Some Assembly Required

by Lex Chase

  Patrick had been up on his elbows, watching Benji’s slow descent, but he flopped down onto the mattress with a sorrowful moan. “You’re killing me.”

  Benji grinned but didn’t stop kissing him until he reached Patrick’s foot. He licked the instep, making Patrick’s leg jerk as he shrieked in delighted surprise.

  “You’re already dead,” Benji said with a shrug. He met Patrick’s sparkling gaze and then ducked down to continue, starting with the other foot.

  Patrick was ready for him this time and didn’t start when Benji swept his tongue over the tender bottom of his foot. He shivered when Benji moved up to press a soft kiss against the inside of his ankle, skating his lips over the thin skin like a whisper.

  Or maybe more like a prayer. Benji believed in God, and that belief helped reassure him that there would be something even better waiting for him on the other side of those CASA doors. But Patrick didn’t, and that was okay. He just had to believe in Benji. And himself. That would be enough.

  Benji had outlawed energy exchanges, but that didn’t stop him from pouring all of his love and trust into each kiss as he made his way up Patrick’s leg. It wasn’t the same zing as the way they could shift their auras to each other, but he could tell from the way Patrick was mumbling and writhing that it was more than just a normal touch. Maybe he really was able to put his intentions and feelings into his kisses. Why not? He had no idea what was possible here, but that hardly seemed far-fetched. And he really liked the idea of Patrick seeing himself through Benji’s eyes, or through his emotions, at least. What better way to show Patrick how special he was and how much Benji believed in him?

  Patrick was back up on his elbows by the time Benji looked up again. He held eye contact with him when he let his questing fingers softly catch against the skin of Patrick’s scrotum. Patrick lurched like he’d been struck by lightning, his hips coming up off the bed at the unexpected caress.

  “Easy there,” Benji said, his lips curved into a self-satisfied smile. “Wouldn’t want to pull a muscle. Since you’re so out of practice, you know.”

  Patrick swatted at him. His breath came in heavy gasps, which Benji took as a compliment since neither of them actually needed to breathe. If he’d managed to make Patrick forget that, then he was on the right track.

  Emboldened by Patrick’s reaction, he slipped between Patrick’s thighs and nudged his legs up, making a space for himself between them. Before Patrick could question it, he leaned in and licked a firm stripe down his perineum. Patrick’s hips bucked up again, and this time Benji curled his fingers around Patrick’s cock, stroking him slowly as he licked his way along until he could circle his entrance with his tongue.

  “Christ on a motherfucking crutch,” Patrick bit out, the words slurred and at least an octave higher than his usual.

  Benji flicked his wrist on the next upstroke, the way eased by the precome that had been steadily leaking down Patrick’s shaft during Benji’s slow journey down one side of his body and up the other.

  “Okay?” he asked, lifting his head so he could see Patrick. Rimming wasn’t something everyone was comfortable with, though Benji had found that was more true on the giving end than the receiving end. But he didn’t know where Patrick stood on it, and he didn’t want to do anything that made him uncomfortable.

  From the heavy-lidded look Patrick was giving him, though, Benji was fairly certain he wasn’t going to object.

  “Mmm,” Patrick hummed. He let his head fall back onto the pillows but pulled his legs in tighter, giving Benji better access. It was all the answer he needed.

  Benji wasn’t coordinated enough to give a decent hand job while rimming. He gave Patrick another hard stroke and then slid his hand down to help spread his cheeks apart, giving himself unfettered access to Patrick’s hole. A few broad strokes of his tongue against the sensitive flesh had Patrick’s thighs trembling and his voice breaking as he said Benji’s name.

  Benji took his time, opening Patrick up with his tongue before adding his fingers into the mix. He couldn’t fuck him, not without lube, and that wasn’t the type of thing they stocked at CASA. It was a pity, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

  Benji pressed one last sucking kiss to the swollen skin and leaned up on his own elbows, bracing himself so he could swallow Patrick’s length down and still have a finger buried inside him. Patrick hissed out a breath and came before Benji managed to open his throat enough to take him all the way in.

