“I’ve got bobby pins,” I said with a shrug. “For when I wash my face or whatever.”
Jesse smiled. “Bobby pins? Well, alright. Better than nothing. Let’s see your little pins.”
“Don’t make fun,” I said, poking him in the side. “Sweat-soaked hair in your face or pulled back into neat little piles courtesy of my bobby pins?”
“Alright, I trust you, Master. Let’s see what you can do. You gonna help?”
“Oh.” I choked for a moment. “You want me to like… put them in there?”
Jesse shrugged and sat down on the closed toilet seat. “You’ve done it before, so I figure you’ll be better at it than I would, right?”
I reached into the medicine cabinet with slightly shaking hands and retrieved the small box of copper-colored pins. Sure, it was just a guy. Just a hot fucking guy doing manual labor. In my bathroom.
And now, I was supposed to be cool… and put his hair into “neat little piles” as promised without completely grinding down onto his lap. Of course I could do this. Sure. He wouldn’t notice while seated that my dick was hard and an inch from his face. He wouldn’t notice that my fingers were fluttering like hummingbirds as they worked their way through his thick strands… no… of course.
Fuck. My. Life.
“So, you want just a typical joe-masculine Sopranos slick-back or you want the Bjork ultra-femme thirty-bun special?” I asked, my voice cracking just a bit.
“Huh,” he answered, running his hands through that fucking beard yet again. “I’ve not had much time to think about it. I guess let’s go with the buns. I’ve never had my hair in a bun.”
“Well, it’s too short to go with full buns, so we’ll just have to section it and then do the little ones,” I babbled. “But it’ll be cute.”
I began to run my fingers through his thick, damp mane, sectioning off little parts and twisting them tightly with my fingers. Once I got the first one nearly perfect, I shoved two bobby pins in on either side, careful not to brush my dick against his arm. The shorts I’d chosen were not exactly forgiving and he would definitely see me swelling, no matter what I’d try to do to hide it. Goddamn my love for tight underwear and even tighter shorts. Fuck you, Penguin, and your online sale.
“How was the visit this morning?” Jesse asked. “How’s your Oma?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “It was going alright, but this is the second time she’s sort of like… told me to leave. It’s like everything is going okay and then she has a moment like where she doesn’t remember something and then I say something and then she just gets weird or quiet and asks me to go. It’s so frustrating because I love her so much and I want her to just talk to me, you know?”
“Maybe she just needs to be alone in those moments.”
“I know,” I said, twisting another knot. I leaned in a little closer, this time not really caring if I grazed a little too close. “I just wish I could get through to her. Stay a little longer. Have a longer visit with her. I planned to stay the morning with her, but it feels like once I’m there for thirty or forty minutes, she’s ready for me to go. I don’t know what happens.”
Jesse looked up at me with dark chocolate eyes. “So what triggered it today? Figure out what triggers it and then try to avoid that.”
“She was telling a story about a shell that one of the nurses gave her. Only thing was, she called the nurse Nancy. I mean, as far as I knew, the nurse’s name really was Nancy. So I asked her about it. She got kind of pissed and pulled back from me. First of all, she called me Bridgette, which is my mom’s name. Then she said that she never said Nancy… I don’t know. I apologized, you know… I told her that I must have misheard her, but by then it was kind of too late.” I pushed a pin in and started in on another knot.
Jesse pulled his hand up to cover mine. “I’m sure she’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
If my hands shook before, they were in full-on flutter-mode under his thick fingers, instincts kicking in and causing me to pull away. I gave him a small nervous laugh and parted another section of hair, staring at his scalp as I added, “Sure, nothing is ever my fault.”
“Ben,” Jesse said softly.
I placed the last pin into a probably too-tight knot and patted the top of his head. “You’re all set. It’s beautiful.”
“Hey,” he tried again, reaching for my hand.
I pulled away before pumping some soap into my palms and turning on the tap. “Your hair is all sweaty.”
Jesse smiled softly, giving up on any previous conversation. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Gross, huh?”
