9. Benny

NINE

BENNY

One would think after what the last three weeks of my life have been like, I'd get my shit together and act like an adult. Face my mistakes head on, admit that not talking to Bates was wrong, hear him out.

And that was my intention, I swear. As soon as I landed in Vegas I was going to drive to his house and just get all this sticky stuff out of the way and get our friendship back on track.

Instead of doing all that, I went home.

I showered, thinking that it was best I shower off the travel. I was going to get my Switch and take it to Bates's house so I could beat him at Mario Party after our talk and prove nothing about our friendship has changed.

But then I got out of the shower and put on my best jeans as well as an indecently tight V-neck.

I grabbed my wallet and my phone and left the gaming console in its stand where I'd just connected it to charge it.

I'm pretty sure I found the switch to turn off all rational thoughts because I went down to the lobby of my building and strolled the two blocks to the Winner resort as if what I was doing was my plan all along.

My logic settings come back on as soon as the same bouncer as last time lets me into Lure. My heartbeat accelerates to a concerning speed as I take one step inside. The Pistol Annies are singing about feeling a sin coming on.

The dancers come out in assless chaps that—wow, those are some firm fucking asses—and the second the club comes alive with the crowd singing along, "Give me tall, dark, and handsome," I see my tall, dark, and handsome.

And fuck, is he ever.

Turning off my brain was definitely the right choice , I think as I see Chris lean both elbows on the end of the bar. His palms slowly rub against each other and he's looking over the club like a fucking king.

I walk over to him, slipping by sweaty men, avoiding inviting glances, and generally feeling annoyed that there are so many damn people who want to party on a fucking Wednesday.

But if there weren't, I wouldn't know where to find Chris, so it's a downside I'll happily live with.

"Hey," I say in a way-too-breathy voice. It's a good thing I'm right in front of him because otherwise there's no chance he would've noticed me. As it is, I don't think he heard me. Not with the club going crazy once more for "Despacito."

"Baby." I see his mouth move with the word but can't hear him. And that's all the permission I need.

I don't care if he calls everybody baby, all I care about is that that's how he greeted me. I take one tiny step closer to him until our arms are almost touching and go to grab his hand but end up grabbing his wrist. I pull a little and bring his ear right up to my mouth.

"Can you come home with me?" I ask, trying not to sound too desperate.

He leans back and looks at me with his forehead creased in confusion. I'm about to repeat myself, since I think the only thing he can be confused about is my request, but I suddenly can't speak when he brings his free hand up to my cheek and softly strokes my five-day beard.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I nod—I can only nod—and then nuzzle his palm.

"Okay, BB, let me just talk to my guys."

Thank God, is all I can think as I let go of his wrist and see him lift the partition to walk behind the bar to the two people who were there last time I was here too.

It's only thirty seconds until Chris is back next to me and this time he takes my hand and interlaces our fingers. I like that he does what I expect him to do—drag me to the employees-only door, then down the hallway and into the elevator.

There's no insatiable need this time—though I do want him, and my plan is to have him—but after so many days of texting with him as much as I could, it's nice to just be next to him.

We don't speak as we walk back to my place, but the second I close the door behind me he whirls around and slams me against the wall.

His mouth is firm against mine the next second, and as soon as I feel his tongue seeking entrance I part my lips. He growls a little when I do and grinds his groin against mine so I can feel how hard he's getting. I'm in the same boat, absolutely, and when he places his hand right over my Adam's apple, my head goes fuzzy with lust.

Jesus, what the hell is that about? It's like my horny button.

I grip his shoulders, moan into his mouth, and grind against him, giving him just as good as I'm getting, but then he takes a step back and I find myself disoriented with how fast I lost all contact with him.

"Whaaa?" I ask with my hands in the air in front of me.

"We need to talk first, BB. I tried not to bother you too much today, since I knew you were talking to Norman, but you gotta tell me how it went."

"Oh," I say and lower my gaze to the ground. I shrug and answer without looking up. "I haven't gone to see him."

"What? Why? You said you would as soon as you were back here."

"I know." I groan and rub both hands down my face, then finally lift my head to look at him. "I just..." My lips clamp shut. I can't say it. No way.

He's gonna think I'm an idiot. He's probably going to get freaked out and leave me here alone and horny as all hell.

"You . . ." he prompts.

"Ugh, I couldn't wait to see you, okay?"

His face freezes on an expression going from confused to blank for a whole ten seconds, but then a smile spreads on his face. "Really?" he asks, looking way too pleased.

