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Because of You

By pennybrandon All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Romance

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.”

 

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