“I’ll do whatever you want. I told you I’d do anything, and I meant it.” Ben can see hope written all over Xander’s face, but he turns away, pulling Xander by the hand.
“Come on, then. Come and play.”
Chapter Twenty
It’s too familiar and not at all, because for the first time since Ben cut him, Xander is naked first and Ben is still clothed, pulling him onto the bed. But Ben doesn’t stay covered up for long, as Xander lays out his long, thin limbs next to Ben and plucks at buttons. His fingers are as clever as ever, trailing down Ben’s skin, pinching occasionally like he’s set on autopilot.
I have never had this kind of sex before, Ben thinks. He’s had angry sex, desperate sex, loving sex, but never something like this, where he’s pleased to see pain mixed with the want in Xander’s eyes when he pulls him down to kiss. It’s like nothing he’s felt before. And it’s nothing good.
“Tell me about it,” Ben says into Xander’s clavicle. “Tell me how you saw it when you were planning it.”
Xander has already pulled Ben’s sweatpants down, and is rubbing in an encouraging fashion at his cock, trying to get him out of his boxer briefs.
“It wasn’t like this.”
“How? Tell me.”
Xander finally gets the briefs down and Ben feels the terrycloth of the towel rubbing against his dick. He’s hard, getting harder. Ben rolls them over and pulls at the towel, slides on top of Xander so that they lie flush together, fitting together in familiar patterns like the cogs of a clock. Ben props himself up on an elbow and looks at Xander.
He’s so serious-looking, his dark eyes somber and thoughtful in the light from the hallway.
“Tell me how you thought about it,” Ben says stubbornly. “I want to do it that way. Was I tied up?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I was on top.”
Ben pulls at him and rolls until Xander is on top. “And what else?”
“What does it matter? It’s not exactly how I thought it would be. Can we just—”
“No. No, no, no. You tell me how you thought about it and we’ll try to do it that way.” He knows he’s digging in, pushing down on the tender spot and making it hurt, because Xander is clearly troubled.
“This isn’t for me. This is for you. We’ll do it however you want it.”
“I want to do it the way you thought about it,” Ben insists. Xander starts kissing him, and Ben pushes him away. “Don’t try to distract me—”
“When I thought it out, I kissed you like that. I was going to make sure you were nice and hard for me. And then I would kneel over you and use my hand to stop you breathing.” Xander’s voice is quiet. “I was going to ask you to jack yourself. I wanted to watch your face while I did it. Safer, that way.”
“Oh.”
Xander changes, becomes business-like. “You need a safe signal. You won’t be able to talk. So you need to be able to tell me to stop if necessary. Remember sometimes when I gagged you, we had a ball—do you have anything like that, something you can drop?” Ben shrugs. “Or can you snap your fingers?”
“Yeah. I can tie my own shoelaces too.”
For a moment, the world spins, and they grin at each other. It’s like before, when they could snark at each other or banter in the middle of everything and it was just what they did, how they showed affection. And the pain was how they showed love.
“Well, if you want to stop, snap your fingers, preferably in my face so I can’t miss it.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good boy.” Xander smiles again.
But Ben hears the tone of approval in Xander’s voice and it makes him angry, instantly.
Xander’s eyes change shape, from crinkled-happy to worried-sad. He shifts slightly so he has access, and begins to stroke at Ben’s dick. He drops his head into Ben’s shoulder, and Ben feels him breathing hot against his skin. “I missed you so much.” Ben doesn’t reply. “I’ll make this so good for you, and as safe as I can, I promise. I love you.”
“Don’t say that.” Xander’s hand falters on his cock, and Ben regrets his words instantly. “You can bite me if you like,” he offers.
“I’d like that. Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
When Xander bites into him gently, Ben feels his eyes prickle with tears, but forces them back. Xander takes his time, longer than Ben thinks is really necessary, biting and tugging and making him gasp, until the anger inside him is a molten lava flow running through his whole body.
“Now. Do it now.”
Xander pushes Ben down into the bed and straddles him, on his hands and knees so that their faces are inches away. Ben can see everything on Xander’s face—love, fear, lust, doubt.
If you make him do this, it really will be the end between you.
“Touch yourself. Jack your dick for me,” Xander says, and Ben does. His hand hits Xander’s heavy cock as well, bouncing it, but Xander is unmoved. He waits until Ben’s breathing has accelerated before he looks straight at him. “I’m doing this for you. Because I love you, and I want to show you that I love you and that I’m sorry.”
Ben closes his eyes. He can’t look anymore. “Just do it.”
Is this fair? Is this really fair to him? To either of you?
Xander strokes his hand over Ben’s shoulder, tender over the bites, and down towards his dick. He traces the outline of the bruise Jake left on Ben’s midsection. Ben feels fingertips coming up, running over his chest, up his neck, brushing over his mouth, settling over his nose—
His eyes snap open and he grabs Xander’s wrist, hard. They stare at each other.
“This isn’t right,” Ben blurts out.
“But you said—”
“Odyssey.”
