5. Close to Each Other
5
Close to Each Other
When I walked into the house later that evening, I found my dad sitting in his recliner, a beer on the side table beside him. The TV was set to some football game. The Super Bowl was just around the corner, but since I didn’t really follow sports, I didn’t know who was fighting to take the coveted spots.
Judging from Dad’s almost bored expression, he wasn’t invested in the outcome of this particular game. But he did look up at me as I trudged inside, kicking slushy snow from my sneakers.
“Hey,” I said.
“All right?” he asked, and I nodded. “How’d Ben do?”
“Real good. He could go to Sectionals if he wants.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, he’s not sure if he will, though.”
“Oh?”
“More important shit happening, you know?” I ran a hand through my hair, ruffling the messy strands. It was almost time for another haircut.
Dad took a gulp of his beer. “Well, he’s got the talent. It’d be a shame for him to miss out on scholarships—”
“He’s already accepted to MIT and has several scholarships lined up,” I said.
With a hum, he set his beer on the table and turned the volume down on the TV. “I see.” A click of silence. “A letter came for you.”
I paused on my way toward the stairs. “Huh?”
His feigned nonchalance made my heart trip. “Yeah. Pretty bulky one too. Seemed important, maybe?”
Swallowing thickly, I backtracked to the dining room, tripping to a stop at the table. Sitting front and center was a simple, unassuming white envelope with my name, Silas M. Brigs, printed across the front. My stomach twisted as I caught sight of the NYU logo on the envelope.
“Oh, shit,” I murmured, reaching my hand out tentatively to pick up the envelope. My fingers trembled as nerves swirled through my body and I glanced over my shoulder with wide eyes to see Dad watching me with barely veiled amusement.
“It’s not going to bite you,” he said with a smile. “Open it.”
I’d sent my applications in the summer before all this shit went down. Before Boyt. Before Ben. I’d been accepted to IU Bloomington, but the last thing I wanted was to stay here in Indiana. NYU was my first choice. And I was holding the letter that could determine my future.
“I feel sick,” I said.
Dad’s hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed. “Open it up, son.”
“Yeah, okay.” I flipped the envelope and slipped my index finger under the seal. I ripped the paper open and took an extra moment to collect myself before I pulled out the weighty parchment.
I steeled myself for the worst as I turned the letter over. I knew my grades weren’t the best—they were good but not great, and I didn’t have many extracurricular activities to list either. Oh God, I was going to get declined.
My eyes landed on the paper but the words blurred together, thick globs of black on white, and I had to blink several times to focus on the letters. “Dear Mr. Brigs,” I started, my voice shaking and cracking, “We are pleased to inform you…”
I dropped the letter to the table as my shaky knees gave out beneath me, but I didn’t fall like I expected as strong, solid arms caught me. I was whirled around and enveloped in a hug smelling like Old Spice and amber IPA. I clutched Dad’s shirt to keep myself from falling to the floor with relief.
“Congratulations! I knew you’d do it! I knew it!” Dad crowed.
Burying my face in his chest, I choked on a wet laugh. “Oh my God, I’m in. Holy shit!”
“We need to celebrate!” He released me from his crushing hug, and I teetered for a moment before my legs held strong.
I lowered myself to a dining chair and read the whole letter through. I could barely absorb anything except the beautiful word accepted . Dad returned with a second beer, setting it in front of me. Leaning over my shoulder, he read the letter, lips moving wordlessly. I sipped at the beer.
“You’re gonna be a college boy,” he said proudly, eyes shining.
“Looks like it.” I laughed.
“My son is having a baby, and my other son is going to college.” Dad’s beaming smile faltered, and he blinked. “Whoa, my son is having a baby, and my other son is going to college.”
I directed him to a seat, worried he might pass out. “Sit down and take a breath.”
“Grandbaby on the way. My strong son headed to New York.” Dad sniffed, and my throat swelled. He grasped my arm and shook me gently. “I’m so proud of you, of both you and Will. So damn proud of my boys.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I croaked, blinking away the burn in my eyes.
“We need to call your brother!” He was up and out of his chair quicker than a man his age should move, but I didn’t stop him when he called Will on Facetime.
Will, of course, cheered valiantly when I brandished my acceptance letter, and even Cora joined the call, offering congratulations. They showed off the baby room, decorated in grays and yellows. Gender neutral, even though Cora had held up a sonogram and announced, “There’s no penis, but gender is mostly a social construct anyway.”
Finally something we agreed on.
After saying our goodbyes nearly an hour later, I fingered the letter and eyed the door. “I think I’m gonna head to Ben’s.”
“It’s late,” Dad warned.
I tried and failed to stop my blush. “I’ll probably crash at his place.”
“Oh.” The word was strangled, and I avoided looking my father directly in the eye. “Well, okay then. You’re eighteen.”
“Christ, Dad.”
“Language,” he chided.
Instead of grabbing my damp sneakers, I tugged on my winter boots. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll, uh, see you later.”
“Drive safe.”
“Always do.”
