Because of You

Dean sipped on his

bottle of cold beer, and glanced around the bar. It was dimly lit, which wasn’t

surprising considering the late hour and the premises. Soft strains of some

song he’d never heard filtered through the low voices of the men around him.

He’d never been here

before, and to be honest he’d probably never come again. It was most definitely

a pickup joint, but the men that dotted the stools at the bar, or the

infrequent tables scattered haphazardly within the small room, were not his

type. They were all older than him for a start—most in their mid-forties and

upward, but that wasn’t the only reason. From what he could tell, they were

business men—office types, in suits—and he never went for anyone who wore a

suit.

He was just about to

pick up his phone to check the time when he heard a voice behind him.

“Hey.”

Assuming unwanted

attention—again—Dean turned to give whoever it was a quick refusal, but Ben stood

there, a smile on his face.

“You’re late,” Dean

accused, unintentionally sounding more aggrieved than he felt. Ben was only a

few minutes late, so it wasn’t really that which had Dean annoyed. What pissed

him off was having to rebuff several attempts at being picked up.

“Sorry, got caught up

at work.” Ben sat down opposite, beer already in hand. “I saw you already had

one,” he said, indicating the half-empty bottle in Dean’s hand.

Dean tipped his bottle

back to his mouth. He’d been nursing it for over fifteen minutes because he

wouldn’t have another. He didn’t drink much, and anyway he was driving home.

When he placed it back on the table, Ben was staring at him. His scrutiny was a

little unusual, but so was his asking to meet Dean here. Normally they went out

to their local near work, and it generally suited them both. This, though, this

was so off the wall it started a niggling worry. Was Ben trying to hook him up with

someone? No, he couldn’t be, because Ben knew he didn’t do casual.

“And how is work?”

Dean asked.

“You should know. We

both work for the same company.”

“Yeah, but you’re at

the office every day. I only need to be there once a week—which is how I prefer

it.”

“Well, it’s good. We

signed up that new client you did the specs for.”

Dean smiled. As

resident architect, Ben did the drawings and ultimately got the contracts. Dean

only did the quantity surveying and oversaw the building projects once a job

was under contract.

He casually leaned

both arms on the table. “So, why are we here?”

Ben glanced around the

bar, and then shrugged. “How long have we known each other?”

Caught off guard by

the question, Dean frowned. “A little over a year. Why?”

“And how long have we

been friends?”

“The same amount of

time. Why?” he asked again.

Ben picked up his

bottle, took a sip, and then put it down, wrapping his fingers tightly around

it. He fiddled with the label before catching Dean’s gaze. “Do you trust me?”

he asked.

“Yes, of course I do,

but why are you asking? What’s this about, Ben?” Something was off. Ben wasn’t acting

his usual self. “You’re worrying me.”

“Don’t. Don’t worry.

It’s nothing tragic. Well, that depends on your attitude, and ultimately your decision,

but, I want you to think long and hard before giving me an answer, okay?”

“An answer to what?”

Ben lifted his hand,

palm out. “Just give me a second to formulate the words properly.”

Seriously? Since when

did Ben have a problem formulating words? The man had a mind like an encyclopedia.

He was eerily smart, analytical, and decisive when it came to dealing with

clients. So why was he at a loss for words now?

He waited though,

simply because whatever Ben was going to ask him to do would have been meticulously

thought out, and was going to be well worth hearing. However, Ben seemed to

have a real issue with getting out what he wanted to say. His normally focused

blue eyes were filled with uncertainty. He looked pale too, even in the dark

lighting of the room. He sat back, played with his bottle a little more, then

bit his lip.

“This is going to

sound unusual. Actually, it’s going to sound like I’m out of my mind, but I’m

not. I’ve had a lot of time to think this through. You can say no, so there’s

no pressure—but I hope you don’t. I really want it to be you.”

“You’re making no

sense. What do you want me to do?” What the hell was going on? Ben never acted this

mysteriously, or hesitantly. It was so out of character. Then again, the last

few times Dean had seen Ben he’d been acting weird.

Ben shifted a

little uncomfortably in his seat then he lifted his chin—his light blue

eyes clear once again. “I want you to fuck me.”

Dean knew he hadn’t

heard right, but when he half lifted his mouth in an attempt at a smile he noticed

the grim line of Ben’s. The man meant it. Holy fuck, Ben meant it. Dean stood

abruptly, shaking his head emphatically.

“No!”

Several stares were

turned their way, but Dean hardly noticed. He pointed at Ben, both shock and dismay

flooding his body. “Are you fucking crazy? I’m not fucking you.”

Ben grabbed his arm

and pulled him back down. He also slid in close to Dean on the bench seat. “You

don’t have to shout, you know. I can hear you.”

“Then you know my

answer,” Dean replied, dropping his voice down to a hiss as he noticed the attention

they were getting.

“You didn’t think

about it.”

“I didn’t have to.

I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous. You’re straight, Ben, or have you forgotten

that? You fuck women, not men.”

“I haven’t forgotten,

but—”

“No, there are no

buts.”

“Of course there are.

I’m curious.”

“Curious? Teenagers

are curious. Not grown men of twenty-nine.”

“Look, I know this is

a little…unorthodox, but I want you to really think about it. It would be

easier with you, but if you say no—if you honestly don’t want to do this with

me—then I’m going to ask someone else.”

“What?” Now Ben had

gone too far. “You can’t do that. Who?”

“I don’t know who.

You’re the only gay man I know, but that’s why I came here.” Ben slowly looked around

the room, his gaze resting on a few single men seated at the bar. “I checked

out gay bars on the internet. This place seemed like a good choice because the

men here are supposed to be experienced, and I thought one of them might be

glad to help.”

“Glad to… Ben, you

can’t be serious. You don’t know the first thing about gay sex. You could get

into trouble. They might not take care and hurt you.” Why was he even saying

all this? He should be dragging Ben out of here and beating this nonsense out

of his head.

