@wulfcop: ( WATCH ) watching mine while drinking their beverage.
Ben knows this isn’t normal. For one, he slept with friends all the time. Okay, slight rephrase. He’d hooked up with acquaintances before. Was Noah even his friend? Ben was probably a significant annoyance to him, at best. But sex didn’t equal feelings. Even if it had been really, really good. Mind-blowingly so. Maybe that was why he’d been thinking of him all week.
Yet his instinct had been to bolt straight after, avoiding even Shay until she’d demanded he show up today. Standing in the corner of the kitchen he’d been trying to avoid Noah in, it’s pretty clear why. Even the back of his neck is enough to fill Ben with want. To run his hands through his hair, and slowly down his back. Across the healing marks he knew weren’t caused by anything human. To tell him he was okay with that. Ben wants Noah to see him. To want him back.
Technically, the Romantic poets weren’t talking about a one night stand with a guy who might or might not be your pal when they wrote about heartache. Ben always cared too much, too easily. So he does the grown-up thing to do, and sulks about it. It’s the fourth time glancing over his way when Ben catches Noah staring. Any resolve he had to keep his distance is quick to crumble. Head versus heart had a nice ring to it, but it didn’t quite articulate the part of Ben that wanted Noah to pick him up and slam him through the drywall. It’s easy enough to slyly send a text under the table. Noah’s phone buzzes, and this time it’s Ben’s turn to stare.
[ txt : noah ] i can’t stop thinking about you [ txt : noah ] fucking me.