Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
The birds were singing.
The sun was shining.
The morning was alive with the sound of freaking music.
At least that's how Benny was feeling.
It didn't matter to him that the chirping birds outside of his window had woken him up at six, the sun was mostly tucked behind a brewing storm cloud, and instead of music there was a marathon of House Hunters on and each couple seemed one more compromise away from a break-up.
Benny was in a good mood.
That was just the truth.
So, he watched the people who wanted space to entertain fight with their partners about the commute, nodded along with the real estate agents that gently reminded a few clients that paint colors shouldn’t be deal breakers, and picked up his phone long enough to Google search how much certain jobs paid to better understand how any of the hunters could afford their budgets.
It wasn’t until an episode with a young newlywed couple who were wanting to put roots down in North Carolina but couldn’t decide between the city or the suburbs, that Benny found himself wondering what he would do in their shoes.
What Jack would do.
Would he give Benny the city townhouse or be okay with settling down in the cookie cutter boxes with the neighborhood HOA?
A series of thoughts that, historically, should have produced a blush instead pushed a different kind of warmth into Benny’s face.
The fashion show the night before had changed something in him—in them—and Benny wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.
They’d had fun preparing for it, even the parts where Jack had complained about the prices of costumes before him—and Ethan had argued about feathers behind them—while Benny had gone through the racks. And they’d had fun setting it all up.
That was to say nothing of the actual show.
Jack might have hesitated at first, but after his simple declaration of liking the noise, he’d let his hair down, so to speak.
The grumpy bartender had given them all a show and, with every step and laugh and ridiculous show of skin, Benny had seen it for what it was.
Jack Knox was fighting for his dream.
And Benny had wanted to do nothing more than help him.
That wasn’t even including his accidental Rapunzel rescue the few days before. The casual mention of blow jobs while hanging upside down. The laughter, the concern, the lack of scolding.
Jack hadn’t judged him then.
He also hadn’t judged him when Derrick had taken over Cassidy’s microphone.
Instead, he’d asked Benny to judge the rest of them.
By the end of the night, Benny had gone from stomach-twisting mortification to his stomach hurting from laughter.
Cassidy’s patrons hadn’t just distracted him from his pain, they’d shown him that he wasn’t alone. Everyone had that one story that was waiting to trauma-bond them to someone else’s embarrassing-something.
It wasn’t until they were riding home that Callum—drunk on a few too many fizzy, fruity, dangerously delicious Cassidy’s Specials—leaned over and said what Benny hadn’t yet put into words.
“You two are good together, you know?” he’d said. “I really like him, Benny. He—He doesn’t smile a lot, but when he does? It’s always at you.”
Benny, who had also had a few by then, had felt giddy at the observation.
Now, sitting with a House Hunters episode about planning for the future, sober and alone, Benny thought his brother was right.
They might not be real, but he and Jack had managed to sync up more than they had fallen apart. Awkward moments of truth, small moments, spicy moments… Jack had handled them.
No. Handled wasn’t the word.
Jack had accepted them, lived in them, and hadn’t dwelled on any of it.
He’d gone with the flow, alongside Benny.
Was he treating Benny that way all because he was playing pretend, or was it how Jack actually felt, without any conditions?
Did he really smile at Benny when Benny didn’t notice?
There were no answers he could get sitting on the couch, alone, and by the time the clock hit ten, his questions turned to excitement.
Today was the day they were getting Roger Norman’s boat, which meant Jack—secret smiles or not—was going to be at his side soon.
Benny didn’t mean to, but he got ready for the event like he would a date. He checked his reflection three times, adjusted his clothes twice, and by the time the doorbell sounded, he didn’t realize just how dark the house had gotten.
It wasn’t until he opened the door to Jack staring down at his phone that he realized thunder had been rumbling for a bit now too.
“Hey, I know we're supposed to go get the boat, but do you mind if we wait a minute?”
Jack turned his phone around. Radar was pulled up on the screen and an angry blob of red was moving in their direction.
“There's a storm about to pass over us and I'd like to not wreck the boat we're borrowing,” he continued. “Roger’s already got a lot on his plate, and I really don't want to paint any more rooms in his house if I can help it.”
Benny worried belatedly that his breath might not have been the best it could have been.