“I’ve done research. I

know what I’m getting myself into. And that’s why I asked you. I trust you, and

I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Research? Jesus. What

kind of research? Do not tell me you’ve already started experimenting with someone.”

Dean felt his stomach clench at the thought of Ben on his knees in a dark alley

somewhere while some asshole shoved his cock down his throat.

“Like I said, I’ve

checked out the internet. Watched some movies. Got some toys.” Ben made an expressive

gesture with his hands. “I’m not going in blind.”

“Yes, you are. You

obviously haven’t thought this through.” As soon as he said it, Dean knew it

was the wrong thing to say. Ben bristled.

“I’m not rushing into

this. I’ve thought about it long and hard.” Disappointment clouded Ben’s face,

and uncertainty once more engulfed his eyes. “I really want it to be you.

Please.”

At a loss, completely

shaken by Ben’s request, Dean stared at his friend. He knew arguing with him wasn’t

going to work, but maybe if he pretended to consider it, Ben might change his

mind on his own—when he realized how stupid an idea this was. “Can you give me

a couple of days to think about it?”

Ben smiled, though it

didn’t take the darkness out of his eyes. “Okay. I’ll give you till Friday.” He

stood, looking as awkward as Dean felt, and then he slowly walked away, leaving

Dean with a hard knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

Friday morning, Dean

was still no closer to saying yes than he’d been on Wednesday. Every part of him

questioned Ben’s motives. They’d been friends for a long time, long enough to

know Ben was serious because the man never did anything without going through

all the pros and cons first. But sex with a man? Why? What had prompted it? Ben

had never mentioned he was curious before, and God knows he would have had

plenty of chances to raise the subject in the past. So why now?

Grabbing a mug from

the cupboard, Dean poured himself a coffee, his actions automatic while his mind

fought to find a reason for Ben’s sudden demand. And that was another thing.

Ben had been pretty adamant he was going to do this, with or without Dean’s

help, and that seriously had Dean worried.

Ben wasn’t stupid.

Despite his claim of doing research he would know the real dangers of just hooking

up with some random guy. There weren’t many men who would care that he was a

virgin or take the time to introduce him to gay sex properly. If Ben really

wanted to do this, he would need someone who would do it right. Someone who

would take care of him, take it slowly, and treat him gently—the way he

deserved. Not that Ben would think he deserved preferential treatment, but he wouldn’t

take the risk of getting hurt. So why the threat? Or had he just said that

because Dean had said no? And Ben would have to know Dean wouldn’t have agreed

to such a thing, didn’t he?

More confused by the

minute, and giving up on trying to sort this out now, Dean rinsed out his mug then

grabbed the keys for his truck.

The building site he

was visiting didn’t need much of his attention, which was good, because he hardly

gave it any. By the end of the day a headache had begun to form behind his

eyes, and he wondered what he was going to do when Ben asked for his answer. He

considered requesting an extension of time, but wasn’t sure if Ben would give

him one. That opportunity slipped by when he received a text message on his

phone.

Meet me at Danny’s.

Danny’s was their

local, and it was neutral ground. Dean supposed it was as good a place as any,

and he hoped there was less chance of either one of them causing a scene that

way. Still, it took a lot more courage than he’d thought to walk through the

door and into the noisy bar.

Ben was waiting for

him. He was sitting calmly at one of the small tables tucked into a corner. There

were two bottles of beer on the table.

“Hi.” Ben stood

slightly then sat back down. It looked like he’d been on the verge of hugging Dean,

which, though they did on occasion, didn’t seem appropriate now. In that

instant, Dean had his answer. If they were awkward with each other now, how

would it be if he went ahead and gave Ben what he wanted?

He sat down opposite,

worry marring his brow. Ben’s friendship meant too much to him. Since meeting

at work when he’d joined the company over a year ago, they’d clicked. It

had taken Dean a while to admit to Ben he was gay, but Ben hadn’t minded, in

fact he’d actively encouraged Dean to come out openly with the rest of the

staff. With no repercussions, he’d found himself happier than he’d been for a

long time, and he’d allowed that happiness to affect how he thought about Ben.

He couldn’t risk losing that, even if it meant disappointing him. However, as

he took a quick glance at the expectancy on his friends face, he suddenly

thought of something. Dean’s private fantasies of fucking Ben were just

that—fantasies. He’d never voiced them, never even hinted at them, but had Ben

somehow picked up on what sometimes went through Dean’s mind? Wondering if that

was why Ben was doing this, Dean groaned.

“Hey? Are you all

right?” Ben reached across the table and grasped Dean’s hand. Dean instantly felt

the tingle of contact, and fought the instinct to pull his hand away. Could Ben

know Dean wanted his friend in bed, under him, holding him, slowly making love

to him?

“I’m fine, thanks,”

Dean replied, but he sat back against his chair, forcing Ben to let go of his hand.

Ben frowned, but didn’t comment, which was something he would normally do.

“So, have you made up

your mind?” Ben asked as he picked up his bottle of beer.

“Have you changed

yours?” Dean responded, ignoring the way Ben filled out the white shirt he

wore, and how under the subdued lights of the bar he positively glowed.

“Not about you fucking

me, no. I still want that.” Ben didn’t look uncomfortable as he made his

statement, in fact he seemed eager, excited. “But about me looking for someone

else if you said no, well, I didn’t really mean it.”

Relief hit Dean hard,

and it wasn’t until then he realized how upset he’d been by the idea of another

man touching Ben. In fact, if he’d found out Ben had given up his virgin ass to

someone else, Dean would have been pissed. However, that still didn’t mean he was

willing to take Ben, despite the odd need to want to show him how good

something like that could really be.

“So it’s me or no one,

is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.”

“And if I say no?”

What did he mean if? He was saying no, end of story.

“Then I’d be truly

disappointed.” Ben looked it too. He dropped his gaze and heaved in a deep

sigh. “I’ve been thinking of it for so long. Thinking of doing it with you.”

