I help the bike fight against the resistance his arm is giving, fingers interlocked with his against my stomach. Then—most likely because the pressure wore him out—Benjamin pulls his arm back in. I expect him to clasp it back with his other hand but before I can untangle mine, his right hand slips under my shirt. I can feel my body tense—my nipples hardening, goosebumps rising everywhere from the cold as the wind-bitten skin of his fingers and palm slide over my abs.
They’re so soft, so slow. Curious—like they’ve never been here before, never touched.
Have they? Did I ever give him the chance? I’m so obsessed with feeling him—tasting him,hearinghim—that there’s a good chance I never did.
Slowly his fingertips graze a nipple—palm gliding across my pec and to the other side of my waist, touching the bandage there. Benjamin stops, lightly resting on top of it with just enough pressure to acknowledge it, to reclaim it. Then—his palm moves right over my heart, where it sinks down into my skin and stays for the rest of the ride—memorizing the tempo at which it beats for him.
After a thirty-minute ride I find a big field of grass off the side of the road and pull off into it. We’re on a back road so I doubt it’s claimed, and it looks overgrown enough. I stop and kill the engine—letting Benjamin swing off, then I prop the bike on the stand anddismount as well.
He waits for me to remove my helmet for him and when I pull it off his hair is a mess. It makes him look that much sweeter—that much more like the Benjamin I know, the one who grew with me, the one I tore apart.
I place the helmet on my seat and stare at the clouds in the sky for a moment. It’s a quiet day.
“So—what did you think?” Benjamin grins at me, stomping around on the mid-shin-length grass to flatten it.
“I liked it. It was fun. The turns are a bit scary, though.” He’s so fucking cute I want to punch something.
I’m happy he liked his ride and I hate to kill the mood—but he said to ask him tomorrow and I’m dying to know.
“Button—what were you talking about last night? The cycle thing?” Benjamin sighs as if he was anticipating this question, dropping to sit on the flattened grass with his knees pulled up. I copy him—head-to-toe so I can see his face.
“I was hoping you’d forget.”
“Ha. Fat chance, buddy.” He rolls his eyes at me and I blindly fuck with his shoelaces.
“Yeah, yeah. Well—I don’t know. I started going through this cycle of emotions when I’d get triggered. I’d start by accepting whatever happened. So example: Drew dumping me.” He swallows thickly, looking away from me and playing with the grass by my feet. “Then I tend to dissociate pretty badly. I don’t know how I left Drew’s or how I got to your apartment. I don’t even remember going inside. I just remember I was suddenly looking at your door and I thought of you. And then bam—like magic there you were right in front of me.”
“That’s… scary. You didn’t seem very happy to see me, though.” He looked very sad to see me actually, and it made me feel like shit.
I thought maybe he blamed me.
“Yeah, sorry. I knew it was wrong—even in the moment—but every time I looked at the both of you, it just reminded me of how alone I am in this world.”
My heart stutters—as if it’s debating whether or not it should keep going. Keep pumping blood—keep me alive.
“Normally after that stage,” He continues. “I get really calm. I’m very spacey and understanding—rationalizing the best way I can. As if I’m laying the groundwork for what’s to come. I think some part of me is trying to clear the room. Trying to lessen the casualties.”
“Absolute fall out.” I offer—and Benjamin looks at me again, a sad smile on his beautiful, delicious lips.
“Yeah, Aaron. Absolute fall out. You saw it once before. When I was screaming at you and Felix—pissed that you guys wouldn’t let me kill myself. Pissed that my dad was who he was. Pissed that Drew left me to wash the blood off all alone.”
I grab his calf and hold onto him tightly—telling him I’m here and I’m listening and I’d never leave him to wash the blood off all alone.
“I was going to run that night. I saw Felix’s face and it sucked the anger right out of me. I could feel the sadness. I could feel the itch growing and growing. It was so loud I thought I was going to explode.” He sighs as if he’s recalling something unfortunate. “But your parents were there. I was trapped. So I begged you to help me. To make it go away.”
Benjamin looks away from me again—down at his own hands where he picks at his fingers.
“Why me? Why not Felix?” He shakes his head, frowning.
“You know—Drew asked me that too. He said,of the four people in the room—while you were upset the only person you could turn to was the guy you used to fuck? And it does sound ridiculous, doesn’t it?” I shake my head—but I guess my opinion is rather biased. “I don’t know why. I just know that when everything was so loud that I couldn’t comprehend a logical thought—and I itched so badly to leave—when I thought I was going to hyperventilate and die right there, in my mind you were the only one there who could fixit.”
“Button…” It’s a whisper, so soft and pleading. I can feel the sadness, the joy, the desire and sorrow all mixing and circling in my bloodstream.
“I didn’t know how you’d do it—I just believed you would. And sure enough,” When his eyes finally find mine again, they’re full of tears. “When the last part came—the worst part—it just really wasn’t that bad.” Fuck this.
“Benjamin—I—”
“Don’t say something you don’t mean. Don’t do that to me.”
