Marked by Him: Rough Love Part 4

by Greene, Leighton

  No physical reminders.

  It’s disconcerting.

  When Ben complains, Xander just smiles his Xander smile and makes non-committal responses.

  “And we never talked,” Ben says. “That thing you wanted to talk about, with me hitting things.” If Ben is honest with himself, he’s been putting off talking. Like most guys, he has an intrinsic aversion to the very phrase ‘We need to talk.’ But he’s manning up. “So? What did you want to talk about?”

  “What thing?”

  That does it. Xander looks serious. “Yeah, we do need to discuss that.”

  They talk in bed. Xander’s choice. They get sidetracked again by fucking, but Ben is so weirded out by the stuff Xander isn’t doing — no pain, not even a tiny nibble — that he doesn’t forget about the talking this time.

  “So?” he says, poking Xander in the arm afterwards.

  “Mph. Okay, okay.” Xander rolls on to his side and looks at him. “I’ve figured it out,” he says. “What I want to do when we do the thing we we’re gonna do.”

  “You’re lucky I have a vague understanding of your brain workings, Romano,” is all Ben says.

  “I’ve figured out how I want to terrify you. Better?”

  “Much,” Ben grins.

  “First of all, I’m going to say things to you. But I want you to know, I don’t really mean them. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Sticks and stones, Alexander.”

  “You can always safe word if you don’t like it. Also…I’m going to be pretty physical with you.”

  Ben looks at him, smirking. “Because that’s never happened before.”

  “You’re probably going to get angry. And even if you don’t, you’re probably going to want to fight back because of the fear, when it comes on.”

  Ben doesn’t say anything to that, although he’s thinking, Yeah. Right. I’m gonna be soooo scared.

  “I want you to know that’s okay,” Xander continues. “Even if you try to hit me during it, that’s okay.”

  “Okay.” Ben takes it in. “Wait, what? What do you mean, hit you?”

  “I mean, you’re probably going to try to punch me. Or at least the wall again.” Xander isn’t kidding, although his eyes are sparkling. “I’d kind of prefer if you could hit me, though, because that plaster guy was expensive, what with the big tip and all.”

  “But,” Ben says, feeling stupid, “I’m not allowed.” He stares at Xander, trying to twist his perceptions like a kaleidoscope that might one day make a proper picture. All he can think of saying are things like But you said and But that’s violence.

  “Normally, no. Hitting people is not a good thing to do. But I’m granting you a special dispensation for this.”

  “You are so unbearably Catholic, Alexander,” Ben says, but he’s only half listening to his own words. Hitting Xander is not something he even wants to think about, and this conversation is making him feel uneasy.

  “I think we can all agree that the Pope has reserved a very special part of Hell for me,” Xander says. “But if you want to have a theological conversation, maybe we can wait till we’ve thrashed this out.” He grins at his own bad pun.

  “I don’t want to hit you,” Ben says, frowning. “Ever.”

  “I know. I’m just saying. During this thing, don’t feel bad if you do.”

  “I’m not going to.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I’m just saying it’s okay if it happens.”

  “I really don’t think it’s a consideration,” Ben says, sighing.

  Xander has the temerity to laugh. “So I’m assuming you’ve never been mugged or physically threatened before?”

  “Nope. I’ve been lucky. And I’ve never started a fight I couldn’t finish.”

  “That’s…not really something to brag about.” But Xander leans over and kisses Ben. “And there’s nothing I should know about? No triggers you haven’t mentioned?”

  “Nope. Trigger-free and loving it,” Ben replies dismissively.

  “I’m going to cut you, Benjamin,” Xander says quietly. “You understand that?”

  Ben rolls his eyes. “I’m the guy who bought you the knife, aren’t I? Sure I understand. You worry too much.”

  And that’s the end of the conversation, because Ben cuts it off by kissing Xander. But Ben remembers that talk afterwards, after they do the thing. Because Xander was making sure, he realizes later. Making sure nothing unexpected was going to come up.

  And Ben just didn’t get it at the time.