The last was said so

low, Dean wasn’t sure he’d heard it right, but his cock did. It twitched in his

jeans, filling out as his blood suddenly ran south. He bit back on another

groan, careful to keep his reaction hidden. “You know this is a bad idea, don’t

you?” he asked, realizing how his words kept the possibility open. He should be

saying no, emphatically, permanently.

Ben glanced up, his

thick lashes fluttering over those dark blue eyes of his. “I think it’s a great

idea. At least then I’d know.”

“Know what? How sore

your ass will be in the morning?”

Color flooded Ben’s

cheeks and he drew in his bottom lip. Fuck, did he have any idea how fucking gorgeous

he was when he did that?

“Yes.”

Dean wanted to get up

and leave, he really did because the thought of being buried deep inside Ben’s

body was slowly driving him crazy. So crazy he almost… He shook his head, and

Ben made a small sound of dismay.

“If I was any other

guy it wouldn’t bother you. All those one night stands you’ve had. Why can’t you

just give me a chance? Damn it, Dean, you’re not being fair.”

“I’m not being

fair?” Dean leaned forward, putting his clenched hands on the table. “You’re

not any other guy, Ben, so it does bother me. You’re my best friend, and I—” Oh

no. He was not going there. He wasn’t going to tell Ben he loved him because

that would be unforgivable. It was bad enough he lusted after the man. Yet,

hadn’t Ben just admitted he’d been lusting after him, thinking of him, imagine

Dean doing all sorts of things to him?

“Just one night.

That’s all I ask.”

“Why for God’s sake?

Being curious is not a reason to get your ass reamed.”

Ben sat back, a

mutinous expression on his face. “Give me another reason then.”

There were plenty of

reasons, but the one that popped into Dean’s head wasn’t the one he was prepared

to discuss.

“Fine.” Shit, had he

just said that? He must have because Ben broke out in a delighted smile.

“Yes? Really? You’ll

do it?”

Though wishing he

could take it back, Dean still nodded. If truth be told he’d give Ben anything he

asked for, he just hadn’t expected Ben to ask for this.

“Thank you. I knew

you’d come through for me.” Ben stood and extended his hand. “Come on,” he said.

“Where?”

“We’re going back to

my place. I’ve already got it set up.”

“What? Now?”

“I can’t wait.” Ben

slipped his hand through Dean’s, his firm grip both surprising and odd. He

pulled Dean to his feet. Dean followed, a little dizzy with shock. Ben wanted to

do it now?

Ben only lived a few

streets away, but Dean insisted on driving, though he kind of wished he hadn’t when

his hands slipped on the steering wheel more than once. He wasn’t going to deny

he was nervous, and he didn’t like the roll of his stomach as he parked the car

in Ben’s driveway and got out.

Ben was animated. He

climbed out of the passenger side and strode up to his front door with the air

of a man who’d been told he’d just won the lottery or something. He glanced

over his shoulder, and Dean had a feeling he was making sure he was still

following him and hadn’t decided to bail.

Once inside, Ben

headed toward the kitchen. He didn’t hesitate to bring down two glasses and a bottle

of scotch from a glass-fronted cupboard. “Want one?”

Dean almost said yes,

but shook his head instead. “No, thanks. I need to keep a clear head.” What he needed

to do was make sure he didn’t say or do anything that would raise Ben’s

suspicions. It was bad enough he’d agreed to do it in the first place; he didn’t

want Ben knowing it was his own desire to have Ben in his arms that had pushed

him over the line.

Ben grinned, looking

far happier than Dean had ever seen him, whereas Dean guessed his own face conveyed

uneasy apprehension.

He stood in

the middle of the kitchen, not knowing what the hell to do. Normally he

would be kissing the guy who brought him home, or getting him to strip, but

here, he hadn’t a clue. He supposed the ball was in Ben’s court, and he would

have to wait until Ben was ready to play. When Ben turned to put his back to

the counter however, he suddenly looked nervous, and Dean guessed Ben wouldn’t

be making the first move.

Deciding to help him

out, because that’s what friends were for, he stood in front of Ben then took

his glass from him, putting it onto the counter. “Where do you want to start?”

he asked.

“I, um, I don’t know.

I’ve never seduced a man.”

“I damn well hope

not.” It still didn’t sit well—Ben wanting to do this, but at least Dean could breathe

easy that Ben wouldn’t have tried this with someone else. But why was he

trying it at all?

Still not

understanding Ben’s reason, Dean again worried that once this was over… No, he

didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think of a future without Ben

in it. He took a deep breath, pushing his fears to the back of his mind. Ben

wouldn’t just dump him if he decided he’d made a mistake. He’d think about his

actions rationally and wouldn’t blame Dean for giving him what he’d asked for. At

least that’s what Dean hoped. Taking that chance, and the only one he’d ever

get to be with Ben, Dean jumped in.

“I don’t know about

you, but I like to start slow and work my way up to hot and fast.” Dean watched

Ben’s face, gauging his reaction. Ben wasn’t all that easy to read, which was

why this had come as such a surprise. Now though, he wasn’t hiding anything, and

his eyes showed both need and trepidation.

“Slow? Like kissing?”

“Yeah.” How many times

had he thought about kissing Ben? “And touching,” he added, because he’d thought

about that a lot too.

“So we do that first?”

“If you want.”

Sounding nonchalant didn’t come easy, but he had to make sure Ben knew what he was

doing—because this was all on Ben, and Dean wasn’t going to take any

responsibility for it.

“I want.”

Ben slid his arms

around Dean’s waist. Dean shivered just slightly, the simple contact affecting him

more than he’d thought. But Ben always did that to him; made him want what he

thought he’d never have.

“This kind of touching

okay?” Ben asked, his blue eyes wide as he stared into Dean’s.

