Notes: And now…the happy reunion. This post is R-rated, my sweets, don’t like, don’t read. Then again, this is an erotica blog. What are you doing here if you don’t like happy reunions? And hey, Bostonians! (looking at you, luz) I need advice on a good bar close to their part of the city. Not far from the Brighton campus of Boston College, on Strathmore Road. Bar? Plz thnk u!
Title: Love Letters
Part Nineteen: Time Honored Hazing Rituals Pt. 1
The trip to the third floor took a little longer than Ben had anticipated, because Ryan stopped on every landing to turn around and check that he was still there, despite the fact that he was holding on to Ben’s free hand. The second time he did it Ben said, “Good thing you’re not Orpheus or I’d be on my way back to the underworld right now.”
Ryan grinned and kissed him again. “Would that make you my Euridyce? What was she anyway, some kind of nymph?” Ryan looked him up and down. “You’re hot, but you’re not exactly a nymph.”
“No,” Ben agreed. “Not quite. There’s the whole issue of me being male, for starters.”
Ryan tilted his head as he opened the door, questioning. “There were no male nymphs?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What about Narcissus?”
“Totally human, just the victim of his own gratuitous self-awareness.” Ryan led the way into the apartment and Ben followed, looking around with interest. It was…so much different than his place. The walls were each painted a different color, the large mirror over the battered red couch in the living room was sepia-toned and set in a frame made out of rusted saw blades, and there was art everywhere. Some of it was obviously Ryan’s, paintings done in his style with dramatic shifts in tone and shape, others were famous prints or pieces that Ben just didn’t recognize. In the corner was a plaster sculpture of a Dali-esque elephant, almost six feet tall on its spindly legs. It had a jacket thrown over the top of it, and all Ben could see of its head was an ear. The air was filled with the scent of frying onions and garlic, and it smelled warm and delicious. He set his bag down next to the door and just stared, trying to take all of it in.
His brain came back online when Ryan asked, “What about…oh, who was that one, he was Apollo’s lover and a jealous god killed him and so Apollo made him a flower?”
Oh, right. Their conversation. Ben thought for a moment. “That was Hyacinth. No, he was just another pretty boy, not a nymph.”
“What the hell?” a new voice demanded. “Nymphs? Is that what a girl got to do to get an introduction around here, Ryan, run around wearing nothing but a few fig leaves?” She moved into the middle of the room, and promptly took up the entire space with the force of her presence.
She was tall for a woman, at least as tall as Ryan, and had a broad, curvy figure that suited her wide shoulders and hips. She had caramel colored skin and hair in tight, tiny braids hanging halfway down her back. The combination of a perfect bow of a mouth and a pierced Romanesque nose gave her not beautiful, but statuesque features. She wore bright red pants, a low-cut black top and a set of jewelry made from carved wooden beads. Her face was caught somewhere between surprise and wary welcome, and Ben couldn’t blame her for being wary.
“Not unless you really want to,” Ryan teased her, oblivious to the stare-off between the two of them. “Ben, this is Jasmine Napuna, she’s my publisher and my publicist and my editor and my roommate and my life coordinator…basically everything except my you. Jasmine, this is Ben DeWitt, my boyfriend.” Ben had expected Ryan to call him that, but it still felt stupidly good to hear him say it.
They shook hands. She had a very firm grip. It wasn’t quite like meeting a parent, but close enough that Ben had to fight to keep a blush off his face. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he told her.
“You too,” she said, keeping hold of his hand past where it would have been normal to let go. “Wow, Ben in the flesh. I was starting to wonder if maybe you weren’t a computer program that Ryan had set up to text him back at all hours.”
“What?” Ryan threw his hands out, mock-offended. “Because I couldn’t get a boyfriend, is that what you’re saying?”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I know you could get one of those, they’re a dime a dozen. No, because no one could possibly be as perfect as Ben,” she said, batting her eyelashes and finally letting go of Ben’s hand.
“Really, you’re all he talks about,” she continued, looking Ben over. “If you’re half as amazing as he says you are, I expect rainbow to fly out of your butt at any minute.”
Ryan punched her in the shoulder. “God, would you shut up?” He looked embarrassed now, so Ben stepped in.
“Oh yeah. Rainbows, four leaf clovers, pots of gold; my ass is like one big lucky charm, but the only one who gets to see it is Ryan, so you’re out of luck, I’m afraid.”
Jasmine looked a little taken aback for a moment, then grinned. “I guess I can live with that.” She turned to Ryan and punched him back. “And you worried that we wouldn’t get along.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Ryan scoffed, but neither Ben nor Jasmine believed him.
“How long are you staying?” Jasmine asked Ben.
“Probably about a week.” Ben was aware that while Ryan was very happy to see him, the man had roommates who might not care for his unannounced company, especially not for long. “It’s not entirely a social visit; I’ve got research to do as well. I won’t be in the way.”
“You wouldn’t be in the way no matter what,” Ryan said earnestly, and Ben smiled at him. It was…nice, and kind of novel, to feel so wanted. Even when he’d been living on his own and came back to visit his mother and grandfather, he hadn’t wanted to stay in the house. It had just seemed…intrusive. Awkward.
Jasmine just shrugged. “You don’t have to explain it to me, I’m glad you’re here. This one’s been pining for you.”
“Seriously, you should ask to see the painting he’s working on right now.”
She turned and headed back into the kitchen. “I’m making red rice and chicken for dinner, it’ll be done in another hour or so. I’m sure Ryan wants to give you the five-cent tour, so come out whenever you guys get hungry and we’ll eat, and then we’ll go meet Lennie and Grant at the bar.”
“Are you sure there’s enough food for a third person?” Ben asked. “I can always find something else…”
Jasmine came back to the kitchen door, arms folded. “Does it look like anyone in my house goes hungry? There’s always enough.”