  * * *

  The next night in bed, Xander has butterfly band-aids on his chest. Three of them, covering three short cuts, each deeper than the last.

  “What the fuck is this?” Ben demands. He’s actually jealous. It’s embarrassing.

  “What?” Xander asks, too intent on rubbing his cock against Ben’s hip. “Oh, that. Nothing. Practice.”

  Ben looks incredulous.

  “You think I’m going to cut you without knowing what I’m doing?” Xander says, breathing heavily as the friction grows. “That would be dangerous.”

  “Why can’t you practice on me?”

  “Move your leg so I can – yeah,” Xander sighs. “Like that. That’s good. And because I need to know how much is too much. Now be quiet.” He kisses Ben to make sure, starts rutting against him, holding their cocks together in a tight hand. When he cums he opens his mouth wide around where he normally bites, all wet and hot, and Ben starts shooting too and braces for the pain, but Xander makes a noise he’s never heard him make before, and pulls away, gasping.

  “Just bite me,” Ben says when they’ve recovered. “Why won’t you bite me?”

  “I bet you were one of those kids who demanded to eat their candy in the store before it was bought and paid for,” Xander says sleepily.

  “I was not,” Ben snaps. Although he does remember one time – but that’s not the point. “I like it when you bite me, and you haven’t done it in a long time.”

  “Just wait, Benjamin.”

  Xander falls asleep quickly. Ben glares mutinously at the ceiling for a long time.

  * * *

  “But you’ve cut people before,” Ben says the next morning. “Right?”

  Xander blearily looks at the clock. “Have you been having a conversation with me all night while I’ve been asleep?” he asks into the pillow.

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Yes.”

  “So why do you need prac –”

  “Oh my God,” Xander groans, and then his voice starts getting louder and louder as he talks. “Because every blade is different. And I have to make sure that the cuts aren’t deep enough to scar. And I have to definitely make sure I don’t cut so deep that you lose too much blood and go into shock. And I have to check how long they’ll take to heal up. Because I’m not going to do something if I’m not aware of the risks involved. Because I fucking care about you and I don’t want to cause you permanent damage!”

  “I was just asking,” Ben says, hurt, although the idea of him bleeding out in Xander’s apartment gives him pause. Or at least, the idea that Xander has even considered it.

  Xander makes a big noise of frustration and pulls the pillow over his head. He pulls it down again a few seconds later and says, “I’m sorry. Ask all the questions you want. You’re the one who’s going to get cut, after all.”

  Ben shifts over and pulls Xander’s hand into his own. “Why were you so weird about it just then?” he asks.

  “It felt like…you were trying to get into my head.”

  “I’m just curious,” Ben tells him. “About everything. I trust you. And I’m glad you take precautions.”

  Xander squeezes his hand. “More sleep?” he asks hopefully.

  “Why aren’t you hurting me now when we have sex?” Ben asks. He hears Xander stifle a sigh.

  “Two reasons,” he says. “One, I want a clean canvas to work on when I cut you. No marks or bruises underneath. And two, so i
t’ll be better on the day, more intense.”

  Better for whom, Ben wonders darkly. “I miss it,” he says.

  “So do I,” Xander says fervently.

  “Maybe we could just –”

  “No.”

  “You don’t even know what I was –”

  “Hell yes I do.” He rolls over on the pillow to look at Ben, laughter in his eyes. “Just let it go, Ballard. It’ll all come back soon enough.”

  “But I don’t have anything to remember you by,” Ben says dolefully. “During the day.” He sees a fire flare up in Xander’s eyes, and smiles. “Gotcha.”

  “Oh, I’ll give you something to remember today,” Xander growls.

  Unfortunately, Ben thinks later, shifting around in his hard chair during at his group writing critique, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind. His ass is still sore. But Xander was right. He’s remembering.

  “Oh, hey, Ben Ballard, right?” asks one of the guys during the break. Ben is drinking coffee and trying to eat a stale donut, but it’s not happening. He tosses it towards the trash can.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” he says.