Not sure how he’d

sound if he tried to talk, Dean nodded. Ben’s shoulders were as broad as his own,

his chest as wide. They were both the same height, and their hips aligned

perfectly. So did their mouths. Dean dropped his gaze to Ben’s lips. The man

licked them, and Dean instantly reacted to the unvoiced invitation. He leaned

in and, ignoring everything that told him this wasn’t going to end well, he

joined their mouths together.

Ben gasped, and Dean

instantly pulled back.

“No, don’t stop.”

Ben’s plea hit a chord with Dean. That’s what he usually wanted the men he was fucking

to say, and hearing it from Ben was no different. He pushed up against Ben’s

body, capturing his lips again. This time Ben moaned.

Wanting to grip the

back of Ben’s head and plunder his mouth, it took a lot of effort for Dean to remind

himself he wasn’t doing this for his own pleasure. He was supposed to be giving

Ben an experience he wouldn’t forget, but Dean couldn’t help savor the feel of

Ben’s lips on his and notice how soft yet firm they were. He tried to be

gentle, giving Ben a chance to pull back if he wanted to, but Ben tightened his

grip around Dean’s waist before moving to link his arms around his neck.

Need caused Dean to

trace Ben’s bottom lip with his tongue. Ben opened his mouth, and Dean

instantly entered. The heated wetness, along with the silky slide of Ben’s

tongue, had Dean slanting his head, getting a better angle. The whiskey flavor was

a sharp contrast to the sweetness that lay beyond it—the sweetness of Ben.

Changing direction, he

nibbled against Ben’s hard jaw, then dragged his mouth down Ben’s neck, licking

the slightly rough skin, relishing in the fact that Ben hadn’t shaved. Ben

twisted his head to give Dean better access, and the unconscious submissive gesture

had Dean’s body tightening in arousal.

Dean fought to take it

slow, but the way Ben was reacting, the way he seemed to be giving himself over

to Dean, just pushed all of Dean’s buttons. Needing to change the pace, he

pulled back and dropped his hands, but immediately missed the contact of Ben’s

skin.

“Should we get

undressed now?” Ben’s question was too close to Dean’s own thoughts, but he

shook his head. Seeing Ben naked… Dean inwardly groaned. Shit, how was he

seriously supposed to do this without Ben finding out how much he couldn’t wait

to get in his ass?

“No. I mean… Why don’t

you have a shower, and I’ll, um…” What? Wait in bed for him, stay in the kitchen,

run away and never come back? The surrealism of what was going to happen was

throwing Dean for a loop. What if he fucked this up?

“Come in with me?” The

hopeful glint in Ben’s eyes was Dean’s undoing. He hadn’t been able to say no

to Ben when it counted. Would giving in and having a shower with him make any

difference? He lifted both arms in a gesture of whatever, and then

allowed himself to be led toward the bathroom.

He honestly tried not

to watch as Ben started pulling at his tie and undoing it. He’d never thought of

ties as sexy before, nor a plain white shirt, and certainly not suit pants, but

as Ben took off each item of clothing, Dean started to change his mind. Yeah,

Ben was a guy who wore suits, but Dean suddenly didn’t care. The body beneath

the clothes didn’t look like it belonged to a man who sat behind a desk all

day. He knew Ben exercised—he played squash with him once a week, but looking

at Ben’s well-toned and nicely-muscled frame had Dean wondering why he hadn’t

taken more notice. Oh right, because Ben was his friend and Dean wasn’t supposed

to be lusting after him.

“Dean?”

Ben had stopped at his

tight, black briefs, and Dean realizing he was staring. Clearing his throat, he

started pulling off his T-shirt and jeans. He knew he didn’t need to be

self-conscious because if anything he was in better shape than Ben, however

he’d never had a straight guy looking at him the way Ben was, and it was a

little disconcerting. Down to his boxers, Dean hesitated, wondering if it would

be better if Ben got naked first. He glanced up, and then sucked in a sharp

breath when he noticed the front of Ben’s tight, black briefs begin to stretch

and fill out.

For some odd reason,

Dean hadn’t expected Ben to get aroused, which was stupid now that he thought about

it. Ben wanted to get fucked. He’d no doubt want to come. Why else would he do

something like this?

He swallowed,

fascinated with the way Ben was hardening under his gaze. His own body’s

response was immediate, but Dean ignored it. “You may want to get out of those

before you strangle something,” he said, hoping to keep the mood light so Ben wouldn’t

start freaking out on him.

Ben smirked, his

posture relaxed. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs and slowly—very

slowly—eased them over his erection and down his hips. Dean openly stared.

Fuck, Ben was big. Thick and long, he nearly put Dean’s to shame. Nearly. Dean

suddenly wanted to compare. He pulled off his boxer briefs ridiculously fast,

and moved to stand closer to Ben. It was only as he was about to reach out and

grasp Ben’s cock did Dean realize what he was doing. He stopped, and felt his

face turn red.

“I was going to

compare dick sizes,” he said by way of explanation when Ben frowned at him.

“Do gay men do that?”

“Not just gay men, but

yeah.” Dean eyed Ben’s cock again. “I didn’t realize you were so big.”

“Good thing I’m not

fucking you then, isn’t it?”

Dean quirked an

eyebrow, surprised at Ben’s humor. If Ben was trying to be funny that

was. “What makes you think I’d let you top?”

Ben’s blue eyes locked

onto Dean’s brown ones. Ben’s were serious once more. “Would you?”

“I might.” Dean had no

idea what made him say that, but as soon as he had, he knew he meant it. If Ben

was gay and things were different… But Ben wasn’t, and they weren’t.

“Are we going to have

that shower now?” he asked, pushing past Ben and turning on the hot water.

The water was too hot

when he stepped under it, and he had to quickly add some cold. He grabbed the

first bottle he saw on the shelf and squeezed some onto the puffy thing hooked

over the tap. Just as he was about to start rubbing it vigorously over his

body, it was taken from him. He blinked as Ben stepped into the shower and

crowded him into the corner.

“You don’t want to do

this, do you?” Ben asked.