"Yes, really. So can we get back to the grinding and kissing? And I liked the neck holding, we gotta talk about that later because seriously." I open my eyes wide to express how awesome that is for me.

"Yeah, baby, we can talk about that later." He takes two steps toward me and lifts his hands so they go directly to my neck, his mouth once more pressed to mine.

Fuck yes.

"Bedroom," I mumble against his lips.

"Yeah," he says in a breathy tone, then takes my hand and drags me down the hallway, through the living room, and into my bedroom. We stop next to my bed and immediately go back to kissing, only this time, he starts pulling up my shirt and I start undoing his belt.

I lean back to get the fabric over my head, and he pushes me gently so I fall on the bed.

"Lean back, baby. Last time you took care of prep, but this time I'm gonna do that, okay?"

"Okay," I answer. My voice is back to being breathy and I don't mind it at all since it gets me his wolfish smile.

"Where's your lube?"

"The drawer," I say and gesture to my nightstand with a head tilt.

"Get your jeans off, baby." I do as he says and watch, riveted, as he grabs the lube and tosses it onto the bed next to me. Then he takes off his clothes and I'm pretty sure I'm drooling as I watch every inch of perfect, tight skin come into view.

Man, he's even better than I remember. How can he be better than what I remember? Naked on the bed, I just lie there and enjoy the show, the way his eyes travel from my feet, up my legs, how they settle on my dick, then shift to my abs and pecs, and finally they meet my eyes.

He grabs the back of my knees and lifts my legs until my feet are flat on the mattress, then he commands. "Spread them a little more, baby Benny. "

"Oh, God." The words come out in a lust-filled moan as I do as he says.

He grabs the lube without taking his eyes away from my groin. He's got me hard as a rock and I have to reach down and squeeze my base so I don't come right now.

"It's okay, baby. You can come anytime you want. I'm gonna take my time stretching you anyway, and I don't want you to suffer so..."

He trails off as he coats his pointer finger with lube then spreads it around it. I watch his face as he reaches down, and a gasp leaves me when I feel him circle my hole lightly but I can't look away.

He looks focused and hungry. Hell, the thought of him eating me is too much, so I squeeze myself again to stave off the orgasm. I know he just said he's going to take his time, and I believe him, but I want to come for the first time while he's stretching me out.

"So fucking tight," he mumbles as soon as the tip of his finger slips into me.

"Well, it's been a couple of weeks," I say unnecessarily.

"Good to know, baby." His eyes shift to me for a second and they lose the intensity, only for it to be replaced with pleasure. "Same for me," he says so softly I think for a second that I hallucinated it, but no. He did say that.

Then he's focused once more on where his finger is, and he starts pumping it slowly. He bites his lip so hard it turns white, and brings his free hand to his hard cock and strokes himself just as slowly.

"Chris," I half whine, half warn.

"Told you, you can come anytime, baby Benny. I'm not, but I can't do anything but touch myself when you're so pretty in front of me, offering yourself up for me."

"Can we maybe go just a little bit faster? I want you inside me, Chris. Please."

"Fuck," he spits out the word. "I might cave this time, Benny, but not always, okay?" He looks up and into my eyes. I nod repeatedly.

"Yep, understood. One hundred percent. Please just stretch me out faster. Yes!" I shout when he starts moving his finger in circles inside me. Less than a minute later, he's squeezing a second finger in next to his pointer finger, and I can't help but babble. "That's enough, two fingers is more than enough, and you know, I'm on PrEP so you can just fuck me right now, Chris. Okay? Please just fuck me right nooooooow ," I moan way too loudly when he bends his fingers and hits me right in the prostate.

I have to breathe hard to stave off my orgasm, but I manage it. Maybe it takes me a long moment to get my composure back, but eventually I lift off, wrap my arms around him, and flip us so he's the one flat on the bed with me on top of him now.

"Yes, Benny. I'm on PrEP too." His voice sounds breathless, and his chest is heaving. Good to know he's going just as insane as I am.

"Good, now give me your third finger while I lube you up. And make it quick, Chris."

He grins up at me. "Whatever you want, baby."

"Good." I nod and reach for the lube. I let it drip onto the tip of his erection, then pump him a few times to get him all coated evenly.

I grunt, groan, and moan, as he follows my instructions and stretches me out to take him. He doesn't have the longest dick in the world, but he does have some girth to him, and that's all I need. I try to focus on what I'm doing, but he keeps thrusting his fingers just right, and I can't take it anymore.