  The guy holds out his hand. “We kind of met at a party,” he says. “I’m a friend of Adam’s. Although I don’t know if we really met, or just...” he trails off, his grin faltering as he sees Ben’s face.

  Ben forces himself to shake hands. “Hi.”

  “It’s Greg,” the guy says.

  “Yeah. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing really,” he says, shrugging. “Just saying hi. Adam told me you’re with Alexander Romano; I was just wondering how you two were doing.”

  Ben thinks he must have learned a thing or two from Xander, because Greg takes a full step back at the sight of his face. “Adam?” Ben asks. “Oh, sure. Yeah. How’s he doing?”

  “Over in Hawaii right now,” Greg says, blinking. “Surfing.”

  Don’t start thinking there’s anything special there just because he kisses it all better when he’s finished. Adam’s voice echoes in his head, still. Ben hasn’t told Xander about it, because it’s not something Xander needs to know.

  “Right.” Ben can feel more teeth than are necessary in his smile.

  “I’ll - let you get back to it,” Greg says, stepping away.

  * * *

  Xander calls Ben as he’s driving home from the critique group, but before Xander can say anything, Ben asks him if he knows a Greg, who’s shopping around a shitty horror script about mega-squids.

  “Um. Maybe?”

  “He’s a friend of Adam’s,” Ben says shortly.

  Silence. And then, “Oh, yeah. Greg. I know him.”

  “He’s in my critique group.”

  “Oh.”

  “He asked about us. Mentioned Adam. Apparently Adam’s in Hawaii.”

  Ben hears Xander sigh. “Why are you so hung up on Adam?”

  “I’m not,” Ben snaps.

  “I can’t just disappear him, you know. Much as I’d like to.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s not like I’m still in contact with him,” Xander points out.

  “I know.” Ben pulls viciously into his turn off lane, ignoring horns blaring.

  “What are you doing?” Xander asks, alarmed.

  “Driving.”

  “Just be careful,” Xander mutters.

  There’s silence again and then Ben relents. “So let me guess. The Icy Bear needs a coffee?”

  “Yeah. And -”

  “One of those cookie things.” Ben smiles to himself and lets the next car merge into his lane without honking at it, even though it’s way too close.

  Xander is saying: “If it’s any consolation, I think I’m growing out of the cookie phase. I’ve only had two this week.”

  “You don’t have to give me a cover story,” Ben grins. “I’ll be there soon. With coffee and cookies.”

  “The Icy Bear thanks you.” He can hear Xander’s smile, and it warms him all through.

  “See you soon.” Ben shakes his head after he hangs up. This romantic stuff is embarrassing.

  He buys four cookies for Xander.

  * * *

  “And you’re sure there’s nothing I need to know about?” Xander asks again.

  Ben wants to curse, a really filthy-bad word or phrase that will make Xander blink and look shocked and disapproving, but he doesn’t. “For the sixty-fifth time,” he says instead, through clenched teeth. “No.”

  Xander has been at him, regularly, asking about things that might have happened to Ben, bullying or accidents or abuse. Just in case, he keeps saying. Just in case. Ben asked him once if persistent badgering counts, but Xander didn’t think it was funny.

  “I’m not going to freak out,” Ben says each time. “I promise.”

  “Okay,” Xander says finally. “But you know it’s not just the physical stuff I need to know about, right? If there’s anything – if you have any doubts or thoughts I should know about, you’d tell me, right? Honesty Policy.”

  “There’s nothing,” Ben says. “I promise.”

  It’s not a lie, exactly. Ben just doesn’t think Xander needs to know about some stuff. Doesn’t need to know that Ben, very occasionally, thinks about Adam, and what he said in the kitchen at the party. Because Ben didn’t believe it at the time, and still doesn’t, so it’s a moot point.

  For Ben, waiting to heal up from all his marks is torturous. Sometimes he tries to provoke Xander into biting him or using the crop or cane on him, or spanking him, or pinching him, or something, anything, but Xander is like some fucking Zen Master now and never loses his control. Although Ben counts it as a draw when he sees that particularly hungry look in Xander’s eyes, like he wants to eat him all up.

