Something Like Winter

by Jay Bell

  “That and a hell of a lot more.” Ben laughed, like he was joking, but they both knew he wasn’t. “Uh, so see you tomorrow then.”

  He practically ran for the door, probably embarrassed by his confession, but Tim didn’t mind. It was quite the compliment. If Tim was a girl… Well, that was just a weird thought. But if things were different, he would be thrilled that someone like Ben was interested in him. At least, more thrilled than he already was.

  * * * * *

  Ben was the first thing Tim saw every morning, since the painkillers made him sleep deeply. Usually Tim was roused, back aching from sleeping on the leather couch in the den, and Ben would look at him in that funny way—like this was all too good to be true. Then Ben would hurry off and make breakfast. Tim was served pancakes the first day, fried eggs the next. Today was only frozen waffles, so he must have really been in a rush.

  “It’s nine thirty,” Tim said when Ben set the plate on the coffee table. “Aren’t you missing school?”

  “Well, yeah.” Ben checked his watch. “It’s okay though. Allison, my best friend, has the inside scoop. They only take attendance in second period; otherwise they’d get false positives from the people who are late in the morning. Before or after that, I’m in the clear. Sort of. Teachers will start asking questions eventually, which is why I’m going to most of my classes.”

  Tim gave him the smile, the one usually reserved for girls who did something he liked. That always caused them to melt, and to his amusement, it worked on Ben as well. Seeing a guy react like that was somehow more satisfying. Tim had already won the affection of more girls than he had time for, but getting another guy to look so flustered felt like a new achievement.

  “At least tomorrow is Saturday. Have any big plans?”

  “Well, maybe,” Ben said.

  “I see.” Tim put on a pouty face. “You’re leaving me here to fend for myself.”

  “I was going to cook you a real meal. No frozen pizzas or quick breakfasts. But come to think of it, I might be too busy. I can’t waste all my time on straight boys.” Ben winked. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while,” Tim said. Of course he had no intention of doing so, but he loved flirting.

  “Like what?” Ben pressed.

  “I’ll let you smell my socks.” A pillow smacked into Tim’s face, and when he moved it away, Ben was on his way to the door. Tim called after him. “And I’ll let you keep using my car, you thief!”

  So it went. The days were lonely until Ben was out of school. Then Ben would spend all his free time with him, Tim grateful for every second because the days could get long and boring. Besides, Ben took good care of him. The cooking and cleaning was enough, but he also did laundry, even though Tim hadn’t asked him to. Ben ran baths for him too, Tim having to bathe with the cast propped up on the tub’s edge. Once, during their first weekend together, he even let Ben keep him company in the bathroom while he bathed. The shower curtain had been pulled, of course, but not completely, since the way Ben snuck looks at his body definitely wasn’t bad for Tim’s ego.

  In a way, they were like an old married couple not interested in sex anymore. At least Tim wasn’t. Not even thoughts of scoring with Krista could rouse his appetite. Maybe the pills were to blame for that. The constant drowsiness was starting to annoy him, so after being on them nearly two weeks, Tim decided to quit. He was out of the pills anyway, and not having them refilled would give Ben less to complain about, since Tim had fallen asleep early the last couple of nights.

  When the phone rang Thursday afternoon, Tim grinned as he reached for it. Most likely it was Ben, worrying about what they were going to have for dinner. “What’s up, sweet cheeks?”

  “Hey man, where you been?”

  The voice was unmistakable, possessing the smooth confidence of the rich and popular.

  “Hey! Darryl! Didn’t Krista tell you?”

  “Krista? Don’t you mean sweet cheeks?”

  Tim choked but managed to make it sound like a laugh. “Yeah. I thought she’d be calling. Anyway, she didn’t fill you in?”

  “She did. Your ankle is jacked up, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Krista had called last week, but Tim had only told half the truth, saying his parents weren’t letting him go out. He wasn’t sure why he lied. Maybe because he was enjoying the easy evenings with Ben. Now the idea of hanging out with the guys, sneaking a few beers after school at Darryl’s place, sounded nice. As did the attention Krista normally lavished on him.

