Page 15 of The Long Refrain (Sweet Southern #4)

15

BENJI

FEbrUARY 2028

E verything cannot be perfect forever. After four weeks in Clay Springs, Nolan has made so much progress. Medicine and therapy and not pushing me away. But I know more than anyone that bad days come with good days, especially after seeing how much my mom has struggled with depression over the past twenty-something years.

So when Nolan can’t get out of bed one day, I know all I can do is try to take care of him. There’s no cure-all fix to depression and anxiety; there’s no pill that’ll fix it so every day is perfect and cloud-free. But the bad days come far less frequently and are easier to handle when the good days outweigh the bad.

I busy myself making bland toast and a cup of peppermint tea in the kitchen, knowing that Nolan would drink it if I brought it to him. My phone buzzes in my pocket and it must be my mama because I texted her to update her on everything.

“Hi, Mama,” I say into the phone, tucking it between my cheek and shoulder.

“He just won’t get out of bed?” Mama asks without any sort of greeting.

“Nope.”

“Just feed him.”

“I know. Toast and peppermint tea.”

Mama updates me on a few of the people at the commune, all but begging me to come for a visit. Now isn’t the time, and when I tell her so, she’s understanding as always. I do want to take Nolan to visit them; I think meeting my mom would help him a lot. But right now isn’t the time, and it has to be the right time for that scenario. I don’t want to scare him away with my mother’s stories about me streaking across the lawn at five years old because I’d decided clothes were not for me.

“Are you taking care of yourself too?” Mama asks quietly, in the most gentle way only she can.

I pause as I touch the hot side of the mug. “As best I can.”

“It’s important to take care of yourself, too, to allow others to care for you. Can I send you one of my care packages? I’ll make those cookies you like.”

“Snickerdoodles?” I ask hopefully.

“Yes, mijo.”

“Okay.”

Mama sighs softly, sounding oddly lonely. “I’ll get it to you this weekend. Enough for Nolan, too. We love you, you know that, right?”

“Yes, always.”

“Alright. Go take care of him, lie with him, kiss his forehead. Leave him alone if he asks you to. Okay?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Good boy.” Then we say goodbye, and I carry the toast and tea back into the bedroom where Nolan lies frozen on the bed. I only know he's even there by the black tufts of hair appearing from underneath the quilts against the pillow. After placing the toast and tea on the bedside table, I crawl under the quilts beside him, pulling the blanket over my head so we’re cocooned together in the warmth Nolan’s body has created.

“Hi,” I whisper.

Nolan blinks slowly and licks his lips. “Hi.”

“I brought you toast and tea.”

“Okay.”

“Can I do anything else?”

Nolan slowly reaches his hand out to tangle his fingers with my own against the cool of the pillow under my head. His fingers are so warm, so alive that my heart settles just a little at the reminder of life.

“Just be here. I’m sorry… I felt so much better…”

“It’s okay. It’s normal. You’ll have good days and bad days. Life.”

“Do you have bad days?” Nolan asks seriously.

“Probably… I just guess they’re so far and few between that I don’t notice them much. Usually, when I have a bad day, I work out or go for a hike or do something, anything to get my mind off of it.”

Nolan’s eyebrows furrow, and he moves closer, slipping his thigh over my hip. I drop my hand down to cup his thigh. His hand comes up to rest against my face, his thumb rubbing under my eye.

“I wanna tell you something very badly, but now isn’t the right time.”

“Okay,” I say softly, even though my heart could fly out of my chest.

His dark brown eyes bore into mine, and that’s when I know he doesn’t even need to say it. Just like I don’t need to say it. It’s just there, just known. I love him, and he loves me. For now, that’s enough.

“It’s okay, Nolan. I know.”

Nolan closes his eyes with a soft sigh and dips his head forward to press his forehead against mine. He rocks his head back and forth a few times, breath ghosting over my face. It’s stale and awful, but I don’t care because it’s just another reminder that he’s so very real in my arms.

“Will you eat the toast and drink the tea for me? Then maybe I can just hold you for a while, until it gets to be too much?”

Nolan answers by sitting up, my T-shirt hanging off of his thin frame, dipping to reveal his jutting collarbone. I lean over to grab his tea and toast, and when I return I press a warm kiss to that collarbone that’s always so distracting. Nolan dutifully eats and sips until he’s had enough and shoves it back into my waiting hands. Then I cuddle him back down into the bed, holding him as closely as I can. Just doing my best to let him know that I’m here and this is just where I want to be.