“It’s true,” Ryan said. “She always makes more than we can eat. The fridge is full of leftovers.”
“I don’t hear you complaining.”
“Because I would never dare,” Ryan said solemnly, tugging as Ben’s wrist as he stepped backward. “Come on. Tour.”
Ben followed Ryan around the apartment as he pointed things out hurriedly. “Living room, dining room, you know where the kitchen is, Lennie and Grant’s bedroom, their bathroom, Jasmine’s bedroom, the laundry nook, here’s the bathroom she and I share, this is the bedroom I made into my studio, and here,” Ryan pushed Ben through a bright blue door and shut it behind them, “is my bedroom.”
It was, somehow, even more colorful than the rest of the house. There was no such thing as a neutral tone in Ryan’s life. His bedspread was purple, the curtains were a black and red chessboard pattern, and the walls were barely visible under the vast number of pictures that were hung or pinned on them. The effect was a little discordant for someone used to plain white with the occasional period portrait or demure landscape, but Ben was sure he’d get used to it.
He started to turn to say something to Ryan—what he wasn’t sure—but instead he was tackled down onto the double bed. Ryan straddled his hips and grinned manically. His enthusiasm was catching and Ben grinned back, then groaned when Ryan ground down against him.
“You’re in my room,” Ryan said, leaning in and kissing Ben’s cheek, trailing over to his ear and catching Ben’s earlobe between his teeth for a moment. “In my bed.” He nipped and nibbled his way down Ben’s neck, only stopping once he reached the collar of Ben’s shirt. “I’ve pictured you here so many times. This is way better, except in my mind,” he pressed his palm against the front of Ben’s pants, rubbing his growing erection, “you were always naked.”
“I can do naked,” Ben promised. “But you have to get up first.”
“That is a conundrum,” Ryan said, starting in on the buttons on Ben’s shirt. “Because I really don’t want to get up. God, why do you wear such complicated clothes? I mean, I love you in them, but it takes for fucking ever to get them off—”
“Stand up,” Ben said. Ryan looked up at him and pouted. “No, really. Trust me.” Ryan sighed but backed off and let Ben up. He stood, dropped his coat to the floor, pulled his button-down over his head and kicked off his slacks in under ten seconds. “Better?” he asked, flopping back onto the very comfortable bed.
Ben ran his palm lightly against the outline of his cock, still trapped inside his cotton briefs. He wasn’t given to being wanton, to making a display out of his sexuality, but somehow being with Ryan knocked out a lot of Ben’s natural inhibitions. “Now who’s the one holding things up?” he asked.
Ryan flung his clothes off and crawled back onto the bed, stopping at Ben’s waist to wrap one arm around his hips while the other slowly pulled down the edge of his briefs, every millimeter of skin at Ryan’s mercy as he nuzzled and licked. Ben’s breathing got shallower and shallower, and when Ryan finally put his lips on the warm skin of Ben’s cock Ben had to stop breathing for a moment, because he was only human and he hadn’t been touched by anyone other than himself for the past month, and oh god, this was Ryan licking the head of his cock, desperate noises emerging from his throat as he didn’t slow down, taking Ben into his mouth and down, way faster than Ben had been expecting.
“Ryan…” Ben’s voice trailed off when Ryan’s hot hand slipped behind his balls, his thumb rubbing lightly over the sensitive skin there. The briefs were in the way now and Ben wiggled until they were off, gone, out of the way, what a completely unnecessary piece of clothing anyway. Ryan sucked as he lifted up, then relaxed and took Ben almost all the way in on the way down. He hummed and touched and licked and Ben was going to lose it, he absolutely was, and there was almost nothing he wanted more than to give in and give Ryan what they both wanted right now, but first…
It might have been strange, but Ben wanted more. Or at least, different, for their first time back together. Seeing Ryan’s mouth circling his cock was amazing, but he wanted to see his eyes, wanted to kiss him again, wanted some part of him to hold onto. “Wait,” he stammered, “wait, come up here, Ryan…baby, come up here.”
Ryan whined but he did it, leaving Ben’s cock with a pop and moving eagerly into Ben’s arms, latching onto his mouth immediately. Ben pulled Ryan tight against him and oh, fuck, Ryan was slick, his own cock rigidly hard and wet with a smear of precome. Ryan rutted against him, tight, tiny thrusts that rubbed their cocks together in just the right way, and fuck, Ben wasn’t going to have to use his hand, he wasn’t going to have to do anything, he couldn’t. All he could do was moan into Ryan’s mouth and come helplessly, arching and wrapping his legs around Ryan’s ass, eliciting a gasp and another flood of heat between them as Ryan joined him.
They didn’t move for a long time, just held each other and tried to catch their breath. Ryan had his face buried in the crook of Ben neck, his arms tight around his chest. Ben let his legs fall down but kept petting Ryan, unwilling to let go even to suggest they maybe take a shower and change before they got stuck together. Change…oh.
“I left it in the living room. It’s got all my clothes in it.”
“Clothes ‘r dumb,” Ryan said contentedly, wiggling even closer. “Don’t need ‘em.”
“Jasmine probably won’t agree.”
“Whatever, she thinks you’re hot. But you’re mine, so ha!” He sounded utterly gleeful, and Ben had to kiss him for it. One kiss turned into two, then more, many, lots, and they lost some more time in each other.
“I’ll get them in a minute,” Ryan promised when they paused for a moment. He looked gorgeous, his lips kiss swollen, pupils dilated, hair so messy it added three inches to his height. Adorable. Perfect. Like he didn’t want to be anywhere else, like he belonged in Ben’s arms.
Which he did.
“There’s no rush,” Ben said.