“Text me when you get there?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Sure, Dad.”
It didn’t take long to arrive at Ben’s house. The lights were still on. Through the front windows, I could see Uncle Henry sitting in front of the TV. He was probably watching the same football game my dad had been watching.
Aunt June’s vehicle was gone from the garage. She must have been working a night shift. Ben’s silver Impala was parked behind Uncle Henry’s work truck. I parked on the street so as not to block the driveway for Aunt June.
I walked in through the garage, removing my boots in the mudroom.
“June?” Uncle Henry called from the living room, and I crossed the kitchen, hooking my torso around the corner.
“Hey,” I said, and Henry clambered to his feet.
“Silas. I didn’t realize you were coming over.” He was in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a plain gray shirt. His salt and pepper beard had recently been trimmed. His blue eyes were concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry for stopping by unannounced. I just wanted to see Ben real quick.”
“Your dad know you’re here?” he asked, and I nodded. “Okay. Well, Ben’s downstairs.”
“Thanks.”
Ducking back into the kitchen, I rushed to the stairs and skipped down them. I didn’t bother knocking, barging into Ben’s room, chest heaving with excitement. Ben yelped from the couch, his laptop nearly tumbling from his lap. He shut the lid and tugged an earbud out of his ear.
“Silas?”
“Hey.” I shut the door and bounded into his room, stopping short as I rounded the couch.
Ben’s cheeks were pink. A bottle of lube sat on the floor next to the couch. He looked guilty and embarrassed, his hand hovering protectively over his laptop. My jaw dropped.
“Silas—”
“Did I catch you watching porn?”
“No,” he said.
“That was a lie,” I accused, trying and failing not to laugh. “I just caught you watching porn.”
With an eye roll, he placed his laptop on the ground, revealing his unbuttoned jeans. “Fine. Yes. I was watching porn.”
I wiggled my eyebrows as he refastened his jeans. “That’s hot.”
“Shut up,” he snapped. “What are you doing here?”
Oh yeah. There was a reason I’d come. I pulled the letter from my back pocket, my smile widening until my cheeks ached. “I got in.”
It took Ben an extra minute to understand, but then his face transformed. “What?”
Leaping to his feet, he rushed me. I wrapped my limbs around him as he lifted me into the air, cheering loudly. He spun me, and I laughed into his neck.
“That’s amazing, Si! Holy shit.” He put me down and took the letter from my hand. He read over it hastily. “NYU. I told you you’d get in. Congratulations.”
He kissed me, then returned his attention to the letter. “It’s not that long of a train ride, you know. I looked it up. Unless I drive. I’m not sure whether the train is cheaper than driving. I’d have to check. You’re not taking the truck to New York, right? I’ll have the Impala, and I don’t mind going your way. I’ll come to you every weekend. I don’t care.”
And he’d lost me. “Huh?”
“Silas.” He looked up at me, grinning ear-to-ear. “We’re gonna be so close to each other.”
Oh.
“You’d want to visit me?” I said stupidly.
It was his turn to be confused. “Well, yeah. It would be kind of sad if I only saw my boyfriend during school breaks.”
He wanted to stay together? We’d never talked about what would happen after graduation. And with the happenings of the last few weeks, I’d been questioning whether we’d even last until graduation. But he’d already checked the train routes?
“I know we’ll be busy. There will be weekends we can’t make the trip, but I don’t want to go months between seeing you, especially if you’ll be so close by.” He set my acceptance letter down and cupped my face. “We’ll make it work,” he said like it was the most logical thing in the world.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to agree, to promise him every weekend for the next four years, but it would taste too much like a lie. We were only eighteen. We were kids! High school relationships never lasted.
But I didn’t say any of that because, as much as I understood the precarious reality of our position, I didn’t want to face it. Because I loved him. And I feared I’d love him until it destroyed us both.
“Do you not… want that?” he asked hesitantly, and I swallowed thickly.
There was so much more to his question, and my hands shook. This felt big. We’d been through so much, and there were times when it felt like we were standing on unsteady ground. But we’d made it this far, hadn’t we? Fuck Boyt. Fuck Pat and Eli. Fuck fairytales and happy endings. That wasn’t real life, anyway.
I cleared my throat as I willed my racing heart to calm, but it was no use. “No, that’s not—I want that. I’ll take a train or a bus. Or a boat. I don’t care.”
His smile was blinding. “You won’t get very far in a boat.”
“I could be a master rower for all you know,” I said. “I’d make that boat my bitch.”
And God, how he laughed.
When he kissed me, I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. It was slow. It was sweet. It was so good. Then it grew. The heat simmered under the surface, and I sifted my fingers through his curls. His lips were insistent now, his fingers fisting my hoodie. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, and he groaned.
Besides the questionable blowjob and the handjob I’d given Ben after, we hadn’t had sex again. Maybe it was the trauma of our intimacy being stolen by Boyt. Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was the underlying current of bitterness and frustration pulsing between us.
It was probably all of that and more. But as Ben slipped his hands carefully beneath my shirt, his fingers hot against my stomach, I let it all go.
