2. Jack
“What the fuck are you doing here, Benji?”
I can’t hide the frustration and annoyance that seep through my voice. Benji has always had a special way of getting under my skin during the best of circumstances so having him wake me up only two hours after I finally closed the bar doesn’t have me in the best mood.
“Have you seen Jessica today?”
Benji’s voice is quiet and the way his voice catches on my sister’s name catches me off guard. Benjamin Ashe has been my younger sister’s shadow, and a constant thorn in my side, ever since they met in middle school. He’s way too attached to her and I find his little unrequited crush on her a bit pathetic. It should be ironic given that my own unrequited, impossible crush on straight Benji is half the reason I can’t stand being around him. Not that I’d ever admit that to anyone. Nope. My secret infatuation with my sister’s little puppy is going to the grave with me.
“No, I talked to her a few days ago.”
“Do you know the name of the new guy she’s seeing? I heard he looks a bit like a lumberjack?” Benji looks nervous, shifting from foot to foot, but offers no explanation for why he’s shown up in the middle of the night to gossip about Jessica’s latest beau.
“Uh, no? That’s something you’d know more about than me. The last guy I heard about was a real estate agent and she told me she was shutting that down because he was wanting something serious. The only reason I even know about that guy is because we bumped into him after we went to lunch a few weeks ago.”
“I’m worried about her. Can I come in? It’s really cold out here.” I take in Benji’s appearance for the first time, cringing at his bright character pajama bottoms and his ripped sweater.
“Look, can this wait until morning? I just closed the bar and I’ve had less than two hours of sleep. I’m sure Jessica is fine.”
“She’s not fine, Jack.” Benji’s voice has an edge that I’ve never heard before, which is amazing because I’ve spent the last fifteen years memorizing every possible tone and timber of his voice.
“What?”
“She’s not fine. I think-I think she’s dead.” Benji’s green eyes stare into mine and he gives me a look like he’s willing me to understand but none of what he’s saying makes even a lick of sense.
“What do you mean you think my sister is dead?” My own voice is taking on an aggressive, almost accusatory tone. I pause and take a deep breath and try to remain calm. “Did you do something?”
Jessica has a history of attracting fixation. There was no other way to describe the magnetic pull she seems to have on so many people. She has a wide circle of acquaintances and is widely liked by nearly everyone she meets. Jess has a way of simultaneously lighting up a room while also making everyone in that room feel special and seen. I’ve always joked that if she chose to use her charisma for evil she could probably take over the world.
The unfortunate side effect of that charisma is that Jess also drew in people who became fixated, almost obsessed. In high school, one of my best friends had started literally stalking my sister.
It took a restraining order to remove Derek from her life and even then the police had been called numerous times to enforce said orders.
Even now, I can picture the fear in Jessica’s eyes as she would look out her window and see Derek staring back from just across the street. The trouble with stalkers is they’re also sometimes your neighbor. It made escaping Derek’s constant attention impossible. Jessica moved out of our parent’s house as soon as she could and eventually that physical space seemed to lessen Derek’s obsession. We haven’t heard a peep from him in half a decade.
I always assumed that Benji’s needy ways were innocent but showing up at my doorstep and declaring my sister is dead has me suddenly second guessing their relationship.
“Of course I didn’t do anything to her, you- you asshole!” The look of complete and total horror and indignation on Benji’s face is an instant guilt-driven punch to the gut. Benji musters what must be his most intimidating glare- though in truth it’s a lot like a French Bulldog trying to look tough- and pushes past me into my apartment.
“Come on in, I guess.”
“Thank you, I will.”
For a moment the silence between us is heavy and I’m not quite sure where to even begin. Benji looks just as tired as I feel and is clearly running on limited sleep, too. His hair is a mess and his eyes have a wild, almost prey-like quality to them that I’ve never seen before.
“I would never hurt Jessica but I get how that phrasing might have sounded… I don’t know, incriminating. I saw Jessica tonight. She… she was floating at the end of my bed and she had all these leaves in her hair and she said something about needing to find her. I swear there were handprints around her neck like someone had strangled her or something. She just disappeared, evaporated into thin air… like poof Casper the ghost style vanished. I know it sounds crazy but it’s just like in high school with the lady under your tree-”
Benji’s words are coming out a mile a minute and my brain struggles to connect the dots. His hands are visibly shaking and his face has grown at least a few shades paler during his word vomit, almost as though he actually has seen a ghost.
“I-are you saying you saw my sister as a ghost?”
