Chapter 18
Everything was perfect, and Benji was suffering.
“You look great,” Daphne assured him as he fluffed up his hair for the dozenth time. “Quit touching it! We’ll have to get the stylist back in!”
“I’ll touch whatever I want,” Benji snapped, glaring at the phone resting on the counter in front of them.
Daphne took a judgmental sip of free champagne. “You aren’t getting cold feet, are you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Benji told her. Although it wouldn’t be unlikely, he considered as he straightened his bow tie over the collar Noah had buckled onto him this morning. He did take a long time to accept Noah’s proposal, after all.
“It’s not that,” Benji said sourly. “The wedding is perfect.”
It was true. All the wedding disasters weren’t coming to pass: the catering was ready to go, as was the wait staff.
There was apparently something up with the flower delivery, but Noah had taken care of it.
The venue—a church that had been converted into a gallery several years ago—was so beautiful Benji had spent most of the rehearsal dinner gaping at it.
His suit was gorgeous and fit like a glove.
The guests were here, all five of them, even though the ceremony didn’t start for an hour.
Daphne dropped into the chair next to him and tugged the gorgeous, tasteful green cape enveloping his shoulders. “Oookay. So, what’s the problem, sugar?”
Benji gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to say it. It sounded stupid, even to him. But he had just been getting more agitated as the day went on. He felt like he was going to explode if he waited one more minute.
“So, Noah and I are trying this thing,” he admitted in a rush. “Where I don’t come for a month before the wedding.”
Daphne’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “Wow! Like, not at all?”
“Nope. Can’t even get hard. Wearing a chastity… thing.” He suddenly didn’t want to say cage, which was stupid. He was wearing it, so he should be able to talk about it. He was a grown man who routinely did BDSM; he should get to talk about it to his best friend.
“Wow,” Daphne repeated. She eyed his slacks, which were the softest thing Benji had ever worn because Noah was a goddamn sweetheart. “Are you going to make it?”
“Of course I’m going to make it,” Benji told her. “It’s half an hour until the wedding! I can last half an hour.”
Daphne eyed his hand, which was pulling fervently at the cape around his shoulders.
“I am,” he insisted. “Noah’s just making it difficult.”
His phone vibrated on the counter. Benji growled and grabbed it, swiping to find yet another devastatingly sexy text from Noah detailing what he was going to do to Benji after the ceremony.
A frustrated groan leaked out from behind Benji’s teeth.
He was even tearing up, and what the fuck was that about?
Sure, he’d had some moments this month where he thought he’d tear his hair out if he couldn’t get hard, usually when Noah was inside him.
But there had been many more moments, especially lately, where the denial felt like floating high above the clouds.
Right now, he felt like he was smacking into the ground.
“Ben,” Daphne said, concerned. “You can just safeword out if it’s that bad. Noah won’t care.”
“But it’s just half an hour,” Benji cried. “I lasted a month! Do you know how hard that was? He’s so fucking hot, Daph! I’m not going to pussy out at the eleventh hour!”
“You’re crying,” Daphne said, her voice so full of awkward sympathy it made Benji rage.
“I am not,” he snapped, furious to see tears dripping down his reflection’s cheeks.
He scrubbed at them, trying to dry them on his shirt before noticing his outfit and stopping.
He looked wonderful in the suit and cape Noah had tailors make for him; he wasn’t going to ruin it with an emotional outburst.
“I’m just being stupid,” Benji said. “I can last. I can.”
Daphne laid a hand on his shoulder. “Tell him to come and see you. I’ll go outside and distract everyone if you run a little overtime, okay?”
Benji snorted, the noise wetter than he’d like.
“You don’t have to throw in the towel,” Daphne said. “Just talk to him. You’re literally crying.”
“I’m just being dramatic,” Benji rasped. He wiped his cheeks, annoyed at himself. He didn’t know where this was coming from. He was stressed, sure. But he was genuinely excited for today, and he didn’t want to ruin it.
“I’ll call him,” Benji said. “But we’re just talking. This is nothing.”
“Totally,” Daphne agreed. She kissed his cheek and slipped out of the room, leaving Benji standing there in the dressing room, shaking like an idiot.
He sniffed and picked up his phone.
Noah answered on the first ring. “Benji?”
