Page 97 of Rebound

“For my space, yes. But yours?”

Ben forked some egg into his mouth, a rough expression flashing across his face as he chewed. “I honestly love gold. As an accent.”

“Gold is a good color.”

“With something dark.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Like navy or green.”

“Sounds like a good start to things.”

Ben gave him a shy smile and Thomas forced himself through ingesting the cold eggs and coffee. They washed up together, and while Ben was freshening up in the bathroom, Thomas went into the bedroom and rearranged his drawers. Ben found him in there, the top right drawer in the dresser now open and empty.

“That one mine?” Ben asked, hip checking him.

“All yours.”

“Do I get the other nightstand too?”

“Only if you promise to keep the lube well stocked,” he said with a laugh.

“What if I wanted to fill this whole drawer with dildos?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m just asking.”

“It’s yours,” he said. “Do whatever you want with it.”

Ben went to Thomas’s underwear drawer and pulled it open, rifling around in the back until he found the small prostate massager. Thomas wanted to say he’d forgotten about the little thing, but he hadn’t. He just hadn’t had an occasion to use it, with Ben being as good with his hands as he was. Ben dropped the massager into the empty drawer and swiped his hands back and forth, like he’d just finished a task.

“You’re a fan of that one?” he asked.

“I’m a fan of using it on you.” Ben pushed the drawer closed. “Ready to go?”

“Very. I’ll drive.”

Thomas drove to the home store where he’d bought his sheets. It wasn’t a name brand, top-of-the-line place, but it wasn’t cheap either. Ben grabbed his hand as soon as they were out of the car, but he let Thomas lead the way into the bed section. He pointed out the sheets that he’d bought, and Ben threw them in the cart, taking control and steering them toward the small furniture section in the back corner.

“What do you think about this?” Ben asked him, coming to stop at a pair of side tables with white tops and sharp gold bars making up the sides.

“What do you think about them?” he asked.

Ben huffed. “If I didn’t like them, I wouldn’t ask your opinion.”

“It’s your apartment. I have no opinion.”

Thomas didn’t like the tables. They were awkwardly shaped and would look horrible with Ben’s couch, but that was for Ben to learn—or not—and not for him to say.

“I wish the gold parts were a little thinner and like…” Ben drew an angular shape from the bottom of the table to the top.

“Then wait and see if you find something you like more.” He rested his chin on Ben’s shoulder and kissed his ear. “Don’t settle.”

“You’re right.” Ben smiled and headed further down the aisle. Thomas took the cart and followed behind him, seeing plenty of things he himself liked that Ben brushed by without a second look.

Good.

“This one is nice.” Ben reached out and dragged his finger across another white table, this one wrapped with thin metal rods twisted into triangles and hexagons. It was complicated and messy, but simple at the same time. Thomas didn’t hate it, but he kept his face neutral. Ben flicked his stare from the table to Thomas and back again.

“They have a coffee table that matches it,” he offered, pointing a little farther down the aisle.