He knew it didn’t mean anything, or that it wasn’t supposed to, but it felt so easy and so right, and he was so thankful for it. For the cool February night, and the cloudy sky, and the melted gelato, and all of it.
“I don’t really want to,” Ben corrected, giving him a squeeze.
“But do we have to?”
“Probably. At some point.”
Thomas sighed, and together they turned the corner.
Without warning, lightning flashed above them at the same time thunder clapped, shattering the quiet of the night. The clouds parted and it started to pour. Rain splattered around them, on them, and Thomas looked up as drops landed in his eyes and on his cheeks. Beside him, Ben laughed, water streaking down his throat, his shirt immediately soaked and plastered to his lithe, swimmer’s chest.
“Come on.” He raised his shoulder and cocked his elbow forward, trying to urge Ben along down the street. His building was in sight and he wanted to get out of the rain. “Hurry up.”
“Why?” Ben asked with a laugh, shaking his hand free from Thomas’s arm. Thomas tried to not mourn the loss of the affectionate touch, but found it near impossible.
“Why?” he repeated Ben’s question. “Because it’s pouring rain! We’re getting soaked.”
“We’re already soaked.” Ben laughed again and hooked his arms around Thomas’s neck, spinning them in a circle on the sidewalk. He looked up and inhaled deeply, his dark lashes fluttering as he breathed.
“We’re already soaked,” Ben said again, “But now the whole night smells like you.”
“Excuse me?”
Their rotation slowed to a stop and Ben’s nose dragged up the side of Thomas’s neck. It wasn’t a kiss, it wasn’t anywhere near to being a kiss, but it felt as intimate as he’d always worried a kiss could be. He and Ben were nearly the same height, with Thomas only having an inch or two on the younger man and he stayed still as he could, letting Ben breathe him in.
“You smell like the rain,” Ben said. “Even before now. When you came outside earlier, you smelled like the rain.”
Thomas’s breath hitched in his throat and as Ben slowly pulled his face away from his neck, he looked down. They were terribly close, painfully close, and he could smell the mint from Ben’s gelato against his lips. Thomas swallowed hard, closing his eyes, unsure of if he wanted Ben to lean up to meet him or put space between them.
“Now you smell like the rain too,” he whispered.
Ben made a quiet sound that puffed against Thomas’s mouth.
His heart slammed against his ribs, and he could feel Ben’s match his, beat for rapid beat, from the other side. Ben’s arms slid down his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms, until their fingers tangled together in the barest of holds. Thomas swore if Ben asked to kiss him, he would have said yes. He would have begged for the other man’s tongue in his mouth, their bodies hot and aligned in the unexpected storm.
But for as immediately as the rain had started, it stopped, and the stillness of the experience shattered between them like glass. Ben cleared his throat and chose to step back, putting space between them. Thomas realized in that moment how much he’d been hoping for a kiss, and he understood the urgency of the conversation about the bounds of their agreement.
“We should get inside before it starts up again,” Ben said, starting down the street. Thomas wasn’t sure if he was walking to his place or if he’d keep going on to his own. He followed a step or two behind, relief flooding him when Ben came to a stop in front of his building instead of carrying on.
“Are you sure?” he asked, not willing to speak about what had passed between them, but not able to ignore it.
Ben smiled, even though it didn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m positive,” he said. “Take me upstairs, Thomas. Show me your bed.”
CHAPTER13
BEN
Thomas’s apartmentwas somehow nothing and everything like him all at the same time. Ben didn’t get much of a chance to survey the living area because Thomas walked him right into the bedroom and closed the door without so much as a word. Ben leaned back against the door and watched Thomas as he discarded his clothes with no preamble. Long gone was the nervous man who’d shown up at Ben’s place no more than two weeks before with his eager confidence and hidden insecurities.
“I didn’t picture you being a black room, white sheets kind of guy,” he mused.
“Are you surprised?” Thomas stood before him in a pair of white boxers, tented from his growing erection.
Ben tilted his head to the side, appraising Thomas with careful and quiet thought. His initial response would have been affirmative, and he knew he didn’t know much about Thomas, but something about the space felt entirely fitting to the other man.
“Honestly, no,” he said. “The plants in the other room are a bit unexpected, though.”