  Benji tightened his lips around Patrick’s cock and worked him through his orgasm. Patrick clenched down around his finger so tightly that he couldn’t have moved it if he’d wanted to. So he didn’t. From Patrick’s shuddery breaths and half-voiced sobs, he was already at the brink of too much sensation—that might send it over into pain instead of pleasure, and that was the last thing Benji wanted.

  “You’re going to be okay,” he said softly, unsure whether Patrick was awake or not.

  Patrick snorted. Awake, then.

  “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m a hell of a lot better than okay,” he said with a snicker.

  Benji sighed. The walls were already going back up. Patrick was building up his defenses.

  “I can’t stay,” Benji said.

  “No, of course not,” he said, and all traces of good humor fled from Patrick’s tone. He rolled over, but Benji didn’t let him get far. He pressed a kiss between Patrick’s tense shoulder blades and scooted forward so he could spoon him. They fit together perfectly like this too.

  “This isn’t a place we’re supposed to linger,” Benji said quietly. “You feel it too, don’t you? You talk about CASA like it’s an entity, but it’s not. It’s just a place. The uneasiness, the energy coiling under your skin sometimes? That’s not the CASA. That’s you. It’s your essence trying to get you to pass through those doors.”

  Patrick made a tight sound, like air hissing through clenched teeth. “And you’re suddenly the expert on the afterlife, are you? Where were you all those years ago? Back when your advice might actually have made a difference?”

  Benji bit his lip to keep from responding. Where had he been all those years ago, when Patrick was a fresh-faced newbie in awe of an all-powerful Guide named Alec?

  He’d been a baby. If he’d even been born. And he knew that was what Patrick wanted him to say. He wanted to keep it light, to keep it easy between them tonight. “No strings attached” wasn’t possible, but he could tell from the way Patrick was holding himself taut, angling himself away from Benji, that he was trying to sever them as neatly as possible.

  Well, fuck that.

  “You’re a good person, Patrick Bryant.”

  Patrick choked, his body going from tense to ramrod straight in a millisecond.

  “You deserve good things. You deserve a second chance, and a third one. You deserve all the chances you need to get it right, because you are kind and compassionate. You’re a beautiful person inside and out, and I’m so sorry that Alec shook your confidence in yourself. If you could see what I see, Patrick, you’d have moved on years ago.”

  Patrick rubbed his face against the RIMINI pillow, but not fast enough to hide his tears. He didn’t pull away when Benji tucked his face against the back of his neck, tears prickling in his own eyes as well. He’d watched Patrick slip a similar pillow out of someone’s cart awhile back, replacing it with a firmer MESSINA model because the man was an alcoholic who frequently went to bed so smashed that he passed out from it. Like the Impression that had saved him, he would have suffocated with his face pressed into the too-soft pillow one night if Patrick hadn’t intervened.

  How could a man who spent his life saving others think he wasn’t worth anything?

  “If there’s only one thing you take away from our time together, I want it to be this,” he said quietly. He could feel Patrick’s chest rise under his hand and stay that way—he was holding his breath. “You don’t exist because of CASA. And I know that’s hard to accept because we don’t k
now why we’re here, not really. But CASA isn’t the thing that’s tethering you here. That void you feel inside your chest? It isn’t being filled by CASA any more than it could be filled by me. It’s you, Patrick. It’s a space inside you for you, and you need to fill it before you can move on. That’s the secret. That’s why we see Impressions smiling as they step out of those doors. They’re at peace.”

  Patrick had started breathing again, ragged, soft snuffles that he tried to drown out by pressing his face against the pillow.

  “You know why? It’s not because whatever they see past those doors is so awesome. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I hope it is awesome. I hope it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. But it wouldn’t matter, because once you’re at peace, anywhere is utopia.”

  He kissed Patrick’s bare shoulder and pulled the coverlet up around them. It was dry, but the mattress underneath them was still soggy, though it hardly mattered. They were both out in seconds.