Xander is frozen for about three seconds before he rolls away, and struggles off the bed. Ben sits up and watches him, horrified. It’s like Xander can’t see properly; he stumbles into a wall and slides down it, all the way to the floor, his too-thin frame collapsing in on itself. The worst thing is the way he cups a hand over his face, pushed into the plaster, so that Ben can’t see his expression at all.
“Xander.” Ben drags himself off the bed and crawls over to him. “Xander—I just couldn’t.”
Xander doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry?” Ben tries. “I know I was—”
“I’ll go. Just give me a minute.” His voice is muffled, and Ben can barely hear him.
“No, you don’t have to go.” He pulls at Xander until he can see his face, and then wishes that he hadn’t. He’s never seen Xander look so destroyed.
Xander says, “I should never have agreed to this.”
Ben feels ill. For a horrible second he’s sure he’s going to have to turn away and puke all over his own carpet, because it hits him, hard, exactly what this game of revenge has cost. He’s pushed beyond Xander’s limits again without even thinking about how it might affect him. Without caring.
“Jesus Christ. Xander, listen, please listen to me—it’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”
“You’re sorry?” Xander blinks, like he doesn’t understand the words.
Ben pulls him, determined, until they can hug, Xander’s mouth pressed into his neck and Ben’s arms tight around him. “You were right, you were right—this wasn’t a healthy idea. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Xander says something completely unintelligible and Ben pulls him back, presses his face into Xander’s. “What?”
“You said that saying sorry was meaningless.”
“Jesus fuck,” Ben breathes. “Don’t listen to me. I don’t know anything. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I should go.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I just wanted to make things up to you.”
“I know. Wait. Wait here. You’re cold.”
Ben is too worried to think about his own nakedness, but he stops dead halfway across t
he room when Xander says, “Benjamin. What. Is. That?”
He half turns, sees Xander staring at his bare ass. His bare XR’d ass. “You know what it is.”
“Why is it still there? It’s been months.”
“It should have faded off,” Ben agrees. “It…didn’t yet.” He keeps moving, gets a tee and some yoga pants that he thinks are probably Xander’s anyway, because they’ve never seemed to fit him—they have crazy long legs.
Xander’s color is starting to return when Ben gets back to him, and he stands up easily. “I don’t need help.”
“Maybe not, but I need to help you.”
“Aftercare, huh?”
“I would bandage you if I could.”
A ghost of a smirk crosses Xander’s face, but dies quickly. He pulls on the clothes and Ben, once he’s sure Xander can do it himself, puts his own track pants back on.
“What now?” Xander asks. He’s still shivering.
“Lie down. Here.” Ben pulls back the sheets and Xander falls into the bed gratefully.
It’s coming up on five a.m. now. Ben gets in next to Xander and they wrap around each other. “We should sleep,” Ben says.
“This isn’t working,” Xander says, and Ben knows he’s not talking about sleep.
“It’s working right now. Right here. When we don’t think about the extraneous stuff.”
“It’s not enough for it to work here and now, though. The extraneous stuff is the actual relationship.”
Ben doesn’t want to hear that, not now. “I’m sorry I did that to you. I kind of hate myself now.”
“I’m sorry I agreed to do it. And I…kind of hate you too.” But Xander smiles, and Ben snorts, relieved. “But I definitely hate me too. How did it get all twisted up?”
Ben ignores that. “Are you going to flop all over me in your sleep?”
Xander stiffens slightly. “I’ll try not to.”
“I want you to. And you can do that weird nose thing if you want.”
Ben turns over, pulling Xander’s arms into position. Xander sighs, but buries his nose uncomfortably under Ben’s neck.
Ben sleeps, but not long enough. He wakes to find Xander watching him, grave and frowning.
“You’re here.” Ben smiles.
“I shouldn’t be.” Xander rolls over, saying, “I’m gonna go, I’ll—”
“Xander.” Ben grabs at him. “We need to talk. Stay.”
“I don’t think there’s much point,” Xander says miserably.
“What do you mean?” Ben feels his heart steadily picking up pace. He went to sleep feeling hope, and this is what he wakes up to?
Xander pulls away and kicks his way out of the sheets. “There’s no point if you don’t love me anymore. And that’s okay, really, but I should—”
“Where on earth did you get that—oh.” Ben squeezes his eyes shut and wishes he could shut out his own words, replaying through his mind. Those were acts of love between us, and that’s gone now. “I was just saying that,” he says lamely. “To hurt you.”
“To hurt me?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I was aiming for mild jerk but it got a bit out of control and ended up at total asshat.” Ben feels his cheeks heat up with shame. That was real cruelty. “Of course I love you. I wish I didn’t, because everything would be easier, but I still love you.”
“You still love me?” If Xander were a cartoon, Ben thinks, he’d have little red hearts floating around him like bubbles right now. He nods, and Xander takes a deep breath. “That changes everything.”
“I don’t exactly see how, but if it means you’ll stay and talk, okay.”
“Because if we both love each other we should get back together.”
Ben wills himself not to sigh. “Xander. Loving someone is not a reason to get back together. Unless both of us make some major changes, there’s no point in getting back together. If the same problems keep recurring—”
“But they won’t. I promise! I’ll never act like that again, I’ll never say anything like that again, and I’ll go to therapy and—”
“Xander, come on. We didn’t break up just because of that one night.”