“Talk to me?” Nolan asks, voice soft and vulnerable.

Gently dancing my hand up and down his spine, I smile when he shivers and moves in closer against my body. “The first time I saw you in that hotel room, my heart skipped about ten beats. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“And then I opened my mouth,” Nolan says tiredly.

“Nah,” I quickly disagree. “You just got more beautiful. I like it when you argue with me, when you bite back, when you tell me what you want. I like giving you what you want.”

“I know, stud.” Nolan’s warm breath ghosts over my neck and his fingers dig into the small of my back. “I knew I was in trouble when I saw you. That you were different.”

God. The vulnerability in his voice still shakes me to my core. All these months and I think he’s still worried that I’ll hurt him, that he can’t trust me with his most inner thoughts.

“Well, it ended up pretty okay, right?” I bury my face in his messy hair, breathing in the still somehow smoky scent of him.

“Yeah, I think maybe it did.”

“Mmm.”

“Did you ever fuck Jackson?”

The laughter is so hard and immediate that Nolan pulls away slightly to aim his bleary dark brown eyes up at me. I can’t help but dip down to kiss him, a closed-mouth kind of kiss that echoes intimacy more than anything else. Tenderness and softness are two things I never thought I’d have with Nolan.

I press my forehead against Nolan’s. “We tried once. Didn’t work.”

“’Cause you’re both tops?”

This time, the laughter hurts. “Yeah, I guess. That and well… we’re just too similar I think. What do you call me? A golden retriever? It’s just two golden retrievers running in circles, and I piss him off, and then he riles me up… we’re better off as friends.” I pause as I run my hand through Nolan’s messy hair, thinking about Jackson and my other friends. “I kept them at a distance for a really long time. Can’t really say why. I love them, and they love me, but I think I’ve always felt like the odd one out. I never really belonged growing up… at the commune. I’ve always had trouble finding a place to belong.”

Nolan stares at me so hard, his gaze unblinking, that for one long moment I’m worried maybe this is the thing that does us in. But all Nolan does is reach up and delicately run his fingers over my cheek.

“You belong with me,” Nolan says firmly.

I swallow against the sudden lump in my throat. “I know.”

“Enough talking now,” Nolan says as he closes his eyes and snuggles back against me. “Hold me as I sleep away all the bad thoughts. You always make them go away.”

“Alright, angel.”

Nolan sighs happily at the nickname, and in moments, he’s back asleep in my embrace, and I feel beyond sure that I hold my entire universe on this small cedar-scented bed in Clay Springs.

Nolan and I spent two days in bed. I left him alone for the length of a solitary run, only to come back to try to ply him with food. I’ve always found joy in cooking, but cooking for Nolan brings me a sort of peace that’s hard to explain. Maybe it’s because making food for him is the easiest way for me to pour my love into him without frightening him away. Other times, all he wanted was to be held, for me to talk to him, and I was more than happy to comply. Finally, on the third day, he woke up, took a shower, and grabbed his guitar before fleeing to the living room. It felt like some huge weight fell off my shoulders just at the sight of him out of the bed.

And, of course over the two days, my friends dropped care baskets off at the door. My favorite was the basket from Harper, which was full of freshly baked muffins in a bunch of different flavors and a book full of crude jokes that Nolan still refuses to let me read. I think Jackson and I are in a load of trouble when it comes to Nolan and Harper, because some of the few times I’ve seen something resembling a smile is when Nolan is seemingly texting with Harper.

“You’re doing that thing,” Nolan says from the passenger seat. I glance over at him to find his eyebrows furrowed, lips tugged down in a thoughtful frown. “You’re thinking very hard about something.”

“Thinking about you.”

Nolan huffs a small laugh. “About how much you wish you could get rid of me.”

I almost veer off the road. What the hell? “No, Nolan, I never think that.”

Nolan just hums and leans back harder in the seat. When he angles his head away from me, I can clearly see the hard bob of his throat as he swallows. There’s something he’s not telling me, something he’s not asking me, but I don’t know what. Mind reading has never been my strongest ability, that’s more Trevor’s style. His therapy session today was long, and he’d returned to me a little more mellow than normal. But I know how that goes.

“Nolan, do you need me to say it? I’ll say it. I’ll say it first, I don’t care.”