  Chapter Sixteen: SACCO

  Hand in hand, they walked the aisles of CASA one last time. Instead of a hurried pace, they took every second of time they could squeeze out of a leisurely stroll. They occasionally paused to admire various ruined home furnishings and pretended they too were shopping for an apartment they’d never share. A crew had appeared earlier that morning to start hauling things away, presumably to a gigantic fleet of Dumpsters outside.

  “That’s the best sofa,” Benji said as he patted the SACCO’s upholstery. “It would go awesome in the den.”

  Patrick nodded and played along. The wet carpet squished under his feet. “And those throw pillows would add just the right pop of color.”

  Benji leaned into him, and Patrick wrapped an arm around his waist. They hummed thoughtfully, and Patrick treasured the tenderness. He rested his chin on the top of Benji’s head. “If we’re going to pick out window treatments, there better be a goddamn ring on my finger.”

  Benji stiffened in his grasp. Patrick tensed as well. In all of his fight to make it a positive farewell, he’d just dicked it up.

  Benji wiped at his nose and sniffed. “I didn’t think you were the marrying kind,” he said softly.

  Patrick arched a brow as Benji looked up at him. He was smiling brightly despite the tears that glazed his eyes. Patrick tried to collect his thoughts. “This isn’t about me,” he said, urging him on through the showrooms. “This is your day.”

  Benji nodded and smudged away the water collecting in his lashes.

  “Come on, now. You said so yourself. I’m going to be okay.” He would hold on to those words for years to come. Benji’s laughter and love would remain in his nonexistent heart. His kindness would be his persistent memory that he would persevere.

  The future was a long line of unknowns for Patrick. What would happen the day the CASA closed for good? The day it was demolished? Where would he go then? What about Agnes and Karin? They were the only family he had known.

  The unknowns were there, the reminders that things in life were never fair, nor were things in death. He smiled upon Benji, and when Benji returned the affection, he quickly looked away, trying to collect himself.

  As they reached the long row of cash registers, the morning light slowly crept across the floor in long, flat golden pools.

  Patrick shivered. He patted his chest, trying to slow his pounding heart. It was so stupid. He didn’t have a heart. Or any other internal organs, for that matter. He believed he had them because of the psychological sense he needed them.

  Benji tightened his grip on his hand, and Patrick made a slight nod.

  They reached the final steps next to the corralled shopping carts and stopped by the cheerful blue-and-yellow umbrella stands. Patrick laid his hands on Benji’s shoulders and then rubbed down the length of his arms. He said nothing as Benji watched him. All the while, Patrick silently committed him to memory.

  Benji pressed closer, their bodies meshing one last time and their energies singing to each other. He reached out and grazed his fingers through the short scruff at the back of Patrick’s neck. Benji’s smile would be the one thing he’d miss most. That and his relentless optimism that CASA can indeed be a place of happiness.

  The store would be a little emptier without him, but as Patrick lost himself in those big brown eyes, he knew Benji’s influence would live on. He looped his arms around Benji’s waist, pulling him tighter as their auras transferred back and forth. He savored the love between them.

  Benji gave him an impish grin. “Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to give me an aura charge for the road?”

  Patrick puffed out his bottom lip in a mimicry of undue hardship. “How dare you make such an unseemly accusation. I’ve been nothing but a gentleman to you, cupcake.”

  Benji curled his lip, chuckling. “Do you ever listen to yourself?”

  Patrick leaned in and planted a kiss on Benji’s forehead. He inhaled his spicy scent. “Nope. And never will,” he mumbled against Benji’s skin.

  As he pulled away to regard him, Benji got the drop on him by yanking him close to possess his mouth. Patrick tensed in surprise at Benji’s newfound forwardness, but then he relaxed into it. He cupped Benji’s cheek with one hand and held him by the waist with the other. Benji parted his lips, and Patrick answered the invitation, tasting his sweetness.

  The nostalgia of their dinner date swept across his mind. He had been surprised then in the moment of passion in a human form. Now, he would treasure their last kiss together. His knees buckled with the shock of intense pleasure darting through every nerve. Benji held fast to him; despite his slight stature, he managed to keep Patrick from toppling.

