Chapter Twenty-five
Tim didn’t realize he had a routine until it was broken. No longer could he shuffle to the fridge in the morning, bleary-eyed and miserable until he chugged that first can of Coke. Now he barely managed to get his bathrobe on before a little monster had bitten the hem, tugging and growling playfully. Sometimes Tim managed to grab a drink on the way to the backyard so Chinchilla could pee—on the rare occasion she went outside to do so instead of piddling on the carpet. Then Chinchilla had to be fed, after which she wanted to play.
The dog came first, and only after her needs were satisfied did Tim make time for himself. This helped the weeks pass less painfully than they would have otherwise. But as he got used to his new life as a doggy dad, Tim found himself stewing more on what had happened.
Anger and jealously toward Jace troubled him for a couple of weeks, along with a healthy portion of blame toward his teenage self who had given it all away. Then he became more reasonable, telling himself it was time to cut his losses and move on.
There was one prospect. Aaron was in Tim’s contemporary art course. They had noticed each other early in the semester, mostly because Tim caught Aaron staring so often. Aaron was gay. He was too primped to be anything else. Tim had known frat boys obsessed with their appearance, but they normally drew the line at powder and base.
Aaron’s style had a strange appeal, an alluring touch of femininity with all the benefits of being a boy. So Tim had playfully winked at him one day. Ever since, Aaron made excuses to talk to Tim after class, practically panting each sentence in his enthusiasm. Today was no exception. As they walked through the halls, Aaron filled the silence between them with an air of desperation, as if searching for the magic phrase that would make Tim want to be with him.
“It’s like, I wish there was another year of college,” he was saying. “I could use the time to figure out what the hell I want to do, you know?”
Tim nodded. He certainly did.
“When you’re a kid you think, ‘oh, I’ll be a doctor,’ and it’s as simple as that. What am I going to do with a degree in fashion design? I like dressing up, but I could give a shit what anyone else wants to wear. You know what I’m thinking of doing after I graduate? Going to a beauty academy.”
Tim glanced over at him. “You need a degree to get into one of those places?”
“More like five thousand bucks.” Aaron laughed madly. “My parents are going to kill me, but I don’t care. They made me come here. I told them after high school that I just want to cut hair and give makeovers! Me, making the world more beautiful, one middle-aged woman at a time.”
Shamelessly proud of who he was, Aaron had the blond hair and the slender frame. He wasn’t so different from Ben, really. Maybe he would be close enough. Tim stopped, Aaron walking a few more steps before he noticed.
“What’s up?”
“Come here,” Tim said, voice husky.
Aaron fidgeted and flushed before he complied. When he was close enough, Tim put a hand on his neck, leaned forward, and kissed him. Aaron tasted like the gum he’d been smacking, his breath minty fresh. He was a good kisser, letting Tim lead but not remaining passive. And Tim felt nothing. Not even a stirring in his pants.
“What was that for?” Aaron grinned when Tim pulled away.
“Just because. I’ll see you around.”
Once outside, Tim walked around the building to get away from the parking lot where their cars were. When he felt enough distance, he leaned against the brick wall of the building and resisted the urge to bang the back of his head against it. So stupid! Of course no one could compare to Ben, but it had seemed worth a shot anyway. Life would be so much easier if he could move on.
Tim knew now that he couldn’t.
* * * * *
Nights were sleepless, even though he jogged more than usual, or played countless games with Chinchilla. Even with his body exhausted, Tim’s mind was fevered, refusing to rest as he considered scheme after scheme of getting Ben back. One thing was for sure: as long as Jace was in the picture, he didn’t stand a chance. So his focus shifted to separating them somehow. The plan he came up with wasn’t brilliant, but it was his only shot.
The following week, after his contemporary art course, he invited Aaron out for coffee. What he proposed would probably get him slapped in the face, considering how perked up Aaron was. They sat across from each other at a table with a chessboard surface. This was the same coffee shop where Tim had found Ben again, providing him with all the motivation he needed.
He told Aaron a condensed version of his history with Ben, and slowly Aaron’s shoulders began to droop. Only when Tim got to the end did Aaron straighten up hopefully.
“So it sounds like it’s over between you two,” he said.
Tim nodded. “Yeah. But I can’t move on. I keep trying…” He looked at Aaron meaningfully. “This guy Ben’s with—he’s no good.” A lie. Jace was too good, but the truth wouldn’t help his cause. “Maybe if they weren’t together anymore I could get over it.”