  “We thought you’d be back by now,” Darryl pressed. “Bryce broke his arm last year and only got a few days off.”

  Tim probably wouldn’t have gotten that much if his parents had been in town. “I’m milking it, man. I should be back on Monday.”

  “Krista says she hasn’t seen you. Want me to send her over for a get-well hand job?”

  Tim snorted. “I mentioned my parents are Catholic, right?”

  “Ah,” Darryl responded as if this explained everything.

  “Besides, she’s a prude.”

  Darryl laughed. “Surely she’s not that much of a prude! Maybe you’ve been playing it too safe.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Tim’s cock twitched at the idea. Yup, those pills had definitely kept his libido down.

  “All right, get well soon, I guess. Ciao!”

  “Peace.”

  Tim hung up and sat in silence. Something about the call made him nervous. Hearing from Darryl was like a wake-up call. His parents were due back on Sunday. After that, it was back to reality. Playing house with Ben had been fun, but Tim couldn’t see this world and the one he had known coming together.

  Unless he could bring Ben with him somehow, get his friends to appreciate him. But how? He couldn’t imagine Bryce being moved by Ben’s singing, and exposing Ben to Stacy Shelly and Darryl Briscott wouldn’t be doing him any favors. Tim didn’t mind them, but by comparison, Ben was too nice and innocent.

  Except for the gay thing, which was pretty wild, but that was another problem. Ben didn’t keep a low profile, and if Tim’s parents found out, they would flip. No, there was only the weekend left, and then it was as good as over. All he could do was try to enjoy what time remained.

  Despite his best efforts, Tim felt moody when Ben showed up. The fridge was getting empty, so Ben had brought fast food with him, but Tim only picked at it. Afterwards they hung out on the couch, Tim increasingly sick of being there. Without the pills, it wasn’t just sex that he missed. Painting, running, driving—anything sounded better than more television. He switched off the TV and tossed aside the remote with a sigh.

  “You okay?” Ben asked.

  “Not really.” Tim pushed himself up. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”

  “The way you swing around on those crutches, I’d never keep up with you.” Ben chewed his lip, searching for inspiration. “How about the back patio? You guys have a nice yard. We can hang out there.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Tim wasn’t sold on the idea until they were outside. A nice stretch of lawn—made secluded by strategically placed trees instead of a fence—awaited them. The bugs were humming a mellow tune, nearly drowning out the neighborhood air conditioners that clicked on and off in the distance. Ben helped Tim get settled into one of the wooden lawn chairs, adjusting the pillows for him. Then Ben lit the Tiki torches, and in the dwindling daylight, Tim found himself relaxing.

  “Grab me a beer from inside, and this will be paradise.”

  Ben hesitated. “Won’t your parents notice?”

  “I don’t care. Get one for yourself too.”

  Ben came back with only one can of beer, which he handed to Tim.

  “Thanks.” He cracked it open and took a sip. Yeah, not bad at all.

  They sat together in silence—just what Tim needed. That’s something else Ben was good at. He could read Tim’s moods like nobody else. Krista was a nonstop chatter box, but Ben was content to ju
st hang out with him. Not that it was fair to keep comparing them, but it was hard not to. If things were just a little different, if Tim was gay or if Ben was a girl, he would be walking down the halls with Ben hanging off his arm. The thought made him laugh.

  “What?” Ben asked.

  “Nothing. Just thinking about school.”

  “You miss it?”

  “Are you kidding?” Tim took another swig and set the beer down on the patio. “I wouldn’t go again if I had a choice.”

  Ben scrunched up his face. “Weird.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, I just figured that you’d like it more. I mean, you’re popular.”

  Tim drew out his reply to make it all the more sarcastic. “Which is so… very… fun.”

  “Isn’t it?” Ben challenged. “I have one real friend, and hanging out with Allison is the only thing that makes school tolerable. Without her, I’d go crazy.”

  “So what’s your point?”