His head pings toward me so fast I’m afraid he’s given himself whiplash. Tears line his eyes, and he looks so fucking raw that my heart cracks wide open. Not like the day on the balcony, but maybe the days before, when he was so haunted by something he didn’t know how to tell me.

The county road leading to Clay Springs spans in front of us, empty and desolate, so I do the only thing I can do. I pull over onto the side of the road. A farmhouse dots the horizon, and a few horses roam free, suddenly paying attention to the vehicle on the side of the road. Nolan’s frozen, eyes wide, as I hop out of the car to come over to his side.

But suddenly, all I care about is making sure, without a doubt, that Nolan knows how I feel.

Ripping the car door open, I grab his hands in mine and dip my head until he’s forced to meet my gaze.

“What happened in therapy today?”

Nolan’s jaw tightens, and he shakes his head. “Benji…”

“Talk to me.”

He sighs softly as I hold his gaze. “Nothing, I just… I feel like I’m hurting you. I feel like… I don’t know, Benji. I don’t want to be like your mom.”

“You’re nothing like my mom,” I say, hoping desperately to reassure him. All he does is roll his eyes. “I love my mom so much, and her depression and her struggles are a part of her. I can’t pick or choose parts of people to love. And… and…” I take a deep breath and puff out my cheeks because really, on the side of the road after a therapy session is when I tell fucking Nolan Hastings that I’d burn the world down for him. “I love every single part of you. Okay? Okay. Don’t say it back. I don’t want to hear it yet. Not until you want to say it, but I needed you to know. So you don’t… don’t question things anymore. Just, I fucking love you. Every part. Every version. Okay?”

Nolan’s jaw clenches hard for one long moment, before he releases a sound that’s a mix between a cry and some sort of sigh of relief. He wraps his thin arms around my shoulders and tugs me in until my cheek is squished against the warm material of his hoodie. The hoodie that smells like me and him. Like us.

“I’m a piece of shit,” Nolan says with a shaky voice.

“Don’t say that about the man I love.”

“I’m scared about when the real world comes back,” Nolan admits into my hair, voice wrecked and terrified. “When… when the label makes me make a decision. When people find out I’m here. I don’t want to leave the bubble. I don’t want people to know I’m fucked up.”

My heart cracks in half at the shake in his voice, the fear making his body tremble. I tighten my arms around him and try to meld our bodies together so I can make him feel safe, even just for a moment.

“We’ll tackle it together when we need to. You’re not alone anymore. And Chris will do anything for you.”

Nolan’s ribs expand with a large sigh. “I have to talk to Chris… I’ve been ignoring his calls.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I know, Benji.” Nolan presses a kiss to my temple, lips lingering in the way he often does. “Take me home now, please?”

I pull out of his grip, take his cheeks between my palms, and tug him to me to kiss him soft and slow. He tastes like peppermints, and I know it’s because therapy makes him nauseous, and the mints help. But he still tastes just like my Nolan, like something soft and spicy. My man. His eyes stay closed when I pull away. I try to capture the moment to remember forever, the moment I told him I loved him, and he didn’t fight me back.

Like usual, Nolan curls up in bed to sleep after a therapy session. I sit beside him for a while, brushing my fingers through his hair that desperately needs a cut. When it’s short, it curls ever so slightly and he tucks it behind his ears when plucking at the guitar. But when it’s this length, it hides his eyes that are the window to his soul. No matter the length, the strands are baby-soft and fine, easily slipping through my fingers on each stroke.

His phone vibrates on the bed between us and I hurriedly pick it up before it can wake him. I sit still, waiting for him to move because sleep is so hard for him to come by, but his eyes stay closed, fingers curled gently into the pocket of my sweatpants. Eyelashes fluttering softly, he lets out a soft sigh in his sleep, then rolls over onto his stomach to starfish out on the bed.

I carefully climb out of the bed, and swipe the screen on his phone to see twenty missed calls from Chris. Jesus. No one else has reached out to him over the past few weeks, just notification upon notification from Chris. I should’ve called him sooner.

Pocketing Nolan’s phone, I grab my own and head out to the living room. After closing the door softly behind me, I curl up on the sofa under a blanket and dial Chris.

“Is he okay?” Chris asks urgently.

“As okay as he can be,” I admit, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. “He’s doing better. Therapy exhausts him though, and it’s a lot of work. I don’t want to violate his privacy, but, Chris, you have to find a way for the tour to be done.”