“Disgusting,” I teased. “But it sure looks pretty. Take a look.”
He looked in the mirror, a slow grin taking over his face. “Nice. You do good work, Watts. Nice tight buns.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed his arm playfully.
“Jesus, Ben, I laid that one wide open for you. You’re supposed to say…” He gestured to me with a wave of his hand.
“That’s what he said,” I groaned.
“God, yes.” Jesse laughed aloud. “It’s like pulling teeth with you. Come on, man. Help me loosen these nuts.”
Four hours. That is how long it took to replace the toilet in my hallway. Apparently, it may have gone a little more smoothly if “the motherfucking flange wasn’t motherfucking corroded… God… motherfucker!,” but that just prompted us to the hardware store where I could not have been more entertained by Jesse and his buns, insisting that he not take them out for the short shopping trip.
It may have been an even shorter trip had I not convinced Jesse to take a graze down the candy aisle, my favorite thing to do at the hardware store with my father growing up. He’d always let me get a real Coke, as long as I drank it all before we got home to hide the evidence from my mom. And I could never tell her; it was our secret.
“They have the best candy at these tiny hardware stores. And they always have the best soda too,” I told him. “Do they have the old fashioned sodas here in the glass bottles with the real sugar? In Topeka, they still have them. Like Green River and Bubble Up and Nehi… even Sweet Corn! You ever had Sweet Corn soda? It’s like… well, it tastes like—”
When Jesse stared at me with sweat dripping from the corner of his eye into his beard, I knew it was time to make my choice and wrap it up. “Sweet corn?” he deadpanned.
“Uh huh. Well, okay, you want Charleston Chews or chocolate Necco Wafers?” I asked.
Again, he stared.
“Wait. You look like a Zagnut guy. I mean, look, they’ve got all of these retro ones, Jess. I can’t decide. Mary Janes and Abba-Zaba… oh my God, they even have Ring Pops. You know, I have such skinny fingers that I can still kinda get one on if I squeeze—”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Ben,” Jesse groaned, tossing his head back and closing his eyes in defeat. “You are maddening. Get them all. They’re like a dollar. Do you want this done today or next month?”
I tossed a handful of all of the candies into the cart and crossed my arms over my chest. “Reeeeeeeear,” I responded cattily. “Someone’s in a bitchy mood.”
“I’m not,” Jesse said, stopping the cart. “I know. This is your favorite part of this store. I like that, I promise, but right now, all I can think about is getting that toilet dropped in so—”
“So you can get home?” I finished, starting to push the cart again. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve taken your only day off and made it about me… again. It was selfish and—”
“Ben.” Jesse grabbed the back of my t-shirt and tugged, ultimately halting the cart. “Stop.” His breath on my neck was nothing compared to the weight of his two hands pressing against my upper arms. His thumbs slowly started to move, attempting to calm me. Instead, my body was now buzzing, his lips so close to my ear as he began to speak again. “I wouldn’t have offered to come today if I didn’t want to, okay? There’s nothing waiting for me at home except for some frozen dinner and a shitty cable movie, alright? I’m just ma
d about the stupid flange. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” His thumbs started to move again. “This really has nothing to do with you, okay? You want some more candy?”
I shook my head in silence.
“You sure?” Jesse dropped his chin onto my shoulder, his warm breath ghosting over the shell of my ear. “You didn’t get any Mary Janes and you passed up my favorites.”
“Which ones?” I choked out.
“The Crows Gumdrops,” he whispered.
I swallowed thickly. “Ew, the black licorice stuff? Gross.”
“Mmmmhmmm.” His throaty groan vibrated against my shoulder as his hands drifted down to my elbows. “They’re delicious.”
“I suppose you’re one of those crackpots at Easter who buys the bags of black jellybeans like a true Satanist,” I breathed, trying to control my erection.
