“How do I feel?” he asked again, fingers tightening around Thomas’s waist.
Thomas nodded, like he didn’t have the words.
“You too,” he said.
Thomas withdrew until the head of his cock popped out of Ben’s hole. He quickly shoved back in, burying himself balls deep in one thrust. Ben whimpered, scratching his nails up Thomas’s back and pulling him down for a kiss. Thomas tilted his head to the side to align their lips, and as he licked his way into Ben’s mouth, he started once again to move.
In and out and in and out.
His tongue mirrored his hips with a steady pace that was clearly meant to make Ben lose his mind. This felt different, and not just because there wasn’t a condom keeping them apart. This felt bigger, monumental, like for all the words that had passed between them, the unspoken ones being said in that very bed were the most important of all. His mind recalled him back to the couch when Thomas vowed so solemnly it would be an honor to love him, and Ben wondered how he knew.
He spit in his palm and made a loose fist around his cock, letting the rough pumps of Thomas’s hips drive his cock in and out of his hand at the same pace Thomas moved in and out of his body. His orgasm was already dangerously close, and the slide of his palm quickly brought him to the edge. At least, he told himself it was his hand—not his heart.
“You’re close,” Thomas grunted before Ben could even open his mouth. “You get so tight when you’re about t—”
Ben cried out as he came, the force of his orgasm bordering on catastrophic as cum shot out of his dick. His release painted his knuckles, his chest, all the way up to his chin. He thrashed beneath Thomas until a hand on the front of his shoulder steadied him enough to ground him back in the present. Thomas clenched his jaw, his cock thickening and pushing at Ben’s already stretched and well-fucked channel, and then with a low growl, Thomas came inside of him.
Heat flooded the deepest parts of him, pushing the rest of his own cum out of the tender tip of his dick. Thomas grimaced, teeth grinding together, abdominal muscles clenching and contracting as he spilled into Ben’s asshole.
For an eternity, neither of them moved, neither of them said anything. Their breathing returned to normal, and Ben’s cock began to soften in his hand. He released himself and grabbed Thomas, hauling him down and kissing him once again. This time he moved his mouth with a languid and satisfied kind of pleasure that sent shivers up the length of his spine. Thomas held onto him, returning the kiss with all of the same emotion Ben was pouring into him.
“That was…” he whispered against Thomas’s mouth, the words that came to mind not feeling like enough.
Nice.
Great.
Everything.
Perfect.
Best.
None of them even came close to saying what he wanted to say, so instead of using words, he kissed Thomas again. He touched him, he moved with him and beneath him, until Thomas’s cock turned hard again, and then Ben let his body say the rest.
CHAPTER20
THOMAS
Thomas had putoff calling Jennifer as long as he could manage, but by the time Thursday rolled around and he hadn’t heard from her, he gave in. He texted her on his way to work asking if they could grab lunch and she agreed—which surprised him—but it was what he wanted. That didn’t stop his nerves from taking root at the base of his spine through two hours of morning meetings and half a dozen text exchanges with Ben about all the ways he wanted Thomas to fuck him the next time they saw each other. Thinking about Ben’s bare ass wasn’t even enough to distract him from the conversation he was ramping up to have with his very soon-to-be ex-wife.
When he’d told Ben about his lunch plans, Ben sent him a series of skull and coffin emojis, quickly followed by a message with four simple words—Will you be okay?
Of course, he’d answered, even though he didn’t believe it. He was forty-five years old, and a conversation with the woman he’d spent his entire life with shouldn’t have felt as daunting as it did. But he was a different man than he was when he met her, when he married her, when he divorced her. Ben had made him a different person, or maybe he’d always been this man and understanding what it meant to be with Ben was like a permission slip to let himself learn more too.
Either way.
He’d picked a place close to his office so he walked there, rolling up his sleeves so he didn’t sweat too profusely on the way over. Jennifer had gotten there before him, already seated at a table with a half-empty glass of water in front of her. She glanced up, her expression taut with wrinkles around her eyes and pursed lips.
“You’re late,” she said.
“I’m not.” He slid into the empty side of the booth opposite her.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Why you’re so combative, for one.” He sighed and let a breath out the corner of his mouth.
“Thomas.”
