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Ben:*blushing emoji* Ill be waiting
Something about that message stirred Simon into quicker action. He managed to be up on the fourth floor in ten minutes flat, practically racing up the stairs like an excited child.
Ben sat in the middle of the bed with his legs crossed. He held his sketchbook tightly in his arms and looked expectant.
“How do you…?” Simon began.
“Today, I’d like to sketch your face.” Ben colored. “I’ve drawn you, but only from memory.”
“Of course,” Simon said, trying to decide if he was relieved or disappointed that he would be allowed to keep his clothes on. “Do you want me to sit or stand?”
“Sit, please. That chair there would be perfect.” He pointed to one of the upholstered chairs.
Simon sat, holding himself still.
“Sit like you normally would. I want you in a natural pose.”
It was interesting how sure and confident Ben had become. Seemingly timid and unsure in every other way, he blossomed while even contemplating his art.
“Good,” Ben said. “You’ll need to remember this position. You can move, but try to come back to this. I’ll let you know if I need you to move your head at all.”
Time passed oddly while Ben drew him. Simon had nothing to do but sit there, and Ben didn’t seem at all interested in conversation. Once he started drawing, it was like he became utterly lost to the world. Simon studied Ben as he himself was studied. Simon couldn’t draw but he still soaked in every detail he could make out.
Ben wore a t-shirt and long, loose shorts. With his legs crossed, Simon could see Ben’s legs from his bony knees down to his bare feet. His calves were slim with light brown hair. His feet were covered in thick callouses at the ball and heel. Probably from a job spent standing. There was a painful-looking crack on one of them.
From there Simon watched Ben’s hands and fingers. They were long and elegant, with more callouses. His fingernails were short and somewhat ragged. He moved them with the sure grace of someone going through the measures of a much-beloved waltz. It was fascinating.
Ben’s expression was often hard to see. He often had his head tipped down, hair falling across his eyes. Sometimes he pushed it back with efficient but impatient sweeps of his hand. Twice he accidentally drew on his forehead with the soft pencil he sketched with.
Simon let his mind wander as he watched Ben. It was astounding how lovely the boy was. His neck and shoulders were graceful. He had creamy skin dotted with freckles and dark eyes framed by long lashes. His mouth was full and pink.
Perfect for kissing.
The thought made Simon stiffen up all over, including his groin. He was sure he’d never fantasized about kissing another person but he was doing it now. How would Ben taste? Sweet. He would surely taste sweet. Also rich and spicy, like a wintery baked treat. Cinnamon and sugar and ginger.
The more Simon thought about kissing Ben, the more uncomfortable he became. Simon was relieved he wasn’t posing nude for Ben that day. His thickening cock would be embarrassing as hell. Hopefully, by the time that came around, Simon would have himself under better control.
Ben dropped his pencil and stretched the fingers in his hand. “Time to stop. My hand’s cramping up.”
“I can sit again for you later,” Simon assured him.
Ben yawned and rolled his back and shoulders. “You don’t have to. All I have left is to smooth out the sketch.”
Simon felt a strange hollowness inside him, like he’d been found unnecessary. He didn’t like the sensation one bit. “Can I see your drawing?” he asked.
Ben flipped the sketchbook closed then hugged it to him. “Not until it’s done.”
“Are you still bored?”
“You don’t have to stay with me,” Ben said softly. “I’ll be okay on my own.”
Simon felt a swell of disappointment inside him and he admonished himself to give Ben some space. “Is that what you want? To be left alone?”
Ben scrunched up his face. “What does that matter? This is your house. I’m crashing into your life. I’m sure you have things you should be doing that are way more important than hanging out with me. It’s okay. I’m used to being on my own.”
Simon couldn’t tell if Ben was being overly polite or if he truly wished Simon to leave him alone. “I retired yesterday. Or, rather, the day before that. At the moment I have nothing on my agenda.” That wasn’t completely accurate, but there was nothing that couldn’t keep a few days. “If you want me to leave you alone to nap or read, I will. But we could also watch TV. Or a movie. Or play a game.”
Ben looked amused. “Board or electronic?”