“Jesse?” a deep voice muttered behind us. We both turned slowly, turning to face a giant man who basically could have been a stand-in for any of the Marvel characters—all he needed was the tights. He was bearded like Jesse, but his was well-groomed and meticulous, matching the perfect coiffed dark hair on his head. And the muscles… those muscles that just bulged, like, everywhere. Did the man even have a neck?
Jesse cleared his throat and extended a hand. “Hey, man.”
“Nice, uh, hair,” the guy returned, a small laugh on his lips.
Asshole. I spent a long time on that fucking hair.
Jesse touched his head as though he’d almost forgotten about the tiny buns. “Oh… yeah. Um, Ben did it.” He smiled and turned toward me. “This is Ben Watts. Ben, this is Doug Gardner.”
I grinned politely and extended a hand. He took it and gave me a way-too-masculine bro-squeeze. “Ben. Nice to meet you.”
“Mmm, likewise.”
Doug glanced into our little cart and back up at Jesse. “What’cha doing here? Just buying candy?” he teased.
Ugh. Dick.
“Nah,” Jesse returned with a shy smile. “We’re putting in a new toilet at Ben’s and the flange is busted.” He held up the small part for Doug-the-bro to see.
I fought an eye roll and turned my attention to Jesse. “I think I’m gonna go back and get an extra strawberry Ring Pop and put back this watermelon one. You want some of those gross Crow thingies?”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Oh, and a bag of Mary Janes.”
I gave him a salute and popped a blue raspberry sucker into my mouth, licking the tip with my tongue. “Yes, sir.” Giving Jesse’s friend a quick smile, I mumbled through my candy-filled mouth, “It was really nice to meet you, Doug.”
“Yeah,” he replied, giving me a full once-over. “You too… Ben.”
When I returned, Doug-the-frat-douche was gone, but Jesse was still there, a grin spreading across his flushed face. “You have fun back there?” he asked. “With the little tongue roll and the Ring Pop blowjob?”
“What?” I popped the sucker from my mouth and stuck out my blue tongue.
“I thought you were gonna make that thing come.” Smacking me once on the ass, he turned the cart around as if nothing had happened between us. As if my shorts weren’t ready to burst. “Come on, Benny-boy. Cash register. And you have to buy me one of those weird corn sodas.”
Eight.
Jesse
I should have just asked him. A thousand times I wanted to ask him, but I hadn’t. The words were on the tip of my tongue.
Do you want to go out with me? Like on a real date?
Instead, I would make a bad joke or ask if he was hungry for the tenth time. Anything other than…
Do you want to go out with me?
Did I think he even would at this point? I wasn’t even sure that he liked me. Sure, he seemed to like me as friends, but I wasn’t even sure my feelings were being reciprocated. I’d put my hands on him at the store and had moved close, but he’d stiffened beneath me. If he’d felt the same way, wouldn’t he have softened into my touch? Wouldn’t he have leaned into it? Flirted back? Instead, when I’d said I’d liked a certain kind of candy, he’d said they were gross and had all but pulled away.
But he had acted a little jealous when Doug had come around in the hardware store, putting on that little show with the Ring Pop. And I had noticed that he may have been into it when I’d somehow gotten him to put my hair up. Pulling that one off was a near-stroke-of-genius, using the excuse that he’d used bobby pins before and I hadn’t—they were pins, what was so hard?—but he’d fallen for it, brushing up against my back at one point and I’d definitely felt something. And if that’s what he felt like soft, I was in for a treat when I actually did get around to touching him—that was, if he ever let me near enough to touch him. He always seemed to pull away.
I needed to get to the bottom of that.
Maybe he was still hung up on Zach. Or maybe he just wasn’t attracted to me.
But I’d heard it. That small gasp when I’d smacked his behind. It was meant to be playful and I’d done it to see how he’d react. Ben had let out the faintest of whimpers when I’d made contact, making my own dick stand at attention. By the time we’d checked out, I’d had to adjust myself three times behind that cart, praying that Ben hadn’t noticed each time, but maybe secretly hoping he might.
