Page 23 of The Lost Art of Woodworking and Taking Risks
He could tell that Bennan was grinning without even looking at him. “Yes, he did.”
“Wow.”
They got back to work, and Chamis actually thought that was the end of it.
Over the next few days, he learned that no, it was not even close to the end of it. Because now people wanted to know what Perian and Summus had been talking about, and apparently Perian had shown off his carving to some of the Mage Warriors, and this had somehow led to Chamis showing some of his other carvings to others, and now people actually wanted his carvings and were even willing to give him money for them.
Chamis had no idea how to deal with this.
Bennan smoothly stepped in and took over, which was perfect. Chamis carved because it calmed him down and didn’t involve other people, and there had been a teetering moment where it seemed like that had been ruined. But with Bennan handling the people, Chamis found he was happy to carve things for others, and he was honored they actually wanted them.
Bennan insisted he needed to at least take the cost of the wood.
“If you’re going to be carving more, you’re going to need more wood. And if you need more wood, it costs money. If you really don’t want to put a cost on your time, you don’t have to, but let’s at least not have this end up costing you money. You’re an artist, Chamis, and your art has value.”
Chamis wasn’t totally sure aboutthat, but when Bennan added that it slowed people down a little, he let the man have his way, with the caveat that if somebody really wanted one butcouldn’tafford it, then they’d figure something out.
This led to Chamis sometimes being paid in sweets, an embroidered cushion, or a favorite stone that a child had found in the river. (They really wanted to get a little dog carving for their mother for her birthday, and they couldn’t possibly give her a gift that came for free, now could they, so they had to make a trade.)
“I will treasure it,” Chamis told them gravely, and carefully gave it a spot on his shelf with the carvings.
Bennan kissed him on the side of the head, and Chamis felt remarkably content.
True to his word, Bennan periodically checked in to see how Chamis felt about further intimacy, and as time progressed, he evolved it to a method that made Chamis feel even more comfortable. Now, he suggested activities they might like to try, generally based off something they’d done in the past. As a result, Chamis felt safe with the slow, gradual build, instead of paralyzed by what had seemed more like jumping off a cliff.
He’d kind of assumed that the norm was to go from kissing to fully penetrative sex, but Bennan had very patiently taught him that wasn’t true, and there were so many paths in between. They could kiss, touch one another from the waist up, rub against one another while they were fullyclothed or half dressed. They could rub one another off while they were both naked but not do more than that. They could suck one another, they could finger one another, they couldlickone another. (Chamis hadn’t actually realized that was a thing. It was a really glorious thing.)
And Bennan was always entirely open about expectations—or rather, that there weren’t any.
“Just because this was something you did yesterday—or last week or last month—doesn’t mean you need to do it today. Just like with anything else, you can have things that you’re in the mood for, things that you like at different times of day, things that you just aren’t feeling and you don’t even know why. The most important thing is that we both want it, and everything else we can figure out.”
And day by day, week by week, Chamisdidbelieve that. Because people still flirted with Bennan. Some of them gave up when they saw he was taken, like they’d been trying to get his attention and now knew they’d failed. Some of them, like Perian, continued to flirt because that was how they expressed themselves, but it was entirely clear they weren’t going to do anything about it. And there were those who continued to flirt because they seemed to think that at any moment, Bennan might suddenly decide it wasn’t Chamis he wanted at all.
Chamis occasionally got a small squirm in his belly when he saw some of those people interacting with Bennan, an instinctive reaction and a small burst of worry that maybe they were right. Only Bennan demonstrated every day that while he might flirt with other people, he was not interested in going further with any of them. Chamis saw it in the warmth of Bennan’s smile when he was directing it at Chamis, different than when he smiled at anyone else. He saw it in the way that Bennan took care ofhim, jumping in if it looked like Chamis was getting overwhelmed by people—or very occasionally, did actually poke him in the side to indicate he needed help—but also in the way he let Chamis take care of himself, because hecoulddo that.
They had occasional misunderstandings and talked things out as they got used to one another, but it was all part of an experience that Chamis loved and definitely didn’t intend to give up anytime soon.
When Chamis presented him with a positive handful of beads—he hadn’t been able to settle on one design, not even a couple of designs, so he might have gone a little overboard—Bennan had gawked at them and then given Chamis the biggest hug and kiss, squeezing him tightly.
“Oh, Chamis, I love them! They’re amazing!”
Chamis had done them in clusters of three, as this was the most commonly worn configuration. He’d made perfectly smooth, round beads that showed the wood grain of several different light and dark woods. He’d carved spirals into some. He’d cut careful lines around others—some horizontally and some vertically—to make a simple pattern. He’d carved tiny dots. He’d decided the crossed swords didn’t work—a number of attempts had been consigned to the fire—but he’d done more abstract carvings that were nature-inspired and a bit more ornate, and more geometric ones with lines and curves. It had been delicate, finicky work, and he’d loved doing it because it was for Bennan.
And since he’d given them to Bennan, he’d never seen the man with any other kind of beads in his hair.
Bennan did a marvelous job of making it clear how much he wanted Chamis, from his carvings to his dislike of green vegetables to the need to find quiet parks—plus all the physical parts of him. Chamis was a bigman, and that kind of meant that… all of him was big. If he were being perfectly honest, Chamis had always found his own size a bit off-putting.
“It’s just so… big,” Chamis muttered, feeling his face burn. “All of me is so big.”
Bennan’s face was soft. “Oh, sweetheart, that is not a drawback. It just means there’s more of you for me to enjoy.”
For Chamis, who had always wished he could disappear in the background, this was a novel concept.
On multiple occasions, his boyfriend had made explicitly clear how much he enjoyed Chamis’s big hands, his big cock, how that cock filled his mouth… He wasn’t shy in sharing his appreciation, and while Chamis knew he needed to accepthimself… it was pretty wonderful to have someone who was not just accepting but genuinely excited about every part of him.
It had still taken him weeks to gather up the courage to truly believe that he could have more, but Bennan had been so good about checking what Chamis was up for and making wonderful-sounding suggestions.
They were making out in Chamis’s bed on a beautiful summer afternoon when they were off together and were unlikely to be disturbed, since most people were outside enjoying the weather.
