Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy (Murder Daddy #3)

6. 2

“You’ve got it.”

I try to wrack my brain for any set of words that might match the happiness he’s just given me, but as usual, I fall short. I choke, unable to form syllables, much less a response. Thankfully, the universe must be looking out for me, because Nate’s phone dings, then a video call comes through. He answers the call first, practically beaming at Benji.

Benji’s back at his desk, his cheeks redder than before. He darts his eyes across the screen, probably looking for me. As soon as he spots me in the background, a smile settles on his face. I know we’re codependent—Benito practically whipped the words into us toward the end of our relationship—but I think we’ll always be like this, matching outfits and all.

“I missed you,” I tell him. He was only gone a few minutes, but those minutes felt like lifetimes. I really don’t like that he’s not here with me . . . with us . Because that’s where he belongs.

His cheeks burn even darker and he winks at me. “Missed you too. And you, Dad.”

“I was wondering if you forgot about me,” Nate teases.

“Never,” Benji declare I say at the same time, and it makes Nate’s beautiful smile spread wider.

“I sent you pictures,” Benji says. “But you’ve got to look at them in order. You see, when we were showering before work, Bennet was ogling me like a complete tramp, and that’s when he noticed it. He said it was a growth, but I don’t know.”

Well, that’s a flat-out lie. The truth is, when we were showering, I did everything I could to keep things as normal as possible between us. I did what I always did; I washed him. My hands roamed over his body, spreading rose-scented soap across every square inch of his skin. There was something different this time, though. I allowed myself to look at him. To really see him as a man, and not just my best friend. That’s when I noticed the small freckle on the underside of his cock. I was kneeling in front of him, scrubbing his balls for all their worth, when I saw a new side to Benji. One I’d never seen before. It was like every inch of him had been hidden by a selfie filter all this time, and he finally turned off the filter. I saw the veins as they traveled across his cock in intricate pathways, sometimes leading to little blue forks in the road. A small valley in the skin above his penis. The way his head was wider than its base kind of reminded me of a dandelion; like if I were to pucker my lips and blow, my other half might disintegrate right in front of me. I kept my lips shut tight, just in case. Then I noticed it. A small brown freckle on the underside of the head.

I’m about to see it again, and heat floods through me at the realization. Even more confusingly, I want to see it. No. Not just want—I think I need to see it. Benji’s dick. Nate’s reaction to Benji’s dick.

“Hand me to Bennet,” he instructs, and I’m kind of expecting Nate to scold him for not saying please, but he must hear the urgency in Benji’s voice because he doesn’t say a word, just places Benji’s nervous face in my hand. I stare down at the phone with an eyebrow raised, but he flashes me a look I know all too well. He needs assurance, and I’m happy to provide it to him. I give him an “everything is okay” expression, and, as he always does, Benji reads my expression like an instruction manual. His breathing slows and the nervousness tempers off. “Okay. Show them to him, but go in order.”

“Can . . . Benji, can I look too?”

He blushes so beautifully I almost can’t stand it. “You can look at me as much as you want, Bennet. I don’t mind. Honest.”

My cheeks are a little warmer, too, as I bring up Nate’s message chain with Benji. Once it loads, I’m immediately accosted by four new images of him in various stages of arousal, the freckle not identifiable in any of them. The last image makes my mouth water, so I don’t think that’s one I should show Nate, because it’s depraved, even for us. So, I start at the beginning.

The first picture gives me a bird’s-eye view of Benji standing in front of a urinal at the agency. He’s got his cock out, not erect in the slightest. I love seeing him like this, just in a casual state of undress, with no real goal of ejaculation. I think even if Benji’s soft cock was the only thing I ever saw in my life, I still would have seen the world. His dick dangles over his underwear’s waistband, his soft, smooth balls lifted high and tight to his body.

“What do you think? Is it something he should be worried about?” I ask, handing Nate the phone. Nate blinks at it a few times, like he’s trying to put puzzle pieces together in his mind. He reaches behind him and grabs his horn-rimmed glasses from the bedside table. I don’t even remember him taking them off.

