46
Sam
Ben hadn’t been exaggerating when he said his place was small. It was, indeed, missing a dining table, along with a wall separating the living area from the bed. All in all, though, it was charming. Sam had assumed that Ben would have decorated with greys and blacks and whites. Instead, he found the room fitted with brown, green, and cream. It was an earthy color scheme, but that made sense with Ben’s affinity toward nature.
Setting the take-out bag on the counter, he inspected the room even further. A few photographs hung above his sofa, while a charcoal drawing—the only speck of black—was situated over his bed. It looked oddly similar to the one in Sam’s apartment.
“Phoenix Wrenn?” he asked, pointing to the piece in question.
Ben nodded. “I’m one of the few people he actually talks to. He’s something of a recluse, you know.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Sam wondered idly what caused him to be that way, and if he ever got lonely. While Sam didn’t have that many friends, he had his tribe, and it sounded like that was more than Phoenix had.
While Ben grabbed plates and utensils, Sam pulled the take-out containers from the bag. Just as he thought, he’d ended up with the pad thai, while Ben ordered a chicken dish that looked savory. But maybe he was exaggerating. He took the plate Ben handed him and doled out his noodles, then grabbed a fork from the counter.
“What do you want to drink?” Ben asked. “I’ve got water, Coke, beer…”
“What kind of beer?”
“Nothing like the stuff we had at your parents’. I’m on a budget. I buy whatever’s on sale.”
Sam grinned. “Then give me whatever’s on sale.”
Ben pulled two bottles from the fridge and handed one over to Sam. They took their plates into the living area and sat down on the sofa, and Sam looked over at Ben.
“Does it ever get weird, doing everything in the same room?”
Rolling his eyes, Ben took a bite of his food. “You went to college. Didn’t you live on campus?” he asked, his mouth still full.
Sam nodded.
“Okay, so even if you had a private room, you would still know what it felt like to live and work in the same space.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have a kitchen in my room.”
Ben cocked his head in assent. “Fair point. It doesn’t really feel too cramped unless I’ve got a bunch of people over, but generally I go over to my friends’ houses if they’re having a party. Besides, I’ve not exactly had anyone over here, so…”
Sam didn’t have to ask what he meant. Ben had never had a boyfriend over. That piece of information thrilled him, though he knew it had no reason to. It wasn’t because he was special, but rather because Ben had gotten out of a bad relationship. That was all.
They flicked on an episode of some mindless TV show while they ate. Every now and again, Sam or Ben would make some remark about the plot, but for the most part, it was just a relaxed, enjoyable atmosphere, much like they’d shared when they had watched Grease together. When Sam finished his noodles, he sat the plate to the side and drained the last of his beer, suddenly acutely aware that the bed was only steps away. It would be so easy for them to just go straight there. But even though they’d had sex before, that didn’t mean Ben was willing to put out on a first date. For all he knew, Ben wanted to wait a while before they got intimate again. He hoped that wasn’t the case, though.
Ben looked over at him, then followed his gaze to the bed. He cleared his throat and set his plate to the side, and Sam braced himself for rejection. But instead, Ben placed his hand on Sam’s knee and slowly slid it up his thigh.
“Are you sure?” Sam asked. He didn’t want to put pressure on Ben to do anything he wasn’t ready for, and given how recently they’d fought, Sam would have understood if he wanted to wait.
“I’m sure.” He bit his lip, as though he were uncertain whether to continue, but a moment later he did. “You know, the entire time I wasn’t talking to you, I still dreamed about you. I still thought about what it was like being with you. The way you felt inside of me.”
The words sent a shiver through Sam’s body and a heat to his groin. He’d been the same. It was amazing how quickly he’d grown accustomed to having Ben in his bed. Sleeping alone had been an unwelcome change. Emboldened by Ben’s encouragement, Sam slid closer to him, so their thighs were touching.
“What else did you think about?” he asked, pitching his voice low.
“I thought about how much I wished I had fucked you when I had the chance.”
Sam huffed out a laugh.