Knowing he had to be honest

because Ben wouldn’t accept anything else from him, Dean said what was in his

heart. “I do want to do this, but I don’t want to lose our friendship

over it. Things are going to get awkward and…”

“It won’t get awkward.

You’re my best friend, Dean, and I have no intention of losing you. You’re the

reason I’m doing this.”

He was the reason? On the verge of asking Ben what he meant,

Dean got sidetracked as Ben moved in closer and brushed his lips softly against

Dean’s. His silky wet skin was a complete distraction, and Dean forgot about

everything else as he opened up for Ben’s kiss and allowed the other man to

start massaging suds onto his chest. He grabbed Ben’s hips and aligned them

together, moaning slightly at the contact. Best friend or not, having a man’s

hard cock sliding alongside his was not something Dean could deny himself.

Bubbles slithered down

his stomach and pooled at the mat of dark curls at his and Ben’s groins. Dean

noticed how the bubbles made Ben’s skin glisten, and how they made grinding

against him so much better. He closed his eyes, and Ben skimmed his fingers

across Dean’s shoulders, his caress amazingly electric.

Before he forgot why

he was there, Dean took the sudsy sponge from Ben and dropped it to the tiled floor,

and then he brought his hands to Ben’s cock and carefully encircled his thick

length.

Ben’s low grunt of

surprise had Dean smiling. “You do know this is only the beginning, don’t you?”

“Yes. I just… Yes.”

“Good, because there

is so much more I’m going to do to you.” So much more.

Careful, so Ben would

know what he intended, Dean got on his knees and, uncaring of the water pouring

over his head, curved one hand around Ben’s thigh and used the other to draw

Ben’s cock into his mouth.

“Fuck, Dean!”

Ignoring Ben’s cry,

Dean concentrated on the taste of Ben’s cock. As Dean licked around the swollen

head, he detected the faint salty flavor of precum leaking onto his tongue. He

dipped his head lower, taking more between his lips. Ben started shaking. Dean

grinned around his mouthful then began to suck in earnest. Ben’s knees buckled

and he began sliding toward the floor.

Grabbing Ben so he

didn’t hit his head on the tiled wall, Dean helped him sit down. “Are you all

right?” he asked.

Ben nodded. “Yeah. I

didn’t think it would feel like that.”

“I barely got

started,” Dean said, confused. “You have had blowjobs before, right?”

With his breathing

barely steady, and his hands clutched around his knees, Ben stared at Dean. “Of

course I have, but this was different.”

“How?”

Mumbling something

Dean didn’t catch, Ben got to his feet and turned off the water. He grabbed a towel

and passed it to Dean before wrapping another one around himself. His face was

controlled, but his eyes seemed wild.

“You honestly don’t

know, do you?”

“Know what?” Feeling

like he was missing something, Dean shook his head. Ben made a reproachful

sound, but before Dean could question him about it, Ben seized his arm and

began dragging him toward the bedroom.

He’d only been in

Ben’s bedroom once before when Ben had been sick and Dean had put him to bed. Ben

hadn’t been feeling well, but hadn’t wanted to go home. One look at him

however, and Dean had insisted. The fact that none of their other colleagues had

been able to convince Ben had been a matter of pride to Dean. At least his

friend listened to him. Well, most of the time he did.

The room hadn’t

changed. The bed was neatly made, there was still a pile of books on the side table,

and, as before, there were no clothes scattered on the floor or the club chair

located in the corner. However, it looked… different. It wasn’t until Dean

noticed the box of condoms and the bottle of lube next to the bed that he

realized why.

This wasn’t the place

where he’d tucked Ben in and told him he’d be okay while holding a cold

compress to his forehead; this was the place where he was going to fuck his

best friend.

Pulling in a deep

breath, Dean counted to ten before letting it out slowly. Performance anxiety

had never been an issue before, but he suddenly wondered if he was going to be

worthy of Ben’s expectations. What if he was so bad, Ben wished he had

tried this with someone else? A prickle of apprehension settled in his stomach,

but not wanting Ben to know how daunted he felt right then, Dean casually

pulled off his towel and crawled onto the middle of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Ben nodded, dropped

his towel to the floor, and edged right next to Dean. Ben’s heat immediately seeped

into Dean’s skin, chasing away the chill sitting in his stomach. He was naked,

in bed, with Ben, and Ben wanted him there. Succumbing to the need slowly

building inside, Dean pushed Ben onto his back, and settled between his thighs.

“Let’s try that

blowjob again, shall we?” he suggested, getting comfortable. Still hard, Ben’s cock

stretched toward his navel, so Dean simply leaned in and put it into his mouth.

Ben’s low groan gave Dean a sense of delight, and he forgot about worrying

whether he was able to make this good for Ben.

“Dean?” Ben clutched

at Dean’s head, his fingers digging in. Dean glanced up. Ben was staring at him,

his mouth open. “I’m going to come.”

Considering that had

been Dean’s intention, he didn’t let up, enjoying the feel and taste of Ben filling

him while using his skill to bring Ben closer and closer to the edge. Just as

Ben tensed and his deep groans became panted whimpers, Dean gently cupped Ben’s

balls and slid a finger against the sensitive area beneath.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

Hot cum spurted into

the back of Dean’s throat. Expecting it, he swallowed, but as the last pulse hit,

he drew back a little and caught some on his tongue. Holding it, he waited

until Ben had relaxed, then he crawled up Ben’s body and kissed him.

Ben opened up, and

Dean passed the leftover cum into Ben’s mouth. Ben grimaced, which was pretty much

as Dean expected.

“Just wanted you to

know what it tastes like,” he said.

“I know what my cum

tastes like,” Ben muttered.

Astonished, Dean

gaped. “You do?”

“Yes, I do. And I

don’t like it.”

Though knowing he

shouldn’t have presumed a blowjob in return, Dean couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

It took him a moment to remember this wasn’t about him, that it was about Ben.