Once he’s got his glasses on, his eyes almost bulge out of his head. “That’s your penis,” he comments, like none of us have seen a penis before and need to be told. He stares at the phone, but I think he’s staring at Benji’s face in the corner of the screen. “Son, I think you’ve made a mistake. You’ve just sent me a picture of your bare penis.”

“Yes, sir,” he says. “There’s a mole. Or maybe it’s a growth. Like I said, we’re not really sure which, and we could use your opinion. There’s another one too, flip to the next picture; it might be easier to see there.”

Nate shakes his head. “No, I know that. I just meant … if the mole is on the underside of your penis, why would you send me a picture that doesn’t show the underside of said penis?”

I figure this is the part where Nate will realize we’re toying with him and he’ll either kick us out or call us cheeky scamps. He does neither of those things. Almost in a haze, he flips to the next image, inspecting it inch by inch.

“I don’t see anything here either, son.” He’s chewing on his cheek, staring at the screen like it’s one of those optical illusion books my mom used to buy. “Unless I’m just looking at it wrong.” He double taps the image to zoom in, his eyes widening as Benji’s penis expands across his phone. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and there’s a sheen of sweat peppering his brow. After a solid forty seconds of staring, Nate finally shakes his head. “No. Not in this one either.” His voice is thick and raspy, and it’s a tone I’ve only heard a handful of times.

“Try the next one,” Benji says, sounding breathless. I look into the corner of the phone and have to bite my tongue to stop from scolding him. He’s behind our desk at work, the phone propped in front of the computer. He’s got one hand on the desk, but the other is out of frame. His shoulder is moving at a rapid pace, though, and he lets out a soft moan. “What do you think, Dad? What do you think of my pictures?”

Nate swipes to the right, his eyes bulging when the picture pops up. The next one is even better than the last. Benji’s fully erect, and it’s just out there for anyone to see. The sound of slick friction comes through Nate’s speaker, but he must not notice it. I don’t know how he hasn’t, because Benji clearly wants him to hear, if his soft moans are any indication.

“Sweet Jesus,” Nate whispers, staring at Benji’s cock. His mouth opens and closes a few times, but nothing comes out except his breath. More of that cinnamon goodness. I wish Benji were here to smell it with me. Truthfully, I wish Benji were here for a lot more than the intoxicating scent of Nate’s oral hygiene. I kind of want to see what he’s doing under the desk. He looks so fucking beautiful this way, lost in his pleasure. Lost in the sight of Nate. Maybe even a little lost because of me. “No,” Nate finally says. “No growth in this one, either.”

I point at Benji’s cock on the phone and give Nate a feigned look of confusion. “Nuh-uh.” I swipe back to the last picture he was looking at, then forward again to image number three. “There’s a lot of growth between these pictures. See? He was soft in the other, but he’s almost all the way hard in this one.”

Nate’s eyes bulge, and he sets the phone on the bed. “That’s . . . that isn’t what I meant.” Sweat is pouring down his face, and I just need to touch him. To bring him back, because I think we might have just pushed him too far.

“Hey,” I whisper, rising to my knees and reaching over him to grab a tissue from the nightstand. I use the Kleenex to halfheartedly dry his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

He blinks a few times, his eyes locking on the phone, then on me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what just happened.” He’s starting to sound like his old self. It’s as if clouds have parted, making way for more of his sunshine. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Once it’s out, his eyes open, and he has an almost clinical look on his face, like he’s conversing with strangers. Nate grabs the phone and studies the image again before shaking his head. I’m still kneeling in front of him, and I quickly realize this was a mistake, because my cock is unbearably hard, and it’s tenting out my pants further the longer I’m next to him.

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I roll my hips, dragging the head across his stomach as I lean in, pretending to look at the picture. Nate either doesn’t notice or he simply doesn’t care enough to call me out, because he flips to the next picture.

This image—the unhinged photograph I wasn’t sure Nate should see—is beautiful. It was taken at the same angle as the last, but there’s a big pearl of pre-cum clinging desperately to the head.

“Benjamin,” Nate rasps.

“What do you think?” Benji asks. “Does it look okay?”

