by M. J. O'Shea
“Night, Ro,” he whispered against Rory’s neck.
Rory smiled and ran his fingers through Ben’s sweat-damp hair. “Night, Ben.” He brushed a tiny, comfortable kiss on Ben’s forehead, then closed his eyes. It took Ben nearly an hour to fall asleep himself, but when he did, he was still smiling.
“MORNING, GORGEOUS.” Ben smiled and reached out for Rory. He felt so damn good. Memories of the night rushed in, of how close they’d been, how it felt to finally have all of Rory’s body on his, his heartbeat thumping away against Ben’s chest, the taste of his skin, the way he moaned Ben’s name—it had been perfect. Ben couldn’t wait for more.
“Ben, listen. Last night….” Rory looked down at the sheets.
And that’s where his stupid heart crumpled in his chest, a fragile paper ball ready to ignite and burn away. Of course. “Oh, I’m a fucking idiot, aren’t I? If this is the big ‘wow, that was a mistake’ speech, then let’s have it.”
Ben turned away and stared at the pale patch of light bleaching out a square of his floor. How could he think it was anything but a mistake? How could he think that Rory wanted them back? He felt a tentative touch on his back, fingers trailing down his spine. Ben flinched. He went to roll away, get up, get as far away from his damn humiliation as he could.
“I wasn’t going to say it was a mistake,” Rory said quietly. “It wasn’t.”
Ben froze warily. “Then what?” To be honest, he didn’t know how to read the look Rory had given him.
“It’s just… last night, I wasn’t in a good place, and you were exactly what I needed.”
“So what? It was just a fun time between friends? Blowing off some steam?” His gut churned. But anything, even fun that didn’t mean more than fun, was better than being called a damn mistake.
“Yeah. If that’s okay,” Rory said. “It meant a lot that you’d do that for me.” Rory smiled shyly. “You were amazing.”
Everything hurt. Ben could only shrug. “Guess I should be. Have enough practice by now.”
It was a stupid thing to say, probably, but he had to shield his sad little bruised heart. He wasn’t stupid, he hadn’t expected a ring and promises of forever, but when Rory had kissed him, he’d hoped it meant more. It had felt like more. Ben guessed that was just him putting his emotions into something. So it was one-sided, which sucked. Not much he could do other than brush it off and try to make the most of what he could get.
“Yeah,” Rory said with a low chuckle. Ben thought he might be imagining it, but it seemed like Rory’s smile might have faltered. He hated how that made him feel a little better.
“It was pretty great, though,” Ben said. He wanted to see a smile. “Maybe we can… again sometime.”
“Yeah,” Rory repeated. “I think I can do that.”
“I probably do need a bit more practice if I’m expected to perform at my best,” Ben said. “I feel a little rusty.”
The only response he got was a sly, sexy smile.
NEW YEAR’S was a giddy, blurry night. Ben still couldn’t quite believe what had become of his life, how much things had changed since September. The guys, Jeremy’s wife, Pinky, and a few of her musician friends had gathered at Sugarshack for a silly night of dancing and drinking in a room full of strangers. Ben had thought that things might be weird between him and Rory in front of their friends, that maybe they wouldn’t touch, or that Rory would pull away like he had been all fall. Not even close.
Who knew if it was the alcohol or the high from a room full of glittery happy people, but Rory acted nothing like Ben had expected. Their whole group did a round of shots when they first got there, and then Ben nearly got knocked to the ground by an exuberant Rory who wanted to dance. He laughed and held out his hand, which Rory used to drag him out to the dance floor. They’d never danced together before. Ben was pretty glad because he was rather sure he couldn’t have handled it. Even with the others crowding around them—Fen laughing and spinning Pinky, Jeremy and Delia bouncing up and down, Pinky’s friends joining the show—it still felt like he and Rory were alone and quiet in the eye of a raging storm of people, touching, grinding, pressing closer and closer. They danced and touched and laughed and drank and touched, and Ben wanted to kiss Rory so damn bad, but he didn’t know what was acceptable. The clock counted down to midnight, to another year gone. For the first time in ages, Ben didn’t feel that year had been like a black wasted hole. He was finally where he wanted to be. Almost, at least.
