Thomas hated the worry that sparked up his spine at the way Ben referenced their arrangement and it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, but he couldn’tnotask. A lifetime of not asking Jennifer was what had gotten him an apartment the size of his former basement and a costly divorce.
“It could be,” Ben squinted, a half wink expression that Thomas couldn’t make sense of. “But later. I can answer what I like about it if you want.”
“I am curious,” he said, glad to not havethe talkyet.
Ben leaned closer, raising one hand to shield his mouth, even though he didn’t lower the volume of his voice. “I like it because I know my body is the first you’ve ever had. My mouth is the first male mouth around that gorgeous cock. My hand, the first male hand…”
Thomas thought of all the things they hadn’t done that Ben could maybe one day add to his list. The first man he’d kiss, the first man he’d let inside ofhim. He shivered, remembering how hard he’d come with his fingers dancing against his asshole and wondering how Ben would have touched him.
“I get the idea,” he rasped.
“You’re my first virgin.”
“I’m hardly a virgin.” He scoffed.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’d never…” He trailed off, unsure of how much he wanted to say, but also well aware he’d already said too much to come back from. “Not just with a man, but I’d never…”
“Use your words,” Ben coaxed, eyes glittering in the light.
“Fucked someone’s ass before,” he said, throwing up his hands. “I’ve never fucked someone’s ass.”
“We’ll get you better at it.”
He feigned hurt. “Are you saying I’m bad?”
“I’m saying we’ll get you better.” Ben chewed his lower lip between his teeth. “That gives me an idea.”
“Should I be scared?” By this point, Thomas’s gelato was a melted pool of stale cookies and quickly warning milk.
“I wouldn’t be.”
“What’s your idea?”
“How familiar are you with your prostate?” Ben asked.
The tips of Thomas’s ears warmed under the cool night air. “Excuse me?”
“Your prostate.”
“I know it exists,” he sputtered.
“Have you ever found it?” Ben leaned in again. “Touched it?”
“No.”
“And I know you haven’t touched anyone else’s either.”
“Obviously not,” he said.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” Ben stood up and tossed his empty cup into a nearby trash can. “Was yours not good?”
“I wasn’t that hungry,” he lied, adding his into the trash.
“Should we head back to your place and do a little exploring?” Ben wiggled his fingers and laughed, threading his arm into the crook of Thomas’s elbow and pulling him away from the gelato shop.
“You wanted to talk about our arrangement,” he said, committing the feel of Ben’s hand against his arm to memory.
