Twenty-Six Ben
twenty-six
Ben
Ben’s breath caught.
He couldn’t believe what he’d just said.
Hell, he couldn’t believe what Arya had just said.
Arya kept insisting he was a slut.
He kept insisting they stick to the rules.
And yet here he was. And here Ben was.
Though now that Ben thought about it, not feeling fake could have a lot of interpretations.
“So what are you saying?” Ben asked.
Maybe it wasn’t fair, but he’d noticed Arya turning to putty beneath his hands, and that seemed like the best way to get an honest answer. He traced his thumbs along the cords of Arya’s neck, and Ben swore he could see the tension leaving Arya’s body like smoke rising from a fire.
“I’m saying…” Arya grunted as Ben dug into a particularly gnarly spot. “I’m saying my day was shit, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to talk to you.”
Warmth hummed in Ben’s chest, a low, droning note of comfort. He leaned in a little closer. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Arya sighed as Ben’s hands moved to massage his scalp.
“I think about you, too,” Ben admitted.
This felt dangerous.
This felt inevitable.
“You do?”
“Yeah. I spent all morning excited to see you, and when you didn’t come to the meeting, I nearly pouted. Carley noticed.”
Arya laughed. “She’s observant like that.”
“Yeah. And Justin—”
“Shit.” Arya sat up and turned. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him alone.”
Ben waved him off. “It was fine. I covered okay.”
“Still.” Arya blew out a sigh. “I should’ve texted. Let you know what was going on.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.” Arya bit his lip. “I was just nervous.”
“Nervous?” Ben bit back a smile.
“Scared. Of crossing a line.”
Ben knew what Arya meant. He’d been scared to cross that line, too. But now here they were.
“I’m glad you did,” he said.
“Me too.” Arya rolled out his neck. “Wow. I feel…”
“Better?”
“Yeah. Maybe even relaxed.”
“Only maybe?”
“Maybe you should try a little more. Just to be sure.”
Ben couldn’t help his grin. “You’re worse than Simon.”
At the sound of her name, Simon looked up at the two of them, her tail batting against the couch, but then she yawned and settled down again, draping one paw over her snout.
Ben reached for Arya’s scalp again, but this time Arya stayed facing him, so he could see the bliss spread across Arya’s face. Arya was transformed. Relaxed. Radiant.
So beautiful, Ben ached.
So handsome, Ben couldn’t help himself.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to Arya’s.
Arya didn’t resist him. In fact, he parted his lips immediately, as if he’d been waiting for Ben to do just this. His mouth tasted sharp, like Sauvignon Blanc. Like a crash of cymbals.
Like the first notes of a movement.
Weeks of practice had shown him all the ways Arya liked to be kissed. Tender against his top lip. Rough with his bottom one. Not too much tongue, not at first, not until they’d built up to it. Ben played a concerto on Arya’s lips. A symphony of sensation.
Arya broke the kiss and let out a heavy breath. “I can’t decide if I want to fall asleep or fuck right now.”
Ben laughed, pressed another kiss against Arya’s bottom lip. “I think the traditional order is fucking first, then sleeping.”
“But I’m too relaxed.”
“I’ll take care of you, handsome.”
Ben pushed Arya back against the couch and shifted to get up.
Simon peeked an eye out from beneath her paw—probably hoping they were going for a walk—but Ben summoned her to his bedroom.
She followed him, tail wagging, as he grabbed a treat and her favorite chew toy and got her settled on her doggie bed.
She happily gnawed away while he went to his nightstand, grabbed some supplies, and returned to Arya on the couch.
Arya’s arms were splayed over the back, his eyes closed, head lolling against the cushions. He opened one eye. “What’s that?”
Ben held up the toy, a blue silicone thing that wrapped around your cock and vibrated. You could lube it up and stroke with it, but Ben liked it better without stroking, letting the vibrations make him come on their own.
He wondered if Arya liked being edged.
“This okay? It’s sanitized.”
Ben recognized the telltale sign of Arya’s cock jumping in his athletic shorts.
Arya grinned. “I’m game if you are.”