“There’s not much you can do about that,” Aaron said dismissively.
“I think there is.”
“Oh?”
Tim leaned back. “What if someone wrote Jace a love letter? The guy travels all the time, which would give him plenty of opportunity to mess around on Ben.”
“So… what? You send a love letter to Jace and hope Ben finds it?” Aaron scoffed. “Jace will just throw it away.”
Time to move in for the kill. “Right, but if Ben sees this guy leaving the letter for Jace, maybe tacking it to his door…”
“A-ha. Let me guess. You want me to be that guy.”
Tim gave a slow smile. “I can’t exactly do it myself.”
Aaron pursed his lips. “I’m not stupid, you know. You just want them to break up so you can get to Ben.”
Fuck. Time for a new strategy. “I can make it worth your while.”
“Really? How?”
There was something disturbing in the way Aaron looked at him, like he thought Tim would gladly whip it out in return for this favor. “I mean money,” he said. “Beauty school tuition.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“We can go to the bank right now. All you have to do is write the letter and make sure Ben sees you delivering it. I know what time he gets out of class. He always heads over to Jace’s afterwards.”
“You’re crazy.”
Tim shrugged. “Might as well take advantage of me. Five grand for what, ten minutes work?”
Aaron’s eyes narrowed but his lips twitched at the corners. Tim had him hooked.
* * * * *
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. Friedrich Nietzsche was certainly right about that, but Tim wondered if the German philosopher had ever hidden at home while paying someone else to do his dirty work. Tim wasn’t alone, either. Next to him perspiring over textbooks was his alibi. Jessica was a fellow student, and to Tim’s credit, when she had advertised needing a study buddy, he hadn’t yet hatched his evil scheme. But he knew Ben was smart. Tim would be under instant suspicion, and so he took advantage of the opportunity.
Tim invited Jessica over for the afternoon, trying his best to focus on the study material. Mostly he let her talk, only occasionally asking a question to fake interest, when really all he could think of was his stupid plan.
He had felt convinced of the idea until this morning. So much could go wrong. What if Jace found Aaron tacking it to the door? Or what if Ben had plans with Allison and didn’t even go to Jace’s apartment? As the afternoon wore on, Tim was convinced it had been a failure.
Then he heard a pounding on the door.
“Be right back,” Tim said, running to answer it and finding Ben, his face crimson with anger.
“Who’s here?” he snarled.
Uh oh. “Just someone from school.”
Ben glared in disbelief before pushing past him. Oh man, was he pissed! Tim followed him to the living room, waiting just outside the door and imagining Ben discovering Jessica surrounded by books and notes.
“Is that your car outside?”
“Huh?” Jessica sounded completely lost, which was perfect. “Yeah. Do I need to move it?”
“No. Sorry.” Ben’s voice sounded more embarrassed than angry now, so Tim made an appearance.
“Actually,” he said to Jessica, “we’re going to have to do this tomorrow. Something’s come up.”
Jessica panicked. “There’s only two days left!”
“I know. We’ll really nail it tomorrow, promise.”
Jessica gathered her things and left, the look of terror never leaving her face. Oh, those pesky finals! Tim would be worried about them if he didn’t have Eric’s money, but these days his focus was on Ben.
Chinchilla danced at Ben’s feet as he sank into the couch. She yapped for his attention, peeing in excitement, but Ben was too deflated to respond. Tim grabbed the paper towels he always had nearby and cleaned up, glancing up at Ben. God, it was good to see him again! Even if he did look miserable.
“You didn’t leave a note on Jace’s door, did you?” Ben asked. “Or have someone else do it?”
“No.” Tim sat up, as if concerned. “Why? What happened?”
And it all played out, just like in his fantasies. Well, almost. Ben didn’t throw himself into Tim’s arms, but as he talked, his anger was directed only at Jace. Tim grabbed a couple of beers to help the process along as Ben became more and more agitated. And then it all went terribly wrong.
“You know, if he was going to cheat on me,” Ben said, “I wish he just would have asked. I would have let him, if he wanted to. I don’t care. I mean, it would have hurt, but it’s better than him lying to me. That’s the worst part, because it makes me wonder what else he’s lied about. Not about cheating, but—” Ben’s voice cracked. “What if he lied about loving me? Why else would he sleep around?”
There were tears. Only a couple, but like the ghost of Christmas past, they brought Tim right back to the night when he watched Ben crying in his backyard. That moment had been the lowest in Tim’s life, and now he had done it all over again. Ben was hurt, and it was all his fault.