  “Well, you have way more friends, so it would be like having more Allisons. That sounds like a good time to me.”

  Tim laughed, but inside he wondered if he was missing something. Multiply the Darryls and Bryces, or even the Carlas and Brodys from back home, and it sounded like one giant headache. His friends kept him entertained and made him feel important, but they could also be tiring. They were just as demanding in their needs as he was, and probably felt the same way about him.

  “Let me tell you a secret,” Tim said. “Popular people are insecure as hell. All they worry about is staying on top and being loved by everybody. To do that, they obsess about what everyone thinks of them. Most are downright desperate for any vote of approval they can get.”

  “Present company excluded.”

  Tim was sure Ben meant it as a compliment and not a jab, but he shook his head. “I’m just as bad, and I can’t even tell you why. Popular kids are just a powerful union of needy, insecure losers. Remember that next time someone stupid like Bryce mouths off to you. You’re better than them, Benjamin. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”

  Ben looked embarrassed, but he flashed Tim a goofy smile. And it made Tim sad, because he had been telling the truth. Come Monday, his life would center around keeping up appearances, because he needed people to love him. Maybe he didn’t get enough from his parents, or maybe he was just pathetic, but Tim lived for admiration. He’d been milking Ben for it the past two weeks, which probably wasn’t fair.

  Tim rubbed his neck and sighed. He needed to go running. “Once this cast is off, I’ll never sit down again.”

  “Do you want a massage?”

  Tim was about to give a snarky response, thinking it was their usual fruitless flirtation, but Ben looked serious.

  “Put the seatback down and flip over,” Ben said. “Trust me, I give great massages.”

  Why not? Tim leaned the chair flat and rolled over, the foot of his cast banging against the patio, but he was doing so much better that it barely hurt. Ben sat on the side of the chair and started kneading the muscles at the base of Tim’s neck.

  “So you’ve done this a lot?” Tim asked, wanting to keep their conversation going.

  “Nope. First time.”

  Tim lifted his head. “But you said—”

  “Yeah, well, I say a lot of things.” Ben laughed and started kneading harder, forcing Tim to put his head back down.

  Maybe Ben lacked experience, but the massage sure felt good! He worked the area between Tim’s shoulder blades next, then squeezed Tim’s deltoids a few times, slowly kneading his way toward the lower back. Tim shifted in the seat, his shorts tight.

  Fuck.

  He was hard or very nearly there. Another guy was touching him, and his stupid dick had responded. Part of him was tempted to roll over. He knew it would make Ben happy but—holy shit!—what did this say about him?

  “All right,” Tim said. “That’s enough.”

  Ben kept massaging.

  “Fucking stop!”

  Ben’s hands lifted away. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” Tim kept his head turned away from Ben, his line of vision nearly level with the beer can dripping condensation on the patio stones. Beyond, the flame of a Tiki torch danced, sending strange shadows across the grass. Tim scowled. Maybe things had gone too far. He pushed himself up on his elbows. “I’m tired,” he said, without looking at Ben. “You should go.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Ben stood up, but he didn’t go anywhere. What did he expect? To be walked to the door? When Tim didn’t move, still didn’t look at him, Ben took the hint. The sound of his footsteps went to the house. Tim heard the sliding glass door open, but didn’t hear it close. He could picture Ben standing there, looking back at him and wondering what he had done wrong. He must have been right, because Ben spoke.

  “So, do you still want me to come by tomorrow?”

  No! Of course not. That’s why I’m sending you away! But Tim couldn’t bring his lips to shape these words. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

  When Tim heard the car drive away a few minutes later, he got up and struggled with his crutches. Once inside he would jack off. He hadn’t done that since he was injured, which was crazy. Pent up hormones could make just about anything sound like a good idea.

  Tomorrow would be different. Tim would start taking care of the house himself, become self-sufficient again. Ben was a good guy, but he wasn’t his freaking girlfriend. Tim wouldn’t punish Ben for what was his own fault, but after this weekend, playtime was over.