It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when the actual countdown began. Ben had been at the bar with Fen when it started, but he looked out over the crowd, searching for a glowing head of caramel waves. There he was, and he was looking for Ben too, head popping up over the crowd until they connected gazes, and Rory’s face broke open into a huge grin. So that’s the way it was.
Ben turned away from the bar and surged through the crowd. Ten, nine… there he was, only a few feet away. Five, four… he reached Rory, and they just stood there for a second. But then Rory’s hands were reaching out toward Ben’s, and their fingers entwined, and fuck it. He didn’t care. When the crowd shouted, ringing in the new year, he rubbed his nose against Rory’s and kissed him, kissed him like none of their friends were ten feet away, probably with their mouths wide open, but hopefully, finding their own kiss, their own moment of happiness. He kissed him like, well, like he was in love and it was a beautiful night and anything was possible. That’s what it felt like, no matter what the truth was. They drew away from each other, smiling and goofy.
“Happy New Year, Ro,” Ben whispered in his ear.
“You too, Ben.”
Then Rory hugged him tightly and slowly let go, trailing his hands down Ben’s arms before he giggled. “I’m going to go grab us another drink. I’ll be right back.”
Ben stood bemused and smiling like a dope before he got a sharp elbow to the side.
“What was that back there, Ben? Was I hallucinating?”
“What do you mean?” Ben felt like laughing. It was New Year’s, he was with friends, he’d had some drinks. He was so ridiculously in love.
“You and Rory just kissed.”
Ben grinned. “Yeah. It was midnight.”
“Was this a new thing?”
“Define new,” Ben hedged, his grin falling a bit. He didn’t exactly want to tell Fen he and Rory hadn’t kept their hands, or their mouths, off each other for most of the past two weeks.
“Ben, don’t fuck with me. I’m just worried. I know how you feel about him. Are you and Rory a thing now?”
“We’re kind of… I don’t know, friends with benefits.” Ben shrugged.
“That’s bullshit.” Fen clenched his jaw. “He’s going to end up hurting you. Does he know how you feel?”
“Maybe. I mean, I told him I wanted to be more than friends.” Vaguely. When we were drunk. More than a month ago.
“Have you told him that you want to be with him for real?”
“Not in so many words ’cause he’s gonna say no, and I seriously can’t deal with that. I’m happy, okay? Just let me be happy for as long as I can have it.”
“You’re okay with that? You’re okay just being his friend with benefits?”
Ben sighed. His fizzy, happy buzz was wearing down, and he felt a headache coming on. Rory needed to get back with those drinks immediately. “I have to be. I don’t want to ruin what I do have with him by pushing for something I can’t have.”
“You sure?” Fen said.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
Fen nodded and slung an arm across Ben’s shoulders. “Just looking out for you, bro.”
Ben punched Fen in the stomach lightly. “Love you, man.” Fen slammed his hand to his chest and feigned a heart attack. Ben couldn’t help but to laugh. “Shut up.”
Chapter Ten
BEN AND Rory spent the last day of break at Ben’s mom’s house, eating cookies and reminiscing. Ben had been worried when they first got there; he hadn’t told her h
ow things had changed between Rory and him, and he wasn’t sure exactly how he would tell her.
What was he going to say? “No, we’re not together, Mom, but he does this really hot thing with his tongue sometimes.” Ben and his mom had a great relationship, but it wasn’t the kind of great where they could talk about friends with benefits. To be honest, he really didn’t want it to be that kind of great.
Rory looked nervous too. He tugged on his Henley, the one that drove Ben insane because it was well worn and a touch threadbare, but it fit so perfectly it looked like it was made for him. It draped off his collarbones and skimmed over his abs, and that color did amazing things for Rory’s pale-gold winter skin. Damn thing made Ben want to touch him so desperately.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine. She adores you.” Ben skimmed his fingers over the small of Rory’s back.