I’m not sure if he’s talking about his cock overall or the freckle. Nate doesn’t seem to know either, because he just keeps staring at it, refusing to look away. “It’s perfect,” he finally admits, his voice cracked and broken, making him sound exhausted.

“You really think so?”

“I do,” Nate says. “You have a very lovely penis, son. You should be proud.”

“It’s not too little?”

Nate licks his fucking lips, and it’s an action that makes my heart swell with hope. “It’s . . . incredible .”

Benji makes a choked gasp, pulling our attention away from his penis, back to the smaller image of him at our desk. His arm is moving ninety-to-nothing, and there’s no longer any chance of denying what he’s doing. He’s making no attempt to hide his actions.

“Tell me it’s pretty,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please?”

“It’s very pretty,” Nate and I answer together, and it feels like lightning’s crashing down my spine. I grab Nate’s hand and hold on tight, and from the look he’s giving me, I think he might have felt a little of that lightning, too. I want to throw myself around him and refuse to let go. Me on one hip, Benji on the other.

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

Benji’s cheeks are red, but he doesn’t stop stroking himself. Nate must realize what Benji’s doing, because he looks scandalized. “Will you set it as your background?”

Nate gapes at him. “You want me to set an image of your erection as my phone’s background?”

“Please?” he whines, his voice sounding like a whistling kettle. “Need it. Need you to look at it every single day, Dad.”

“Why?” Nate chokes out.

“It makes me feel like I’m not a freak ’cause it’s so small. Need it so bad it hurts.”

Nate breathes heavily. “All right.” It’s my turn to be flabbergasted. My mouth falls open as I watch Nate flick through the images. “Which one would you like me to use?”

“The last one,” he says. “It looks the biggest there.”

Nate sets the image as his phone’s background, but pauses when it asks if he wants to set it as his lock screen. After a moment of contemplation, he decides against it, which is probably for the best. “Done. I’ve got it set as my background.”

Benji moans like an absolute slut. “You’re gonna look at my cock every day.” He’s working himself faster, and Nate and I just stare at him, thunderstruck by his brazenness.

“I know what you’re doing, Benjamin, and I think you should stop. You’re in public and someone could see you, son.”

“Too close,” Benji whines, his arm working faster. “Can I? Please, Dad? I need it. You said you’d give me what I need.” The slick sound increases, and he’s staring desperately into the phone. “Please?”

Nate doesn’t seem like he plans on saying a word, so it’s up to me to give my best friend what he needs. “You’re sure no one can see?”

“No one’s in here. It’s just me.”

Nate sighs. “Okay, then. Yeah, Benji. You can. It’s okay, baby. Come for me.”

Those words are all it takes to drive Benji over the edge. His head falls back against the chair, his body writhing as he moans out, “Fuck. Coming. I’m coming. Bennet, Dad, I’m . . .” He cries out, his voice high in pitch and heavy with heat.

“Dammit,” Nate sighs, not sounding mad, just disappointed. He glances over at me with a defeated look on his face. “This is the second exhibitionist son I’ve raised. Where the heck am I going wrong, buddy?” My cock is throbbing. Jilting and jolting around like crazy beneath my pajamas. Nate doesn’t notice, though. I inch a little closer, and, as if we’re starring in some rom-com written by Satan himself, the button on my pajamas comes unfastened, and, of course, my cock flies free from its confines.

His eyes dart down, widening the longer he stares. It’s like he can’t look away. My penis is the elephant in the room, and it’s rendered him speechless. His heavy gaze makes me flinch, sending my cock dancing in the air. It dips and hops up and down like a seesaw, and his eyes track its every move.

“Bennet,” he whispers, but then he doesn’t say anything else.

“God, that was incredible,” Benji says, sounding exhausted. “Are you guys still there? You’re awfully quiet.”

Nate’s eyes bore into me, but he aims his words at Benji. “We’re still here, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

God. I’ve wanted to hear that all my life. It’s what all my friends’ parents would call their spouses. It’s warmth and sunshine incarnate, and I wanna hear someone say it to me too. Tatum always refused because he said it sounded like something old people say, but now his husband says it all the time. Nito damn sure didn’t say it. Austin tried once, but he said it sounded weird.

