19
Alex double checks the lights in the laundry and the kitchen and goes out to the courtyard, pulling the kitchen door shut behind him. Ben waits by the gate to the beach, hands in his pockets, watching the waves. Alex puts his arms around him and rests his cheek against his head.
“You’re short,” he says.
“No, I’m not.” Ben leans back against him. “You’re just a freak of nature.”
Alex smiles and kisses his head.
“Maybe but I’m your freak of nature.”
“Yeah, you are.” Ben rubs his hands along Alex’s forearms. “Guess we should get going.”
“Yeah. Ready?’
“No.”
They walk to the front of the house where the BMW and the Volvo are packed ready to leave. Bart is in his usual spot in the back of Alex’s car, head on his paws waiting. The rest of the car is filled with Polly’s things – clothes, books, photographs, her computer. Polly herself is in the BMW, dressed in a tie-dyed tee-shirt and cotton pedal pushers, pink hair tucked under a baseball cap. A pair of large, round, tortoise shell sunglasses hide her eyes; Alex knows they also hide the large black circles that haven’t yet left. In her lap is a wooden box over the top of which Polly’s fingers draw endless circles. They picked the box up from the crematorium yesterday and she hasn’t let it out of her sight. Alex leans in to kiss her cheek.
“Don’t let him use his phone while he’s driving.”
Polly pats his hand and smiles.
“I’ll make sure he behaves,” she says. “Drive carefully, young man.”
He turns back to Ben and kisses him.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he says. Ben nods. “I’ll see you at Davey’s. I love you.”
“I love you back,” Ben says, kisses him again and climbs in the BMW and starts it up. “Okay then old lady, let’s show him how real people drive, shall we?”
Smiling, Alex gets in the Volvo and follows them out of the driveway.
They stop at Davey’s where, after walking Bart, Alex and Polly both have salads and Ben picks at a piece of chicken breast before giving it to Bart. Alex squeezes his hand without a word.
They’re early enough to miss the heavy traffic into Encino and by three o’clock are emptying the cars while Polly makes iced tea in the kitchen. Claire and Matt have filled the fridge with food they just have to reheat and Alex finds a cheesecake with Ben’s name scribbled on the plastic container.
“Claire says she’ll come over tomorrow and take Polly out for lunch and to do some shopping if she's interested,” Alex says as they wait for the lift with the last load.
“That would be good. I need to get to the office early and start getting caught up but I’ll try to not be too late home.” Ben rubs his face. He’s let his beard grow in over the past week and Alex hasn’t decided yet if he likes it or not. It’s longer and thicker than his own scruff, a shade darker than Ben’s hair, and Alex has noticed, but hasn’t mentioned, some parts are more grey than blonde. Although it suits him, it makes him look older, and, Alex thinks, sad. He’s not sure how much he likes that.
“Best get you to bed early then,” he says as the lift doors open.
“Got something in mind, baby?” Ben grabs a photo album that’s about to slide off the top of the carton he’s carrying. Alex rolls his eyes.
“God, how old are you?”
Ben grins and sticks his tongue between his teeth; on impulse Alex leans forward and kisses him over the top of the carton, the beard isn’t so bad with that grin.
“Your grandmother is staying.”
“And your point is?” Ben asks as he opens the apartment door. “Just so long as you make sure the baby monitor is switched off.”
“Oh, shut up,” Alex huffs and pushes past him, happy to hear Ben laughing.
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“Ben,” Alex pants, curling his fingers into the sheet beneath him, “Ben…Ben….”
Teeth nip at the back of his neck and warm fingers move beneath him, stroking him closer to release. Skin slides against skin, chest to back, hips locked together.
“Baby,” Ben groans in his ear, “I’m going to … oh fuck …”
Ben’s body shudders and stiffens; he buries his face in Alex’s hair, moaning and whimpering.
“Ben,” Alex cries out once and then his breath is stolen from him as he climaxes, head thrown back against Ben.
It’s a few moments before either of them can move, Ben pulls away and drops on to the bed on his back, one knee raised, hand splayed across his chest, breathing still labored. Alex turns on his side, props his head on one hand and cups Ben’s face, turns it toward him.
“Better?” he asks with a smile.
“Yeah, better.” Ben brushes Alex’s hair away from his eyes. “You need a haircut.”
“I thought you liked my hair long,” Alex teases.
“I do but at the moment you look like one of those sheepdogs, I like to be able to see your eyes.”
“I’ll get it trimmed for your majesty.” Alex nestles his head in the dip of Ben’s shoulder, grimacing at the damp sheets. “God, I hope Polly didn’t hear any of that.”
“You turn the baby monitor off?”
“Fuck you,” Alex retorts without thinking and Ben snorts.
“You just did,” he says and catches Alex’s hand before it lands the slap. Twists his head and kiss him with a smile. Alex shifts against him and mutters in disgust.
“Okay, up, I’m changing these sheets,” he says.
“What?”
“I am not sleeping in these. God knows what you did in them while I was away and we’ve just made a mess of them. Come on, move your ass.”
Grumbling, Ben gets up and strips the sheets from the bed while Alex pulls on his bathrobe and disappears in search of some fresh ones. Ten minutes later they’re spooned together beneath the clean, cool linen. Alex runs a thumb along the knuckles of Ben’s hand, feels sleep creeping up on him.
“I miss her,” Ben whispers.
Alex tightens his hold around him and presses a kiss to his shoulder.
“I know.”
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