Still, the man could have tried. Grabbing the lube and box of condoms

off the bedside table, Dean was about to suggest getting Ben stretched, when

Ben grinned.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t

like yours though.”

Before Dean had a

chance to reply, Ben rolled over and trapped him on the mattress. “I want to

taste you,” he said.

Pinned down, Dean

stared up at Ben. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask you to

do this without repaying the favor. I assume you like having a man’s mouth on

your cock?”

“Well yes, but you’ve

never—”

“No time like the

present to learn.”

Dean knew he should be

asking why again, but the thought of Ben’s tongue licking him, Ben’s lips wrapped

around him, and Dean couldn’t say no. He nodded his assent then watched as Ben

got himself in position. Ben seemed to take stock, and then he gripped Dean’s hard

length and sank his mouth onto it.

Dean shuddered at the

first contact, but was careful not to do anything that would hurt Ben, or make him

want to stop. Warm lips, soft and pliant, enveloped his cock while a tentative

yet effective tongue swiped over the head. Ben moaned; the little hum sending

vibrations through Dean’s shaft. Dean stared down at him. Ben’s eyes were

closed, but the way he was devouring Dean’s cock made it look like he was

enjoying himself. Mesmerized, Dean held back on a groan, clutching the quilt

beneath him as he felt his balls begin to tighten. Struggling against the need

building inside and the control he knew he needed to keep, Dean transferred his

grasp from the bedspread to Ben’s hair. He pulled him up, nearly laughing at

the look on Ben’s face.

“What?” Ben asked.

“Wasn’t I doing it right?”

“Yes, you were doing

it right. Much better than I expected.” Way better.

“So why’d you stop

me?” Ben asked, his voice tense.

Dean didn’t want to

admit he had no intention of coming in Ben’s mouth. It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t

be able to come twice, it was just that he didn’t want the memories of spurting

down Ben’s throat to haunt him for the rest of his life. Taking stock, again,

of why he was doing this, he tried for a smile. “Turn over and I’ll show you,”

he said.

Ben sat up and shook

his head. “I don’t want you to do it from behind. I want us to be face to

face.”

Something inside Dean

twisted. In every fantasy he’d ever had about making love to Ben, he always had

Ben on his back so he could stare into his deep blue eyes. To know that was

what Ben also wanted had Dean’s pulse racing. He nodded then gently helped put

Ben into position.

“Grip the backs of

your knees and pull your legs up.”

Ben did as asked,

exposing himself to Dean’s gaze. Dean’s mouth went dry. Jesus, Ben had a

beautiful pink hole, just begging to be breached. He reached for it, gently

stroking the puckered skin. Ben twitched and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Relax,” Dean said

instinctively. “It won’t hurt so much.”

“You’d better not hurt

me.” Ben’s growl released some of Dean’s tension, and he grinned.

“It’s gonna burn a

little, but I’ll be careful.” He wasn’t going to pretty this up this for Ben,

but he was going to try and make it as good as he could. “Now relax,” he said

again.

The lube was of good

quality, the same brand Dean used, so he knew how much to put on his fingers. Inching

a little closer, and ignoring the way his hand was shaking, Dean slowly

inserted the tip of his middle finger into Ben.

Heat and tightness

welcomed him, so did Ben’s low moan. He pushed in deeper, almost closing his eyes

as the sight of Ben accepting him became close to unbearable. God, and he

hadn’t even started pushing his cock in there yet.

“Okay?” he

asked, just to make sure.

“More.”

Ben’s plea sent

shivers across Dean’s skin. He couldn’t ignore it this time. He’d wanted this

man for so long it was hard to hold back on the desire rushing through him, but

he couldn’t let Ben know. Couldn’t allow him to see how this was affecting him,

how he was slowly losing control.

Closing his eyes, Dean

gave himself a few seconds of respite, and then gave Ben more, smearing the

lube inside before adding another finger to test Ben’s endurance.

“Dean.”

Dean paused,

glancing up at Ben’s face. He looked so serene, so calm, when Dean felt

anything but. “Yes?”

“I want you in me.”

“I am in you.”

“I want more of you.” Ben

let go of one of his legs and grabbed Dean’s hand. The movement caused Dean’s

fingers to brush against Ben’s prostate, and he groaned. “Oh God, that’s…”

Heart somewhere in his

throat at Ben’s response, Dean did it again. Ben visibly shook, and his grip on

Dean’s hand tightened. It wasn’t to stop him though, so Dean gently added a

third finger, truly stretching Ben and getting him ready.

Ben was panting by the

time Dean thought he’d be able to take his cock. He pulled his fingers free then

picked up the box of condoms. Ben avidly watched him, drawing in his bottom lip

as Dean ripped open a foil packet.

There was no point in

asking Ben if he was still sure, and with that in mind, Dean rolled the condom

on and aligned himself with Ben’s waiting hole. He prayed though. Prayed with

all his heart this wasn’t going to end up with him getting hurt.

Just before he pushed

in, Dean gave the inside of Ben’s knee a small kiss. Ben’s gaze never left his,

and it was the trust Dean could see in those dark blue depths that gave him the

courage to continue.

“Remember to relax,”

he said. Then, with gritted teeth, he penetrated Ben’s virgin ass.

The feel of being inside

Ben was far more intense than Dean expected. It wasn’t so much the physical

sensation, but the emotion behind it that made Dean groan. He gripped Ben’s

thighs to hold himself steady, using all his experience to not push in too

fast, too deep. He knew Ben would need time to adjust, and he paid close

attention to the nuances of Ben’s body to indicate when and how much to move.

“So good, Dean.”

Ben’s soft words were

like a balm, easing the concern tightening Dean’s chest. He nodded before slowly

pushing all the way in; then he waited.

“Okay?” he asked

again.

“You have no idea.”

Ben reached up and curved his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulled

him down. A gentle caress of lips teased Dean before Ben tightened his grip and

opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Dean lowered his weight and felt Ben’s

erection pressing against his stomach. A shot of pleasure raced down Dean’s

spine, igniting a need he could no longer deny.