  “You’re like the Big Bad Wolf,” he laughs once in bed, when Xander makes a frustrated growling noise into Ben’s neck, because he wants to bite, but won’t.

  “Stop teasing me,” Xander grits out. “Or I’ll make you stand silently in the corner for an hour.”

  Ben laughs again, but Xander adds quietly, “You think I’m joking, but I’m not.” Ben shuts up quickly. An hour staring at a blank corner wall might sound funny, but when he thinks about it – no. No, he’d rather have sex than stand in the corner.

  “I’ll be good,” he promises.

  “Mm, you better be.” And when Xander manages to get two mind-shattering orgasms out of him, Ben is doubly sure that he made the right decision to be good, even though his neck and shoulders and chest have phantom aches from non-bites.

  In lieu of biting, Xander’s been obsessing about fucking him up against the wall, next to what used to be the hole. It was weird for the first week, but Ben looks forward to it now, because Xander is always so snuggly and tells him how good he is. Xander blows him more than usual there, holding Ben’s wrists behind his back loosely with one hand and making him control his orgasm for as long as possible before swallowing down his come neatly. He gets Ben to jack him off while they kiss, Xander pushing a hand over Ben’s eyes when he cums, because Ben isn’t allowed to watch.

  It’s only when Ben’s body is free of bruises that Xander says they’re ready. It’s been over three weeks since Xander stopped marking him up and Ben is absolutely itching to feel something, something painful and ouchy and intense.

  He has to admit, Xander’s plan worked.

  They both arrange time off from work. Xander thinks they’ll need four days at least from go to whoa. “I’ll get someone to take Noah and Henry.”

  Ben raises his eyebrows. That’s serious. “Okay,” he says. “Should I, I don’t know, bring a heavy-duty gag with me?” It’s supposed to be a joke but it comes out straight.

  Xander laughs anyway. “I have one,” he says. “So no.”

  Their boss Karl isn’t happy about them both taking time off, especially since Dorian quit thanks to his big break, and Mariah is picking up small roles consistently now. Jae has constant auditions. Xander’s show won’t start shooting until mo
nths from now, so he’s still taking shifts at the coffee shop, but he uses publicity interviews as an excuse to Karl to take time off.

  Ben feels like the only one whose career is stalling, but truth be told, beyond his late-night writing sprints and the critique group, he doesn’t think about it all that much. He’s completely overtaken by Alexander Romano now, has no problem putting him before work. Before everything else. Because soon enough Ben knows he’ll have to share Xander with the rest of the world, when Xander fulfils all that potential and becomes a huge star.

  It’s inevitable.

  * * *

  Xander seems totally normal when Ben turns up on the night of their planned scene. Noah and Henry are with Joe, Xander tells Ben when he asks. They watch TV for a while, although they avoid the Halloween marathon. (The Halloween franchise was included in Ben’s list of scary movies.) Ben wants a drink, but Xander only allows him one low-alcohol beer early in the evening. He doesn’t say why he’s cutting Ben off, but Ben knows. Every so often Xander asks, “What are your safe words?”

  “Odyssey, too drastic. I know what they are, why do you keep asking?”

  “Because I want you to be as safe as possible, and you haven’t really needed them for a while.”

  When Xander finally, finally takes Ben’s hand and pulls him towards the bedroom, Ben has gone beyond anticipation, beyond nerves, to cockiness. He is one hundred percent sure that this is not going to be as intense as Xander seems to think. Xander doesn’t seem concerned though, and Ben doesn’t sense the change like he usually does, the sharp delineation between Out There and In Here. It’s been a while since he’s seen that change, anyway, after Xander’s moratorium on hard play.

  Xander leans in the doorway, watching Ben as he starts stripping off without even being told. “Remember how you said you’ve never started a fight you couldn’t finish?” he asks, as Ben kicks off his shoes.