I never believed Benji’s bullshit ghost story when we were teens and I sure as fuck don’t think he saw my sister floating around the end of his bed tonight. I’m not quite sure how he managed to find that body under our tree but there’s no way a ghost was actually involved.
“Yes. I saw Jess and she…she was a ghost.” His voice catches on the last word and tears threaten to spill from his eyes.
“Shit, you actually think something bad happened to her.” Ghost or no ghost, Benji’s fear for my sister’s safety is clearly real.
“Yes, Jack, I really do.”
“Have you gone to her place?” I ask and as soon as the words leave my mouth I can see Benji is gearing up for a snappy response.
“Of fucking course I’ve been to her place. I wouldn’t just show up here knowing how much you hate me and how unwelcome I am without first checking her place.”
The words sting a bit because I don’t hate Ben; I wish I did because that would be a lot easier than the complicated ball of emotions I feel whenever I look at him. Benji has been the bane of my existence since he first met Jessica. He makes it almost impossible for me to really date because I constantly compare every man I meet to Ben’s perfect green eyes and tousled chocolate curls.
While I am bisexual, if I had to pinpoint a type, it would be short, petite guys with curls and green eyes that glow like a cat’s. If Ben were gay he would be the quintessential twink; he’s always been a smaller guy and even after his last big growth spurt right after high school he’s still four or five inches shorter than me.
“Did Kristie know where she is?”
“No, she just said Jess has been seeing some lumberjack. Which honestly, doesn’t really narrow it down in a place that loves plaid flannel and beards. Half the male population is rocking lumberjack chic.”
I can’t help but chuckle because he’s not wrong. Hell, half my wardrobe consists of flannels and while I’m no lumberjack…I could be mistaken for one.
“Okay, well I know nothing about a lumberjack. I do know that there’s nothing we can do right now. I think you need to go home and sleep. I’m betting in the morning Jess will show up and have a good laugh about all this ghost nonsense. It was probably just a nightmare.”
“I owe it to Jess to find her. Something is wrong and I can’t just go to sleep and pretend everything is fine.”
For all of my grumbling about Benji, he’s always been loyal as fuck to my sister.
“If something is wrong and you really did see her ghost…what can we even do about it right now? Honestly, the police aren’t going to take us seriously until the morning anyways. There’s nothing we can do.” I don’t believe for a second that Ben actually saw a ghost today but appealing to logic might be the best way to calm him down…and more importantly to get him out of my place.
“I can’t go back to my place…not after seeing her there…I just can’t. Not tonight.” The genuine look of fear pulls on a thread of guilt. Jessica will be pissed if I throw her bestie out in this state.
I huff out a long exasperated sigh and run a hand down my face in both frustration and resignation.
“Fine, take the couch and in the morning we’ll go find my sister.”
Letting Ben stay on my couch is a colossal mistake. I can feel his presence and it’s impossible to stop the constant whooshing sound in my ears as my heart slams against my chest. I’ve kept my distance from Benji for a reason; if I spend too much time around him he’s bound to catch the way my blood constantly rushes to my face and neck. He’ll inevitably catch me staring with stupid heart eyes when I hope he isn’t looking and where will that leave me? Better to have a secret unrequited crush than have to hear him politely turn me down.
Because of course Benji would be polite about it. Oh yes, I can just picture the sad look on his face and his stammering apologies as he tries to let me down easily. Nope. I can’t risk it. This is the last time he’s staying over. Tomorrow we just need to find my sister and hopefully calm his crazy and then go back to an ocean of space between us.
I need that ocean of space because having only a door between us is too tempting. I want to sneak out there when Benji’s light snoring begins, just like it used to in high school when he would have sleepovers with my sister. I want to stare at him and memorize the new lines and slight changes to the contours of his face. Benji is aging like fine wine. I want to catalog all of the minute changes and why they somehow make him even more beautiful.
Because fuck, Benji is beautiful. Those green eyes have always undone me, but seeing them shiny with unshed tears has me weak. The man has such delicate features. A tall, but thin nose with a smattering of freckles across the bridge and across his cheeks. I practically tower over him and that dynamic does things to me that I’m not proud of.
Bending Benji over and taking full advantage of that size difference has been a consistent reel in my spank bank. If I’m being honest, my spank bank mostly consisted of Benji and all of the various things I want to do with him.
It feels so inappropriate to be fantasizing like this given the circumstances but I am one hundred percent positive that Ben didn’t actually see a ghost. So setting that aside, it doesn’t feel quite as terrible to be unable to focus on anything but the man currently sleeping on my couch.
