Thirty-Four Ben #3
And next to him, Arya was still sober, all business in his suit, looking like a snack, and no wonder he’d spent most of his life with a different man in his bed every night.
When you were the sexiest man alive, you could pull all sorts of dick.
Or hole, Ben supposed, since Arya was more of a top. Whatever.
“Right, so, we’re good with the wines?” Justin asked, pouring a tiny bit more into Ben’s glass.
“If everyone agrees,” Arya said, sounding… annoyed? Yeah. Annoyed but trying not to show it.
“Wait!” Maurizio gasped. “What about the bubbles? For the toast?”
Justin laughed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.”
And out of nowhere, there were flutes filled with sparkling wine, and bubbles always went to Ben’s head, but fuck it, he finished his glass, because it tasted good, because he was already two…
three?… sheets to the wind, and everyone else on the committee acted like this was normal, so this was the job, so he better do his part.
But he was definitely drunk now. And some small voice in the back of his head reminded him he was at work, and he should be responsible, so he set his bubbly down and grabbed his water.
The highball glass had gone all dewy on the outside.
Droplets spattered the black tablecloth and his pants as he chugged it.
While he hydrated, Arya talked to Justin about getting a final BEO by end of day on Monday, and they could finalize the contract. That was businessy shit, though. Ben tuned it out as Brenda and Maurizio relived their favorite wines and even more favorite foods for the night.
They were halfway through recounting their first bites of tater tot (seriously, a revelation) when Arya cleared his throat.
“Can we give you all a ride back to the office?” Arya asked. “Or do you want to walk it off?”
Maurizio laughed. “A ride would be great. You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I want you to be safe.”
“Perfect!” Brenda said, scooting her chair back to kick her shoes off ostentatiously. “No more walking!”
Arya nodded and turned to talk to Carley for a second; she nodded and headed out. Justin was talking to some of his staff in the corner. Arya flopped back down next to Ben.
“You doing okay?” he asked, voice low. “Need more water or anything?”
“I’m fine. You’re so thoughtful.” Ben rested his hand on Arya’s arm. “You always look so professional. Like a sexy… suit person.”
Arya snorted. “All right, let’s keep it PG, okay?”
“Politically… gorrect?” Ben asked.
“We’re still on the clock.” Arya frowned and pulled his phone out of his inner jacket pocket. God, that was a sexy place to keep a phone. His face scrunched up. “I better take this. Sorry. Be right back.”
“Okay.” Ben wanted to lean in and kiss Arya, but he didn’t. Because they needed to keep it politically gorrect. So he just admired Arya’s ass in the suit as he stepped out.
Ben reached for his water, but it was empty, so he stood (he only wobbled a bit) and went over to the side table, where there was a carafe to refill his glass.
As he did, Brenda excused herself to the bathroom, and the rest of the committee followed her, and suddenly, somehow, Ben was alone in the room with no one but Justin. Justin.
Who’d gotten him drunk.
“You okay?” Justin asked.
“I’m fine.”
Justin chuckled. “This takes me back.”
“What? Drunk people going overboard at a tasting?”
“That, and making fun of them with you.” Justin gave Ben a small, twinkly smile. But he always had been charming.
So charming. And so handsome. And Ben’s parents had adored Justin. Ben had adored Justin. They’d been good together for so long. And it had still come crashing down.
It couldn’t go that way with Arya. Ben didn’t want it to. He liked Arya, a lot. Arya was fun, he was sharp, he was kind, he was really fucking good at all kinds of sex, he was driven and passionate and he looked out for people.
Ben could see himself falling for a guy like Arya. Shit, maybe he already was.
He wanted to be with Arya. Wanted Arya to be with him, wanted Arya to want to be with him, wanted everything. But Arya… what did he want?
Why was he being so weird? Did he want more and was afraid to say it? Would Ben be setting himself up for heartbreak again, when Arya wanted more and Ben couldn’t give it to him?
Shit.
“We were good together, huh?” Ben blurted out suddenly. He wasn’t even sure why.
Oh yeah. Alcohol.
“For a long time,” Ben continued. “Until we weren’t.”
“I thought so,” Justin admitted. “I’m sorry for… well. Everything, really.”
“Me too,” Ben said.
“You are?”
“Yeah. That I couldn’t be what you wanted.”
Justin sighed. “Oh, Ben. You…”
“You still like to bottom sometimes?” Ben asked.
He never would’ve asked something like that if he wasn’t drunk, but he was. Drunk. Real drunk. Justin looked fuzzy around the edges. Either that or it was more Botox. Did Botox turn your skin all blurry? Ben wasn’t sure.
Justin’s eyes had gone wide. Those didn’t seem blurry around the edges, at least.
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “It’s not my favorite, usually, but with the right guy…”
“Maybe we could… not just you and me… but we…”
Ugh, what the fuck was Ben even saying? But maybe it would make Arya happy.
“What are you asking?” Justin asked.
“We could do a three-way sometime. You and me. And Arya.”
“What the fuck?”
That wasn’t Justin.
Ben turned back to the door.
Where Arya stood staring at him.