Rory smiled shyly. “I hope so. I feel like a kid again.” He chuckled. “It’s so weird how going home will do that.”
Ben didn’t miss the fact that Rory called his house “home.” And it was his home, one he hadn’t been to in a long, long time, but still home. He rubbed Rory’s back again. It was a temptation to keep rubbing, touching the shirt, running his hands up under it to test how different it felt from Rory’s skin. Damn, it’s going to be a long day. One that would most likely end with Rory in Ben’s bed naked. At least, if Ben got his way.
“Hey, Ro,” Ben said quietly before he opened the door.
“Yeah?”
“Can you, like, not ever wear that shirt to work?” Ben bit his bottom lip and drew his fingers across Rory’s tight midsection one more time. Soft fabric and sexy abs were a lethal combination. Ben’s breath caught in his throat.
Rory’s shy smile melted into a sly grin. “How come? You don’t like it?”
“Pretty sure you know that’s not true.”
BEN’S MOM was really happy to see Rory—even happier to see Rory and Ben together again, laughing and teasing each other just like they always had before. She greeted both of them with a hug, a longer one for Rory followed by a full thirty seconds of gushing about how gorgeous he was and how beautiful his hair still looked. Ben didn’t mind that time, although he did kick Rory lightly on the shins for old times’ sake. Rory laughed and pretended to strangle Ben, but they ended up halfway hugging, arms around each other and grinning like morons.
Yeah, his mom gave him a look. Of course she did. Ben tried to ignore it. He knew how they looked; he knew how they acted. Didn’t mean he and Rory were any more of a couple than they’d been before break. Things were just… how they were.
His mom had set out cookies and tea just like she always had when they were kids, and they sat around the coffee table and caught up. Ben loved seeing Rory with his mom, lounging on the couch where he fit right in just like he always had. It kinda hurt at the same time since things weren’t the same. Sure, he and Rory were close again, or at least on their way there, and sure, they were both happy to hang out with his mom and dying to be alone so they could touch each other. But the intent was different. The kisses didn’t come with “I love yous”; the hugs and touches didn’t carry the promise of forever. They weren’t kids anymore, and nothing was as simple as it had been back when life seemed black and white and Rory was the only thing Ben saw. But he still wished for it when he wasn’t too busy being happy with what he already had. Ben shook himself out of it. Just like he’d said on New Year’s. He had to be content with what he could have instead of wanting what he couldn’t.
“You seem so happy, darling,” his mother said when he followed her out to the kitchen. Rory had answered a call from his own mother in the other room.
“I am. He’s exactly the same. It’s nice to have my best friend back.”
Ben’s mother’s smile faded. “I thought you two….” She shook her head. “I thought it was more. The way he looks at you.”
He wished. “There’s… something there, but we’re not together.”
“He still loves you.”
Ben sighed. “That’s what Fen said too. He’s not interested in being more than friends. Believe me.”
Ben’s mother laid her hand on his arm. “Maybe that will change.”
Maybe.
JANUARY AND February passed in a happy blur for Ben. School seemed to run in the background like some program his body had set up to keep going so he didn’t have to pay attention to it. Kids and projects and grading went on as usual, and he barely noticed them. He lived for the evenings, for cooking and laughing, talking, kissing, hours and hours of the hottest damn sex Ben had ever had. Sometimes it felt like he was in this bubble, and it was floating along only a few feet above ground. He couldn’t seem to get his head out of the bubble, and he was afraid that if he tried too hard, it would burst and everything would crash to the ground. A big part of him was waiting for things to crash, but they hadn’t. At least not yet.
The rain came in March. It was cold and wet and miserable outside, but warm in the little cocoon that he’d built with Rory inside of his loft. Ben had never been happier. He woke one dreary Saturday morning with the covers tented around him and Rory. Rory was sucking a row of marks down his spine, his fingers creeping in where Ben was still wet and open from the night before. Ben groaned and arched into his touch.
