Page 24 of Something Like Winter
“What?” Tim laughed. Poor guy thought he had served his purpose and was no longer needed “You’re crazy.” Tim reached him and shoved Ben back on to the couch. He tossed his crutches aside, falling on him in a clumsy wrestling move. Ben cried out in amused shock. This was familiar territory. Tim was the guy, Ben was the girl, and it was his role to be the dominant one, to take what he wanted. He got Ben on his back, kissing him, tasting his lips and indirectly tasting himself. Jesus, this was crazy, but Tim was already getting hard again. He reached down to Ben’s package and found it in the same state.
“Your turn,” he huffed into Ben’s ear.
Tim slid off to the side, his knees on the carpet. He pulled up Ben’s shirt, admiring the narrow waist and the lines of ribs sticking out. So like a girl, but still a guy. Speaking of which. Tim ripped open the jean shorts, the buttons popping loose one by one, before yanking them—and Ben’s underwear—down.
For the first time, he saw another guy hard. Strange how different the same body part could be when it belonged to someone else. Ben was cut, of course, the head always exposed and much more purple than his own. But for a scrawny little guy, he sure was packing. Tim was bigger, which made him feel more like a man, but Ben had nothing to be ashamed of.
“Nice,” Tim said, taking hold of it and starting to pump. Ben’s skin felt tighter, probably because he was circumcised. That made the technique Tim used on himself impossible, but Ben responded as if Tim was doing fine, moaning and writhing beneath his touch. The experience was hotter than Tim had imagined. He pulled Ben’s shirt higher with his free hand, teasing his nipples with his tongue. Then Tim did what he loved best, and started kissing Ben again. He was still kissing him when Ben exploded in his hand.
Tim grinned as Ben groaned and jerked, taking his revenge until Ben too begged him to stop. “I’ll grab a towel,” he said. Tim’s stomach rumbled. “And then you’re going to cook for me.”
Sliding back into their old routine was easy. The more time Tim spent around Ben, the more he appreciated that. Nothing was complicated with him. There was no dramatic discussion about what any of this meant. They had sex, simple as that. Then they hung out like they always did, watching TV or putting on music and just talking about whatever.
Ben slept over that night, making himself a bed on the floor and giving Tim the couch. Somehow the idea of going upstairs to his room seemed too intimate. Would they sleep cuddled up together? Despite everything they had done, the idea sounded weird. Until the next morning, when Tim very much wanted Ben on that couch with him.
They started off the day by reenacting the events of the previous evening before it came time to face the facts. Tim’s parents were coming home, which meant dismantling this fantasy world, gathering up the pieces, and putting them away. They were both a little subdued as they cleaned the house, not wanting their fun to come to an end. But it had. Tim had to say goodbye.
“You should probably get going,” he blurted out. Ben was wiping down the kitchen counters, even though they clearly didn’t need it. “Just in case my parents catch an early flight or something.”
Still Ben worked, his brow furrowing as if the task required his full concentration.
“Look,” Tim began, but while the words were easy to find, saying them wasn’t. “What happened between us, well…”
Ben’s hand stopped wiping. He looked Tim straight in the eye, giving his full attention. Maybe they could still do this, if they could find somewhere to be alone. But there was something even more crucial than that.
“It’s probably best we keep it a secret,” Tim said. “I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
“Wrong idea?” Ben repeated.
“There’s nothingwrongwith it,” Tim backpedaled. “I just don’t want people thinking I'm gay when I’m not.”
Ben looked at Tim curiously, like he was speaking a foreign language. But then he said, very carefully, “Okay. Not a big deal.”
All right! That wasn’t so hard. He thought Ben would be upset. In a strange way, Tim was kind of disappointed he wasn’t.
“So are you going to call me?” Ben added.
“Yeah, totally!” Tim felt he said this with a little too much enthusiasm, so he added, “We’re buds.”
“Cool,” Ben replied. “I’m off, then. Good luck with your parents when they get here.”
“Good luck with yours! I hope you won’t be in too much trouble.” Tim reached out and tousled Ben’s hair, thinking about drawing him in for a kiss, but that wouldn’t be fair. Not if this was the end, and he couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t.
Tim matched Ben’s smile as he left, but as soon as the door shut behind him, he didn’t feel so happy. He slowly made his way through the house, doing one final inspection for any damning evidence. Already the place seemed a lot colder, like Ben had taken the heart of the home with him.
Chapter Seven
“Oh, you’re home! Didn’t you hear us honk? Go help your father with the luggage.”
“I can try,” Tim said with a grunt, grabbing his crutches and pulling himself up from the kitchen table.
“¡Gordito!” His mother set her bag down, staring at his cast with concern. Even his father, hauling in the first suitcase from the garage, appeared worried. “What happened?”
Tim had thought about dramatizing events, running with a story about thugs who had jumped him, or maybe how he kicked down the door of a burning building to save orphans or some crap like that. Obviously he didn’t want to tell them that a gay guy on skates knocked him over and later seduced him.
“Some crazy biker ran me off the path when I was out jogging,” Tim said. “Fell right into a drainage ditch. Don’t worry, it’s just a sprain.”
“My poor baby!” His mother took his face in her hands and kissed his cheeks. “Sit! We’ll get the rest of the luggage.”
