Benjamin stares up at me, head almost pressed to my bicep where my arm is propped up on the couch cushion. He keeps grinning like he’s never been this excited before. Those hazel eyes are boring into mine, and I think he’s trying to give off a casual vibe, but I can read him too well. His fingers keep twitching; his skin is flushed, sweat beading along his throat.
And theeyes. They’re staring up at me like I’m supposed to do something about it—as if they’re saying,okay, Aaron, now what are you going to do to me?I keep hearing his words in my head, a vicious record stuck on repeat.
“Do you remember, Aaron? Do you remember what you were begging me for when I had already given you all of me?”
He’s here to torture me, I’m sure of it. Because I don’tknowwhat I was begging for. At the time, I didn’t think I was in love with him or anything—not like I know now. Did I know? Maybe some part of me always has, and from the beginning I’ve looked at him like I’ll die without him.
And more importantly, he defended me. He got angry on my behalf and walked away. I’m not too sure why Drew thinks having hot, passionate sex autodrafts you into the pervert-rapist file, but his opinion doesn’t really matter to me anyway. As long as Benjamin knows that no matter how nasty it gets in the bedroom, I willalwaysrespect him. And Idolove him. I really do.
“Yes, Aaron, you’re allowed to touch me again.” He finally responds to my question now that his laughing fit is over. Drunk Benjamin is adorable.
“Okay, but does that mean right now, or whenever I want?” He rolls his eyes.
“Well, I think there are probably times where it isn’t appropriate. But all of the other times, then yes.” In his drunk, roundabout way, I can touch him freely again. The hand not propping me onto the couch moves to his hair, fingers weaving in and gliding from his forehead to as far back as the couch allows. Then I do it again.
Benjamin hums, eyes closing as I study his face, take it in. The soft curl of his lashes, the gentle puffs of air leaving his parted lips, the soft skin of his flushed cheeks. They’re all under my fingertips. Finally. Once again, my nerves ignite and wait so pitifully, waiting for my hands to touch every inch of his body just as they used to.
This is right—fuck, it’s so right. I’ve missed it. I miss him so much. He’s so beautiful. I want to tell him. Am I allowed to tell him? Instead, I say,
“Why doesn’t Drew call you Ravi anymore?” Benjamin’s eyes shoot open and snap to mine. I’m starting to think that was the wrong thing to say. I move my hand to his ear and massage his earlobe gently. His eyelids flutter, and he sighs—like we were fighting and I’ve won.
“When my dad left that day I went to help him up, trying to say sorry. Then he asked some questions and asked for space. During that time, he suddenly started calling me Benjamin, and never called me Ravi again.” He smiles sadly. “I guess I just couldn’t brighten his life anymore, not after that.”Aw, fuck.I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.
“Button—”
“Why do you call me that?” This startles a laugh from me, which makes him smile—even as a few tears fall. As I respond I wipe them away.
“You’re just now asking, huh?” I tsk. “Naughty.” He flushes red, giggling. “I call you Button because as we got older—I think I was around twelve—and everyone started to talk about how beautiful you were, the first thing I thought was,wow, what a cute little button nose. And the rest is history.”
Benjamin scrunches his nose, bringing a hand to it.
“Really? Hm. I guess that makes sense.” Dropping his hand, his eyes narrow. I can see the gears turning, his lips turning down. I run my thumb over the corner of his mouth, trying to gently pull it back up, but it doesn’t stay. “Aaron. I’ve had a thought.”
I can smell the liquor on his breath, can see it in his eyes and hear it in his honesty.
“Yeah? Okay, let’s hear it.” He briefly looks at my chest then back to my eyes, placing a hand on my waist, resting it there. I jump a little at the touch.
“That day, when my dad beat me and hit Drew. Drew was very upset, and even called me Benjamin, saying he needed space.” His eyes get wide; hand squeezing my waist almost painfully, which tells me he’s grounding himself. “He had just watched Ronnie beat me into the concrete, calling me a pansy for being his boyfriend, and he called me Benjamin and left me. Sure, he offered to drive me, but heleftme. Said he couldn’t help me.”
It’s like he’s just now realizing that even if Drew was scared and traumatized, it was still fucked up to ditch your abused boyfriend and not speak to him for weeks.
“Yeah.” My voice is soft as I wipe at tears where they fall.
“Then he waited weeks… even missed my birthday. I spent all that time wondering if he’d still want me, or if he’d leave me too. It wasn’t my fault, Aaron. I tried to stop him.”
“I know, baby, I know.” I’m brushing his hair back again, shushing him as he sniffles. I’ve decided I will kill Drew—first opportunity that allows.
“I know he’s not a bad guy. I saw it, felt it. Before all of this. I think it changed him. He tries—tries to be himself.But after my dad, and what I said to you that night… I don’t think he’s really moved on from it.”
There are so many things wrong with the entire situation, but the biggest error is that somehow the person who feels the most at fault is Benjamin. God, this is all so fucked.
Benjamin shoots up, sitting to stare straight into my eyes, our thighs touching.
“Aaron,” Benjamin says, like he’s had an epiphany. “You never would have done that.”
Now it’s my turn to sit up, making his head tilt up with me. We’re so close now that if I scoot forward my knee will press right into him—right against where I know he’d like it.
“What do you mean?” His eyes are calculating, searching mine; then he’s nodding.
