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Ben had waited all morning for Simon to appear, eating breakfast alone in the small kitchen. It had been fully stocked with fresh food yesterday, probably at the same time someone had tidied his room and made his bed. To pass the time, Ben reread one of his favorite books,White Fang,carefully holding the book together so it didn’t fall apart on him completely. As it was, he had to keep a rubber band around it when he wasn’t reading it.
For lunch he had chicken noodle soup that Roberta brought up to him. It tasted so good he wasn’t sure how he’d ever go back to eating the canned stuff again. Ben realized he was being spoiled, and while it was wonderful, it was also a little worrying. Giving it all up when it was time for him to leave was going to be hard.
Even if he did “put the mack” on Simon, as Hudson had suggested, he had no illusions that they would have a lengthy relationship. Or even a relationship at all. Hudson might be wrong. And if he wasn’t, Simon could have any man or woman he wanted. Why on earth would he continue to want Ben? It was all novelty and proximity with some bi-curiosity or whatever thrown in. Ben knew what happened when you had sex with straight guys, and it never turned out well.
But if he went into this with his eyes open, maybe it would be okay. He would go in knowing it would have an end. It was probably dumb as hell, but Ben did want to do more with Simon than have his hair kissed. He was a kind and beautiful man. If he needed some queer training wheels, Ben would be more than willing to fill that role.
After lunch, Ben went back to his sketch of Simon, smoothing it out and refining it. He’d been so immersed in his art that he hadn’t noticed Simon had entered his room until he heard Simon speak. At Simon’s out-of-the-blue question, Ben jumped a little but luckily didn’t ruin his sketch.
“The what market?” Ben asked.
“I’m sure you’ve walked by it at some point. It’s not far from the Prince building. It’s that outdoor German market they put up every year in November and they sell Christmassy things.”
“Oh, yeah. That.” Ben had walked past it but never through it. He’d never seen the point of it. There was nothing there he could either afford to buy or needed in any way. “No, I’ve never gone to it. I didn’t grow up with Christmas so it’s not something I think about too much.” Which was only a partial truth. Christmas was a holiday that Ben had felt the most keenly while actively not observing it with his mother. While they weren’t rich like Simon, he and his mother had lived a comfortable life. If it hadn’t been for Momma’s religion, Christmas might have been something special. That was the whole point, though. No days except those spent in church were supposed to be special. Not even birthdays. During Ben’s first year in college, he’d kept mostly to the ways in which he’d been raised. His sophomore year, however, he’d dared to have a little fake tree with plastic ornaments on it in his dorm room. Momma had surprised him with a visit, and saw it, and there had been hell to pay for that.
Not as much as there had been when Momma had found out he was gay, but that was something Ben didn’t like thinking about, so he shoved both memories away somewhere out of mind.
Simon started talking, and it could only be labeled as babbling, which Ben found positively endearing. “Oh. Well, if you wouldn’t feel comfortable… I mean we could do something else… but you don’t have to, of course. Do anything, I mean. I wouldn’t want you to think you were evercompelledto do anything at all, especially not with me, but—”
“Yes,” Ben said. “If you want to go, I’d love to go, too.” He bit his lip. “Except I’ll have to borrow a coat. And boots. It snowed again last night. Do you have anything old I could borrow?”
Simon’s eyes brightened. “No need! Hudson is bringing up your new things.”
“My new… what?”
Simon, who seemed to be on more familiar ground now, said, “I bought you new clothes. And a coat. And a parka. And hats and gloves and boots. We can get you more things later, but this will be enough for today.”
Ben tried to wrap his head around all of that. All he could come up with was, “How many coats do you expect me to wear?”
Simon chuckled and it was such a wonderful sound Ben thought he could listen to it forever. “Hudson did say I was overdoing it, but I can send back the things you don’t like or don’t fit. I wanted to be certain you had something that would work.”
Ben had nothing to say to that, so it was just as well Hudson appeared in the doorway holding enough boxes that it was a miracle he could see to walk. With a grunt, he put them all on the bed next to where Ben sat.
Ben put down his sketchbook and just gaped at it all. The boxes were wrapped like presents in paper that was silver and gold colored and it was more than a little overwhelming. How would he ever be able to pay any of this back? It would be impossible.
“I can’t…” Ben’s eyes stung and he had to hold back his frustrated tears. “You know I can’t accept this. It’s too much. I just can’t—”
“You can,” Hudson said with finality, laying down a final stack of boxes. “Fuck your pride or whatever, kid. You need these. It isn’t like the boss decided to buy you the latest PlayStation or whatever. You need one of those like you need a hole in your head. But kid, no matter what, you’re gonna need warm clothes and boots. And the boss won’t say so, but you’ll hurt his delicate feelings if you don’t accept ‘em.”
Simon looked affronted. “My feelings aren’t that delicate.”
Hudson snorted. “Whatever you say, boss.” He pierced Ben with a knowing look. “Don’t be dumb about this, kid. And now I’m gonna leave you two be. When you’re ready to go, send me a text.”
Once Ben was alone with Simon and the pile of impossible presents, he had no idea what to do, so he stared at his hands in his lap.
Simon sat down on the opposite corner of the bed. “You don’t have to keep any of it if you don’t want. I was just…”
Ben looked up to see that Simon was staring at a spot somewhere above Ben’s head, so he couldn’t see the expression in his eyes. So he gathered his courage and asked, “Do you want me to open these?”
Simon nodded, still not meeting Ben’s eyes. “I would. Please.”
Ben thought about what Hudson had said to him while he stared at the shiny packages. Some men bought you drinks in a bar. Simon, apparently, furnished you with a new wardrobe. It was, he supposed the same thing. It was only a matter of scale. And while his brain was still having an incredibly rough time with all it, his heart urged him on.
“Will it make you happy, Simon? If I open all these and wear what you bought?”
Simon’s eye’s flared hot, the silver going all molten. “Very much, yes.”
Ben felt a flutter of hopeful but anxious wings inside his chest. “Okay. I’ll do it. Just for you.”
