Sixteen Ben
sixteen
Ben
Ben waved at Arya as he approached the dugout.
Arya waved back, his brown skin glowing in the sun as he jogged over.
After a rainy Friday, Saturday had dawned clear and bright, with a sky so blue and tall Ben suddenly understood why Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote a whole-ass musical about the state of Oklahoma.
Even the air smelled sweet and full of possibility.
Arya pulled Ben into a soft embrace, hands on his waist, and leaned in for a quick peck on the lips. He hadn’t planned it, exactly, but it felt natural. The two of them were finding a decent routine.
Well, decent except for the fact it was all made up.
Arya smiled, an alarmingly genuine smile, then let go of Ben and dropped to his knees.
“Who is this?” he asked, reaching for Simon, waiting patiently on her leash at Ben’s side.
Simon wiggled her butt, but otherwise stayed still as Arya rubbed her head, her ears, her jowls. He covered her in love.
“You must be the famous Simon!”
Ben chuckled. “She is.”
Her tongue lolled out in happiness. She really did have the best smile in the whole universe.
Arya planted a loud smooch on the top of her head and stood again.
“Glad you did that after kissing me,” Ben said.
Arya laughed. “How do I know you haven’t been giving her kisses?”
“Touché.” Ben didn’t mind dog slobber, but he definitely didn’t like it on his face, and Simon was pretty good about only licking his hands.
And sometimes his feet, when they lay on the couch together, though that seemed more like an accident as she licked her own paws and his feet just caught some friendly fire.
“You still down for lunch after this?” Arya asked.
“For sure.” Ben kept his smile, but his stomach did a weird little flip, too.
This had all seemed like a good idea when they were at that coffee shop, coming up with rules for how this whole situation was supposed to go, but now that Ben was faced with the possibility of actually going on a date (fake or not) with Arya, he was weirdly nervous.
Their schedules had been so hectic the past week, Ben had only seen Arya for PhilBall stuff, so this was their first opportunity for a fake date. Unfortunately, that meant all their teammates were likely to see them head out together.
But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To put on a good show?
Ben couldn’t help feeling weird about it, though.
Still, he pulled Arya into a hug to whisper in his ear, “What do your friends know? Did you talk to them yet?”
“No. I didn’t want to put it in writing. I’ll tell them tomorrow at brunch.”
Ben’s stomach squirmed again. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because anyone knowing the truth felt too dangerous.
He and Arya had agreed to this, though. He’d stick to his word.
“Right.” Next to him, Simon rolled around in the grass. “Come on, Simon, want to meet some more people?”
She let out a happy bark and followed them to the sidelines, twining her leash around and between the two of them.
Ben had been amazed how quickly she’d taken to her harness.
Pistachio, his prior rescue back when he lived in Detroit, had hated his harness.
He’d chewed through four of them before he finally seemed to settle down and accept that it was either the harness or no walkies.
As Ben and Arya approached, a kid of ten or so ran up. He had tanned white skin, warm brown eyes, chestnut hair, and a mischievous smile.
Right away he wrapped Arya in a hug, which he quickly returned.
“Hey, Jake. Good to see you.”
“Hey, Uncle Arya.” Jake eyed Simon, eyes wide with excitement. He looked up at Ben. “Is that your dog?”
“Yeah, this is Simon. Do you like dogs?”
Jake nodded. “Can I pet him?”
“Her. And sure.”
“Hi, Simon,” Jake said, offering Simon his hand to sniff and lick before he started scratching under her chin. As he did, one of Arya’s friends—Ben forgot his name—strolled over and rested a hand on Jake’s head. He had tattoos in thin black script on the underside of both wrists.
“Who’s this?” he asked. His voice was smooth and clear.
“Simon!” Jake said. “She’s a girl.”
The man smiled and joined in petting Simon.
“Careful,” Ben joked. “You’ll spoil her.”
“She deserves it,” the man said. Then he looked at Ben. “I’m Ramin, by the way. Noah’s boyfriend.”
Arya grabbed at his chest. “Noah’s boyfriend? Not Arya’s friend? J’accuse!”
Ramin rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind him.”