I don't care if it'll sting more than necessary, I don't care about anything. I just rise up and forward, trying to ignore the sudden emptiness when his fingers slip out, and lower myself onto him.

"Yes." I moan as I slip down, and yeah, there's a bit of a sting but it's nothing compared to the pleasure of having him inside me again.

Once he's fully inside, I place my hands on each side of his face and focus on him again. He's smiling up at me, tender and soft. It makes me forget the need to come for a minute. I lean down and kiss him just as softly and take my time—licking his lips, licking into him, pulling his lower lip back with me. I bite just a little and get a groan for it as well as his strong hands on my ass. He has a firm grip and begins pulling me up and down slowly. The way his dick moves inside me, a little rough, brings the desperation back with a vengeance.

Just like that, lying on top of him so we're chest to chest, so I can feel every one of his breaths against my mouth, so his heartbeat reverberates against my chest, I start moving my hips up and down with him thrusting up and into me. I just bet his feet are steady on the mattress so he can thrust up into me, because the intensity just goes up and up. Until I can't kiss him anymore, until I need more, so I rise up and ride him just right for him to keep hitting that spot.

"Harder, Chris. Fuck me harder," I beg. His hands move to my hips and he starts helping me bounce so he can thrust into me as hard as we both need it. "Oh, yes, just there. Don't stop," I keep moaning.

"Won't stop, baby. Not until you come all over me, okay?"

I don't know where the thought, the need, the words come from, but nothing in the world could make me hold them back. "I need you to come inside me, Chris. You have to—" I can't get all the words out when he flips us around and slams into me with more force than ever before.

I can't do anything but lie there and take it as he breaks me into pieces, can't even find the strength to bring my hand to my dick, and it turns out I don't need to.

Because Chris brings his hand to my neck once more. He leans down and gives my cheek a wet kiss that makes me fucking mewl with need. "You're gonna come for me, baby Benny? You're gonna squeeze me tight so I fill you up?" he whispers against my face.

I can't answer because he squeezes my neck just enough for everything to go hazy again. It feels like I'm floating in space and then I'm falling endlessly as I come. My body shifts up the mattress with the force of his thrust until he stills above me and groans his pleasure, pressed completely to me. Just like he said, he fills me up, and never having felt that before, I realize it's something I won't want to give up any time soon.

Still unable to do anything more than exist, I just lie there and enjoy the feel of his sweaty chest against mine. We're both panting against each other, and again, I don't know where the hell the words come from, but I don't regret them either way .

"I really don't know what's up with that neck holding thing. It's the first time I've ever come hands free, but please tell me we can do it again."

There's a beat of silence where I worry, but then his body starts shaking with a silent laughter that comes out in all of its glory when he leans up.

"You're precious, baby Benny." He kisses me once before shuffling back on his knees and looking to where we're still connected. He slips out of me carefully and I feel the loss. It makes me wince for a fraction of a second, but then I feel his come sliding out of me and that's... interesting.

I don't hate it.

That's a good thing.

"Come on, let's get a quick shower then we can talk about the neck holding thing."

I snort. It sounds silly when he says it back to me, but I take his hand without thinking twice about it and follow him to my bathroom.

It gives me stupid butterflies that he remembers my apartment so well, and I probably need to tamp that down. I really don't feel like acting like an idiot again.

"You don't have anything but junk food, BB." Chris's voice is muffled a little, since he currently has his head buried in one of the kitchen cabinets.

I wince. "I know. I just got back from home and?—"

"I don't mind, I mean, I'm going to have to run an extra mile or two at the gym if we eat all of this." He stops and turns to me with a smile, holding up a bag of my favorite chips—the paprika chips. "But we can eat just one of the bags and order something." He shrugs.

I smile over at him, unable to stop the butterflies in my belly from going wild. I answer in the only way I know how. I accept there's no stopping the butterflies and just give in.

"I know a great burger place that delivers."

The smile I get in return is once again tender. It looks foreign in Chris's normally serious and intense face, and I cherish it because I don't think he hands those out easily.

"Awesome, order them and you can show me that fucking game you love so much while we wait for them."

I giggle at the thought of playing Mario Party with him. I jump a little on my feet as I walk over to him in the kitchen.

"Awesome, we need cokes, coasters, and the comforter."

"Why do we need the comforter?" he asks with a baffled look.