“I’m not kidding,” Ben protested. “Before I ever agreed to pose as your boyfriend, I thought about it. Probably more than I should have. You can’t imagine the number of fantasies I had that involved the counter at the Press Room.”
“I think Peter might have an objection or two to that,” Sam said, his voice quivering as he tried not to giggle.
“Maybe so. That doesn’t mean I can’t think about it.”
“Well you wouldn’t be the only one.” He’d had a fantasy or a few about the two of them in the Press Room as well.
“Oh, Mr. Hayward. What a filthy mind you have.”
Sam grinned. “That’s not even the tip of the iceberg.”
He turned and straddled Ben’s lap, grateful that they’d moved plates out of the way already. With everything that had gone wrong that night, he wasn’t taking any chances. Ben let out a little gasp at the sudden movement, but the noise quickly turned into something akin to a purr.
“What else have you been thinking about, then?” he asked. He stared up at Sam, his eyes hazy with lust.
“How amazing it would feel to have your lips around my cock. Whether it would feel different because you have a beard.”
Now that he knew Ben liked him, too, he wasn’t shy about what he wanted. And he wanted everything.
“We’re not quite in a position to do that, but believe me, I’d be happy to oblige.”
Scrambling, Sam climbed off of Ben and pushed his pants down in one swift motion, before his ass hit the sofa cushion. He kicked at the tattered ruin of his pant leg, managing to shimmy all the way out of his pants and underwear. Once settled, he looked over to Ben expectantly, but Ben didn’t move.
“I was thinking somewhere more comfortable. Like the bed. You know, since there’s a pretty high probability that one of us is going to get fucked tonight.”
Right. Of course. That would save time, and Ben was all about conservation. He stood and walked over to the bed, shedding his shirt in the process. When he looked back, Ben was unbuttoning his shirt, and Sam realized that this was one of the few times Ben hadn’t worn plaid in his presence. Ben cleaned up well, but Sam had to admit he kind of missed the plaid. Until Ben slid his trousers down, revealing green plaid boxers. Sam raked his eyes up and down Ben’s body, taking him in. God, he had missed this sight.
“Are you checking me out?” Ben asked lowly.
“Maybe I am. What are you gonna do, come over here and stop me?”
Ben crossed the room in three strides and pinned Sam up against the side of the bed. Without a word, he pressed his lips to Sam’s in a deep assault of a kiss. Sam groaned and leaned into it, parting his lips almost immediately to give Ben access. And then a moment later, Ben was gone. Opening his eyes, Sam looked down to find Ben kneeling in front of him, and he sat down on the bed before his knees gave out.
Fisting his hands in the comforter, Sam bit his lip to keep from making noise as Ben took his cock in hand, then licked a stripe underneath. But he couldn’t contain a gasp when Ben slid his lips over the head and slowly took him all the way down to the root. Just as he’d thought, his beard was scratchy, but not uncomfortably so. If anything, it just added an extra sensation to the experience.
Hollowing his cheeks, Ben set a steady rhythm. He alternated between bobbing his head and laving his tongue across the sensitive head. Sam ran one hand through Ben’s hair, his fingers curling, but not guiding. Ben was doing perfectly on his own—he didn’t need any assistance in that department. His mouth wasn’t the only thing moving. Ben cupped Sam’s balls with one hand, rolling and gently squeezing, while the other hand trailed across his abdomen, down his thighs, and back behind his balls. When he grazed the sensitive skin of Sam’s perineum, Sam bucked his hips, then immediately realized what he had done.
“Shit, sorry,” he breathed.
Ben just hummed, sending sparks throughout Sam’s entire body. His toes curled, but he wasn’t ready to come just yet. He still had so much he wanted to do with Ben. Tugging at Ben’s hair, he pulled him up and kissed him deeply, tasting the salty precum.
“Tell me what you want,” Ben said breathlessly.
Anything. Everything. Sam’s brain scrambled, but then he remembered Ben wishing he’d fucked him.
“I want you inside of me.”