Ben settled in next to Arya again. He undid the drawstring, shoving Arya’s shorts toward the floor, then reached into his boxer briefs and hauled out his cock.
Despite what Arya had said, that, at least, wasn’t so relaxed.
Ben waved it around a bit, admiring its thickness—actually, that would probably make the toy even better—before sliding the sleeve onto Arya’s cock.
He used the little snap band to secure it, then sat back and pulled out his old, out-of-date phone.
“What’s that for?”
“I wasn’t going to keep the app on my regular phone.” Obviously. What if he loaned his phone to someone at the Philharmonic to look at some music, and they accidentally saw it? He’d die of embarrassment. Or, if he survived, he’d at least have to change orchestras. Maybe even names.
Ben clicked on the toy while his old phone powered up.
“You don’t trade in?”
Ben shrugged and futzed with the Bluetooth settings.
“You ask too many questions.” He leaned in to silence Arya with a kiss. He kept one eye open, though, swiping to the app and turning the toy on.
The buzz echoed in the living room. Arya jumped as the vibrations surrounded his cock.
“Shit,” he huffed against Ben’s lips.
“Okay?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Ben shifted a bit, so he could get a good look at Arya’s cock as it flexed against the confines of the toy, pressing the upper motor against the underside of his dickhead, where his frenulum used to be.
“Fuck. That’s different.”
“Good?”
“Yeah. You know, it’s not often I find a toy I haven’t tried.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s exciting.”
This time, it was Arya who kissed Ben, gently biting Ben’s bottom lip to drag him closer.
Ben went along with it, draped himself over Arya, plunged his tongue into Arya’s mouth so deep he thought he might’ve flicked Arya’s uvula. Arya coughed and Ben retreated.
“Sorry. Too much?”
Arya shook his head and gave Ben a devilish look. “I can handle it.”
Ben gave a devilish smile of his own. “We’ll see.”
He opened the app again, dialed up the intensity, picked one of his favorite rhythmic patterns. Arya’s breath hitched. He dug his feet into the ground, pressing himself back against the couch.
“Fuck!” Arya’s head rolled back. His eyelids fluttered. “That’s…”
The noise of the vibrator shifted, making a flabby sort of sound as Arya’s leaking precum began frothing from the buzz. Ben thumbed it away.
He nearly licked it off himself, but now that he thought about it, he and Arya had never talked about their status. Since breaking up with Justin—after which Ben had gotten tested, just to be extra sure—he hadn’t been with anyone except Arya.
But Arya was a slut, he said so himself, and though Ben trusted Arya to stick to the rule against sleeping with other people, he knew Arya had a wild and varied history before that.
Now didn’t seem like the time to go into PrEP and status and condoms and shit, though. Not when Arya was coming undone right in front of him.
So Ben offered his thumb to Arya, who promptly sucked the salty dew off.
The feeling of Arya’s mouth and tongue against his thumb went straight to Ben’s cock. How had they not done any oral yet? Ben loved oral. Giving or getting, it didn’t matter, he loved it.
His dick was leaking in his shorts just thinking about it, so hard it had skinned itself back. His unsheathed head rubbed against the seam of his underwear, sending staccato notes of pleasure swirling in his core.
He reached for Arya’s shirt, helping him out of it, tossing it into the corner of the living room and then leaned in to trail kisses along Arya’s jawline. Arya gasped and wriggled, like his body was trying to get away, but there was nowhere to go where the vibrator wouldn’t follow.
“Too much?” Ben asked, just to make sure. Maybe Arya was more sensitive to the vibrations than he thought.
But Arya huffed. “I’m good.”
“Good.” Ben cranked up the vibrations one more notch and set it to a sine wave pattern. Arya’s dick flexed again, and his hips nearly lifted off the couch. Ben’s own dick flexed hard. He loved seeing Arya like this. Under his control.
Ben might’ve been a side, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like taking charge sometimes. Having a man at his mercy.
Ben delighted in the little whimpers Arya made. The way his dick swayed back and forth as he flexed his pubic floor. The way his precum ran like a river now, off the side of the stroker and down toward his coarse black pubes.
