Page 115 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Relief washed through Gavin when Ben finished his sentence so plainly for him. “Right. Or topped, for that matter.” Gavin bit his lip and watched Ben’s face, trying to read his expressions. He didn’t have much luck because Ben simply looked at him, as if he’d forgotten where they were headed and was trying to remember.

Ben

Well. If he hadn’t felt like a dirty old man before, he would now. “Okay,” Ben whispered roughly. He knew there was probably a better response, but he couldn’t think beyond the one simple word. He searched his memory, going over the mental list of his first sexual experiences. Not the actual first, because that was painful and awkward and unsatisfying. Two bumbling teens, groping and rutting against each other. No lube, no condoms, and no clue.

But later—years later—it had gotten better. Ben had found different men in every corner of the country. Teachers, lovers, friends. He learned his own body, learned what he liked and what he didn’t like, what he could put up with for someone, and what he absolutely couldn’t be bothered to do.

Leaning closer, Ben brushed a kiss against Gavin’s mouth as he trailed his hand lower and wrapped his fingers around Gavin’s cock with a slow stroke. “We’re not gonna do anything you don’t wanna do tonight, all right?”

Gavin inhaled against his mouth and then dropped his head to the pillow. “I know,” he whispered. His bright blue eyes only held trust as he looked at Ben, and wasn’t that enough to tip things over the edge?

“I didn’t say I don’t want to. I just thought you should know.”

Ben nodded as he stroked Gavin’s cock in a loose grip, trailing his thumb over the slick crown until Gavin gasped.

“You should probably stop that, though.”

Gavin dropped his hand to cover Ben’s, and Ben nearly laughed even as he leaned in for another kiss. “I’ll take care of you.” His words were a whispered promise, and if Gavin was paying attention—and the kid seemed like he was always paying attention—he hopefully understood everything Ben meant. Taking care of Gavin was all he wanted to do. Not just tonight, not just in bed. He wanted Gavin someplace safe and well-fed, someplace he could call home.

When Gavin gave him a tentative smile, slipped his free hand over Ben’s shoulder and pulled him closer, Ben brushed his lips against Gavin’s neck and inhaled deeply.

“You’ve been taking care of me since the first night we met.” Gavin’s words were barely audible, hesitant, as if he was connecting the dots in his head, puzzling out an answer he was afraid of—or maybe afraid to hope for.

“When you let me,” Ben countered. He hoped the tease was clear in his tone. Gavin didn’t make things easy for him on any level. Even when he really needed something, Gavin would often reject it outright when it was offered. More than once, Ben had to insist and leave no room for arguments. “So let me take care of you tonight.” He punctuated the words with one more steady stroke over Gavin’s cock before letting go.

Gavin let out a shaky breath and nodded. His skin flushed beautifully as Ben reached for the lube and slicked his fingers.

“It’ll hurt,” Ben whispered, kissing Gavin again. “I can’t take that away, but I can make it easier.”

“I know,” Gavin told him, letting out a small gasp as Ben slid his finger against the tight ring of muscle, pushing in and pulling out in slow, easy motions. “I’m not totally clueless, just…” His voice caught on another sharp breath, almost a laugh, as he went on. “Just new.”

Ben took his time. He watched every small expression flit across Gavin’s face, watched the way Gavin’s muscles pulled and twitched all over his lithe body. He couldn’t remember ever using so much lube on a guy, but every time he thought Gavin might be ready, he decided to wait a little longer.

Maybe, if he were honest with himself, he was just scared shitless.

By the time Gavin looked ready to fly apart, Ben had decided to just get him off like that—fingers, tongue, mouth. He figured he could push Gavin over the edge with nothing more than a quick stroke over the head of Gavin’s cock. His own erection ached to be inside Gavin, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. At least, he didn’t think he could. But when Gavin whimpered his name and muttered a simple please, Ben didn’t have much of a choice.

He nearly fumbled the condom more than once, could barely get the damn thing open with his shaking hands, but he finally managed to get it on. Then he froze. Gavin stared at him with his bright, trusting eyes. A look of impatience mingled with something close to terror in his expression, but he reached for Ben anyway.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Ben closed himself around Gavin. He knew he should turn him over, get him into an easier position, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. All he wanted was to hold Gavin, watch his face when he came, see if he could read Gavin’s thoughts, sense his needs.

And wasn’t that a ridiculous idea? Being with Gavin was going to turn him into a mind reader?

And a poet, apparently. Because this? Touching the head of his cock against Gavin’s entrance, pushing in and pulling back when he gasped, Gavin’s skin flushing so prettily, his eyes widening, his muscles tensing and then easing so Ben could push in again. It deserved a fucking sonnet. A love song.

Burying himself deep inside Gavin felt like a goddamn masterpiece in the making.

Gavin

Gavin had been so close to the edge before Ben even got the condom on he’d expected it to be a little… less painful? He’d at least thought it would be easy, if not the best feeling of his life.

He was wrong, at least at first.

Ben’s tenderness and achingly slow motions were an unintentional torture. There came a point where—fully committed and unwilling to say, “Never mind, just kidding!”—all Gavin wanted was to get it over with. He wanted Ben to move faster, harder against him. If he couldn’t get off tonight, maybe Ben could, at least. Maybe if they hurried it along, Gavin could go take a warm shower and then sit on an ice pack until the morning came. Then he could tuck his bruised ego away with his bruised ass and go back to blowjobs.

“You okay?” Ben’s voice teetered on anguish, but he managed the words. “Need me to go slower, baby?”

Baby. God. Gavin did love that. Ben usually reserved that one for when he was especially drunk and they were talking on the phone in the middle of the night. Or, once, only a couple of months earlier when Gavin had turned up on his doorstep, shivering, crying. He’d been to see his mom, tried again to get her to even look at him. That had ended like most things with his mother ended: badly. Ben had been the only person in the world he’d felt like seeing that night. Thankfully, he had opened his door and then pulled Gavin in for a warm, tight hug.

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