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Ben, with his all-American sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes, usually feels more like the bumbling jock who never got picked for varsity, so he makes his name as the class clown instead.
He turns to the wall where Xander was standing and punches it, just one quick jab to release all his frustration and his hurt and his shame.
“I’m going to let you watch me, Benjamin,” he says softly. “And just so we’re clear—I don’t let anyone watch me.”
“Can I kiss you?” “You can, but you may not.” Xander is smirking.
Ben hardly dares to hope. He opens it slowly. “Really?” he says, his face lighting up. “A riding crop? But you always said—” “Never mind what I said. You want to try it. So we should try it.”
“Oh, you’re so brave,” he breathes into Ben’s ear. “Thank you. That was a privilege to watch.”
He and Ben are intertwined on the floor of Ben’s apartment. They tried to make it to the sofa, but somehow they didn’t get there,
Ben is thinking, Maybe I could be your boyfriend. Maybe that’s what this thing is. But he’s a coward. Can't say it. If you can't say it, you can't do it.
“So you’ll be my boyfriend?” he asks again, with a big, stupid grin. Xander laughs. “Yeah. I’ll even go to prom with you.”
“Food. Flattery. Sex. Generally sex works best.
He licks his mouth, but the grease perseveres, making him look like he’s wearing shiny lip gloss. It’s adorable.
He sees canyons and clouds, he’s standing on the edge. Well, that’s new, he thinks. And then immediately he’s back in his body, hard.
“I’m just trying to make it last as long as possible, Benjamin,” Xander says at last.
"So how's this working for you?" he asks Ben. "The Honesty Policy? Good, so far." It was Ben’s idea, and Xander agreed that it might solve a lot of problems before they started.
Ben is feeling light in his body; he can feel Xander stimulating him but it’s not intense. Ben floats. Xander is happy with him.
“Don’t start thinking there’s anything special there just because he kisses it all better when he’s finished.”
“But seriously, Xan. That guy?” Xander starts laughing. “Dear God, don’t ever call me that again,” he begs, and kisses Ben hard.
“I asked you if you were crying,” Xander says softly. “And you said, ‘Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet: If it could weep, it could arise and go.’ It stopped me in my tracks, actually.”
Ben dives. It’s been too long since he’s had Xander in his mouth. He uses some tricks he’s learned off the internet, which make Xander gasp and definitely wakes him up. “Jesus!” he hears Xander saying. “Have you been practicing?”
“Where am I? Beneath the sun’s rising, or beneath the turning point of the icy Bear?”
But it’s not an act. Xander is not playing a part. This is Alexander Romano, unleashed.
“Benjamin,” he murmurs, “this probably isn’t the best time, but I think I love you.”
“Hi,” Xander says. “Hi.” Ben stretches; winces. The shoulder still hurts. “My mouth tastes like ass.” Xander smiles at that. “An unfortunate-but-common side effect of sex with one’s fellow man,” he says.
John Donne Xander told him once that he quoted: Love's mysteries in souls do grow, but yet the body is his book.
But looking at Xander, Ben is pretty sure he’s found his direction. Due north, towards the Icy Bear.
Xander gives him a despondent look. “But the universe gave me you, too,” he says softly. “And you’ll still have me,” Ben points out. “Even in New York, even with thousands of miles between us, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
