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“Yes, please,” Ben said, then belatedly looked at Simon, realizing he shouldn’t have spoken for both of them, especially before Simon had stated his preference. Simon, however, didn’t seem fazed. “Let me get a dish and I’ll pick out some cookies for us.”
Ben sat at the kitchen island and watched while Roberta poured milk into a pan and started heating it while Simon flitted throughout the kitchen studying the cooling cookies like there would be an exam later then choosing some after much internal debate. Ben could’ve told him it was unnecessary—he wasn’t picky and would eat any sort of cookie put in front of him—but he didn’t want to spoil Simon’s fun.
Simon brought back a plate with six pretty cookies on it. He pointed to them one by one. “That’s a peppermint pinwheel, an iced sugar cookie, gingerbread, a snickerdoodle, raspberry pillow cookie, and cranberry pecan shortbread.”
Ben had no idea which cookie to choose. “This is really hard,” he said. “What if I pick your favorite one?”
“Then I will be pleased you have excellent taste. But if you’re really worried, I have a solution.” Simon picked up a cookie and broke it in half, keeping one part for himself and handing the other to Ben.
It was the one he’d called a snickerdoodle, and Ben wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was light and sweet and tasted like cinnamon. “Oh, man, that’s so good,” he moaned.
“Flattery,” Roberta said, “will get you everywhere.” She poured the cocoa into three mugs and took two of them to Simon and Ben. Then she took her own mug and sipped at it. “Not bad,” she remarked. “If I do say so myself.”
The hot chocolate was perfect as far as Ben was concerned. Rich and sweet and just the thing to enjoy with cookies. He tasted them all and found each delicious, but in the end decided the gingerbread was his favorite. When they were done, Ben slid off his stool and carried their dishes to the large sink and rinsed them carefully. “Thank you, Roberta. Do you need help cleaning up?”
She snorted. “You are as sweet as sugar, baby, but no, I’m good. Can’t have you stealing my job, can I? You go on up to bed now. The both of you. Out of my kitchen.”
Simon huffed good-naturedly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I like that boy,” she told Simon. “He’s a good influence on you. Now scoot.”
They scooted. Together they climbed the stairs, Ben breathing easily the whole way. “You seem a lot better,” Simon mentioned as they paused on the second-floor landing.
Ben felt his stomach sink. He was better and he’d have to start looking for a new place to live soon. It would be the responsible thing to do, but selfishly, he Ben understood, but he didn’t want to leave Simon. Could the two of them date, living such disparate lives? Or would it be a forever goodbye? He didn’t want that. Not even a little. But Ben wanted to overstay his welcome even less.
“Yeah. I feel a lot better.” It wasn’t a lie if you counted physical health.
“Good,” Simon said, and the word was speared through Ben’s heart, popping his happiness into something ragged and shriveled.
Ben nodded and put his foot down on the first stair to the next floor. “Um, yeah. I’ll just be—”
“No, Benny,” Simon said. “The night isn’t over yet.”
“It’s not?”
“Not even close.” Simon drew Ben close and kissed him with soft, hesitant lips. “I want you in my bed.” He pulled away and a slight frown marred Simon’s face. “Unless you don’t want to—”
Ben crashed his lips onto Simon’s mouth, the kiss saying the refrain that repeated itself over and over in his mind.I want I want I want.
Tuesday, December 19
The second-floor landing
The Gold Coast
Ben had lost his virginity almost a decade previously when he was a freshman in college and away from his home for the first time in his life. He wasn’t any sort of innocent, but at the moment he wondered if what experience he had would be enough to get him and Simon through their first time. Most of his previous experiences had been with men who said, in one way or another, they wanted to stick their dick in him. Not always put that crudely, but they both knew, without saying a lot, how things were going to go.
This would need conversation, or at least a few words exchanged, or it could go completely sideways before Ben realized it. Things were already progressing in that direction, with Simon shoving Ben into his bedroom while still kissing him then ordering Ben to strip. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt while Simon did the same.
“Simon, what do you want?” That wasn’t as direct as it could’ve been, but at least it was a start.
Simon froze and gave Ben a deer-in-the-headlights look. “What?” He sounded panicky.
Damn.Ben stepped closer to Simon, looped his arms around his neck, and kissed him softly to reassure him. “I only mean… you want to have sex with me, right?”
“Yes.” The word was stark and almost pained.
“How?” Ben realized that sounded less than encouraging, so he added, “This is your first time—with a man, I mean—and I’m not sure what you want.”
