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“Momma said it was idolatry and how Satan ensnared people’s souls.”
Simon opened his mouth, closed it, seemed to think something over, then said, “And what do you think?”
Ben shrugged. “I’ve seen movies at school. The devil never came for me in the night to take me away. It took a long time, but I can see now that Momma wasn’t always right about things.”
“That seems an understatement,” Simon said dryly.
Ben couldn’t help the laugh that burbled out of him. “It was easier when I went away to college, trust me. Being away from her gave me… perspective.”
“I just bet it would,” Simon grumbled. “Anyway.A Christmas Carolit is. Which one?”
“How many are there?” Ben asked. “I know they made one with Muppets. And there was the one we watched in class. That was black and white.”
“There’s probably a dozen,” Simon said. “Easily. It’s a great storyandit’s in the public domain. Would you like me to choose my favorite?”
Ben smiled. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”
“I saw this one on TV when I was a kid, so it was my first Scrooge. George C. Scott is wonderful in it.”
Ben had no clue who George C. Scott was, but he nodded his head anyway. After Simon used a remote control to do what might as well have been magic as far as Ben was concerned, both settled back to watch it. Ben ate popcorn and candy until he thought he’d burst. He laughed at the funny bits of the movie.
Mostly, he relished sitting next to Simon. He smelled amazing. When sketching him, Ben had caught tantalizing hints of it, but now they were sitting side-by-side and Ben wanted to take in great lungfuls of Simon’s scent. He wore some kind of amazing cologne that was sinfully delicious. Simon was warm, too. Warmer than a hot water bottle.
Ben knew it was wicked and wrong, but he pretended Simon was his boyfriend, rather than temporary benefactor. He allowed himself to snuggle, inch by cautious inch, into Simon’s side. Then he laid his head against Simon’s shoulder. At some point Simon shifted. Ben thought with a pang that Simon was moving and he’d have to give up Simon’s pleasant warmth and intoxicating scent. But Simon didn’t pull away. Rather, he put his arm around Ben’s shoulders. Ben was afraid to move, knowing this opportunity might never come again. Eventually, he gave in and melted against Simon, who let out a low grunt then pulled Ben closer. His thumb unhurriedly stoked the skin of Ben’s arm. It felt like absolute heaven and Ben felt like he could be happy never moving anywhere ever again.
Then Simon did something completely unexpected. As Scrooge gallivanted through Victorian London, he bent down and kissed the top of Ben’s head.
Ben’s heart did a little flip of both surprise and hope. He looked away from the movie and up at Simon. His face had gone the exact shade of rose madder.
“I’m sorry,” Simon said, pulling away.
Ben followed him. “I don’t mind,” he said. “It’s okay.” That was an understatement. It was way more than okay. Ben hadn’t had much time or inclination to date lately. It had been ages since he’d been this close to another person and it had awakened a dormant body hunger inside him. It was inappropriate he felt that for Simon, but probably not surprising. Heshouldlet Simon pull away and stay on his side of the couch, but Ben didn’t want to. He wanted to watch the movie again and again just so he could be where he was, at Simon’s side, smelling his expensive cologne and soaking in all his warmth and maybe, if he was very lucky, Simon would kiss him again.
Instead, Simon pulled away like Ben had the plague. “I don’t… I’m not sure what came over me, Benny. That was grossly inappropriate. I have to apologize.”
“No,” Ben said, “you don’t. Not for anything. I thought it was nice.”
“It was wrong.”
“In what way?” As touching went, it had all been pretty damn tame.
Simon looked at Ben like he had two heads. “You’re a guest in my house.And you’re so young. And I’m not… I’m straight.” Ben couldn’t help but notice that Simon sounded uncertain about that last statement.
Ben turned to Simon, drawing his legs under him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Simon. I didn’t mind. I could’ve pulled away or said no, but I didn’t, because it was nice and I liked it. And I’m not that young.” He smiled and it felt crooked. “I’m twenty-eight. I’m more than old enough to know my own mind.”
That didn’t seem to ease Simon’s conscience. “Twenty-eight.” He barked a short, hard laugh. “I’m forty-eight. I could be your father.”
Ben shrugged. “Just barely, and I don’t care.”
“Maybe you should,” Simon said.
“Maybe, but I don’t.” Ben had a horrible thought. “Are you upset that I’m a guy? Do you think I’m working my gay wiles on you?” Because if that were the case, Ben would need to leave. Winter or not, flooded basement or not. He couldn’t stay if Simon felt that way.
Thankfully, Simon looked amused, not angry. “What exactly are gay wiles?”
“I have no idea. If it’s not that, are you upset because you’re in a relationship? Because if you are, I apologize. I shouldn't have—”
Simon, much to Ben’s relief, looked appalled. “God, no.”