“We didn’t?”
Ben stares at him in wonder. Xander looks genuinely puzzled. Sometimes, he really is unbelievably naïve. “Nope. We had problems long before then, and—and we never managed to fix them, not really, even with an Honesty Policy, and the long distance didn’t help, even with all the Rules…it just didn’t work. I don’t entirely know why, but it didn’t. But it wasn’t just you; I had my own issues. I have my own issues.”
“You don’t have to be kind to me.”
“I’m not being kind, I’m being honest. You were right about some things. I do have a lack of self-preservation, and I do have anger issues. And I jump into things before I really think them through.”
“Like this relationship?”
Ben can’t answer that. He doesn’t know what the answer is. “This relationship has changed me,” he says at last. “I will never be the same again. It’s like you, with your tattoo. Indelible. Although you can get that removed.”
“I would never get it removed.” Ben’s heart aches to hear Xander’s voice cracking. “If nothing else, it’s a reminder that for a little while I was a functioning member of the human race.” He gives a broken smile. “Is there any hope for us?”
Ben feels like he’s teetering on the brink of something, like before he goes into subspace, the canyon beneath his feet and a choice to jump forward or pull back. This isn’t subspace, but he has to make a decision sooner or later, which way to fall.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “But I think we need to talk. Really talk. When are you flying back to New York?”
Xander glances at the clock. “I have to be at the airport in five hours.”
Five hours. It’s as good as any other arbitrary deadline. “Then let’s get started.”
“Okay.” Xander slides back into the bed slowly. “Just one thing first—ground rule. Are you really going to kick me out if I say the T-word?”
Ben frowns, and then smiles as he understands. “No, Xander. Not today. Today you can therapize as much as you like.”
They both chuckle, but it’s not quite normal. Things are still on edge.
“So,” Ben says. “You can go first. Age before beauty.”
Xander rolls his eyes. And he begins to talk.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ben shifts slightly to the side in the bed so he has a better view. He watches Xander’s face closely. He doesn’t want to make Xander uncomfortable, but Ben is desperate for information. Xander doesn’t seem to notice, though. He’s too caught up in choosing his words. He wraps his arms around his own shoulders, instinctively protective of himself, but when he speaks, it’s open. Honest.
“I’ve always been afraid of losing you,” Xander tells him. “Because of…how I am. You know what I mean.”
“If you’re doing it you should be able to say it.” It’s the same thing Xander used to say to Ben sometimes, when he was teasing. Ben speaks gently, but he’s surprised. Usually Xander is not so self-conscious, not about this. He can ask, demand, instruct without even a mild blush.
“Because I like to hurt the person I love. Because I like to hurt you. To show you I love you.”
“When we first got together, you were completely comfortable describing yourself as a sadist. What’s changed?”
“The stakes are much higher now.”
They look at each other.
“Keep going,” Ben says.
“Most of the time I knew it was okay, I knew you liked what I did. But when I saw your play, heard those words coming out of the actors, saw that guy playing Fletcher…” He stares at the comforter, smoothing it over his thigh as though reassuring himself. “I made some connections in my mind that were unfair and were just my paranoia and stupidity and—”
“Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that. Full explanation.”
Xander squirms. “Way back when we first read Blood Bond together, you asked me how I’d play it. You asked whether I would just be myself. Whether I would just be scary, because I like being scary.”
“Yes,” Ben says after a moment. “I remember that. And you asked me if I was sure I could pull off the play as a whole.”
“Yeah. We were kidding around, or I guess I thought we were at the time, but then later I wondered if you really did see me like Fletcher. Scary, like that. And then when you wanted to cut me, you said you wanted to learn how I did it, so your play could be more authentic. You wanted to know how it felt for me and what I thought when I was doing it.”
That’s also true. That’s what Ben said to Xander to convince him to do it. “It wasn’t really about the play,” Ben admits. “I mean—it was, but…” He clears his throat. “Mostly I just wanted to try it for me, not for my writing. But keep going. I’ll stop interrupting.”
“When you were doing your research for the play, you were asking me all those questions, about control and fear and what I liked about it and…just so many questions. You said I was your primary resource, so I thought—I thought—”
“You thought, reasonably enough, that I was basing Fletcher on you.” Ben feels sick.
“Yes.”
“I wish I’d told you, Xander. By the end, after all my research, I realized then—you’re nothing like Fletcher.”
Xander swallows. “Well. Okay.” He chews his nail for a second, and then continues. “And then I saw the play, and it was so good. Too good. I thought that maybe you were enjoying that process so much, directing the characters that way because you wanted to be like me. It was like life and drama were crashing together and I thought…” He takes a deep breath. “I thought that once you’d finished with the play, maybe you’d start to hate me.”
“What?”
“I know. It doesn’t make any rational sense, but I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore. I thought that you would have got it out of your system, all that stuff. And I knew I wouldn’t be enough for you anymore.”
“That is complete horseshit. I wasn’t just trying to get it out of my system. You know I love it. You know me.” Ben takes a deep breath and adds, “You know I love you.”
Break the Rules (Rough Love Book 7) Page 16
