really happy for you.”
Don’t be self-conscious, Benji told himself firmly, you’ll make Diego think you’re ashamed of him. But it was hard, because Benji felt he spent so much of his life pretending everything was normal, even though it never was. It should’ve gotten easier, he supposed, with all that experience, but somehow it never did.
“Thanks,” he said shortly. “Now what about these pants? Really?”
Cora shot him a somewhat despairing look. “They’re on-trend right now.”
“They’re hideous,” Diego supplied.
“They sort of are,” she agreed, and Benji belatedly realized that he was no longer going to be giving the sole opinion on Cora’s clothing choices.
Diego did have a good artistic eye, and he always looked laid-back and cool. Benji figured there were worse people who could be telling his stylist how to dress him.
“Don’t you have something that accentuates his . . . well . . .” Diego shot Benji that glance again. “Well, how fucking rippe
d he is? Because I could get on board with that.”
Cora laughed. “I think we can figure something out. I’ll be right back. Go change out of those and into the next outfit, and we’ll reconvene.”
After Cora left, Benji turned to go back into the changing room, but Diego reached out and caught his arm. “I’m sorry,” he said, “if I should be. I probably shouldn’t have told her like that.”
Benji’s heart melted like a candle into a puddle of wax. “It’s fine. She . . . well, I think she’d already figured that part out.”
“Yeah, probably.” Diego’s smile was so brightly unapologetic, it could have lit up a room.
“So.” Benji shrugged. “All you did was confirm her suspicions already. Besides, I trust her. She’s discreet. She’s not going to go blabbing it to everyone she knows.”
“Okay.” Diego seemed to relax. “I’m assuming she didn’t know you were bisexual.”
Benji’s smile was rueful but he couldn’t say he was all that upset she’d found out. “She does now.”
“I’m sorry. You should get to come out how you want.”
“I know, but it was really fine,” Benji insisted. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Understanding dawned in Diego’s eyes. “You really are, aren’t you?”
“This has been a long time coming. I’ve spent a fucking age thinking about it. Haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” Diego admitted. “But telling your personal friend and stylist isn’t the same as telling the world, you know?”
“Yeah, well, that’s a lot. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said it so bluntly, but Diego needed to know, and couldn’t really expect more. They were international superstars. They made headlines when they put the trash out. Coming out of the closet was complex with their careers, and coming out of the closet with their relationship definitely involved a few additional wrinkles.
“Yeah, I get it,” Diego said. “We’ll figure it out, when it’s right.”
Benji thought of Rochelle and Jay’s big plan, but pushed the thought to the side. He’d told Jay he’d think about it, but he still didn’t want to do it. He just needed to think of another plan first, so Jay wouldn’t freak out when he said he wouldn’t date Rochelle.
“I’m going to get changed, and then after, we can grab some dinner, yeah?”
Diego settled back on the couch with his popcorn and his flute of champagne. “A little more like a date,” he conceded with a grin. “I like it.”
———
Of course Diego wasn’t going to drop his one burning question.
When they settled down into the darker, back corner of one of Benji’s favorite Malibu restaurants, he asked it again.
“So again, why is it okay for me to manage without a stylist, but you need Cora?” he asked, dipping a chip into the salsa verde the waiter had already placed on their table.
“Maybe I like Cora,” Benji said flippantly.
Diego rolled his eyes. “She’s nice, yeah, but you didn’t meet her and think, oh I should hire her because she’s nice. And you started to make a point before you distracted me with all that most-beautiful-man-you’ve-ever-seen crap.”
“It’s not crap,” Benji said indignantly.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, but it was still a distraction.”
Benji had to concede that point. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“Then, what’s the deal with this stylist shit? Just buy your own damn clothes.”
Benji took a deep breath. “You’re good, you’re cool, and you’re gorgeous, so you need less help. Me? I could use all the help I can get. I’ve got way less material to work with, and not great instincts besides.”
Leaning back in his chair, Diego frowned. “You’ve got ‘less material’ to work with? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Benji shot him a look. “I already told you. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I’m objectively . . . not.”
“What!” Diego practically squeaked. “What.”
Benji shrugged. He’d said the reason, he wasn’t going to take it back.
“You really don’t think . . . you do.” Diego frowned. “You don’t think you’re hot? Really.”
“I’m not fishing for compliments,” Benji said stiffly. He wished he’d lied or said just about anything else, because he wasn’t comfortable at all with this conversation. Diego cared about him, almost certainly loved him, and that was enough. He didn’t need to be hot to win his love.
“I think . . . Jesus fucking Christ, Benny, you know I think you’re hot. You . . .” Diego waved his arms around Benji’s general space. “Your muscles have muscles. I can’t wait to take all your clothes off and finally get to enjoy that.”
