Page 116 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

But wait. Slower? God no.

With his jaw clenched tight, grinding his teeth together, it was hard to get the words out. “Need more, Ben. Please.”

If it was ever going to end, he needed more. Didn’t actually want more, but he couldn’t tell Ben that.

Gavin closed his eyes when Ben growled against his neck and thrust in deep and hard. Pain shot through him again, his body tensed, and he held his breath. Then Ben shifted his weight, pushed Gavin’s legs farther back, and drove in with one steady push, and everything changed.

Every move Ben made seemed to wake up a different nerve ending in Gavin. In a good way, surprisingly enough. Where the pain had seemed endless, the fullness too much to take, all of a sudden, it was all he wanted. His body was alive for what felt like the first time, pulsing with sparks of heat that chased down his spine, lit up his fingers, his toes. His balls tightened, and his cock started to take an interest again. Which Gavin had thought was a thing of the past. A moment earlier, he didn’t think he’d ever get hard again. Now, as Ben built a heavy rhythm, as his breath beat against Gavin’s skin, as their bodies grew hot and slick with sweat, Gavin started to wonder why the hell he’d thought this was a bad idea.

Ben pulled back again, catching Gavin’s eye when Gavin looked at him. “Better?” he asked, and Gavin couldn’t even nod, couldn’t say a word. All that came out was a sharp grunt when Ben thrust into him again. He bit his lips between his teeth and moaned into his closed mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Ben whispered, staying just as he was, grinding his hips in quick, short strokes.

Gavin reached a hand up to Ben’s shoulder. He splayed his pale fingers against the patterns, the story of Ben’s life, and it seemed perfect, a different kind of art. Like Gavin could blend in there, weave himself into Ben’s rich history, his colorful world.

Another harsh groan slipped from Ben’s mouth with another heavy thrust, and Gavin lost track of everything else. When Ben said, “Stroke yourself,” in his rough, deep voice, Gavin didn’t have to think. He simply dropped his hand from Ben’s shoulder and wrapped his fingers around his cock. Ben’s brow furrowed, and he muttered something that sounded a lot like so fucking beautiful, and then they were both climbing higher, getting closer to the edge together.

Only a few minutes passed before Gavin’s world narrowed to the porn-worthy sound of skin slapping on skin. Their bodies hot and slick, their voices raising in gasps and moans, until finally, Ben drove in just hard enough in just the right spot at just the right second. Gavin grazed his thumb over the head of his cock, and he was coming between them, spilling out white heat as he muttered Ben’s name.

Maybe that was what Ben had been waiting for. Gavin thought so, because as his body thrummed with release, as he shuddered through it, Ben offered one last heavy thrust, and then he stilled. His face froze for a moment, his voice sounding harsh, ruined as he cried out and then, finally, collapsed on Gavin.

The weight of Ben’s body was more comforting than he’d expected, and the hot rush of Ben’s breath against his ear sent another shudder through Gavin. Then he heard, “Christ, I love you.”

Gavin’s eyes flew open in surprise. Ben was wrapped around him, holding him tight, still inside him. Gavin looked up at the ceiling, the room framed against Ben’s shoulder. For a moment, he tried to decide if Ben had actually said it or if he’d imagined it. The whole night was starting to feel like some kind of dark magic, a gift from ancient gods to make up for a shitty life. Then, after a few more seconds passed and Gavin decided it might be real, he tried to decide if he should say anything. He’d been in love with Ben since the first time Ben smiled at him, but he’d never admitted it to anyone. The idea alone made him feel like he was too young to throw the word around.

Thankfully, Ben didn’t seem to need a response. Or maybe he was trying to pretend he’d never said anything because when he pulled back, he looked at Gavin like he always did. His brown eyes were lit up with tenderness, his smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and then he leaned in and kissed Gavin soundly before he slowly pulled out.

Ben

Maybe Gavin hadn’t heard him. And that was probably for the best, right? Because, seriously, I’m coming and oh-by-the-way-I-love-you is kind of ridiculous. Who does that? He hadn’t meant to say it, but once the words were out, part of him had been relieved. The rest of him was in a cold panic, sure, but there was one small fragment that was glad he’d finally let it out. Gavin had been chasing him for a full year now, and Ben was ready to be caught.

Despite how absurd the idea of them together was.

He made quick work of the cleanup without saying anything else, and when he had finished, he tucked Gavin up against him, covered them both, and reached for the lamp. Maybe he just needed a good night’s sleep to clear his head and let this thing go.

“Don’t,” Gavin said quietly, reaching out to stop Ben from turning off the light. He shifted in Ben’s arms and pushed him onto his back. “I wanna see.”

Gavin looked bashful as hell, but he crawled on top of Ben and started tracing his fingertips over Ben’s skin.

“Can’t you see in the morning?” Ben asked, quirking a brow, unable to stop his smile as he looked at Gavin.

At first, Gavin only shook his head in answer. Then, as his fingers landed on Ben’s oldest, and probably his favorite tattoo, Gavin said, “This one isn’t your design.”

How he knew that was a mystery, but Ben nodded. He didn’t have to look down to know which one Gavin was talking about. He could feel Gavin running over the amateurish lines of the wolf, baying at the moon.

“Did your friend do this one?” Ben was pretty sure he knew which friend Gavin was talking about, but Gavin added in an apologetic whisper, “The one who died?”

Jeremy had been his best friend since the second grade. They’d been more like brothers than buddies. They were technically distant cousins, but Ben hadn’t learned that until Jeremy’s funeral when he was seventeen. Fucking leukemia.

“How’d you know that?”

Gavin looked surprised by the question, but he answered anyway. “You never fixed it. It’s never been touched up, or… I just figured that was probably why.”

Well, hell. The kid paid even closer attention than Ben had realized. With a shrug, Ben said, “I’ve thought about fixing it, could probably do it myself in the mirror, but…”

“Sometimes the imperfections are what make it perfect.”

Damn. Ben nodded in answer. He didn’t know what to say to that. Gavin was right, of course, but looking up into Gavin’s face, the way his blond hair fell over his eyes, his full lips flushed pink against alabaster skin… On the surface, Gavin was the embodiment of perfection, but Ben knew him better than that. Gavin’s scars just ran too deep to see, even up close.

Before Ben could say anything else, Gavin slid his hand higher, resting it over Ben’s heart. “Why don’t you have anything here?”

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