Benji made a thoughtful noise. It sounded troubled.
Noah leaned over to the nightstand, picking up the balm. “This doesn’t look used.”
Benji twisted to look. “I don’t need it. I feel fine. Mostly.”
“Can I see?”
Benji winced. “I seriously can’t do anything right now.”
“I know, baby.” Noah unscrewed the lid. “I just want to take care of you. Gonna let me?”
Benji hesitated. Then he sat up, shedding the duvet and letting Noah maneuver him so he was lying across his lap. He was wearing boxers. Noah tugged them down, holding his breath as he took in the sight: Benji’s right asscheek was decorated with yellow bruises. In a day or two, his skin would be pink andperfect. But until then, he had the constant reminder of what Noah did.
Noah’s cock twitched in his slacks. He ignored it and scooped up a smear of balm, smoothing it over Benji’s bruised asscheek.
Benji’s breath hitched.
“Sorry,” Noah told him.
Benji shook his head. His eyes were closed, eyelids shuddering as Noah rubbed slow circles into the abused skin. Noah watched him, trying to sense how deep his discomfort was. Benji was panting quietly, just like he did when Noah examined the bite marks he’d left on Benji’s body. Maybe his boy liked the throb, even if he didn’t like the spanking itself. Noah would have to ask later.
“How are you feeling?”
Benji made a noise against the duvet.
“Benjamin? I need your words.”
“Fine,” Benji said. He coughed weakly. “I mean. Like shit. But… better.”
“Good.” Noah dipped his fingers into the balm again. Benji shivered at the next touch, and Noah looked over and watched his eyelids flutter. He could feel Benji’s cock harden against his leg, though he didn’t think Benji was alert enough to notice.
Benji was boneless in his lap when he finally spoke up again. “All of me, huh?”
“Yeah.” Noah eased his boxers up and lay down behind him, pulling him close. “That okay with you?”
Benji hummed sleepily. “We’ll see.”
CHAPTER 11
Noah came over every day.
Armed with broth, with cough syrup, with cold compresses, and manuka honey, and backrubs when Max was at school or messing around in the hotel pool. One day, Benji woke up from a feverish nap to find Max and Noah sitting across from each other on his giant bed, balancing a game of Connect Four on the mattress.
“Wassappening,” Benji slurred.
Max beamed at him. “I’m kicking his ass!”
Benji squinted groggily up at Noah. He hadn’t been there an hour ago when Benji dragged himself out of bed to use the bathroom. Now here he was, dressed in a full suit, sitting cross-legged on Benji’s bed and trying to look grave.
“It’s two out of three,” Noah said. “I still have time.”
“Youwish,” Max said, then slotted another coin into the board.
Benji lay there, listening to Noah act sad over his defeat, swearing that he hadn't let Max win. He had a bag of Benji’s favorite Chinese takeout next to him, warm and steaming.
“Benji,” Max said as they were setting up for a rematch. “Noah says I can go into one of his manufacturing labs sometimeand see how they make kitchen stuff! They have robots that paint the bowls! I’d meet a real live robot!”
“Not alive,” Benji muttered, heart squeezing worriedly in his chest. He pawed at Noah’s socked foot. “Noah?—”