When I grab Nate’s thigh, I dig my nails in, no longer caring that my erection is fully visible. I’m giving him a pleading look, because I don’t want him to call Benji his sweetheart and not get to hear it for myself. I don’t want to end up as some third wheel in whatever this thing is between us. I just want him to love me. For Benji to love me too, the way I love him.

I suck in a sharp breath.

Jesus Christ. I’m in love with him. I’m in love with my best friend, and I had no fucking clue. How is that even possible? How can you spend nearly twenty years attached at the hip and still not know yourself enough to realize you’ve fallen in love?

“Oh, sweetheart,” Nate whispers, and it’s enough to ease some of my . . . jealousy? I don’t even think that’s what this is. Or what it was? Fuck, I don’t know. My head’s all over the place thanks to whatever the hell over-the-counter medication Nate gave me earlier. But he just said it. He called me his sweetheart, and it makes me feel all tingly inside. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Baby?” I ask, more to try it on for size than anything. Luckily, I like the way it fits. “Is that what I am to you?”

“Oh Bennet,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist. He pulls me forward until I’m flush against him. Since he’s seated and I’m still on my knees, it’s an action that wedges my cock between us, and I involuntarily roll my hips, seeking friction.

Nate pats my ass gently, and when the pat is done, he just leaves his hand there, holding me by the butt. “Naughty boy,” he teases. “Of course that’s what you are to me. My baby boy.” His hand grips my ass even tighter. “That’s what you’ll always be. You don’t ever have to worry about that. I promise, I’m not going anywhere, and you can be my baby as long as you need to.” He clears his throat, his face pained. “Until you boys find yourselves a Daddy, at least.”

He looks so taken aback by the realization, like it’s the logical next step in Benji and my lives. For a man who counsels wayward spouses for a living, he’s not all that good at reading a room.

I force a pout when all I really want to do is slam our lips together. “You said you’d keep us forever. Are you taking the offer back?”

“He said what?” Benji practically squeals. I shoot him a glare, because even though I love him, I need him to shut the fuck up while I’m working on this. I’m doing this for both of our sakes. For our hearts’ sakes. He just needs to trust me.

“Are you taking it back?” Since my cheek isn’t anywhere near him, Nate kisses my chest through the fabric of my shirt. “Please don’t take it back.” Another kiss, lighter this time, but he lets it linger. “Never take it back, okay?”

Nate swallows, slowly shaking his head. “I’m not. I just figured you boys would get tired of living with your old man eventually and want to find someone that will make you happy . . . sexually.”

God, the way he’s said the word makes it sound tawdry. I fucking love it. I want to blurt out that we don’t need a Daddy anymore, because he’s all the daddy we need. I don’t, because that’s a decision I’ll need to make with Benji first.

Nate stares down at my still-exposed cock, unable to look away. “Son, you either need to take care of that bad boy, or you need to put it away.”

“Why can’t I keep it out like this?” I say this mainly to buy time, because I know if I so much as touch my cock, it’ll blow, and Nate will be the newest recipient of my frothy cream. “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I? I didn’t mean to?—”

Nate shakes his head. “I’m not uncomfortable, it’s just, at some point you have to either spit or get off the pot, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s the saying,” I point out.

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t enjoy discussing bowel movements.” He pats my hip, eyeing my cock with an amused expression. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

“Doing what?”

“Making it bounce up and down,” Nate clarifies. “Are you trying to make it dance?”

“Bennet?” Benji asks, pulling my attention back to him. His voice is smaller than before. Smaller than I’ve ever heard it, really.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have an erection?”

Fuck, I really didn’t expect to be called out like this. I didn’t realize I’d need to plan for an inquisition about these new confusing feelings inside of me. I’ve never looked at Benji like this. Hell, I’ve never looked at anyone quite like this. The sight of Benji’s beautiful eyes—so much like my own—his soft blond hair, and skin that looks like it hasn’t seen the sun in decades are all doing things to me I never knew possible. I didn’t even get this hard for Tatum, and Tatum’s ass is to die for.