It was Benji’s turn to be surprised. He could hear his heartbeat, pounding away at the image Diego’s words had created. I can’t wait to take all your clothes off and finally get to enjoy that.
What did enjoy entail exactly? Could he ask now? No, Benji reprimanded himself sternly, that isn’t the point of this conversation.
“You’re surprised. You really . . .” Diego shook his head. “I wanna fucking climb you like a tree, okay?”
Benji cleared his throat. “Okay.”
“Do you remember the first day we met?”
Did he remember the first day they met? The first day he’d ever realized that he could be attracted to guys? Yeah, he fucking remembered.
“I didn’t want another member in the band. I definitely didn’t want someone who played the keyboard,” Benji said. “Then it was you who showed up. It was like taking a club to the head. It wouldn’t have mattered if you played the fucking tambourine, I would have said yes.”
“So you remember,” Diego said, sounding smugly satisfied.
“Of course I fucking remember,” Benji muttered. “That day changed my whole life.”
“Good.” Diego paused. “It changed mine too, you know. I didn’t even want to join your band. I told Caleb I thought it sounded lame. And of course he defended Leo after I said that, and then he defended you, and said you had vision, whatever that meant. But you did, and a plan, and you were kind and sweet and had these biceps that nearly made me cry. Do you remember when we went swimming?”
Benji nodded. He knew Diego wouldn’t lie to him, but why hadn’t he told him all of this a long time ago? Why hadn’t he told him that day? Maybe he wouldn’t have been ready to hear it, but at least he would have known, and that might have changed the path of their entire lives.
“You took your shirt off, and I swear to God, my mouth went dry and my knees went weak. You’ve been doing that to me ever since, you know.”
“I didn’t, actually,” Benji said softly.
“I know. We were stupid, for a long time, but at least we’re not stupid anymore.” Diego reached across the table and tucked his fingers into Benji’s and gave a little squeeze. “It’s the present that matters, but it’s nice to hear about the past, too.”
“I could hear more about this tree-climbing thing,” Benji teased, and for the first time ever, he saw Diego blush.
Diego tugged his hand away and focused on the menu, hiding his face. “I bet you could.”
“Yeah, who’s that idiot who suggested we take things slow?” Benji asked innocently.
Over the top of his menu, Diego shot Benji a daggered look. “You agreed to it.”
“I’m not saying it’s wrong,” Benji said, picking at his napkin, “I’m saying it’s not going to be easy. At least not if earlier is any indication. I put my hands and mouth on you, and I don’t want to stop.”
“What if I told you that I’d be cool with us doing it again?” Diego asked, and Benji knew he was only pretending to be interested in the menu.
“Where. When. How soon. That’s what I’d want to know.” Benji should have been embarrassed at how deep and gravelly his voice had grown at just the thought.
Diego glanced up from the menu and his eyes were burning, his gaze
searing right into Benji’s skin. “Tomorrow night?”
“I’d tell you that’s not quite soon enough, but if I get to kiss you again, then I suppose I’ll live.”
Diego returned to his menu, muttering underneath his breath, and heat spiked through Benji, just thinking that he was having just as much trouble controlling himself as Benji was.
Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough.
CHAPTER FIVE
Diego had been pretty sure he was going to regret telling Benji that they needed to slow down, but he hadn’t thought he’d regret it quite so fast.
But right now, perched on Benji’s lap in the back seat of the town car he’d called after dinner, mindlessly and endlessly kissing, Diego definitely regretted it.
He regretted it even more when Benji’s mouth slid to his neck, instantly finding where he was most sensitive. And really fucking regretted it when Benji moved his hands from his hips to his ass, cupping and pulling him right down onto the gorgeously hard cock that Diego had been trying not to fantasize about forever.
“You feel so fucking good,” Benji breathed out. Diego’s fingers skimmed down from his insanely broad shoulders to where his heart beat, fast and hot underneath his palm.
Resting his forehead against Benji’s, Diego tried—and failed—to get his breathing under control. He was panting like he’d just gotten out of spin class, and why? Because they’d started making out five minutes ago and it had spiraled out of control almost immediately.
“Shit,” Diego swore, “if I’d known it was going to be like this, I would have pinned you down and kissed you a long time ago.”
Benji grinned up at him, looking as light as a cloud. “As long as you promise to keep kissing me. Future, not the past, remember?”
“Yeah, but I wanna be up on this,” Diego said, and his hand skimmed down further, before his actual brain could chime in and insist this was a bad idea, and slid right over Benji’s erection.
Even with two layers of fabric between his cock and Diego’s hand, it felt burning hot, and Diego swore he could feel it twitch.