Page 112 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Awesome. Being the brilliant man he was, Ben had taken a bad idea and turned it into the worst possible plan ever. Gavin clung to him as they cruised down the city streets, up the hills, and through the alleys. He held his birthday present in his hand, pressed tightly against Ben’s chest, as if he couldn’t part with it even long enough to ride home. Well, back to Ben’s place, at least.

Ben kept trying to tell himself that this was no different from the other few nights he’d let Gavin sleep over when he had nowhere else to go. He’d put a blanket and pillow on the couch for Gavin. He’d sit up for an hour or two and talk with him until Gavin was sleepy enough, comfortable enough, to nod off. He’d go to his own bed and jerk off, thinking about Gavin; then he’d feel like a perv and a shitty friend, and then he’d fall asleep too. In the morning, he’d make some coffee and run down to the diner around the corner to pick up some breakfast for them just to make sure Gavin got some food in him. Ben wasn’t sure, but he had the feeling Gavin didn’t eat nearly often enough. He pictured the kid living on ramen noodles and stale chips from vending machines. He hoped he was wrong, but the few times he’d seen Gavin with his shirt off, Ben had been able to count his ribs.

When Gavin tightened his arms and tensed behind him, Ben realized how fast he was going and eased off the throttle. He’d been so lost in his own head he nearly missed the turn for his apartment and pulled up with a slightly reckless skid in front of the building. Gavin didn’t let go when he cut the engine, but that might’ve been because he was terrified.

“You should definitely invest in a second helmet.”

Laughing, Ben gently moved Gavin’s hands and untangled himself from him. “I have another helmet, remember? I just didn’t expect company tonight.” His laughter died when he saw Gavin’s eyes. He looked like a deer staring down the barrel of a shotgun. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah, well, near-death experiences will do that to me.”

Ben reached his hand to unbuckle the strap on the helmet and tugged it off for him. “You were nowhere near death, I promise.”

Gavin moved stiffly as he got to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on Ben’s shoulder as he awkwardly climbed off the bike. “Tell that to my bladder. I nearly pissed myself on that last turn.”

With another bark of laughter, unintentional but unstoppable, Ben took Gavin’s hand and led him to the stairs.

Gavin

The first time Gavin had been in Ben’s apartment, he’d been surprised. He’d expected to see beer bottles and pizza boxes all over the living room, milk crates for end tables, a ratty sofa. He didn’t know why he thought Ben would live like a poor frat boy, but he did. Instead, he found a tidy, comfortable home. A leather couch and overstuffed chair took up most of the living room, and framed photos hung on the wall and sat on shelves with all kinds of different books. Art books, history books, high fantasy novels. Ben was one of the only people he knew who still had real paper books. Not to mention the hundreds of digital copies he kept on his phone. Gavin’s favorite, though, was the leather-bound portfolio of all of Ben’s work.

Without any further invitation, Gavin set the catalog and his birthday present down, picked up the portfolio, and started flipping through the pages.

“There’s nothing new in there,” Ben told him as he put on some music, something quiet and slow, relaxing. “Haven’t added anything in a couple months. The book down at the shop has a few, though.”

Gavin had never been to Ben’s shop. He felt enough like a puppy following him around; he didn’t need to show up at Ben’s job uninvited. “I still like to look.”

Ducking his head around the corner from the kitchen, Ben said, “Suit yourself. You hungry?”

“Nah, Tony took me to dinner, and Steph bought me lunch.” After looking at his favorites in the portfolio, Gavin set it back down on the coffee table. “Birthdays are great for free food,” he added before going over to the fireplace to look at the pictures on the mantel. He’d seen them all before, but one stood out this time. He wasn’t sure if he’d never noticed it or if it was new. Two men, wrapped around each other, smiled happily under the glass. “Hey, who are these guys?” he asked.

Ben came up behind him, not quite touching but close enough to radiate heat. Ben’s breath tickled his skin as he leaned over Gavin’s shoulder and looked at the photograph. “My ex and his husband.”

“You guys are still friends?”

“Yeah. Hell, he’s one of my best friends.”

“Why’d you two break up?”

“He wanted… more,” Ben said with a shrug, adding, “I wanted a good time.”

“Can’t you have both?”

“You can, but I didn’t know that at the time. I was young when we got together.”

“How young?”

Ben snorted a laugh. “Twenty-two.”

“That’s not that young.”

“Not when you’re eighteen, but now… it’s young.”

Gavin turned and was surprised when Ben didn’t pull back. He looked long and hard at Ben’s face, the laugh lines around his eyes, the few gray hairs in his stubble and shaggy brown hair. “How old are you, anyway?”

Ben leaned closer and dipped his head. Almost close enough to kiss Gavin, but he didn’t. He whispered, “You’ve never asked me that before.”

“I’m asking now.”

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