"So we're not even close to un comfortable on the couch, Chris, come on. Look alive." I clap my hands. "Get the comforter from my bed and I'll order the burgers and set everything up."

He shakes his head on his way back to the bedroom and I get busy. He's still shaking his head when he comes back. "Why is this so fucking heavy?" He's scowling as he drags my duvet over but I can just tell he's not really annoyed.

"Because I like to sleep with something heavy on top of me. I've been used to it all my life, since it's always so fucking cold at home."

"So you blast your air conditioning all over the apartment to be cold, only so you can cover yourself up?"

"Exactly," I say with a smile and nod as I walk to the living room with two chip bowls—one for each of us—and two glass bottles of Mexican Coke. The best Coke.

We settle down, turn on the console, and make sure the controllers are charged and ready for a fifty-turn game of Mario Party. Before we start though, I need to know, need to ask.

"Can you just tell me a little bit about the neck thing?"

That tender smile blooms on his face again and he fishes his hand out from under the comforter to cup my cheek—I really like it when he does that.

"It's called breath play. Or breath kink."

"Huh?" I ask. So it's a kink. That's... something I never thought I'd have.

"Yeah, there's a bunch of different ways in which people like breath play, but neck holding is, I'd say, the most common one. Maybe you should research it, learn about it on your own. I don't want you to think what I say is the law or anything like that, and I'll be more than happy to play with you all you want to find out what you like. But yeah, it can be dangerous when people do it without setting rules or boundaries."

"I guess that makes sense," I mumble and look down.

"What I did... squeezing tighter," he whispers, and slides his hand down to place it over my neck again. My pulse quickens instantly. Yup, I have a kink . "Maybe I shouldn't have done that, since you could've reacted to it very badly, and I won't be doing it again until we talk about it more once you've done your research, okay baby?"

"Yeah, okay." I look up again, trying to tell him with my eyes that he did nothing wrong, at least not in my opinion. I lean in slowly, so his hand doesn't slip away— I really, really like it there —and press my lips to his firmly, and for a long moment I focus on every millimeter of my skin that touches him.

When I lean back I look into his dark eyes for a second, then just for funsies I steal another quick kiss.

"Let me show you the most fun game in the history of games."

He scoffs and settles back against the couch. "Now I've got some high expectations."

The smile stays firmly in place the whole three hours that we spend playing. Even when we take a break shortly after starting to eat our burgers—two for each—I can't take my eyes away from him.

When, by some miracle, he beats me at the soda-can minigame—the one in which you have to grip the whole controller and move your hand as if you're giving the world's fastest, hardest, and most intense handjob—I can only stare at him in wonder.

"I can't wait to see how fast you can make me come with your hand," I quip and make him let out a belly laugh. It's sexy as fuck, so I tackle him to the couch and kiss the daylights out of him.

Out of patience, we just pull down the sweatpants we'd put on, and once again he holds my neck—even though he doesn't squeeze this time—and it has me spilling all over him as we both come, frotting right there.

The absolute best thing—besides the orgasms—is the fact that he demands we finish the game after. It's late when we fall asleep, dragging ourselves and the comforter back to the bedroom with us. It all feels so normal.

It feels like... No, you dumbass. You're not gonna say it, not even gonna think it. It's too fucking soon. I concede that point to the mean voice in my head and fall asleep with Chris's arms wrapped around me.

We wake up in the same position after noon, and I'm sad when Chris says he has to go home to change and get to work.

"I get it," I say with a sigh. "Thanks for leaving last night with me. I know I didn't give you any notice and you're gonna have to catch up today which will probably be a pain in the a?—"

He shuts me up with a kiss. Perfect.

"It's okay, baby Benny. I don't regret it at all."

"Will you go out on a date with me?" I blurt out, my mouth getting away from me by calling it a date so officially, but it's what I want.

So I wait, holding my breath for his answer. He looks truly surprised and a little dazed, but he nods.

"Yeah," he whispers.

"When?" I ask, way too eager now.

"Monday," he answers just as fast.

"Perfect." I bounce on my toes. "I'll let you know the plan I come up with."

He nods silently, kisses my cheek and my lips once, then walks out of my apartment.

Just like that, I remember what I have to do.

No, I don't mean talking to Bates and being mature and talking things through. I have no idea how I could ever live through the embarrassment of having to tell my best friend I thought I was in love with him. I definitely don't mean that.

I rush to my room and dig out my laptop from my travel backpack and get to work on my research project.