“Ben.”

“Want this.

Want you.” Ben shifted slightly to accommodate him, and Dean automatically

started to thrust.

He began slowly, each

lift of his hips measured and controlled. Ben moved with him, wrapping his legs

around Dean’s waist. Muffled moans accompanied each thrust, and it took a while

for Dean to realize they were coming from him. He buried his face in the crook

of Ben’s neck, tasting his skin, smelling his sweat—and knowing those two

things would remain with him forever.

Ben’s arms tightened

around him, holding him, while his soft murmurs encouraged Dean to thrust harder,

faster. Dean was becoming lost in the pleasure. He could feel Ben’s muscles

surrounding him, squeezing him, embracing him. He rocked his hips, pumping with

more force, more need. Ben groaned and arched his back. Dean sought his mouth

again, sliding his tongue alongside Ben’s.

His heart was racing,

but it had nothing to do with how close he was to coming. This was Ben, and he was

kissing him, fucking him, and he didn’t want to stop.

Everything changed in

that heady moment. As Dean stroked Ben’s innermost parts he somehow felt his soul

being filled, taken, and held, by Ben. Dean lifted up and met Ben’s beautiful

eyes, and knew he would never be the same. They would never be the same.

“Coming. I’m coming.”

Ben looked almost astonished, but Dean was too far gone to think it funny. His

body tightened with the familiar tingle at the base of his spine.

“For me, Ben,” he

said. “Come for me.”

Ben’s cry sounded loud

in the room, but it echoed inside Dean’s heart. Wet heat splashed against his

stomach the same instant Dean’s orgasm took him to a place he would have sworn

he’d never been.

“Fuck! Fuck, Ben!”

Strength deserted him,

and as the last pulse of intensity died, Dean collapsed. He only had enough

wits about him to hold onto the condom as he carefully pulled out. Ben’s small

whimper had Dean instantly pulling Ben into his arms.

“It’s okay. It’s over

now. It’s over,” he said. And that’s what he was afraid of. He knew this would happen.

He knew making love to Ben would ruin things between them. He’d hoped it

wouldn’t; had hoped he could do this and walk away without his heart being

crushed. But from now on, every time he looked at Ben, he was going to remember

this, and know he was never going to experience it again.

Sorrow replaced the

remnants of bliss still lingering in Dean’s limbs, but he continued to hold

Ben, soothing him and hoping it would be enough to get them through the next

few difficult minutes. He waited until Ben pulled free, and then steeled

himself for the judgment in Ben’s eyes.

Ben, however, smiled

at him. “Thank you.”

Dean nodded, not

prepared to say you’re welcome or to offer any other inane reply. He

inched away, needing some space, some room to breathe. Some time to figure out

how he was going to survive each day.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…”

Dean shrugged. “I think I’d better go.”

Ben frowned and

reached out to grip Dean’s arm. “Why?”

“Because we never

should have done this,” Dean argued. “You’re going to wake up tomorrow and wish

you’d never asked me, and I’m going to wish I never agreed.”

Ben’s face paled. “You

hated it.”

“Yes. No. Shit, Ben.

What I felt about it doesn’t matter. It’s how you’re going to feel.”

“And how will I feel?”

Ben sat up, anger seeming to ripple through his muscles.

“Like I let you down,”

Dean said against the constriction in his throat. Damn, it wasn’t fair. He’d

just had amazing, mind-blowing sex, and instead of reveling in it, he was

pushing away the man who had given it to him. But wasn’t that better? For him

to leave before Ben left him?

“You haven’t let me

down. Just the opposite. You’ve given me what I wanted.”

“If getting your ass

fucked was what you wanted, then yes, I have, but at what cost? What did you

gain from this, Ben? Seriously, I want to know.”

Ben closed the

distance between them. His breath ghosted along Dean’s shoulder, making him

shiver. “I thought I’d gained you.”

“You’ve always had me.

Fucking your ass wouldn’t have made any difference.”

“It does to me. I

wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to know what being with you was

like.”

“Why?”

Ben shook his head, as

if Dean should already have known. “Because I love you.”

Dean’s heart gave a

little jolt. “Love me? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Look, I know it

sounds strange, but I started noticing things about you, things that attracted me.

Your smile, the way you laugh, the way your eyes light up when you’re telling a

stupid joke… I’ve never felt that way before and…” Ben took a deep breath, his

hands held out. “When I realized what was happening to me, I had to follow

through on it. I had to find out if it was real or not. And it was.”

Somehow, somewhere,

Dean thought he’d dropped into The Twilight Zone. Was Ben insane?

Straight men didn’t fall for their gay best friend. That was the stuff of

fairytales and romantic novels.

“No. I understand you

wanted to experiment, but that’s all this was. You were curious. You had an itch

to scratch. Well, it’s done. You don’t—”

“An itch? That was not

a fucking itch, Dean! We made love!”

“No, we didn’t. We—” Fucked?

Dean cringed at the word. He hadn’t fucked Ben. You don’t fuck the man you

love.

“I don’t understand. I

thought…” Ben’s face paled as he stared at Dean, and the look in his eyes was

of a man lost. “Don’t you want me to love you?”

Something twisted in

Dean’s chest, and he almost said yes, but what then? When Ben realized loving another

man was not as simple as just saying it, that there was a whole world of

controversy involved, he was going to regret it, and Dean would be left with his

heart shattered.

Already feeling the

pain of it, Dean got up off the bed and headed toward the bedroom door,

intending to get his clothes from the bathroom. He couldn’t believe what Ben

was saying to him because believing meant hoping, and Dean had never dared hope

there could be anything between them other than friendship.

“Where are you going?”

Ben was right behind him.

“Home.”