When I’d left his house, we’d lingered by the door. He’d said that the next day was his first day back at work full-time and that he had a lot of catching up to do. Prep work, he’d called it. It was his first real day working remotely, so he’d be on the phone with technical support to make sure everything was going smoothly on their end.
Ben had said, however, that his last show ended at nine. He’d also asked me what the weather was supposed to be like. He’d said he’d like to go for a late-night swim. He hadn’t asked me to join, but it was there… something was there. Ben had moved his foot in front of mine, casually just sort of moving it like he was trailing his toes through sand, almost touching his bare toes to the tops of my work boots. His feet were slender and white with nails so buffed and clean, you’d think he spent his entire life tending to them. I couldn’t help but stare at them for a moment until he’d pushed my chest with a graceful hand.
“What are you looking at?” he’d asked.
“Nothing,” I’d answered. “I’ll, um… I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, weirdo.”
Of course he’d caught me staring. Jesus, maybe I was a weirdo. I had been staring at another man’s feet, after all. I didn’t have a foot fetish… I never had. But Ben was quickly becoming my fetish. All of him.
“How’d your toilet date go, bro?” Will asked the following morning.
“Comedian,” I grumbled. “It wasn’t a date.”
“Eh.” He shrugged. “Guy needs a toilet put in, he can call a plumber. Instead, he keeps callin’ you for every little bullshit thing he needs done around that dump. I’d say he just wants to jump on that dick.”
I stared at my older brother, begging for the ground beneath us to open up in that moment. “Do you talk to Janine like that?”
“Janine’s the one who taught me that. That’s what she says when she’s ovulating,” he said with a shrug. “It’s romantic.”
“You guys still… you know?”
“Tryin’ for a baby?” Will nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know if it’s me or her. We haven’t done anything about it yet but we will eventually if nothin’ happens. She does that whole thing where she tips upside down or whatever and lets my swimmers settle in there, but nothing’s going right. I don’t know. It’s so frustrating ‘cause there are people all over who get pregnant every hour who don’t wanna be, you know? And then there’s us… with Janine hangin’ upside down at three in the afternoon every time she’s ovulating. I just feel bad, like there’s something I should be doing… you know… better or whatever.”
“You’ll get there,” I told him. “You guys just started what… six months ago?”
“Eleven.”
“Oh. Well, alrig
ht. Either way, it’ll be okay. You only have a few days of the month when it can happen, right? So, it’s like a gamble.”
“God, man,” Will said with a laugh. “You sound about as fuckin’ educated on this subject as I do. We’re pathetic. So, when you bringin’ this new guy around?”
“I told you… we aren’t dating or whatever. There’s no reason to bring him around.”
“Alright, little brother. Whatever you say. You just keep on changing light bulbs over there or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing and pretend it isn’t anything more than that. But I’m telling you right now, you know it and he knows that it’s more than that, even if you haven’t done nothin’ more than home improvement bullshit.”
“I wanted to ask him out,” I blurted. “But I just couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Will asked bluntly. “He’s a fuckin’ guy, not a Prince. And last time I checked, you guys already kind of went on a date. I mean, wasn’t that sushi date like a real date or whatever?”
I peeled at a jagged fingernail, avoiding my brother’s gaze. “Not really. I don’t know. I mean, he didn’t even really know I was gay at the time. I told him during the middle of the dinner and then things got kind of awkward and… I don’t know. Anyway, we’re still in the fucking friend-zone and I don’t know how to move it into the next level.”
Will laughed loudly, leaning over to smack my arm. “Man, brother, you’ve got it bad. I have never seen you with this we’re in the friend-zone and I just… oh, boy, I don’t know how to move it into the next level because my nuts are officially the size of peas and—”
“Shut up, please,” I returned. “And I don’t sound like Mom, so that voice you’re using for me is officially offensive.”
“When you fucking complain about not being able to nut up and ask this guy on a date, you do sound like Mom. She takes a backseat to Dad and has all her fuckin’ life. Don’t turn into her on this one. So, when are you gonna see him next?”
Benji and the Wireman Page 6
