“I know—I’m sorry. I’m being pushy again. Thanks for listening to all my annoying ranting tonight and entertaining my late-night swimming.” I nod at him, watching as he places his palms on the concrete path outside of the pool, ready to pull himself up.
“Uh, want some help? You might be a bit too drunk for that.” He laughs awkwardly, turning toward me.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Trying to keep the world’s straightest, most not-turned-on face of all time, I grab Benjamin’s hips, watching as he grabs my wrists. The sight is one I’d like to capture and hang on my wall. He’s staring at me, so I focus on what I’m doing so as to not look up and make a mistake. With one big jump I pull him out of the water, sitting him down on the ledge—his legs on either side of me. Benjamin is not small in any way, but I can lift a lot, and his assistance with the jump gave extra momentum.
I release a breath, removing my hands from his hips and finally looking up at him. He’s gazing down at me settled between his legs in the water, and his expression shows that confusing disappointment. As I move to back away, I see right there on his right thigh—my mark. I stop, lifting a hand and gently running my fingers over it, feeling theindentations from my teeth.
I see visions of him coming undone on my fingers—how much I loved getting him off, smelling him, tasting him. I loved it to the point of coming in my pants just by rubbing my dick against him. Coming hard enough to dig my teeth so deep into Benjamin that he’ll never forget me. It was the second time that night I had dug my teeth into him.
“So… Drew refuses to go near this?” I ask, my voice hoarse. I’m trying to keep myself together, but I’m suddenly feeling emotional and I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“Yeah.”
Tracing the mark again, I softly say, “I’m the only one who’s ever touched you here.” When I look up to him again, he’s smiling. A gentle smile—like he’s amused or relieved. He runs a hand up my jaw, to the back of my neck, a little down my back.
“Yes.” I drop my head onto his knee.
“Ahh.” The heat of his body is sinking into mine, and I’m acutely aware that a cold shower will not be enough. “You haven’t done anything wrong—not yet. You should go to bed; call him in the morning and sort it all out.” The night is quiet, and I don’t have to lift my head to see his disappointment.
“Okay.” As he moves to stand, I grab his thigh, holding him in place—making his breath hitch. Lifting my head, I set my weary eyes on his curious ones.
“Benjamin, I may not be able to teach you anymore lessons, but I can give you a command and hope you’re still the good boy I know you are.” Benjamin nods, eyes wide; his thigh twitching in my hand. “Do not let him touch this.” I trace the mark again. “Even if he wants to—decides that he does wanteveryinch of you—he can’t have it. At least this—this is mine.” I half expect him to push me away, to call me crazy like he did when we first started screwing around. But instead, he grins, nodding once more and standing to his feet.
“Don’t worry, Aaron. I may like causing trouble, but I’ll always be a good boy.” He grabs his clothes and slips back inside.
The night air is warm and dry. The Arizona heat hardly ever leaves us. I lay on my back in the water, floating there as I stare at the stars. I’m not quite sure what happened tonight, but I do know that Benjamin doesn’t hate me. And he may think Drew is a good guy at heart, but I see him for what he is. Benjamin is smart—he’ll see it eventually. And I’ll be here for him when he figures it out.
Benjamin turns eighteen in two months. Then, there’s only one obstacle in the way. And maybe… maybe we could work that one out after all.
???
The next morning Mom and Dad come home early, having given us the house for the night the same way they did last year. Mom makes a big breakfast spread, and it’s much appreciated by us hungover folk. Amber is crying about her head, and Mom is babying her—which is completely unfair and definitely favoritism.
Felix is lying on the floor of the den, letting Kayla rub his back. She came to the rescue early this morning, keeping any of us from having to take care of princess Felix and his tummy ache. Benjamin and I are sitting on the couch, heads tilted back, cold rags over our eyes.
“I blame you, Aaron. You’re the adult.” I scoff.
“When I can see again, I’m flicking you.”
“Flick me and die, motherfucker.” He’s laughing but trying not to—most likely because his head is pounding the same as mine. I probably shouldn’t have stayed up drinking after everyone else went to bed.
“Let’s gang up on him.” Felix suggests from his spot on the floor, voice muffled by the carpet.
“I agree—let’s.” Amber says, coming in and falling onto what sounds like the recliner.
“You siren, you’re the adult too.” She doesn’t respond, but I imagine she’s shrugging her shoulders and picking at her nails like she couldn’t care less.
“Ugh, Aaron. I need orange juice.” Benjamin groans. I can feel the heat coming off of his arm that rests centimeters away from mine.
“What am I—the OJ guy?”
“Yes.” He says quickly.
“Alright, Button. I’ll get your damn orange juice.” I pull the rag off of my eyes, letting them adjust to the light and waiting for my head to stop pounding from the movement.
“You’re a god. Thanks.” Funny, Benjamin. Real cute.