“I’m going to throw some pizzas in the oven,” he mumbled, getting to his feet and feeling unsteady as he left the room. He couldn’t stand to see Ben like this, didn’t want to face it.
Once in the kitchen, he tried to compose himself. The damage was done. Ben would be hurt either way, whether he believed the lie or knew the truth. His anger might focus back on Tim, but the hurt would remain. Swallowing the bitter taste of guilt, Tim decided to press forward.
He brought another couple of beers with him to the living room, needing a drink as much as Ben did. Even the alcohol didn’t allow Tim to enjoy his victory. Night came and Ben was too drunk to drive home, so Tim invited him to stay over. When Ben stumbled into his arms, making a clumsy pass at him, Tim felt repulsed by what he had done and guided Ben to one of the guest rooms. Then he went to his own room, helping Chinchilla into bed before crawling in himself. Lying on his back, he stared at the ceiling, prepared for another sleepless night.
* * * * *
I can make him happy.
These simple words carried Tim through the next three days. Ben was busy with finals, and Tim had little time himself, but he would have given up graduating if Ben wanted to be with him. He called Ben whenever he could and talked him into a quick lunch once. The subject of Jace never came up, Tim too scared to broach it. He prayed that all of this hadn’t been for naught, but ultimately decided to stop agonizing over hurting Ben and to focus on his conviction.
He could make Ben happy. Much more than Jace ever had. If he had made Ben happy in their teens, when Tim’s efforts had been half-assed and incompetent, then surely now would be so much better.
Saturday was hellishly hot, and while Ben had told him on the phone that he’d be busy working on his thesis, Tim called anyway and invited him over for a swim. The second Ben said yes, Tim sprang into action, fishing leaves out of the pool, whipping up a pitcher of Kool-Aid, and checking his appearance in the mirror. He already wore suggestively tight swim trunks—not that Ben didn’t know what he was packing—and he fussed over his hair, trying to decide if he should gel it into messy spikes or leave it natural since they would be swimming. He still hadn’t decided when he heard Ben open the front door.
“Chinchilla, come!” Tim ran for the back patio, picking up the serving tray with the Kool-Aid and balancing it like a waiter. He had hoped Chinchilla would stand obediently at his side, but instead she attacked the stack of towels and was dragging one away.
Then Ben came through the sliding glass door, wearing a navy blue pair of swim trunks, a light blue tank top, and flip flops. He was dressed like a beach bum but still had finals gloom hanging over him. They would soon fix that.
“Monsieur.” Tim gave a cordial nod and brought the tray around, setting it down and pouring Ben a glass.
“Thanks,” Ben gasped after a big swallow, “but the pool is the only thing that’ll cool me down.”
“After you,” Tim said. He watched Ben strip off his shirt, wanting to do it for him, to run his hands along the sides of his torso, brush his fingers along his ribs and tickle the blondish-brown wisps of armpit hair. Ben locked eyes with him as he stepped out of his flip-flops. The last time they had been this undressed together, they had kissed in the grotto at Splashtown. Now it felt as if they were starting from where they’d left off. Or so Tim hoped.
Ben went to the pool and sat on the edge, testing the water with his feet before plopping in. Tim cannonballed after him. Ben bobbed beneath the water and came up again, his hair slicked back. “This is really nice.”
Tim waded closer to him. “It’s not bad. Too small to do any laps, making it a glorified bathtub.”
“Pools are meant for relaxing, not working out.”
“Working out is relaxing.”
Ben smirked. “Whatever, muscle boy.”
“I don’t remember you ever complaining.” Tim dove, showing off with an underwater handstand before surfacing again. “Finals out of the way?”
“Yeah.” Ben nodded.
“And Jace?” he said casually. “You two patch things up yet?”
Ben turned away from him, his expression hidden. “Kind of the opposite. We’re taking a break.”
Tim mentally exchanged a high-five with God. “Wow. Benjamin Bentley is back on the market.”
“Not exactly.”
“No?”
“I don’t know.”
Okay, that was vague, but a break was a break. Tim didn’t want him thinking about Jace, so he playfully splashed Chinchilla, who grumbled and barked from the pool’s edge. Ben laughed and joined in, missing on purpose. Then Tim challenged him to a race, a quick swim to the end of the pool and back.
“Ready?” he said, poised to win. “One, two, three!” Tim took off, reaching the end of the pool and turning to head back when he noticed Ben was still there.