Yes, things were shit right now. Yes, I blamed Ben, in part, for it. More so, I blamed myself. But we were still here, and we were still standing.
Maybe tonight, that could be enough.
When I added pressure to his chest, he stepped back. We stumbled past the couch, and I didn’t stop pushing him until the back of his knees met the bed. He sank down easily, scooting back as I crawled up after him.
Our kiss broke as he finagled my hoodie over my head. He lifted off the mattress, stomach tightening with the motion, and I tugged his shirt off. My shirt followed. Our chests met as I blanketed his body with mine.
Instinctively, Ben opened his legs and cradled me between them. He kissed me passionately, one hand in my hair, the other trailing up and down my side. I wanted to touch him, but both of my hands fisted in the mattress to keep myself propped up above him.
“Do you have—”
“Yes,” he didn’t let me finish the question. “Yeah, everything’s in the side drawer.”
I rose to kneel between his spread thighs. “Okay. I gotta…” I cringed and pointed to the bathroom. “You know. Give me a minute?”
Ben blushed so deeply the red spread to the top of his chest. “Well, I kind of already—I mean, I just showered, and… you know?”
Actually, I didn’t know. I told him as much. His face darkened further.
“I was watching porn,” he repeated with a significant look.
I frowned, then—oh!
“You were gonna finger yourself?” I blurted, and he blushed to the roots of his hair.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted, voice adorably mortified. “So, like, I already—in the shower. If I knew you were coming, I would have been more thorough, but—”
“Are you sure, though? It’s okay if you don’t want it this way.”
In answer, he twisted his body and reached for his bedside table. He grabbed a box of condoms, tearing one from the line. He set the foil packet on the table’s surface before tossing the box back in the drawer.
At his prompting, I stood up and watched as he retrieved the lube he’d been going to use before I’d interrupted him. He stopped in front of me and handed it to me with a shy smile.
“I trust you,” he said, voice unwavering.
Carefully, I took it from him, my fingers trembling. “You’re sure?”
His blue eyes rolled with turbulent waves as he crawled back onto the bed, situating himself on his back. “I want this with you, if you do.”
“Yeah. Okay, uh, yeah.”
We undressed completely, and I climbed back onto the bed, settling between his legs as I said, “I’m gonna take care of you.”
He smiled up at me, knees hitching around my hips. “I know.”
The trust in his eyes, the awed reverence on his face, made me ache. It was a weighty thing to accept, and I told myself to handle it with care. Maybe Ben and I weren’t what we’d been mere weeks ago, but he was gifting me this. I didn’t deserve it, but I would keep it safe.
“Has anyone ever, uh, touched you?” I asked, lowering my hand to palm the top of his ass cheek.
“Just me,” he confessed.
“Could you get off that way?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Could never get the right angle.”
“So I’ll be your first.” I grinned fiendishly. “I like that way more than I should.”
Ben chuckled, hand shaking as he opened the bottle of lube. “Caveman.”
As he squirted the slick into my hand, I said, “This ass mine,” in a gruff, deep voice.
And my God, how he laughed.
We didn’t talk for a while after that, not in words. I watched his every facial expression to ensure I wasn’t hurting him, and he made cute little noises in the back of his throat. He tugged me down to kiss him, fingers digging into the back of my neck, and I tried to multitask as best I could, wanting to make this good for him.
After what felt like ages, Ben grunted into my mouth and said, “I’m ready.”
And I said, “Oh shit. Okay.”
Then I said, “My God, you’re bendy.”
He laughed. “Well, I am a diver. It kind of comes with the territory.”
Later, I said, “Deep breath, baby. I’ve got you.”
Ben said, “I know.”
Later still, I choked out, “You feel so good.”
And, “I’m not gonna last.”
And, “That’s right. Say my fucking name.”
And he did.
Ben said, “Silas, I need…”
And, “Just move, okay? I need you to move.”
And, “Don’t stop. Silas, don’t stop.”
When the aftershocks faded and I’d cleaned us both up, I crawled back into bed, and Ben tugged me back down until I was on top of him once more. He trembled as he clutched me to him like I was his rescue buoy, keeping him from slipping below the waves. I held him close, trailing kisses over his head, his cheek, his jaw, as I waited for his shaking to subside.
When I lifted off him, his blue eyes locked on mine, glistening slightly, and my throat cinched tight. “Are you okay?” I asked hoarsely.
He nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yeah.”
“Did I hurt you?” I ran a hand through his blond curls, and he shook his head.
“No, it was—you were perfect,” he smiled up at me, and I felt the wounds in my chest heal just a little bit more.
“I love you,” he said, expression so heart-achingly tender that my lungs squeezed and my heart twisted into knots. His trust and unwavering love were almost too much to accept, but I cradled them close and hid them away in my heart so I could carry them with me always.
“I love you too,” I said as I kissed him deeply, trying to convey all the things I couldn’t articulate with words.
And because Ben knew my mind better than I did, he understood.