“Mmm, good morning.”
“Yes. Good.” Rory went to work on his neck and pushed impatiently at his thigh. “Open.”
Ben shifted his top thigh forward, and Rory’s fingers slipped in. He groaned at the fullness and how Rory knew just where to put pressure in all the right places.
“You like that?” Rory murmured against his neck.
“You know I do. Deeper.”
“Like that?” Rory pulled his fingers most of the way out.
“Nooo,” Ben whined. He sounded so desperate, but he didn’t care. “You’re such a damn tease.”
“What do you want me to do?” Rory’s whisper on the back of Ben’s neck gave him shivers; Rory’s fingers teased and dipped in, but never gave Ben the pressure he wanted.
Ben barked out a frustrated laugh and shoved against Rory until he was sprawled on his back laughing as well.
“I think it’s my turn to tease. Don’t move.”
THE MORNING ended with them in the shower together, splashing each other, kissing and talking about what they planned to do for the day. It felt real. It felt like a relationship—and not a friends-with-benefits kind of relationship, but the kind with rings and promises and presents and pajamas on Christmas morning. He didn’t want to question it too hard, push Rory when he wasn’t ready to be pushed, but surely, he wasn’t in it alone. They spent so much time together, and it felt so amazing. Not that new heady, giddy thing they’d had back in December. It was comfortable and good, real and right, and Ben, Jesus, he couldn’t wait for them to really start. To say the words that made it official. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Rory just like they’d said when they were kids. Nothing else made any damn sense.
I love you.
He wanted to say it. He’d been wanting to say it for months, but he’d been so afraid that it wouldn’t be taken the right way. Maybe it was time. Maybe Rory was ready to hear how he felt and just possibly say it back himself. It was in his eyes, wasn’t it? It had to be.
Chapter Eleven
BEN LOVED Friday nights. He’d loved them even more since Friday usually meant he and Rory would curl up on the couch with dinner, then pretend to watch a movie while they made out like high school kids. It had quickly become Ben’s favorite pastime. He left school early and trotted through the grocery store, collecting ingredients for the one thing he could make that might impress Rory.
Should I tell him? He wanted to; he thought it might be the time. Ben bit his lip and tossed a few bell peppers into a bag. His heart raced at the thought, fear and giddy anticipation combined dizzily. Ben whipped out his phone.
“Fen. Hey,” he said when his best friend picked up.
“Wha
t’s up, dude?”
Ben did this kind of painful snort-laugh. “I’m having an emotional crisis, man. I just need someone to tell me I’m doing the right thing.”
“What’s the right thing? What are you doing?”
“I’m at the store buying the ingredients for my enchiladas.”
Fen chuckled. “Ooh, the get-lucky enchiladas? You asking my permission to try and get in Rory’s pants? ’Cause I’m pretty sure that ship sailed a long time ago.”
“I wish it was just that. I… I’m thinking I might tell him. Tonight.”
“Tell him?” Fen sounded confused for a minute. “Wait, like tell him, tell him? Like the L-word tell him?”
“Yeah.” Ben tried to tell himself that his voice didn’t shake when he answered.
“Man, I’ve been saying you should tell him for months.”
“You don’t think it’s pushing too much? What if he freaks out?” He dropped his bag of peppers in the cart and went to look for cheese.
“Rory’s been looking at you with those crazy puppy eyes since way before you two started hooking up. He feels the same. He just needed some time.”
“And you think it’s been enough time?”
“Yes. Tell him.” Ben heard a smile in Fen’s voice.
“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” He paused. “I’m scared. This is, like, a pretty big deal.”
“Nah, you’re just proposing. No problemo.”
Ben’s heart started to race again. “I’m not proposing. Oh God, did you have to say that?” Because really, he wasn’t going to say the words, wasn’t going to ask that question, but he’d kinda planned on telling Rory he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, and really, wasn’t that the same thing? The heart palpitations returned.
