4. Four
Four
W il fished his buzzing phone from his pocket as he jogged across the quad to his dorm. A smile broke out when he saw it was Ben calling him.
“Hey, Ben,” he answered, slowing to a walk.
“Hi Wil. I haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I?”
“Not at all. I’ve just finished my economics paper, and I’m heading back to my dorm to chill out for a couple of hours before I go over my contract law notes.”
“Do you have time to grab a coffee?”
Warmth spread through Wil at the request. “I’d love to. Where do you want to meet?”
“Um. Well, I was thinking I could return your hospitality and make you a coffee here in my dorm,” Ben said shyly. “I mean, we don’t have to. We can try and grab a table at Eta’s if you’d rather.”
“Why, Mr.…” Wil broke off. “I don’t even know your last name. How bad is that?”
Ben chucked back in response. “Martinez. What’s yours?”
“James,” Wil replied as he entered Brandt House. “I’ve just got back to my dorm. I’ll be over in five minutes if that works?”
“Yes. Room 601.”
“See you in a few, Mr. Martinez.”
“Looking forward to it, Mr. James.”
Ten minutes later, Wil was pushing the buzzer next to Ben’s room number.
“Come on up,” Ben said, his voice tinny through the tiny intercom.
Wil pushed the entry door as it unlatched and crossed to the elevator. As he rode up to Ben’s floor, he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. He was unnaturally nervous and equally excited at the thought of seeing Ben again. He’d thought of the other man constantly over the last thirty-six hours since they’d said goodbye in the early hours of Sunday morning.
As he approached Ben’s door, he ran a nervous hand through his hair and then down his T-shirt, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. Taking a calming breath, he knocked on the door to Ben’s suite.
It only took a few seconds for it to be opened by a smiling Ben. Wil’s stomach dipped at the wide, bright grin, and flashed his own one back.
“Hey, Wil. Come on in,” Ben said, stepping back and ushering Wil in.
“Thanks,” Wil said as he glanced around, taking in the bright décor. The layout was the same as his own dorm suite, but Ben and his roommates had large wall art posters, and vibrant throw pillows on the couch.
“So, um, how do you like your coffee?”
Wil turned to face Ben, who was nervously twisting his hands at his waist.
Before he could reply, Ben gestured to the kitchenette area. “We have, um, an espresso machine, so I can make you whatever you’d like.”
Wil swung his gaze to the machine in question and let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s a fancy machine. My Pa would be jealous.”
“Yeah. Emory is a coffee snob, so his parents bought him the machine for our first Christmas here. We’ve all become fairly competent baristas.”
“In that case, I’d love a cappuccino,” Wil replied with a smile.
Ben headed to the kitchenette and began making their drinks. Over his shoulder, he called out. “Grab a seat and make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” Wil replied, settling onto the end of the couch. “I love the art posters you have on your walls. Are they a local artist?”
“You could say that,” Ben replied dryly.
Wil cocked his head at Ben’s back and then stood to look closer at the pictures. He took in the signature on the bottom right corner and turned back to Ben, who was watching him closely.
“These are yours,” Wil stated.
“That one and the one by the window are mine. The large abstract is Emory’s.”
Wil returned his attention to the picture. It was in the style of a vintage 1950s postcard with bright, bold colors. It featured a setting sun behind a striped lighthouse. Clouds reflected in the sea, and as Wil looked closer, he could see small whimsical details, such as a crab scurrying across the sand and the traces of a collapsing sandcastle in the surf.
“This is amazing, Ben. You’re truly talented.”
“Thank you,” Ben said shyly. “Did you want sugar in your coffee?”
“Yes please,” Wil replied, moving towards Ben.
After taking his drink, he sat back down on the couch. Ben joined him on the other end, sitting sideways and hitching his knee on to the cushions.
“How’s your week been so far?” Ben asked him.
“The usual, you know. I’ll be glad to have midterms over with. How about you?”
“So-so. I’ve mainly got written exams this week, as my practical piece had to be turned in at the end of last week.”
“Practical piece?”