I can imagine Benji sleeping against my pillow, his face relaxed and that pensive facial expression he often wears no where in sight. I know he has a light snore when he’s really out for the night and I’ve even seen him drool on a few occasions.
I would never admit it but in high school there were a few times where I watched him sleep. Benji and Jessica often stayed up late watching scary movies and there were a few occasions where he passed out and she left him for the comforts of her own bed.
The first time I watched under the guise of tucking Benji in. After all, it gets cold downstairs at night and he clearly needed a thicker blanket. Lingering to watch his peaceful face had been a less admirable moment but not nearly as shameful as the fact that I had rushed up to my room and promptly pulled out my dick.
Who gets hard from watching someone sleep?
Apparently, me.
Thankfully, it seems to be a Benji specific fetish. I’ve never had any interest in watching anyone else sleep. After that first time, I had a tendency of hoping he would pass out downstairs so that I could get my cheap thrill in. The only time I can openly admire Ben is when he’s asleep and constantly hiding behind a scowl gets a bit exhausting at times.
It’s almost to be expected that sleeping Benji holds a great deal of appeal for me, or that’s what I tell myself when I’m trying to analyze my somnophilia into being normal, totally not creepy thing.
Needless to say, having Benji once again sleeping in my presence is doing terrible things to me. My cock is half mast just thinking about sneaking out to watch him and I can feel the hard pounding of my heart against my chest as heat continues to burn down to my groin. I let out a small groan before rolling over to bury my face and the noise in the pillow.
Of course all that does is give my cock friction against the mattress and I immediately begin humping against the sheets looking for some type of relief. I roll my hips a few times before a noise in the living room causes me to pause. I wait and listen for a second, the silent almost sounding static in my ears. I give another small roll of my hips and then I hear it again only this time the sound is an unmistakable moan.
I’ve spent a million hours fantasizing about what Benji sounds like when he’s jacking off but they all fall short to the small, almost high pitch uhhh sound that just came from beyond my door. For a moment I’m so shocked that I don’t know how to react; I just lay there with my hard cock pushing against my mattress and a dumb look of awe on my face.
When Benji groans again my body is suddenly in motion and before I can actively think through the consequences I find myself standing in front of my bedroom door. If I open it a crack, Benji won’t be able to see it from the end of the couch that he was laying on. My living room is practically lit up from a streetlight outside and I know there’s a decent chance I’ll be able to see.
It’s so fucked but I also know this may be my only opportunity to ever live out any type of sexual experience with the man I literally dream about. So with a shocking lack of remorse or guilt, I open the door just enough that I can peek out.
Benji is stretched out along my couch, his head and pillow obscured by the hallway wall so I know he can’t see me. The blanket is covering his feet and calves but his boxer briefs have been pulled down and his shirt pulled up to reveal a tantalizing amount of skin. His hand is practically flying over his cock as he jacks himself furiously.
Another sound escapes his lips and just like that my cock is suddenly out and I’m jacking it just as furiously as he is. I’ve always had a lot of precum, so I gather up the liquid beginning to leak from my tip and use it to stroke myself in earnest. I know I won’t last long, not with one of my biggest fantasies playing out before my eyes.
I want to savor this and commit it to memory. I’ve never seen Ben’s cock before and while the light from the street isn’t enough to give me a proper view it is enough that I can make out his general size and shape. His cock is proportional to his smaller stature, maybe four or so inches, and fuck if that doesn’t do it for me. I can imagine wrapping my hand around both of our cocks, his several inches shorter with much less girth than mine, and how fucking hot that size difference would look.
It’s that thought that sends me right over the edge and I have to rush to cup my palm over my cock to keep from spurting all over the floor. A deep groan escapes my throat and I try to swallow it down as waves of pleasure wash over me.
My legs are shaking and my heart is pounding so loud that I almost miss the high pitch ‘uhhh’ sound slipping from Benji’s lips. His hips jut forward a few times as he fucks his own hand.
I can’t really see Benji’s load on his stomach but I can’t miss him lifting his hand to his mouth a few times. I have the biggest urge to peak around the corner of the wall so I can watch him lick up the mess, which is what I know he must be doing. Thankfully post orgasm clarity has me slipping back into my room with my tail between my legs.
It’s only after I’m back in bed and my heart rate has returned to normal that it occurs to me that I wasn’t exactly quiet and there’s the very, very distinct possibility that Benji heard me come.