Don't Read in the Closet volume one (50 page)

Ben's eyes
stung. He had to go. "Who else would I call?"

Smiling, Duke
patted the top of the car and stepped aside to close the door. The instant Ben
was alone in the confined
space,
he let out a sigh of
relief. But it still didn't soothe the ache.

"Hey,
Ben," Duke called out. He leaned down again to speak through the open
window, blue eyes so warm and soft, and somehow that unexpected sight of him
just made all the feelings in Ben's chest churn hotter. "Just ... thanks.
For last night and today and ... everything."

Ben plastered a
smile on his face, holding it together for another minute. "Anytime."

He pretended to
fiddle with his phone as Duke stepped back. But really, he just sat there,
watching the man he loved get into his truck and drive away.

When Ben got
home, he set about doing all the things he usually did on a Sunday afternoon to
get ready for the week ahead, but eventually he found himself sitting on the
couch, flipping through channels. One of his teams was playing, so he settled
on that. He knew Duke would have come over to watch it with him if he'd asked,
but he needed the time to think. To grieve, really.

He needed to
get his head around the idea of moving on.

Two hours into
the game, he looked up to discover he had no idea who was winning, and even
more, that he barely cared. Still, he didn't have the energy to move or the
will to look for something better to do. The game ended, and the talking heads
appeared, rambling on in a low hum of meaningless words. With the sun low in
the sky, Ben could feel his stomach rumbling. But he didn't care.

The post-game
wrap-up had slid on into something else when the bright peal of the doorbell
broke the relative quiet. Ben startled and sat up straight on the couch,
clumsily reaching for the remote to silence the television before rubbing his
hand across his face. Part of him wanted to just ignore the intrusion, but with
his car in the driveway, he couldn't exactly pretend he wasn't home.

He finally made
his way to the door and peered through the peephole, only to see blue eyes staring
back at him. The dull ache in his chest tightened, and he pressed his forehead
to the wall for a second, his eyes squeezing shut as he braced himself to
pretend that everything was fine.

He was so tired
of pretending.

With one more
deep breath, he pulled open the door and pushed his best smile across his face.
Even he could tell that it was weak, though.

"Hey,"
Duke said, holding up the case of beer he'd brought. "I hope you don't
mind..."

It didn't
escape Ben's notice that Duke would never have been so tentative about dropping
in like this before.

"No. Come
on." Ben stepped out of the way to let Duke through, before following him
to the kitchen and accepting the beer he proffered.

"So,"
Duke started but then hesitated. He leaned back against the counter. And it was
all so awkward. "I just, um ... I was wondering ..." He swallowed and
fidgeted with his bottle before beginning again. "I need to change the
bandage. On the new ink."

"Right."

Duke looked up
at him, and there was something in his eyes, Ben thought. Something new.
"Remember how you helped me? Last time? With the one on my back."

Ben was getting
hard just thinking about it. "Sure."

"Would you
help me with this one?"

The beer bottle
slipped in Ben's fingers. He just barely recovered before it could fall to the
ground. "But ... I ... Just ... Really?"

"Yeah,"
Duke broke in, his voice low. "Will you?"

There was no
way in hell he couldn't reach that damn tattoo on his own. And it was so close
... It would put Ben's hands so close
to ...

"Okay."

Duke set down
his beer and headed to the bathroom, an unspoken expectation that Ben would
follow. By the time he caught up, Duke was standing there amidst the white and
blue tile, his shirt already on the floor, and he was opening up his pants.
Feeling his own cock go to steel, Ben hovered in the doorway. How many times
had he fantasized about an image just like this?

With his pants
pushed down to just below his hips, the thin line of hair trailing down his
abdomen beginning to bloom into short, black curls, Duke stood there
expectantly. His voice broke as he asked, "Well?"

His heart
pounding, blood rushing and his chest so tight, Ben pushed past Duke to sit on
the edge of the bathtub, fearing his legs would give out if he tried to do this
standing. "Come here."

Duke turned
toward him and stepped in close. Without even meaning to, Ben found his eyes
dipping down lower, past the plastic of the bandage. With the way Duke was
holding the waistband of his pants to keep them from falling down completely,
there wasn't much to see. But for a second, Ben thought he caught the tell-tale
line of a hard cock pressing against the fabric. He wondered if Duke was just
as turned on by all of this as he was.

"Do you...
How..." The knot in Ben's throat made it hard to get the words out.

"Just take
the bandage off. Please."

Ben nodded and
then brought his hand up to hover over the warm, tanned skin of Duke's abdomen.
For a second, he let it linger there, unable to bridge that thin gap of air.
Finally, he felt his fingertips graze flesh. And it hurt. To want so much. To
be so close.

Placing his
other hand on Duke's thigh to steady
himself
, Ben
carefully began to peel back the first strip of tape and then the next.

"How does
it look?" Duke asked huskily.

"Beautiful."
As he pulled away the last bit of tape and exposed the tattoo to the air, Ben
felt an overwhelming urge to press his lips to the smooth skin beside it. To
run his nose along the length of the cock just below it. The ink was still
covered with a little bit of blood and goo, though, and he knew it needed to be
cleaned. Only, the more he thought about how he would possibly go about washing
it, the more distracted he got. "You're going to have to take your pants
off, or they're going to get wet."

