Ari melted into his arms at once without protest, even if Ben was being a tease about it, tugging him in with a hand in his hair and then being so gentle. Finally he kissed him properly, and, pleased, he curled his hands around Ben’s arms. “You’d better not be,” Ari answered, after that kiss; he let his lips graze along the edge of Ben’s jaw as he caught his breath, and all the teasing faded from his tone. “I’ll never be tired of you.”
That had to be true – and it demanded saying, every once in a while – because Ari sometimes still couldn’t believe his luck. There would never be anyone else for him but Ben. He had known that long enough. Nevertheless, he had lived so long believing this outcome to be impossible, for years, decades really, that sometimes Ari thought – in spite of all the evidence to the contrary – that it would take him decades to unlearn.
Nothing ever felt more real than this, though, the two of them alone, everything else forgotten; Ben’s lips warm on his, skin hot against his hands, the fire burning steady in him. Ari pulled them both through the bedroom until they were up against the edge of the bed, his hands already working at Ben’s trousers, just as torn tonight between moving fast or going slow.
That had to be true – and it demanded saying, every once in a while – because Ari sometimes still couldn’t believe his luck. There would never be anyone else for him but Ben. He had known that long enough. Nevertheless, he had lived so long believing this outcome to be impossible, for years, decades really, that sometimes Ari thought – in spite of all the evidence to the contrary – that it would take him decades to unlearn.
Nothing ever felt more real than this, though, the two of them alone, everything else forgotten; Ben’s lips warm on his, skin hot against his hands, the fire burning steady in him. Ari pulled them both through the bedroom until they were up against the edge of the bed, his hands already working at Ben’s trousers, just as torn tonight between moving fast or going slow.
