“You don’t mind?” Tim asked, still adorably uncertain.
Ben answered by taking it into his mouth. Tim tensed up but then immediately relaxed again, letting himself enjoy the sensations Ben was giving him. Tim was certainly one of the most appreciative recipients of his favors. He moaned approvingly and ran his fingers through Ben’s hair as he worked.
Soon Tim’s hips began thrusting and his moans became louder and more insistent. He bucked wildly as he came, Ben struggling to keep him inside his mouth.
“No more, no more, stop!” Tim panted, pulling Ben off of him.
Ben unwillingly receded. This was the part that he hated the most. His own cock was painfully begging for release, both from the confines of his jeans and sexually, but his mind was already troubled by the awkward moment to come. Sometimes the guy just went back to pretending he was asleep, or if it had started when they were awake, would find some pretense to distance himself. Any second now Tim would say he had to use the restroom or feign some other important thing that he had to do, anything to get away from the gay guy he had just used.
“Fuck, that was good,” Tim said, still trying to catch his breath. “Man. I have to take a piss.”
“That’s cool,” Ben said casually as Tim pulled his shorts back up and left the room.
He pondered leaving as he waited. It was usually less awkward that way. The toilet flushed and Tim’s crutches squeaked their way back over to the couch.
“I guess I should get back,” Ben said, starting to stand.
“What?” Tim laughed. “You’re crazy.” He shoved Ben back onto the couch and tossed his crutches aside, falling with his full weight onto Ben. He growled menacingly and wrestled Ben onto his back, kissing him again.
Ben’s heart swelled with happy surprise, but not as much as his cock did when Tim’s hand suddenly grabbed onto it.
“Your turn,” he whispered seductively into Ben’s ear.
Tim slid to the side, pulled up Ben’s shirt and undid his jeans, ripping them along with Ben’s underwear down to his knees in a motion that was anything but gentle.
“Nice,” he said appreciatively as he took hold of Ben with one strong hand and began pumping.
He pushed Ben’s shirt up further and licked one of his nipples before moving upward to kiss him on the mouth. Their tongues danced together as Ben struggled to breathe. He was getting close and opened his eyes, wanting to tell Tim what was going to happen. He found Tim’s eyes locked fiercely on his own and didn’t last long after that, soaking his stomach and even his chest.
Tim grinned. “I’ll grab a towel,” he said. “And then you’re going to cook for me,” he added matter-of-factly.
Ben watched him go, his head still spinning from all that had just happened. The sex had been incredible, but what really sent his heart soaring had been the kissing. He felt certain that he had, after all these years of yearning and wanting, finally met someone who could love him back.
* * * * *
Nothing had happened between Ben and Tim, or so it felt. They passed the evening much as they always did. A horror movie about killer puppets entertained them while they ate chili. Afterwards Tim put on a few CDs while they talked; a B-side collection of Nirvana followed by the Smashing Pumpkins. Ben barely heard the music; instead he pondered how Tim was taking it all in stride.
The subject didn’t come up again. Inside, Ben felt like he was going to explode. So many emotions were stirring within him, all of them positive and excited. If Tim felt something similar, he managed to hide it well.
Sleep didn’t come easy that night. Tim didn’t want to struggle with the stairs, so he stayed on the couch. Ben made himself a bed of blankets, placing them as near the couch as possible. As he listened to the sound of Tim’s slow, rhythmic breathing, he fantasized about sharing a bed with him. They would whisper pleasantries to each other before kissing goodnight and holding each other in sleep.
The next morning Ben found himself roused by his friend and then quickly aroused. Tim pulled him forcibly onto the couch, kissing him deeply and grinding against him, leading to a replay of the day before.
“Guess we should get the place cleaned up,” Tim said once they had both caught their breath.
“I wish your parents were going to be gone another week,” Ben sighed wistfully.
“Yeah, me too.”
Tim felt well enough by now that he was able to help with the chores. By noon the house was as tidy as could be expected when left in the hands of a teenager.
“You should probably get going. Just in case they catch an early flight or something.”
Dread stirred in Ben’s stomach. He had his own parents to face today, and he was sure it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Look,” Tim began, but it was almost a minute before he continued. “What happened between us, well…”
Ben perked up, giving him his full attention.
“It’s probably best we keep it a secret,” Tim said, reaching behind to scratch his head while grinning nervously. “I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
“Wrong idea?” Ben repeated.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Tim backpedaled. “I just don’t want people thinking I'm gay, when I’m not.”
It took every ounce of Ben’s willpower to keep his face straight in light of this statement. “Okay,” he said. “Not a big deal.”
In reality it was a big deal, but he could handle it. If having Tim meant doing everything gay with him but calling it straight, why not? He could just play it off as some sort of kinky role-playing game. Unless of course, Tim intended that this never happened again. As cliché as the question was, Ben couldn’t help but ask, “So are you going to call me?”
“Yeah, totally!” Tim answered enthusiastically. “We’re buds.” The way he stated this was friendly, but there was a hint of a silent ‘only’ there in the middle.
“Cool,” Ben replied. “I’m off, then. Good luck with your parents when they get here.”
“Good luck with yours! I hope you won’t be in too much trouble.” Tim reached out and mussed Ben’s hair as if he were sending his kid off to school.
Ben left the house with a smile on his face. His future with Tim was uncertain, he was facing the reaming of his life from his parents, and he was forbidden to see his best friend, and yet Ben had never been happier.
__________
Chapter 9
The school gymnasium, forever marred by shoe scuffs and perfumed with sweat, was lined on one side by a long hallway. This led either to the locker rooms or into the gymnasium itself if you pushed open the two swinging doors set with small windows. These allowed Ben to peer through and see that volleyball was being played today. Not one of his favorite sports, but not as bad as some of the others. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to enter, even though first period had started twenty minutes ago.
Ben had chosen to skate to school instead of taking the bus and had arrived late, despite his intention of attending all of his classes, as he had promised his mother yesterday. When he had arrived home on Sunday, he thought he would be greeted with screams and punishments. Instead things were unsettlingly calm. His father had been the first to see him, pulling a comical “look out!” face that warned his wife wasn’t too pleased with their son.
Except his mother hadn’t been all that angry. She met Ben in his bedroom, sat down, and very carefully said, “You are getting to an age where we can’t control you anymore. In less than two years you will be living on your own. I hope you will be going to college. If you chose to do so, we will help support you. If not, then you are on your own. Until then, you will go to all of your classes and you won’t drink or do drugs in this household.”