"I
know." Duke started to slide the fabric down, and just as everything was
about to come into view, Ben closed his eyes.

He couldn't do
this.

"I – Duke,
I
– "

"It's
okay," Duke whispered, and then somehow he was on the floor, kneeling in
front of Ben, their faces at eye-level with each other. Ben blinked,
disbelieving and so aroused. Then, almost silently, Duke exhaled his name.

"But
– "
Ben didn't get the next word out. He didn't get
any
words out, because suddenly there were lips, soft and warm. He felt stubble
against his chin and a hand at his waist, and it was Duke.

He was
kissing
Duke.

The muffled
groan that fell out of his throat was his body catching up with his mind.
Parting his own lips, Ben kissed back, grabbing onto bare skin and pulling
closer, closer, closer. He gave himself over to it – to the thing he'd wanted
for as long as he could remember. And suddenly it seemed like it was his.

A traitorous
thought bloomed in the back of his mind, though, and even as he was opening
himself, his tongue darting out to
touch
, he felt the bottom falling
out. In one swift motion, Ben tore himself away. "Duke. What
– ?"

Duke just
shushed him and placed small kisses all around his mouth and chin. "I had
to know. I didn't – I didn't want to
– "

Ben heard those
words louder than all the others.
I didn't want to.
The parts inside of
him that had started to open slammed back down. "You
–
"

"Not
unless it was real," Duke interrupted. "Not unless I knew you did,
too."

Ben's thoughts
were reeling. "Unless I
– "

Duke pulled
back and placed his hands on the sides of Ben's face. Looking at him levelly,
he intoned, "Unless I knew you wanted this, too."

"This?"

Nodding, Duke
leaned forward. And just before their lips could meet again, he whispered,
"
This.
"

All of the
arguments and all of the misgivings disappeared beneath the pressure of that
perfect touch. Falling forward, Ben let his arms wrap around the hard lines of
muscle along Ben's back and side, taking care not to touch the fresh tattoo as
the two men let their mouths explore.

Over the course
of so many years, Ben had had a lot of opportunities to imagine what it might
be like to kiss his best friend. What he'd never imagined was that it would be
better than he'd ever guessed. So much better.

Between kisses,
he dragged in ragged breaths, trying to explain everything he felt, but there
wasn't room in his lungs. There wasn't enough air or space, and what little he
had of either was all being spent on the man before him. "Wanted it. So
much. For so long."

"Always,"
Duke agreed. "Just didn't think I could. Not until last night."

Ben pulled away
slightly. "Last night?"

Duke
nodded,
his hand tender on Ben's jaw. "When you asked
about the times when I was happy. I meant it, Ben. It's always been with you.
And I realized
,
I want ... I want all of it. All the
time. I'm finally willing to admit that."

It felt like
something cracked in Ben's ribs, and he pressed his face hard against Duke's
neck, his arms wrapping around the other man's waist
so
tightly as he laughed. "I want that. I do."

Slowly, he
shifted one of his arms to place his palm against Duke's heart, then trailed a
single finger down the center of his chest, past his navel and then
lower
.

He paused just
before he hit the still-raw skin beside Duke's hip, circling around it gently.
Pulling back, he said, "We do need to get this washed."

Duke's face
fell, his hands dropping away from Ben's face. "Oh."

Ben caught his
wrists, smirking. "So what are you waiting for?" At Duke's hesitant
expression, Ben brought their joined hands down to the waistband of Duke's
pants, now hanging low on his hips. He pushed them lower,
then
pressed his lips to the other man's jaw, whispering, "Best way to do that
is in the shower."

With a low,
"Fuck, yes," Duke's mouth found Ben's. Together, they pushed his
pants the rest of the way down. Ben had to close his eyes against what he knew
he would see when he glanced down, sucking hard on Duke's bottom lip to keep
from crying out. When he did finally look, the noise in his throat could not be
contained. And neither could he.

Duke's cock was
long and thick, rosy with need and leaking. Ben had seen it before of course;
hell, once he'd even caught a glimpse of it erect when they'd been in the
shower after practice at age sixteen. But he'd never seen it like this. Not
when it was it was hard
for him
.

He couldn't
help himself from reaching down, surrounding the solid length of it with his
hand. He pulled a few slow strokes and slipped his thumb through the slick drop
at the head before reaching down to his balls, learning the shape of him. When
Duke moaned at the contact, Ben swore he felt it in every part of him. Before
long, though, Duke was stilling Ben's hand, breathing harshly as he kissed his
way to Ben's ear. "Slow. Please. I've been imagining this all day. Hoping.
God, I hoped you'd touch me."

Moving his hand
to Duke's hip and pulling him close, Ben breathed, "I want to do more than
touch you." They met in a blistering kiss, and Ben scraped his teeth along
Duke's tongue. "You're gonna feel so fucking good inside me."

"Jesus."

Their mouths
only separated long enough for Duke to pull Ben's shirt over his head, but then
he was urging Ben up, his fingers tugging at the button of his jeans. Ben stood
on shaky legs as he felt his body exposed, the hot flesh between his legs
meeting cool air.

And then
warmth.

Hot and wet
and...

At the sight of
his erection disappearing into Duke's mouth, Ben nearly came on the
spot,
all those years of longing making him feel like his
skin was too tight. Yet here it all was. Everything he'd wanted. Everything.