Chapter Seven
Ben
Finally. Gavin finally understood. Kind of, anyway. “I don’t… want you to, but I think that might be a good thing for you.”
When Gavin narrowed his eyes again, Ben knew he’d said the wrong thing. Big surprise.
Rather than yell, Gavin hissed, “Again, maybe I’m the better judge of what’s good for me and what’s not.”
Considering some of Gavin’s choices, especially in the last twenty-four hours, that point was debatable, but hell if Ben was going to say so. “Fine. You tell me, then. What’s best for Gavin Van Loen?”
Clearly seething, Gavin paced the floor for a round or two before facing Ben again. “A month ago, I would’ve said you.”
Ben felt like pulling back from the words as if they’d been a hit. He stood silently, though, and let Gavin go on.
“I would’ve said you, and a house somewhere safe and quiet. I would’ve said a dog and nosy neighbors and a grill on the back porch with a spare room for your mom when she comes to visit. I would’ve said a couple of kids—” Either Ben had made a sound he didn’t realize, or something in his expression stopped Gavin in his tracks. “What?”
He really shouldn’t say it and he knew it. He said it anyway. “You’re too young for that kind of shit right now.”
“I swear to God, Ben. I know you’re bigger than me and if you wanted to you could put me through the wall, but swear to Christ, if you say that to me one more time, I’m going to kill you.”
Frustrated with himself and Gavin, Ben tried to hang on to his temper. “I’m just saying to give it a decade and—”
“A decade?” Gavin sounded shocked and angry. “You think I need ten years to figure out what I want? And, then, what? We’ll have a kid, but you’ll both be in diapers?”
Apparently Ben wasn’t allowed to say Gavin was too young, but Gavin was perfectly within his rights to say Ben was too old.
Ben didn’t get a chance to comment because Gavin asked, “Do you not want that stuff too? I mean, I just assumed, but is that all too… I don’t know, heteronormative for you or something?”
In truth Ben liked the idea. Hell, he loved it. And who was he to complain if Gavin’s big life goal was to be Donna Reed with a dick? Ben made enough money to support them both, even support a family, and he invested well. He was still a little nettled by the diaper comment, though. And, if he were being honest, he didn’t feel like that big of an asshole for suggesting that Gavin look around and explore his options. Sure, his delivery had sucked, but his heart was in the right place. “Kids are fine. Hell, they’re great. I don’t mind the idea, but I’d like to be done raising you before we go out and start on another.” As far as saying the shittiest thing possible at the shittiest time possible, Ben was the new world champion.
If Gavin had slapped him for that one, he would’ve had every right, but instead Gavin stood in front of him, his whole body trembling as his eyes brimmed with tears. When Gavin spoke, his voice was hushed, full of emotion and maybe some quiet rage. “Well. I guess we don’t have anything else to talk about.” He turned on his heel and left the room.
“Gav, wait. I didn’t—” His words were cut off by the sound of their bedroom door slamming shut.
Okay, now he felt like that big of an asshole.
Ben walked to the bedroom and stood outside. He nearly knocked, nearly said something—anything—to get Gavin to listen to him again, but in the end, he just leaned his head against the cool wood and let out a deep breath. He tried to remember if there’d ever been a time in their relationship when they fought so much. The answer was no. They teased each other, they had little spats about stupid shit, but they’d never stormed around each other, never wanted to throw things or slam doors. Every problem they’d ever had could be solved with makeup sex and a joke. How were they supposed to get back to that point?
Ben nearly fell through the doorway when Gavin came out. He looked shocked as Ben stumbled forward, but he regrouped quickly enough.
“How about this.” Gavin crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes looking puffy, his hair falling over his forehead. “How about you tell me how many guys I’m supposed to go out and let fuck me so you can think I’m a grown-up, and I’ll just do that, okay?”
Christ, the idea turned Ben’s stomach, but that was probably the idea.
“Just give me a number, Ben,” Gavin shouted. “I’ll get started on it tonight if that’s what you want.”
What the hell was he supposed to say? “Goddamn it, Gavin. It’s not that I don’t think you’re a grownup.” Most of the time. “It’s just… I’m the only guy you’ve ever really been with. I know I want to be with you—just you. I’m done looking around. But you met me before you had a chance to sample anything else.”
“Fantastic.” Gavin stormed past him and went to the couch. He snatched up his duffel bag and turned to face Ben again. “I chose you because I didn’t know any better, and you chose me through process of elimination?”
“That’s not what I said.” Well, shit, he’d lost track. Maybe that was what he’d said, but it damn well wasn’t what he’d meant. Or maybe it was, when you got down to it, but Gavin had a way of making it sound a hell of a lot worse. Before he could say anything else, there was another knock on the door. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” They could go a month without anyone dropping by unannounced, but today it was like Grand fucking Central.
When he turned to answer it, he could hear Gavin slam the bedroom door again. Perfect. Goddamned dandy.
Ben could only guess what he looked like when he opened the door, but based on the terrified expression on the young girl’s face in front of him, it wasn’t pleasant. “Can I help you?”
She chewed her lip as if she wasn’t sure he could help her with anything, but then she asked, “Is Gavin… Does Gavin Van Loen live here?”
Okay. He hadn’t expected that. Ben knew pretty much everyone in Gavin’s orbit, and none of them were pretty little teenage girls with blonde hair and… eyes to match Gavin’s. Holy shit. “Uh, yeah. Can I tell him who’s here?” Christ, the name wouldn’t help much. Gavin had six siblings, and he hadn’t spoken to any of them in over five years. But looking at her, Ben was certain. If you stuck Gavin in drag, he wagered he’d look exactly like—
“Tina. Um. I’m his sister.”