  They pulled away, panting for breath, and their foreheads beaded with a slight sheen of sweat fresh from spiritual climax.

  Patrick croaked with a ragged laugh. “Jackass.”

  Benji winked. “It’s your fault. You suggested it.”

  “Ah. Blaming others for your actions?”

  “I have this asshole boyfriend that does it all the time. So annoying.”

  Sucking in a contented sigh, Patrick gave Benji’s rear a firm pat. “There will be other asshole boyfriends,” he said.

  Benji nestled his head under Patrick’s chin and hummed. “Why do you think there would be others?”

  “I don’t know.” Patrick snorted. “Are you done with assholes?”

  Benji gave him a wink. Patrick had no idea what it meant. “I didn’t say I was done, did I?”

  “Okay. Sure. Uh-huh, Yoda.”

  “Everything happens for a reason,” Benji said and sighed sleepily.

  Patrick swallowed. If he said any more, he’d lose his mettle. The words Benji had uttered while their heads shared the same pillow echoed through his head. Knowing he was loved like that, that someone thought he was worthy of that kind of devotion and fervent belief—it lightened something in him he hadn’t known was burdensome, even though it had been hard to hear. He glanced at the pneumatic doors and then back at Benji. He smiled as his chest expanded with a deep calming breath. Rubbing at his eye again with his thumb, he couldn’t fake that it was just something in his eye anymore. He cleared his throat and nodded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Do you want Karin to walk you out? She’s better at this,” Patrick said as his voice embarrassingly cracked. Dammit. He had to keep it together. He couldn’t stand for Benji to pass on feeling guilty for leaving.

  Benji took his hand, lacing their fingers together. He gently kissed Patrick’s knuckles. “I’m sure you’re just as good at it.”

  Patrick snorted, trying to choke down the building lump in his throat. He nodded to avoid fucking up anything with useless words.

  Benji turned to the doors, the sunlight on his face banishing the deathly cast they all had. His eyes seemed to catch a spark of something, losing their murkiness and becoming brilliant with life.

  Patrick pressed his fingers to his lips. Once he would have faked yawning to save face. Now it was to keep fr
om outward gasping. So this was what it was like for Karin? Watching Impressions come back to life right in front of her? Seeing them off as they gained clarity that CASA wasn’t the end—it was just an errand on the way to something bigger?

  The rays filtered through Benji’s dark hair, and Patrick would have made a joke about it, but Benji looked like an angel come to Earth.

  Stay. Patrick wished inside his mind.

  Stay.

  Stay.

  Stay. Stay. Stay!

  He couldn’t keep Benji anymore. He had been selfish, arrogant, and outright malicious. Patrick cleared his throat, and Benji startled.

  “You okay?” Benji asked and took Patrick by the hand.

  Patrick nodded and had to clear his throat again before he could speak. “Yeah.” He smiled weakly. “You should go. I’m pulling a double today and got a fuckton of prep to do.”

  Benji knitted his brows in that adorable way that was like a punch to the gut. It was at that first expression Patrick knew he was done for, even if he didn’t realize it at the time. Benji nibbled at his bottom lip. “You’ll remember what we talked about, right?”

  Patrick smiled. “Absolutely,” he lied. “Make sure to tell all your new angel buddies about me.”

  “Angels?” Benji snorted. “Since when do you believe in angels?”

  “Since I met yo—”

  Benji whacked him on the arm. “Are you getting all Hallmark on me?”

  Patrick reeled back and feigned grave injury. “How could you accuse me of such a thing?” He playfully checked over his arm for broken bones. “I think I’ll live.”

  They blinked at each other and then shook their heads.

  “Living jokes really do get old,” Benji said as he glanced to the doors.

  “You know what gets old?” Patrick said, crossing his arms. “Coffee. Coffee gets old. So go on. Get. Before Karin hogs all the creamer.”

  Benji turned his back to Patrick, fully facing the doors. Patrick gnashed his teeth but forced himself to relax. He had to watch. He would have to watch this happen for many more years to come.