I could lie. It would be easy. Honestly, it would probably be the right thing to do—but I’ve never lied to Benjamin Applebaum. He’s the other half of my heart and lying to him would be like lying to myself.

“Because of you,” I finally admit, too scared to look at his reaction. “Because of the pictures.” I risk a glance, and when I do, Benji’s got this bashful look on his face. It’s full of innocence and sunshine. There’s nervousness, but also a knowingness, because he knows me better than anyone in the world.

Benji. My Benji. My brother.

He’s like a work of art. A human masterpiece.

“You mean it?” he asks nervously, motioning up and down his body with his hand. “You really like me? Like, you think I’m cute and stuff?”

I lick my lips, because yeah, I really like what I’m seeing, but I’m fucking terrified to admit it. This isn’t us. We don’t ogle each other. There’s a whole bunch of change happening right now, and it feels like I’m barely holding my head above water. I roll onto my back, settling into Nate’s side.

“Is that okay?”

He looks just as vulnerable as I feel right now. This is unfamiliar territory for us—territory I hadn’t even known existed before last night. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s okay.”

“I’m proud of you, buddy,” Nate says encouragingly. He’s right beside me, leaning against the pillows he has propped against the headboard. “For telling Benji how you feel. If you need to come, then you should. I’ll stay here with you the whole time. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. Neither of us mind. Go on. It’s okay. Let me help you. Like last night.”

Last night ended with me dry-fucking his hip, so I doubt that’s the kind of help he’s offering . . . but even if it isn’t, I still can’t do this without Benji. All or nothing. Beginning to end, that’s what I promised him. It’s what I promised myself. I know Benji’s essentially given me the green light, but I don’t fucking want it. It’s him I want. I need him and I need him now.

“Bennet,” Benji says, sounding nervous. His eyes meet mine, and he licks his lips. “If you need to come, I don’t mind.”

“I can’t. Not without you here. It doesn’t feel right. I promised you I’d wait until you got home.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, remembering your promise to him,” Nate praises, and when I turn to look at him, he’s still got that same serious expression on his face. He’s also got a snot bubble forming, which, any other time, might make me want to run away in disgust, but with Nate, I don’t want to run. How could I? I want to wipe that little green bubble away, so his face is back to its perfect state. That’s exactly what I do. When I lean over him, the professional exterior he’s erected around himself cracks, and he gasps, his hips rising an inch off the bed when my hand is hovering over his clothed cock. Yeah. He’s definitely into this. I grab a tissue from the nightstand and hold it against his nose.

“Blow,” I instruct, and after a pause, he softly blows. It takes another three tissues, but when we’ve finally got him easy-breezy again, he offers me a shy smile.

“Thanks, Bennet.”

I lean in and kiss the bridge of his nose. “You’re very welcome.”

Benji sniffles, pulling our attention back to him. “I wanna come home. I hate it here without you. Hate filing these stupid papers and typing the stupid numbers on the computer. You’re both loving up on each other, and I’m here by myself.” Benji turns his attention to Nate, pleading with his eyes. “I know I said I was going to be your good boy, but I can’t do this by myself. It’s too much pressure. I wanna come home.”

Nate’s got a pained look on his face. He gets lost in his head for a few seconds, just staring at Benji with apologetic eyes. When he reaches for the phone, I hand it over. “I’m so sorry, little guy. I should have refused to leave you there, I knew it was wrong the second he suggested it.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a head case. You shouldn’t have to put up with all my baggage. You deserve someone that can make your life simple, and here I am, unloading all my problems all the time.”

“I love when you unload on me, buddy,” Nate says. The words are worthy of a sexual pun, but I hold back, not wanting to ruin the moment they’re sharing. “Don’t ever worry about being too much for me. It’s never too much for a father. I promise I’m not going anywhere. You boys are mine now. My sons. I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

By the look in his eyes, the comment stung Benji just as much as it hurt me.

Sons.

He thinks of us as his adopted sons, and I don’t know if that’s a label he’ll ever be able to get past. The things I feel for Nate are so much bigger than anything a son should feel for his father. They make me want impossible things. Things I have no right asking for. More of his horrible jokes and dreamy gazes. More of his ass in those threadbare pajamas. More touching us all over. More everything, because that’s exactly what Nate is. More than anything, Nate is everything.

