Apparently, that was more than enough for Ben, who surged forward and caught his lips without another second of hesitation. Sam grunted at the impact, and then leaned into it, grabbing fistfuls of Ben’s t-shirt to hold himself steady, hold Ben in place.
Ben still smelled of chocolate, and warmth, and tasted like orange juice, and felt so solid and real against him that it brought tears to Sam’s eyes. His heart soared as he whimpered into Ben’s mouth, torn between demanding more and telling him how good this felt.
Sam grabbed the hem of Ben’s t-shirt, hitching it up, splaying his fingers over the skin of his stomach. He hadn’t touched Ben nearly enough yet. He wanted more.
To his surprise, Ben moved his own hands to Sam’s sides, squeezing him gently, his thumbs sinking deep into the flesh. On one side, his fingers pressed into pristine, smooth skin.
On the other side, scar tissue. There was no way Ben couldn’t feel it, but he didn’t change his grip. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t back off to apologize, which would have been understandable, but still devastating.
He just kept touching Sam as though he wanted to touch him.
Why had he ever even bothered with anyone who wasn’t Ben? Ben was easily the most perfect man in the world.
“You can take that off, if you want,” Ben murmured against Sam’s lips. “No pressure.”
Sam chuckled and lifted the hem of the shirt again, not needing to be told twice. He hated to let go of Ben’s mouth, but the payoff would be worth it.
He tugged the t-shirt off over Ben’s head and tossed it aside, pausing for a moment to look at him from the front this time. Unable to stop himself, Sam reached out to touch, brushing his thumb over one of Ben’s nipples and watching it harden under his touch.
“You’ve come a long way from the cute skinny little nerd I used to know,” Sam said. “How come no one scooped you up?”
Ben wet his lips. “I guess I knew who I wanted,” he said softly. “And he wasn’t around, so…”
“He’s around now,” Sam murmured. “Assuming you’re talking about me, I mean.”
Ben nodded. “I am. You’re everything I ever wanted.”
Sam’s heart leapt in his chest, leaving him breathless for a moment. Ben wanted him. Ben had always wanted him.
This was all starting to feel as though it was worth it.
He leaned in again to claim Ben’s lips, settling his hands on Ben’s newly-bare waist to hold him in place, keep him here as long as possible. If this was all he got, he’d be happy.
That didn’t stop him from wanting more.
With a surge of confidence, Sam pressed forward, backing Ben up toward the bed and not stopping until Ben was forced to sit on the mattress. Sam climbed onto his lap before Ben had a chance to react, nibbling on his lip, pressing his erection up against his stomach.
Without breaking the kiss this time, he reached down to tug Ben’s pants open, making a soft, happy noise as he found Ben hard as well. Arousal curled low in his gut as he shoved his hand into Ben’s pants to stroke him through the fabric of his underwear.
Ben squirmed under him, low, needy noises catching in his throat as Sam pushed his underwear aside and freed his cock. It was thicker than Sam had been expecting, the dark head already shining with precome. Wetting his lips, he took it in his hand and wrapped his fingers around it, listening for the soft grunt of pleasure in response.
Sam closed his eyes, taking in the velvety-soft skin under his fingers, giving a few quick tugs that made Ben’s breath hitch. Ben whimpered as Sam took his hand away again, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of Sam’s thighs, a silent plea for more.
“Patience,” Sam murmured. “Is this… have you ever, umm…?”
“Not with a man,” Ben said, his voice rough with arousal, catching on every other syllable. “And not for a while, either.”
“You know how it’s done?” Sam asked, reaching out for the basket of lube and condoms that was still sitting beside the bed from the first day. He was glad now that he’d been too lazy to move them back to the bathroom.
“In principle,” Ben said. “I don’t know if you should trust me to-”
Sam stopped him mid-sentence by shoving one of the miniature tubes of lubricant into his hand. “I trust you,” he murmured. “You’re patient, your nails are short, and you’ll listen to me if I tell you to stop.”
“Okay,” Ben said, dropping his gaze to the lube. Sam watched him pour a generous bead out onto his fingers, licking his lips. He’d wanted this a thousand times, and now he was finally getting it.
A tight knot of anticipation built in Sam’s stomach as Ben warmed the lube between his fingers. He shuffled back a little to give Ben easier access, spreading his legs a little wider. This was an awkward position, but he couldn’t bring himself to lose the contact he had right now.
Sam never wanted to let go of Ben again. Not now that they were finally doing this.