“I’m fine,” Benji said, grimacing at his croaky voice. “I love you. I’m just having a reaction about the, uh, that thing you were texting me about.”
Noah paused. “Are you in your dressing room?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Noah said. “I love you, baby.”
“Love you,” Benji replied.
Noah showed up at his door in under forty seconds.
“I feel like there are rules against this,” Benji said as he let him in. “Aren’t we supposed to not see each other?”
“We can do whatever the hell we want,” Noah replied, closing the door behind them and gathering Benji’s blotchy face in his hands. “What happened?”
“Nothing! Seriously, I don’t know why I’m like this.” Benji made a face, wiping at his red skin. They’d have to call the makeup guy back in to touch him up. “This is literally the worst time for this to happen. Why the fuck is this happening?”
Noah stroked his cheeks. There was something seemingly worried behind his calm exterior. Benji could see it flickering.
“Walk me through it,” Noah instructed.
Benji blew out a shaky breath. “I’ve been feeling weird all day. I thought it was just stress, but then it started feeling like I need—I need…” He reached down to cover his groin, feeling the shape of the plastic through his marvelously soft clothes.
Noah covered his hand. “You need to come, baby?”
“No,” Benji barked, his eyes filling with infuriated and completely unfounded tears. “Yes? Fuck, I’m just freaking out. I don’t get why this is happening now. It’s half an hour! We have the world’s shortest ceremony, we do a little dance, and then we leave, and you fuck me however you want!”
“Or—” Noah suggested, rubbing Benji’s caged cock through his pants. “I can make you come. Now. Something quick to take the edge off.”
“Fucking fuck,” Benji spat. His hips jerked into Noah’s touch, and for a moment, the urge was so strong it blinded him.
Then he remembered the month of build-up, the pride in Noah’s eyes when he confirmed he was still wearing the cage, the bone-deep satisfaction of knowing he was doing as he was told.
He was in the home stretch; he wouldn’t ruin it now.
“No, I can do it. I can do it, okay?” Benji pulled Noah’s hand away and pressed it to his face, nuzzling his palm. “Just… give me something to focus on. Tell me what our life’s going to be like.”
Noah kissed his forehead. “You’re going to keep painting.
You’re going to go to art galleries full of your pieces, get me to make small talk you hate, and then I’ll take you home and fuck you until all the stress leaves your body.
You’re going to graduate. Treat Daphne to trips.
Buy Max a car when he turns sixteen. And you’re going to wake up next to me every morning for the rest of our lives. ”
Benji breathed out shakily. “Tell me I can take it.”
“You can take it,” Noah said. He gripped Benji’s chin, pulling his gaze up to him. “Hey. You can take it, baby. Because I told you to.”
“Thank you,” Benji whispered.
Noah ran a hand through Benji’s artfully styled curls and pulled him close, resting their foreheads together. For a moment, they just stood there, breathing until Benji’s panicked breaths slowed and became even.
Then Noah pulled back and kissed Benji’s chin. “I have a surprise for you.”
Benji blinked up at him, surprise immediately turning to suspicion. “What? Since when?”
“I was going to leave it until after the ceremony,” Noah admitted. “But I suppose there’s no time like the present.”
Benji followed Noah to a room across the hall.
Noah opened the door and motioned for Benji to walk inside. His expression betrayed nothing. Actually, it was so blank it was freaking Benji out.
Benji stepped into the room, keeping his suspicious gaze on Noah.
“You’re being super weird,” he told his fiancé. “This better be…”
He looked up. The words froze in his throat, trailing into nothing.
It was another dressing room. Chet and Dillion knelt in the middle of the carpet. Their heads were bowed, their hands resting in their laps.
Michael stood next to them, shifting from foot to foot.
He looked better than he had the last time Benji saw him.
No visible hangover, his hair and clothes clean.
Not like Chet and Dillion, whose clothes were scuffed.
Dillion’s face was bruised. The kneeling men’s wrists were marked, as if they had been restrained before Benji walked in.
Benji stared at them, shocked into silence. His mind whirled with questions. What the fuck had Noah done? Why was Michael looking at Benji like he wanted his approval? Why the hell did Noah think this was an appropriate wedding gift, and most importantly, why did it feel so right?