  Chapter Six

  Ben showed up the next day with an armful of groceries. Tim followed him out to the driveway, determined to help carry in the rest, though Ben wouldn’t let him. Back in the kitchen, he helped put everything away. Ben didn’t stay long after that, having promised to eat dinner with his family. A couple of hours later, Ben called, anger in his voice.

  “My stupid sister figured out I was skipping and ratted me out.”

  “Oh.” Tim’s response wasn’t the best, but he had mixed emotions. The night wouldn’t be as much fun without Ben, but maybe it wouldn’t be as confusing either.

  “It’s not just today,” Ben explained. “I won’t be able to come over all weekend.”

  “What can you do, man? That’s life.”

  They didn’t stay on the phone long after that. Tim microwaved some frozen burritos, then sat at the dining room table and ate without really tasting them. His head was buzzing from too many thoughts that, despite his best effort, kept circling back to Ben.

  After dinner Tim grabbed his sketchbook and went to the back patio, lighting the torches and trying to recreate the mood from yesterday. Somehow it just wasn’t the same, but he sat there and drew a little. Next he wrote, trying to get his thoughts down and becoming increasingly aggravated. Then he saw the butterfly fluttering through the air with lazy ease, as if life had always been simple and without consequence. Thinking of Ben again, Tim switched to poetry, and the words finally flowed, his feelings easier to express in the abstract, especially when wrapped up in Spanish. Tim found the language beautiful, the words exotic enough to be almost mystical, their power undiminished by constant exposure.

  His mind and soul satisfied, Tim slowly crutched upstairs and flipped through his old porn magazines. He relieved more tension that way, although he felt frustrated with the familiarity of the images, how all the women with fake breasts and men with pumped-up gym bodies looked the same. At least being upstairs meant he could sleep in his own bed again, which was ten times more comfortable than the couch.

  Tim’s dreams that night weren’t restful. He found himself in Corey’s room again, except bizarrely, Ben was sitting there talking to him. But he wasn’t really speaking. He was singing, every word a melody. When the dream reached its climax, Ben sang the same words over and over again until they became a song with one lyrical line: You can kiss me, if you want. You can kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, if you waaaant. Finally Tim gave into temptation and leane
d forward, jolting awake the moment their lips touched.

  Enough was enough. Tim called Krista later that day.

  * * * * *

  Ben had once said the cast would be good for getting sympathy. As it turned out, he was right. Tim was back on the leather couch, but now the slender form next to him kept giggling and saying “Timmy!” in chastising tones. He loved kissing Krista’s neck to make her squeal. More than that, he loved how easily he got hard in response to this, the doubts about his sexuality now distant.

  “Let me sign it!” Krista said.

  “And then?” Tim asked.

  “Um…”

  Ugh, did he have to write a script for her? “Will you give me a reward?” Tim prompted.

  “Oh!” Krista stared. “What do you mean?”

  Seriously? “I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do for me.”

  “Oh. Oooh!”

  There we go. Now she was finally getting it. Krista took one of the markers from the coffee table to write on his cast. His irritation with her had made his hard-on go down, but he would get there again. He kept jiggling his foot, making Krista laugh more, when he heard a noise in the hallway. Tim glanced over and saw Ben, eyes wide before he backed away from the door. Good thing, because Krista had heard him too.

  Tim struggled to his feet. “Be right back.”

  “Is someone here?” Krista asked, looking worried.

  “It’s just my neighbor. He promised to bring something by. Wait here.”

  Tim grabbed his crutches and hurried to the hallway. Not only was Ben there, but he had a dog with him. Tim brushed by them, motioning with his head that Ben should follow. He didn’t stop until he reached the front door, which should be hint enough.

  “What are you doing here?” he hissed. “I thought you were grounded?”

  “I snuck out,” Ben said.

  “Jesus, man! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “Sorry. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “That you did.” The dog made a grumbling noise to get his attention. Tim had wanted a dog for ages, but to his parents, that was like asking them to make another kid. “Who’s this?” he asked, reaching down to pet him.