Their last times having sex, they’d come at it as equals. Taking turns giving and receiving pleasure. But now, Ben had Arya under his control.
He’d never seen Arya like this. Vulnerable.
And damn, it was nearly enough to make Ben come in his shorts.
This had gone way beyond being fake boyfriends letting off steam. This was something else. Something dangerous. Something exhilarating.
Ben reached for Arya’s nipples, taking one in each hand. He rolled the perky nubs, gently twisting, and Arya arched his back and cried out, “Ben!”
Ben’s name had never sounded sexier than when it sang like a hymn from Arya’s lips.
“I’m here, sexy.” He gave another solid pinch. “I’m here.”
Arya sucked in a breath. “I think… I think I’m close?”
“Oh yeah?” Ben released Arya’s nipples and reached for his phone. “We can’t have that. Not yet.”
He turned the vibrations down to a low, steady hum, and Arya’s clenched body relaxed some.
“That was mean,” Arya complained without heat.
“Haven’t you heard of edging before?”
“It’s more fun when I’m the one doing the edging.”
Ben quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that an offer?”
“You know it is.” Arya reached for the tent in Ben’s shorts, but Ben brushed the hand away.
“I told you. I’m taking care of you.”
He turned Arya’s face toward him, drew him into another long, ecstatic kiss.
He played Arya’s mouth like a concerto. Long swipes of his tongue against Arya’s.
Gentle, insistent teeth against Arya’s bottom lip.
He leaned back just enough to see his phone and start a stronger pattern again, sawtooth, clamping his mouth back on Arya’s to keep him from floating off the couch.
Ben laughed as their teeth knocked together, adjusted his angle, and kept kissing. He held his phone in his right hand and returned his left to Arya’s nipples.
He brought Arya to the brink again, and then a third time.
Arya’s dick kept drooling out precum, and Ben kept feeding it to him.
Each swipe of Arya’s tongue against Ben’s thumb went straight to his core.
He’d started rocking his hips, chasing the friction of his own underwear against his frenulum, as he dragged Arya closer and closer to the inevitable.
The motors on the vibrator were warm to the touch when Ben checked, which meant they’d probably been doing this a little too long. Time to finish this.
He leaned in for another kiss, gave Arya’s lips one last strong suck, then sat back and cranked the vibrations up to their highest settings. He tossed his phone behind him and planted his mouth on Arya’s left nipple.
“Oh god, Ben!” Arya’s hands came up to cradle Ben’s head, weave through Ben’s messy hair.
Arya’s thumb knocked Ben’s glasses off his ear, but he ignored them, savoring the taste of Arya’s skin, the crescendo of his own thundering heart, the slick, cold friction of his cock against his underwear, the desperation in Arya’s voice.
“Oh shit,” Arya gasped. His breath shuddered, and Ben released Arya’s nipple to sit back and take in the fireworks.
Arya’s dick shot like a cannon, cum flying nearly as high as their heads before arcing back down.
Some shots landed on the floor; some on Arya’s thigh; a few on the couch.
Arya flinched at the next few contractions, weaker spurts that leaked over the vibrator and soaked into the hair of his inner thighs.
Ben was so turned on by the sight, his own core hitched up.
He flexed his dick, squirmed in his seat, and there, there, that sweet rasp of cotton against his frenulum, and he was coming, too, his perineum clenching in andante, warm cum filling his underwear, and he didn’t even care, because Arya was glowing before him, a sheen of sweat on his golden skin, gasping for breath like he’d been underwater.
“I can’t take it,” he grunted, flinching and curling in on himself, and Ben reached for the vibrator and clicked it off. Arya immediately went limp, melting against the couch.
Ben surveyed the damage. There was cum on the upholstery, on Arya’s legs and stomach. A fan spattered across the floor.
Ben heard a sneeze and looked up, back toward his bedroom door. Simon stood there, looking supremely unimpressed with the both of them.
“Don’t judge,” he said in her direction.
Arya looked up and started laughing. And then Ben started laughing, too. He rested his forehead against Arya’s and savored the warmth of the moment.
“Fuck. That was different. I’m a mess.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” Ben promised.