“I never do.” Ben elbowed Arya, but Arya wrapped their arms together.
Ramin’s eyebrow quirked up.
“I’m Ben.”
“The cellist, right?”
“Right. And—”
“Do you need someone to watch Simon while you play?” Jake blurted out. “Can we do it?”
Ben laughed. “Sure. She seems to like you.”
“Yes!” Jake clenched his free hand into a victory fist. “Is that okay, Ramin?”
“Sure. Does she need anything?”
Ben handed over his backpack. “I’ve got her water bowl and some water in here. And poop bags in case you need them.”
Jake made a face, but Ramin just shrugged. “Hey, if we get a dog, we’ll all have to clean up after them, too.”
“I know, but it’s all warm and squishy…”
Ben laughed and passed Simon’s leash over to Ramin. “Thanks.”
“Of course. Any, uh, friend of Arya’s is a friend of ours.”
He gave Arya a look then, but Arya was looking toward center field, where Marisol and TJ were chatting with Noah.
“Hm?” Arya asked, turning back, oblivious to what had just transpired. “Come on, Ben. We better huddle up.”
“You and Arya looked… cozier than last time,” Marisol said as they jogged along the paved track that ran around Loose Park for a warmup.
“Are you fucking the captain?” TJ asked from Ben’s other side.
Ben nearly tripped. “What? No!”
Just the once, and they had clear rules about it not happening again. Rules no one needed to know about. “We’re… maybe seeing each other.”
TJ cackled. “I knew it! I’ve been telling Ruta all week you’re dating someone. She’s gonna owe me so many fries.”
TJ pulled his phone out. How he could jog and text, Ben did not know.
On his other side, though, Marisol had pressed her lips together.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just, ever since I’ve been on the team I’ve never seen Arya date anyone. Though I know he’s rather seasoned.”
“Seasoned?”
Marisol cocked an eyebrow.
Oh. Seasoned. Ben’s eyebrows flew up.
“Wait. How much of the team has Arya fucked?”
Marisol laughed. “Not all of them, if that helps. Besides, those were just hookups from what I hear. Not dating.”
As they rounded a corner past the cherry blossoms where Ben and Arya had seen the hanky bro, Ben snorted with laughter.
“What?”
“A couple weeks ago, we ran into these straight bros, but one of them had an orange hanky in his right pocket.”
It was Marisol’s turn to snort. “Oh my god.”
“Right? We nearly died laughing.”
“I bet.” Marisol scanned the field, her eyes narrowing. “Hey. I think we’ve got some new blood today!”
Ben followed her gaze. He stubbed his toe and tumbled, barely managing to send himself into the grass instead of skidding across the pavement.
“Whoa, honey! Are you okay?” Marisol pulled him back up. TJ immediately grabbed his hands to check them.
A cellist could function just fine with a sprained ankle or a torn meniscus, but a hand injury? That was a fucking nightmare. Thankfully, Ben’s hip and shoulder had taken the brunt of the fall, and it was more of a gentle roll anyway.
“It was a soft landing. I’m fine.”
Except he wasn’t fine.
Because right at home plate, pulling on a raglan and talking to Arya, was Justin.
Ice flooded Ben’s veins. “That new guy is my ex.”
“Shit,” TJ muttered.
Marisol whooped with laughter. “Oh, this is going to be juicy.”
“What’re you doing here?” Ben asked Justin as they kicked a red bouncy ball back and forth.
Justin looked annoyingly good in his athletic shorts and raglan, but then, Justin’s looks had never been the problem. He raised his hands in surrender.
“I didn’t know you’d be here! Honest!”
Ben shook his head. He didn’t believe that. It was too much of a coincidence.
“I thought it sounded fun! I heard about it from someone at work!”
“Mm-hmm.” Ben narrowed his eyes. That mysterious coworker was nowhere to be found, if they ever existed in the first place.
Maybe Justin was a stalker.
Ben pushed his prescription sunglasses up his nose. They kept slipping; he needed to get them adjusted.
He kicked the ball back to Justin and turned as Arya blew his whistle, gesturing for everyone to huddle up.
Ben jogged over and grabbed a place right next to Arya.
