“Right.” Ben grabbed at Alexei’s hips and Alexei pushed back, wanting to get closer to Ben somehow, as close as possible.
“Well, she was correct, as she usually is,” Ben said as he reached for his side table, pulling out a condom and lube. “Of course I’m in love with you.”
He dropped a kiss on Alexei’s shoulder after he said it, and Alexei released a small whimper, emotion battering around his rib cage like a bird caught inside an attic. He found himself unable to form words, or do anything at all, other than hope Ben understood how much he needed him inside him right now, hard and fast and honest.
He must have, because soon Alexei felt Ben’s fingers move to grip his hips, and he was easing himself in, and Alexei was ready for him. Wanted those fingers to bruise him.
“Yes, Ben,” he heard his lips saying. “Yes, God, please.”
It was urgent and inelegant, all muscle and sweat, and after a few brutal thrusts Ben managed to ask, “Are you okay, is this okay,” and Alexei immediately moaned back, “Perfect, it’s perfect.”
Because Alexei didn’t know if he could handle tenderness right now. His heart already felt tender enough on its own. He wanted this, the sensation of being almost out of control, of oblivion.
“Lex, I’m close already, God, I hope that’s okay,fuck,” Ben said, readjusting his grip, his rhythm growing erratic.
“Me too.” Alexei twisted Ben’s sheets in one of his hands, panting, imminent release making black hover at the edges of his vision.
He wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, how exactly he had evolved from the swipe-rights—nervous, timid, awkward—to this, this type of rough, physical carnality, unfettered and slightly unhinged. But ever since he had started dancing tonight, since he had let himself fall into this world of the Caravalhos, so different yet so comforting all at once, a world of affection and laughter and unquestioning acceptance, Alexei had felt something shift inside him. Like he was examining the contours of a new body he was so close to sliding into, a life he had never seen fully before because it had always been held just outside his field of vision.
And that Alexei loved every second of this.
Soon, Ben was groaning, shuddering, falling over Alexei’s back, and when Alexei came, all he could think of was Ben’s voice saying,Of course I’m in love with you, and it felt like falling headlong into an infinite space filled with sparks, bright and close enough to burn.
After they had caught their breath, a crowded tangle of limbs on the small bed, Alexei felt like saying it back, over and over, into Ben’s skin:I love you I love you I love you.
He felt like saying,Please don’t ever leave me.
Instead, what Alexei heard himself say was: “I came all over your sheets.”
Ben hummed and nuzzled into his neck.
“I’ll do laundry tomorrow,” he murmured. “Another benefit of the basement.”
He wrapped his arm around Alexei’s stomach a little tighter.
“Fuck, that was hot, Lex.”
“It was perfect,” Alexei said again, at least one truth he was able to articulate, and maybe one truth for the night was enough.
Neither of them moved to stand, or pull the sheets over themselves, or fix the mess they had made. Alexei knew they needed to do all those things. But for a moment, he let himself indulge in it: wrung-out and happy in the dark, sticky stillness.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ben!” Dahlia Woodson extended her hand. “It is so good to finally meet you!”
Dahlia was very short and very pretty, with a huge pile of dark hair swept onto the top of her head. She had moved to town during the hectic time period when Ben was swept up in the NCLEX and then PCT preparations, and they’d never been able to meet up. She smiled with her whole face, and Ben liked her immediately.
“Ben, you magnificent asshole.” Khalil hugged him with a hearty back thump. “And hello, magnificent asshole’s companion.”
Alexei met Khalil’s handshake with a tiny, adorable smile. “Alexei.”
More introductions were made all around until finally they were seated: Julie, London and Dahlia, Laynie Rose, Khalil and Reina. And, wonderfully, Alexei.
A waiter filled their glasses with water while another handed out menus. The atmosphere of the restaurant was sunny, full of floor-to-ceiling windows, green plants hanging from the walls, silver fans whirring above, everything open and bright and clean. It all matched Ben’s disposition rather pleasantly.
And if Ben wasn’t mistaken, it matched Alexei’s, too. He had handled the loud, rapid round of introductions with aplomb, his shoulders relaxed, his smiles small but easy.
Ben opened his menu with one hand, reaching down to squeeze Alexei’s hand with the other.