He nodded, already picturing where Cal’s pack of gum lay on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, yeah, that's no problem for me,” he said, words running into each other. He overcompensated for the nervous quickness by becoming Vanna White walking to touch the lit-up letter. Benny swept his arm out and extended his hand toward the living room. “Come on in.”
Jack’s eyebrow rose, much to Benny’s equal delight and horror at being perceived.
“Okay.”
There was a hint of laughter in the two syllables. Benny powered through them to the living room. His earlier warmth had turned to a familiar, default blush. Benny didn’t exactly understand it.
He’d had the man’s full on erect penis in his hand, but heaven forbid he invite him to sit in the living room.
“Why don't we watch some House Hunters?” he asked, still Vanna White-ing around the room. “A new episode just started and I think the couple lowkey hates each other.”
Benny settled on the edge of the couch. Half of him expected Jack to take the chair next to it, but the bartender took the center cushion next to him.
Instead of making him hotter at the way their thighs touched, the contact somehow began to cool his impending meltdown.
“Are you hungry or thirsty?” he asked. “I can make us something. I don’t know what, but at the very least I have coffee.”
Jack cracked his neck side to side, eyes on the TV still.
“I’m good. Dixon was still riding the high of last night when I got up.
I’ve never seen him make so much food so quickly for breakfast.” Jack paused whatever he was about to say and readjusted.
His dark eyes turned on him. “But if you want something, I can get it. I can probably swing into the coffee shop before the storm hits. It’s not that far away. ”
Benny shook his head quick.
Thunder boomed right after.
“No. I’d like you to not go out in this, if you don’t mind.”
Jack said he didn’t and his attention went back to the TV.
A new feeling started to creep in as Benny mimicked his lounging.
It grew stronger at each boom of thunder.
Benny tried to ignore it and listen to the increasingly grumpy mutterings of the man next to him.
“You can't get that house next to the main street, Karen,” Jack told the TV. “You have small children. You should be able to sacrifice a little bit of entertaining space to make sure they’re safe.” He snorted.
Then he slapped at Benny’s chest to make sure he had his attention.
“You know, we could probably make this a game at the bar.
Every time someone worries about entertaining spaces, you have to take a shot.
“Though maybe that’s not the best idea,” he added on, shaking his head. “Just based on this episode alone, I think we’d induce mass alcohol poisoning.”
Benny laughed but the outside world had only gotten darker.
Wondering about the future—their future—and how cool he could act in the present turned into Benny stumbling backwards into the past.
When lightning cracked and thunder boomed so loud overhead that the walls rattled, Benny couldn’t help but freeze.
When the power cut off, he was fifteen again.
He was also intertwined with Jack.
“Oh—uh, sorry,” Benny blurted out. He’d managed to hook himself around Jack’s arm. “I know it’s cheesy to say, but I’m kind of afraid of the dark, especially when it’s storming.”
Benny might have apologized, but he didn’t move.
Jack’s voice was matter-of-fact.
“A little rain and darkness never hurt anyone. Don’t worry.”
Benny knew Jack meant well, but his words stabbed.
“No,” he agreed. “But if you put them together, they can kill.”
The rain finally hit, as if underlining the sentiment. Benny’s hold on Jack tightened. Jack’s voice dropped into a seriousness that made Benny turn towards him.
“Well, I can't do anything about the rain, but let’s see if I can’t make us some light.”
Benny let himself be de-tangled and led into the kitchen. He was parked by the kitchen sink as Jack started pulling out the drawers.
Benny didn’t know why, but it seemed the best time to finally talk about the worst time of his life.
“My mom loved ice cream. I mean, really loved it. Couldn't go a day without at least a spoonful.” Benny couldn’t see the man’s expression, but he knew Jack was listening as he rummaged.
He continued, rubbing at his own arms while the rain pelted the window at his back.
“My dad loved it too, but he told me that was only because it made Mom so happy. So, every day or night when she sat down to have that spoonful or bowl, Dad made it a point to sit with her and join in too. They were like that together, you know? Lovesick teenagers who always seemed to be touching and swooning over each other.”
Despite himself, Benny smiled a little.
“At the time, it was a little annoying to Callum and me. We'd just be out in public and they’d be giggling or they'd be standing next to the kitchen sink eating ice cream, still just giggling like teenagers.”
Benny let out a slow breath.
The tension in his chest didn’t ease.