“Dean—”

Dean turned to face

Ben. “I can’t do this right now. Please, just give me some time to sort this

out, okay?” Dean hurried to pull on his jeans and T-shirt. His wallet and keys

were still in his pocket, but he would have left them behind if necessary. Ben

hovered by the door, but Dean didn’t know if he could cope with looking at him

again.

“Can I call

you tomorrow?” Ben’s tentative question caused Dean to pause. He shook his

head.

“I’ll call you.”

Shoving the discomfort of that single phrase behind him, Dean walked away. He was

knew he was acting like a dick, but how could Ben have thought he’d be fine

with Ben’s declaration? Love him? Ben had no idea what he was talking about.

Yet, as Dean slammed the front door behind him and marched toward his car, he was

remembering the way Ben had clung to him and the way Ben had moaned Dean’s name

as he was coming.

Monday morning came

way too fast for Dean. After three sleepless nights his nerves were shot, and for

the second time within a week he found himself worried about facing Ben.

However, the thing about not sleeping was it had given him the chance to re-think

and re-evaluate what Ben had told him.

Dean knew he’d reacted

badly, and he regretted running out on his friend, but what was he supposed to

make of Ben’s sudden admission? Dean had no idea Ben’s feelings toward him had

morphed into something more—if what Ben had said was true. But why would

he lie? Could Ben love him, really love him? Furthermore, if Dean took that

chance and he gave his heart to Ben, would Ben cherish it, look after it?

After forcing himself

to confront that possibility, Dean still hadn’t the balls to contact Ben and talk

to him about it, and now he’d run out of time; he was going to have to face Ben

today whether he was ready to or not.

Unsure of how strong

Ben’s affections really were, Dean entered the office building. Their Monday meeting

still had to go ahead, despite how they personally felt about each other. With

his stomach cramping and his limbs feeling like lead, Dean slid through the

boardroom door to see Ben and four others already sitting at the table.

Dean nodded and smiled

at the others as he usually did. But then he saw Ben’s face, and Dean’s smile

fell away.

Ben looked like his

world was falling apart.

Dean instantly went to

him. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Ben’s normally bright

blue eyes appeared dull and haunted. He shrugged; his broad shoulders barely moving

beneath his suit jacket. “I don’t know. Am I?”

In that split second

Dean knew he’d royally fucked up. He was to blame for the way Ben looked, all because

he couldn’t accept what had been given to him. Well, he could be an idiot once,

but where Ben was concerned that was his limit.

He sat on the chair

next to Ben and, ignoring the curious glances from around the table, turned Ben

to face him. “You look like you’ve slept the same amount of hours I have,” he

whispered so the others couldn’t hear.

“I was waiting for you

to call me. When you didn’t…” Ben shook his head slightly. “I guess I got my

answer.”

Dean groaned, knowing

he needed to set this straight, and now. He glanced at their spectators. A few

of them looked intrigued, but not wanting a witness to his groveling, he

grabbed a startled Ben by the wrist and dragged him to the empty office next

door.

“What are you doing?”

Ben protested. He pulled his arm free, absently rubbing at the reddened flesh. “We

have a meeting to attend.”

“I’m sorry, but what I

need to say needs to be done now, and I don’t—”

“Dean…” Ben flinched,

and if it was at all possible he looked even worse—like he was ready to throw up.

“Not here. Please.”

Ashamed for not having

done this earlier, Dean shook his head. “It’s not like you think,” he said. He

picked up Ben’s hand and gently stroked his thumb across the inside of Ben’s

wrist. He could feel the pulse beating there, frantic, like his seemed to be

doing.

“I’ve been a jerk,” he

began, and it was only when Ben’s frown leveled out did Dean figure he could say

the rest. “For the past five days I’ve gone from feeling shocked, to euphoric,

to completely uncertain, and I’ll admit, I haven’t handled it very well. But

you’re my best friend, Ben, and if you honestly think you love me—”

Dean didn’t get a

chance to say anything else. Ben’s mouth was on his, cutting off the ability to

do anything other than kiss the man back. He automatically opened for him, and

then moaned under the onslaught of Ben’s tongue.

Wrapping his arms

around Ben’s waist, Dean hauled the man up against him. Ben went willingly, cupping

Dean’s face to keep their kiss going. Shockwaves skittered across Dean’s skin,

and he tightened his hold on Ben, reluctant to let the man go now that he

realized he could have him.

Dean only pulled back

a little when he remembered the office they were in had a glass panel in the

door and wasn’t really private. Ben tried to drag him back, but Dean shook his

head. “I don’t think this is the right time or place to continue our discussion,”

he said, hoping his tone sounded reasonable.

“We’re not discussing

anything. I don’t think I love you, I know I do. Granted, it was difficult for

me to understand and accept that at first, but I know how I feel. It’s not

going to change, Dean, if that’s what you’re worried about. I may have been

straight, or the gay in me had been dormant simply because I hadn’t met the

right man to love, but don’t think I don’t know what I’m doing. Well, I may not

have known what I was doing by asking you to fuck me instead of telling you I

loved you.” Ben blushed then, giving color back to his too pale features. “In hindsight

I should have done it the other way around, but if the sex wasn’t good, if I

didn’t like it, then at least I wouldn’t have felt guilty if things didn’t work

out.”

“So you like the sex?”

“I fucking love it.

The way you make me feel when you’re inside me…” Ben shivered. “I love you,

Dean. You’ve made me love you, just by being you. You’re smart, you’re sexy,

you don’t care that I’m a stubborn workaholic bully, or that I snore—”

“You snore? No, sorry,

that’s a deal breaker,” Dean said, but he was smiling, and Ben’s answering grin

set fire to Dean’s nerve endings.

“So, do you think you

can love me back?” Ben asked.

“I’ve always loved

you, but can I fall in love with you?” Dean thought about the way Ben

felt in his arms, the way Ben was always there for him, and the way Ben was

looking at him now, as if the world revolved around Dean’s answer. Things had

changed between them, but Dean reckoned they’d changed for the better. He

nodded. “I already have.”