Nate pats his hand around the mattress like he’s looking for something. I don’t know what the heck he’s looking for, but I don’t have time to worry about whatever lost artifact he’s hunting. Focusing my attention on the image of my best friend—my everything—on the screen, I try to reassure Benji.

“You’re coming home,” I tell him. “I don’t care what Meadows says about it, I need you, Benj. I need you and you need me. So, you’re going to get your things tofether, I’m going to order you a rideshare, and then I’m calling Meadows and telling him?—”

“Now you listen to me, son,” Nate says in a voice I’ve never heard before. It’s hateful and harsh and filled with accusation. It’s a sound that sends a chill down my spine, reminding me of the way Nito used to yell at us. Mainly at me, which I could handle, but sometimes he aimed that anger at Benji, and seeing my Benji suffer, knowing I wasn’t big enough—wasn’t strong enough—to keep him safe still haunts me. Benji needed me, and I wasn’t there for him. Not when Nito would shove him in the cage, not when he’d make fun of his dick size . . . not even the time Benji took things further. His harshest punishment, and Benji was the one who had to endure it. I made a promise to Benji after we were rescued. I told him I wouldn’t ever let anyone talk to him like that again, and I meant it. Even though I wasn’t strong for him then, I can be strong for him now. No one—not even Nate—is going to take that tone with him ever again.

Inside I’m shaking, but when I turn to face Nate, I’ve got the meanest look I can manage, ready to unleash holy hell on him.

He’s not even looking at us, he’s got my phone against his ear, and is staring at the bedroom door, one hand fisted at his side. Of course, he isn’t yelling at us. He would never aim that much anger at his boys, and I feel like an idiot for doubting him. “I don’t give a damn how heavy the workload is, my boys are an emotional wreck right now, and his being there isn’t helping anything. You knew they were a package deal when you hired them; we discussed it at Tatum and Abi’s wedding. So, you’re going to get your behind in there, help him with his things, and bring him to me. I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Honestly, you’ll be lucky if I let them come back at all. By the sound of it, they’re both absolutely miserable. I’ll tell you something for nothing, son, there’s something rotten in the state of Denmark, and I think I’m speaking to the source.” He pauses for a moment, his face going completely white. He swallows, and his eyes meet mine, but only for a moment. “Yes, I’m sure you’re more than capable of removing my head with nothing more than a knitting needle, but it doesn’t change the fact that these boys have been through hell, and they’re still struggling. So, get my boy and bring him home. If you still want to decapitate me, you’re welcome to do so when you get here.”

As they continue bickering, I focus on Benji. He’s staring down at the desk with a far-away look in his eyes that I can’t read, which is weird, because I can usually read him like a book. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. I was thinking of something when I was in the bathroom. Something I want to do when I get home, but I don’t know if you’re going to be up for it.”

“Try me.”

His cheeks flush, and it’s like he’s refusing to even look me in the eyes. “Can I look at you? While you’re naked.”

When I swallow, it feels like sandpaper scraping my throat. “You want to?”

He nods. “I know it’s probably weird, but last night, I realized I’ve never really looked at you.” He chuckles softly to himself. “Isn’t that strange? I’ve seen you naked every day since we were teenagers, and I’ve never taken the time to really see you.” He bites his bottom lip as he meets my eyes. “I wanna see you, Bennet. I wanna see you a lot.”

My heart is hammering in my chest. How have I never seen him this way? How could I have ever been so blind? This is Benji. My other half. We’ve wasted so much time.

“Can I look at you too?”

His eyes widen and there’s the slightest hint of tear in the corners. “You will?”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Yeah, Benji.”

“Bennet.” God. It’s such a small, insignificant name for a small, insignificant man. So, how does he make it sound like a hymn? Why does the sound of my name coming from his mouth feel like a spiritual awakening? “I love you.”

I sniffle, whether from my cold or my emotions, I’m not totally sure. “I love you, too. Come home. I’ll take care of you. Promise.”