“What the fuck,” Benji said weakly.
Noah stepped into place beside him. His arms were folded, and he surveyed the scene as though there was nothing out of place. Like finding these men bruised and kneeling was the natural order of things.
“Boys,” he said, and his dismissive tone made Benji shiver. Noah had never once spoken to him like that.
Chet and Dillion spoke over each other. “We’re sorry,” they said haltingly, out of sync, as if they hadn’t rehearsed enough. “We won’t bother you again.”
They stared up at Benji as they said it. Then their gazes flickered over to Noah, as if wondering if this was convincing enough.
“Don’t look at me,” Noah said, fixing his cufflinks. “I’m not the one you’re apologizing to.”
The men’s gaze snapped back to Benji. There was still some resentment there, especially in Dillion’s expression, but mostly it was pure pleading.
Benji swallowed. He hadn’t done shit to make these men look at him like this.
But the idea that Noah had done everything for him and that he’d done it so thoroughly that it reduced these men to kneeling in front of him and begging for his forgiveness, it made something shaky and overwhelming bloom inside Benji. It felt a lot like triumph.
The silence stretched. Noah touched Benji’s cape, running his finger along the soft edge.
“Well?” he said. “What do you think, baby?”
Benji blinked. The triumph was rising, taking over his shock. Not triumph over these men who had hurt him—he was surprised to realize he didn’t give a fuck about them. The triumph was because of Noah, who had given him this power without Benji having to ask for it.
“I don’t forgive them,” Benji said hoarsely. “But I do want them to fuck off and never come back.”
Noah gave Michael a look. Michael jolted into action, whirling on the kneeling men and clicking his fingers.
“Up,” he snapped. “Come on, you little shits. Faster!”
His knuckles were bruised, Benji noticed as Michael hustled the two men to their feet and shoved at them.
Dark purple, just like Dillion’s cheek. Chet kept trying to look back, mumbling more apologies.
Dillion, however, kept his head down and stalked out like he had the devil on his tail, not sparing Benji a word or even a glance.
At this, Benji couldn’t help it: vicious satisfaction rushed through him in a red-hot tide.
Michael pushed the men into the hall and watched security take over, leading the men toward the back exit.
Then his threatening demeanor turned uncertain.
He traded another silent look with Noah that reminded Benji of how he and Max could communicate with a raised eyebrow or a lip twitch, and then Michael looked at Benji.
“Mazel tov,” Michael said quietly. “Or whatever.”
His jaw flexed. He was high-strung and fidgety, but he went still as he watched Benji. A curious expression passed over his face, like he was seeing Benji in an entirely new light. Like, he might not like Benji, but he might respect him, just a little.
Michael hesitated. Then he gave them a nod and walked out. No fanfare, no insults, no vows of vengeance. Just the doorknob clicking into place neatly behind him.
“What the fuck,” Benji repeated. He let out a hysterical laugh, staring at the closed door. Had that really happened?
Noah moved in front of him and cupped his face. “Was that okay? I thought you would like it.”
Benji laughed again, eyes burning. Noah sounded nervous, but not much. He knew when Benji was happy, even if it was lost in a muddle of other emotions. The main one, of course, being deep, overwhelming love.
He grabbed Noah and kissed him as messily as he dared.
He was still tempted to safeword out and let Noah make him come right here in the dressing room.
But he had promised he could last, and they had such a short time to wait.
Noah had arranged for his two biggest enemies to kneel in contrition in front of him.
Benji could hold to a damn chastity vow for another half hour.
He pulled back, sniffing wetly. “I want to say I can’t believe you’d do that for me, but I totally can. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too, baby,” Noah said softly. “Always.”
Benji pulled him into another kiss, unable to stop himself. Then he asked, “How’s my eyeliner?”
Noah wiped gently at his cheek. “Perfect.”
Benji wiped his eyes carefully. He could pass his red-rimmed eyes off as happiness.
And, he realized as he caught his reflection in the changing room mirror, he did look happy.
So happy he could hardly recognize himself.
He’d come a long way since he met Noah: from an unhappy, untrusting college student who dreaded his future to a relaxed, content painter who couldn’t wait to see what lay ahead.
“Okay,” Benji whispered. “Let’s get married.”