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Was that a question or a statement? Simon had absolutely no idea and he wasn’t sure how to respond. In between his legs, his cock throbbed with unfamiliar want.
I want to be nice to you,an imaginary Ben said.
Simon’s erection pulsed in excitement. He ran his hand over it, feeling it through the smooth fabric of his pants. It had been a long time since he’d felt any kind of need to do this, but he needed it now and couldn’t have kept his hand off of himself for anything. He shoved his pants down and pulled his cock out, the bedclothes pushed down past his knees. He spat on his hand then ran it over the head. It was already pouring out precum and that helped, too. It didn’t take long. Not even a dozen strokes while thinking of Ben, on his hands and knees on the bed, crawling closer to him, and his hard, aching cock. Close enough to touch it. Close enough to take it into his mouth—
Simon came with an audible cry that surprised him. He lay on his back, sticky and sated and also full of cringe for using the sick boy upstairs as something to jerk off to. Even so, Simon thought that might have been the most intense orgasm of his life.
He wanted, with a fierce longing he didn’t understand, to go up to Ben’s room and get into his bed then pull their bodies together so that there was nothing at all between them. He wanted to sleep like that and wake like that and maybe spend the rest of his life like that.
Simon used his not-sticky hand to wipe his face. What the fuck did he think he was doing, other than looking for trouble? Grabbing a tissue, he cleaned his right hand then picked up his phone. Before he could change his mind, Simon typed three texts in a row then put his phone down again.
Simon:I’m honestly not sure. I’ll have to think about it. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.
Simon:Good night, Benny
Simon:I’ll see you in the morning
Simon’s heart, already known to be untrustworthy, beat too fast and too hard for comfort. He was in trouble and the worst—or best—part was that he looked forward to every second of it.
13
Ben Shows Simon His Sketches
Sunday, December 17
An unfamiliar guest room
The Gold Coast
From long habit, Ben naturally woke early, while it was still dark, but much later than usual because he hadn’t set an alarm. He’d slept much of the previous day, rising only to use the bathroom and to try to eat the food Simon brought up to him, although he hadn’t had much of an appetite. Mostly he’d gotten down some soup and what felt like gallons of the best orange juice he’d ever tasted.
After a day of complete rest, Ben found he felt much better. The sun would rise in about an hour, so he took the time to use the bathroom, get dressed, and drink a Coke he found in the fridge. Ben didn’t drink soda often, as it was too expensive to justify the cost when so many other, more important things needed to be purchased, and he enjoyed this treat thoroughly. While looking for a glass, Ben had found a basket filled with an assortment of granola and protein bars and ate one of them. He’d been hesitant to take it at first, but Simon had said he was welcome to anything he found. Besides, the basket was so full no one would notice one bar had been eaten.
When he was done, Ben went back to the bedroom and stretched out on the fluffy bed, propped up by several pillows. He left the lights off and let his eyes become readjusted to the darkness. When he opened them, he could see that the blackness outside had changed to dark cobalt. Dawn was almost there.
Ben lay still, watching the light from the windows become violet, then periwinkle, then a deep pink that slid into a rich orange. Despite often being up before dawn, Ben hadn’t seen an entire sunrise in a long time. Longer than he could remember. He soaked in the colors and tried to remember each one, although he’d never, ever be able to reproduce them anywhere except inside his mind. It was still a feast for his soul and Ben hadn’t realized how starving he’d been.
The skylights had begun to spill syrupy morning light on Ben when there was a knock on his door. It was probably Hudson, as he seemed to be both driver and butler and lord knew what else to Simon. He was probably there to tell Ben to come down to breakfast, or maybe he'd brought him up something to eat. Or perhaps Simon had decided to send him away and this was the last minute he’d be here as a welcome guest. Ben didn’t think that last option was the most likely, but he made his peace with it, just in case.
“Come in,” he called, not moving. He would have to leave the bed and the glorious light soon enough. He wasn’t going to hasten it prematurely.
“I texted you but you didn’t answer. Hudson said to let you sleep longer but I wanted to make sure you were okay and had taken your medication. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
It was Simon, not Hudson. Ben turned his head to see the man dressed less formally than he had been yesterday. Today he wore a sweater and jeans, both blue. The sweater was the same color as the sky had been just as the light first touched it. The jeans were faded to the point of being nearly white. No doubt they were designer something or other, but they looked like a favorite pair that had been washed and worn over and over again for many years. Not out of necessity, but out of love.
“I was awake,” Ben said. “I’ve just been lying here watching the sun come up. Sorry I didn’t respond to your message.”
Simon smiled, looking relieved. “Good. Have you eaten anything?”
Despite knowing he’d had permission, Ben blushed as he nodded. “I found a basket of granola bars and ate one. Oh, and I drank a Coke, too.”
Simon stepped closer to the bed then sat on the edge. Ben’s pulse raced in anticipation. This was the man he’d fantasized about countless times, the man he’d imagined being in bed with him the night before, and now he was here, in the flesh, and things began to feel overwhelming to Ben again.
“Did you take your medication?” Simon asked.
“No. I forgot about it.”
Simon said nothing but raised his brow at Ben expectantly.