“Beat you,” Ben said.
“You never left!”
“How do you know? Are there any security cameras around here? Check them and you’ll see my lightning-fast swimming skills.”
Tim shook his head and swam back to him. “Why don’t you show me while I sit this one out.”
Ben looked offended. “Are you kidding? Moving like that is exhausting! I need a break.” He swam over to the ladder and climbed out, the weight of the water pressing the swim trunks close to his body and revealing every detail. Then Tim followed, flopping facedown on the deck chair next to Ben’s.
“Put some oil on my back?” he invited.
Ben snorted. “Could you think of a more clichéd line?”
“Tried and true,” Tim argued. “It’s withstood the test of time for a reason.”
“Fair enough.”
Tim waited until he felt Ben sitting on the edge of his deck chair, blood already pounding at their closeness. Then he rolled over. “Think my front needs some, actually.”
Ben looked at him, his eyes almost pleading, but Tim wasn’t sure whether it was for him to stop or keep going—until Ben turned the bottle upside down, drizzling oil on to his chest. Then Ben placed his hand there, fingers warm despite the dip in the pool. Tim wanted to cry. The emotion turned to lust when Ben moved his hand across his skin, slowly making his way south.
Tim couldn’t take it anymore. He took Ben’s arms and pulled him down forcefully. Their lips met, but this time Ben didn’t hesitate, and there would be no interruptions. Their lips mashed together with desperation, as if they were both starving for each other. Then the rest of their bodies caught up as they scrabbled at each other’s swimsuits.
As soon as they were nude, Ben climbed onto Tim, the deck chair creaking as they pressed against each other. If the kiss at Splashtown had been fire, this was an inferno. Tim couldn’t remember ever burning like this, his need shutting out thought as he gave way to raw sensation. He took the oil, using it to lube them both as Ben ground against him, but he needed everything, needed to be as close to him as humanly possible. He shifted Ben upward, grabbing his wrists and pinning them behind his back so Ben’s full weight was on him. Ben writhed and Tim shifted until they were lined up. Then Tim gently pressed inside.
Ecstasy! He wanted the moment to last the rest of their lives. Let them grow old and turn to dust in this very deck chair, because what they had now was perfection. They were one, inseparable, the five years between them melting away like a bad dream. When they exploded together, their panting bodies sticky with sweat, Tim was sure it had been just that—a horrible nightmare, but now they had woken up together.
Tim released Ben for only a second so he could wrap his arms around him. “Welcome back.”
Ben sighed against his chest, but when he raised his head, he was grinning. “You have no idea how many times I fantasized about this.”
“What, sex by the pool?”
“You know what I mean.” Ben let his head rest on him again. “Us somehow finding each other and giving in one more time.”
“I want way more than once,” Tim said, squeezing him.
“Ow!” Ben wheezed.
“Sorry.”
When he could breathe again, Ben laughed. Then he rolled to his side, propping himself up. “I never stopped thinking about you. I wanted to. Sometimes I would make it days or even weeks, but inevitably, you’d pop up in my mind.”
“Same here,” Tim said. “There’s probably a reason for that. A sound, scientific explanation.”
Ben rolled his eyes and gave him a playful nudge. “We’re having a moment here.”
“Sorry.” Tim put on a sober expression. “You want to move in with me? Get married in the morning? I’ll even build you a white picket fence.”
Ben sighed. “Of course in my fantasies, I forgot how full of shit you are.”
“Try me,” Tim dared. “Whatever you want. Name it.”
When Ben looked at him, Tim was sure he finally understood how serious he felt. Then Ben gave a gentle smile. “How about dinner with your parents?”
Tim laughed. “All right, but you have to show up like it’s an accident. I’ll call you the next time my mom is making chile rellenos.” Ben chuckled, but Tim wasn’t done. “I’m serious. About what I said, I mean. Whatever you want.”
Ben exhaled as if facing a serious decision. “Let’s let it develop naturally. By that I mean slowly. Things are still a little weird for me right now, you know?”
Jace. But Tim was no longer worried about him, so he nodded. “It might not be my mom’s cooking, but I can take you to dinner. I read about this place where you bring your dog and they also cook for her.”
“Seriously?”
“I shit you not.”
Ben glanced over at Chinchilla. “But she’s not potty-trained.”
“Maybe they ask you about that like a smoking preference. ‘Would you like pissing, or non-pissing, sir?’”
Ben laughed at his dumb joke, just like he always had… and with a little luck, always would.