“No. Other than a few punches, they didn’t even rough me up,” Ben said. “I’ll have some bruises, but it’s nothing ice and ibuprofen can’t handle, and I really don’t want to deal with the paperwork and questions.”
Even though the police were on their side this time, Erik knew that Ben’s story would get all the wrong kind of attention. They couldn’t afford to have the story leak to the media, and even though Cape May didn’t have an aggressive press corps, any story with mafia connections got top coverage.
“Okay, for now. If anything changes, come up with a cover story, and I’ll take you to see a doctor,” Erik said.
Ben hesitated, then relented. “I’ll let you know if I think that’s necessary.”
Erik knew that their previous jobs both came with a fair amount of physical danger and had a culture of pushing through the pain. Now that they were making their own rules, he was done with foregoing necessary treatment to look tough.
As soon as they were inside and the alarms were on, Erik turned Ben under the light so he could look for injuries.
“Erik, I’m all right.” Ben had a look in his eyes that said he understood the desperate worry beneath the fussing.
Erik pulled Ben into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Ben’s neck.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” Erik confessed. “When Haley said your ghost friend showed up, I was afraid I already had. God, Ben, I was so scared.”
“So was I.” Ben made no move to free himself from Erik’s arms. “I knew they intended to kill both of us, whether you brought the window or not. I couldn’t get loose. I thought we might have finally run out of luck.”
Erik pushed back enough to see the aftermath of emotions in his eyes. He kissed him long and deep, proof of life.
“You’re soaking wet,” Ben said, as if noticing for the first time.
“Price of admission tonight.” Erik’s voice came out rough. “Let’s get you in the shower and changed out of those clothes. You smell like mobster.”
“What is it with those guys and aftershave?” Ben replied in a shaky attempt at humor.
“Better than herring and onions, like Bratva,” Erik quipped. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
The shower wasn’t quite big enough for both of them. Erik helped Ben undress, silently cataloging every bruise and scratch, then stripped down himself. He put extra towels on the floor and gently pushed Ben under the water once it was warm but not hot.
“Let me take care of you.” He took his time soaping Ben’s arms and torso for the excuse to run his hands all over, assuring him that his lover was safe and alive. He took special care with Ben’s shoulders and upper arms, where he had been tied, expecting bruises the next day from the ropes.
The familiar herbal smell of shampoo and soap soothed both of them. Erik slicked his hands again and worked down over Ben’s ass and legs, before reaching between for his taint and balls, then around to stroke his cock.
“Tell me what you want.” Erik knew from experience that danger and its aftermath could either stoke hunger or kill desire.
“You, touching me. I want to feel you,” Ben said. “I want to know we’re both alive.”
Erik leaned in to kiss Ben’s shoulder. One hand wrapped around Ben’s cock, and the other slipped between his legs. “Don’t think. Just feel.”
Ben thickened under his touch, and Erik felt himself get stiff, despite the night’s emotional roller coaster. He doubted it would take long for either of them, but the release would help them both wind down.
Ben braced himself against the shower wall. Erik stepped closer and slotted his own prick between Ben’s ass cheeks, not trying to penetrate but using them for friction as his strokes matched his hand’s movement.
“Let go,” he murmured. “Let it all go.”
Ben shot hard against the tile wall. Erik came seconds later, painting Ben’s back with white stripes. He clung to Ben for a moment until he was sure neither of them had gone weak in the knees, then soaped Ben down again and wiped off the wall.
“Let’s get into dry clothes.” Erik wrapped Ben in a towel and made sure they hadn’t left puddles on the floor. Erik dried him and helped him into a soft T-shirt and sleep shorts before toweling off and grabbing a pair of soft flannel pants.
“You’ve missed a couple of meals,” Erik pointed out. “Are you hungry? Or should I ask, can you eat?”
Ben shook his head. “I probably should, but I’m not sure anything would stay down right now, even water.”
Erik felt the same way, even though he had forced himself to eat a sandwich earlier. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”
They made their way to the bedroom, and Erik drew Ben under the covers. Sated from the encounter in the shower and exhausted from the day, Erik was happy just to hold Ben close and listen to him breathe.