Ben was tempted to kiss him, do a little PDA, but this was practice, and while he wanted to fuck with Justin, he didn’t want to fuck up the team.
But then Arya surprised him, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze, leaning in to give Ben a quick kiss on the cheek to a smattering of giggles.
Ben blushed and studied the grass. He didn’t know why he was so embarrassed.
This was literally the whole point of them pretending to be together.
They were just showing off in front of Justin a little early.
Speaking of Justin, he stood across the huddle from them, arms crossed, looking like he’d sucked on a lemon. David stood next to him, one eyebrow quirked in Arya’s direction.
Arya cleared his throat. “Our first game is only two weeks away, against the Gryphons.”
All around Ben, every member of the team (save Justin) let out a loud, simultaneous booooooo!
“Uh, boo?” Ben added.
“Oh, right, you don’t know,” Arya said. “The Gryphons are from Lawrence. They’re our rivals.
They were so unoriginal they couldn’t even come up with their own mascot.
They just stuck wings on ours. Fucking Jayhawks.
No offense!” Arya called over his shoulder, toward where Ramin and Jake were lying on the grass, rubbing Simon’s belly as she squirmed around, tail wagging a path of destruction.
“None taken!” Ramin shouted back.
“We’re going to destroy them,” Arya finished darkly. But then he brightened. “In a queer, friendly, and inclusive way, of course. I’m legally required to say that. But yeah. Death to the opposition!”
He thrust his arm in the air, giving Ben a whiff of the musk off his armpit.
Sweat and sun, deodorant and cologne. The smell of tea leaves and rosin went right to Ben’s dick.
It twitched in his compression shorts. Fuck, Arya smelled good.
Maybe he had pheromones or something. But Ben could not get hard during practice.
Especially since Arya wasn’t supposed to make him hard. That was literally rule number one. No fucking! And Ben didn’t want to fuck Arya. He was flighty, he was a self-proclaimed slut, he was…
He was really fucking sexy, which was just fucking annoying.
Ben shook himself as the rest of the team joined in the cry. “Death to the opposition!”
Across the huddle, Ben caught Justin shrugging. He resisted the urge to laugh. It was ridiculous.
But then Arya jostled Ben with his side and leaned in close, giving Ben an even stronger whiff of his musk. Ben’s nostrils flared.
“Come on, we’re dating, you have officially inherited all my petty rivalries. Especially KU.”
Ben’s skin caught fire. Yeah, he and Arya were never having sex again, but Ben’s body still remembered that night in the vineyard.
“All right,” Ben said. “But what’s KU?”
“Did you see Justin’s face earlier?” Ben asked, pulling up the hem of his raglan to wipe the sweat off his face. Arya’s eyes lingered on Ben’s happy trail. Ben grinned.
At least he wasn’t the only one getting inappropriately horny.
Arya shook himself and cleared his throat.
“I never took you for the kind of guy who liked making people jealous.”
“I’m not,” Ben admitted. “I mean, I don’t want him back. I just want him to back off.”
“That’s fair.” Arya peeled his own raglan off. Turnabout was fair play: Ben’s eyes zoomed in on the dark brown circles of Arya’s areolae, and Arya caught him.
Ben swallowed and pushed his hair off his face as Arya picked up the mesh bag of balls and slung them over his shoulder. “You want to carpool, or…”
“I was going to shower first,” Ben said. “Can’t go on a date smelling like a locker room.”
Arya laughed. “Okay. But full disclosure, I’ll still smell.”
Shit. They hadn’t thought this through.
In Ben’s defense, when he’d agreed to the post-game date, it had been a cold, rainy April day. He hadn’t planned on needing a shower.
But he couldn’t just let Arya stew in sweaty practice clothes.
“You can shower at mine,” Ben said before he could talk himself out of it. “We can take turns.”
“You sure?” Arya asked, scratching at his chest. “You don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind. It’ll be easier. You’ve got a change of clothes, right?”
Arya nodded.
“Right. Well. It’s not a big deal,” Ben said. “Just remember rule number one.”
Arya chuckled. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were a Boy Scout?”
“Fuck no.”
That got Ben laughing. The nerves in his chest loosened up.
“Come on.”