“Yeah. I have to do a clay sculpture of a character I’ve created. I had to document each stage from concept and design to the actual modeling and sculpture.”
“That sounds amazing. I’d love to see it one day.”
“I’ve, um, got a couple of early samples if you want to see those?” Ben offered shyly, a faint blush tinging his olive skin.
“Really? I’d love to see them,” Wil replied enthusiastically.
“They’re in my room,” Ben said, hitching a thumb over his shoulder.
Wil couldn’t help but tease him. “Why, Mr. Martinez, are you offering to show me your etchings?”
Ben gaped at him for a second before he blushed again and dropped his chin to his chest. Glancing up from between his lashes, he gave a small nod and a grin. “I guess I am.”
Heat bloomed through Wil at the look, and he hastily downed the last of his coffee.
***
Ben swallowed nervously before standing and gesturing to his door. He was suddenly anxious at the thought of Wil seeing his creations, which was unusual, as he normally loved showing off what he’d designed and created. He realized that Wil’s opinion was important to him.
“They are just basic designs and early concepts, so please don’t judge them too harshly. I can show you some pictures of the finished piece if you want to see them.” He was babbling, and he inwardly cursed himself. Wil was a nice guy, and he ticked pretty much all of Ben’s boxes. He’d spent many hours over the last few days reliving their kiss, and he was hoping they could repeat it today.
Wil followed him into his cramped bedroom, the taller man making the space feel even smaller than usual. As well as the uniform bed, dresser, and desk, he’d added some shelving units to house his models.
He watched as Wil perused one shelf, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his jeans as if to prevent himself from touching.
“These are amazing,” he said, turning to give Ben a wide grin. “These must have taken hours.”
“Tho… those are some of my freshman year pieces. The prototypes for this year’s model are over here,” he stammered, turning to reach for one of the delicate models.
“I made this one from, um, papier maché,” he stammered, aware that Wil was only a few steps behind him, looking over his shoulder. “And… and this one is made from a Plaster of Paris mix….”
His voice faltered as warm breath whispered against the nape of his neck. He held completely still, barely daring to breathe as Wil’s lips ghosted against the skin below his ear. A shudder ran through him, his hand shaking as he pointed to the third model.
“This one is….” His breath hitched, and he struggled to continue. “This one is closer to the fi... f… finished version.” His voice tapered out in a whisper as broad hands circled his waist, and lips feathered across his nape and down under his other ear.
He slid his own hands over Wil’s, tightening the embrace as his head tilted to the side to give Wil access to the delicate skin under his ear.
“Is this okay?” Wil’s voice was low and husky.
In response, Ben nodded, his eyes drifting shut as he melted against Wil’s firm chest. Desire skittered down his spine as Wil tightened his hold, his mouth nuzzling along Ben’s jawline.
Without conscious thought, Ben turned in Wil’s arms, his own looping around the taller man’s neck as he lifted his mouth to meet Wil’s.
Their lips slid against each other, learning the other’s shape and taste. Wil’s tongue sensually traced against Ben’s lower lip, silently asking for entrance. Ben immediately opened for him, tasting the coffee they had both just drank, plus an essence that was all Wil.
Ben’s fingers tangled in Wil’s curls, and Wil gave a low moan in return. They broke apart, gasping for air. Wil rested his forehead against Ben’s and gave a quiet chuckle.
“I wasn’t planning to do that,” he said, his fingers tracing up and down Ben’s spine.
“I’m not complaining,” Ben responded, his hands slipping to Wil’s broad shoulders.
“I wish it wasn’t midterm,” Wil admitted. “I wish we had time to go on a proper date.”
“It’s only a few more days. I can wait if you can.”
Wil pressed a chaste kiss to Ben’s mouth before stepping away. “I don’t want to wait. I don’t want someone else to come along and sweep you off your feet before I can.”
Ben laughed and raised up on his toes to return Wil’s kiss. “I promise, if it hasn’t happened in the four years I’ve been here, I doubt it’s going to happen in the next few days.”
“I really don’t want to leave, but I’ve got to go over my notes before my next exam.” Wil reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Can I call you later?”
“I’d love that,” Ben told him with a smile.