Chris huffs an annoyed grunt. “What do you think I’ve been doing since New Year’s, kid? I don’t give a fuck about the label. I don’t even really give a shit about the fans. I care about that boy who’s now solely under your protection.”

“Chris—”

“Listen,” Chris says slowly, making me freeze on the sofa. “I have a kid in college and a kid currently in high school. I’m old enough to be Nolan’s father. I love him like one of my own. Telling him that is out of the fucking cards though because he wouldn’t believe it even if I said it. You know that though, right?”

Yeah, I do fucking know that. I’m still not sure Nolan believed a single word of my love declaration on the side of the road. I know how he is, but I’m starting to think maybe he just needs people to say it even if they’re scared of his reaction.

“I told him I loved him,” I admit quietly.

Chris goes quiet for a few moments before asking, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“And he… he was fine?”

“He hugged me after,” I say with a small shrug. “I think he’s at the point where telling him these things might help more than hurt. But also actions speak louder than words with him, right? You got him here with me, maybe that tells him more than anything.”

“I wish he’d speak to me,” Chris mumbles into the phone.

“Maybe he’s worried about the label. I can’t speak for him. But just back off a little and give him time, I’ve got him.”

“You’re a good kid.”

I laugh lightly, because sure. “I try. Also, the contract is null and void now. You know that, right?”

Chris lets out a large sigh. “I figured. You don’t want any payment?”

I look toward the bedroom, toward where my future is sound asleep. “Nah. I’ve got my payment.”

We both sit quietly for a while as Chris thinks over everything I’ve said. No noise comes from the bedroom, so I’m pretty sure Nolan is still fast asleep, thank God because he’d definitely go into a fit of rage if he knew the conversation we were having right now. But Nolan’s entrusted his care to me, so I’ve got to let Chris know everything is fine.

“I’ll show up in town once I’ve got news from the label. I’ll want to see him,” Chris whispers into the phone. Jesus, the man sounds like he’s crying. “You won’t tell him we spoke?”

“And risk his wrath? I think not,” I say around a laugh.

“Touché.”

And then Chris hangs up, and I sit quietly for a while, before rejoining Nolan in the bedroom. When I lie down beside him, he shuffles closer out of instinct and burrows himself into my arms, and somehow even further into my already gone heart.

“Harper is taking me into town,” Nolan says the next day, out of the blue.

I blink slowly at him. “Okay. Now?”

Nolan tugs on one of my sweatshirts, nodding when his head pops through. “Yes, now. I want to do some things. Without you.”

“Okay, that’s fine. You can do anything without me. That’s cool. That’s chill.”

Nolan walks back over to where I sit on the couch and pats my head like I’m a scorned puppy. “Benji, I’ll be fine without you for a few hours. Go run around or go bother one of the boys.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He obviously doesn’t believe me because he dips down to kiss me soft and slow, lips gliding gently over mine in an affirmation that words can never give.

“Better?” Nolan asks against my mouth.

I nod slowly. “Yes. You’ll call me if you need me. Who’s driving you?”

Nolan slips his hand into my pocket and tugs out the car keys. The wink he gives me makes my heart skip in my chest, my gut tightening with want. I watch him go, feeling less worried and more anxious that we’ll be apart. We haven’t really done that… not since the balcony. But this is good for us. Plus, he’ll be with Harper; what can they possibly get up to?

It’s freezing outside, so I change into workout clothes and decide to go for a run. When Nolan gets back, he won’t want to deal with me and my boundless energy. I can’t help but smile when I think of him calling me his golden retriever, though. Guess that’s what I am.

Running through the area around Colby’s house always kind of reminds me of home back in Georgia. I get lost for a little while on the oak tree–lined concrete roads. Despite the cold air, the sun shines bright as ever, slashing through the trees. Not a cloud in sight. Clay Springs really is something special. Almost like the place is its own little bubble, an oasis away from real life. It sure has been that for Nolan and me.

For some stupid reason, my brain leads me to Jackson and Harper’s house, even though I know Harper isn’t there. I have to assume Jackson is, if only by the sight of his precious G-Wagon parked out front.

Jackson swings the door wide open after one knock. He stares at me hard, one eyebrow raised, and I feel the usual urge to squirm. After a moment he steps aside to let me walk through. Harper’s house is beautiful, with a lot of natural light flowing from the back of the house and into the front. It makes sense for Jackson, this house.

“Harper took Nolan somewhere,” I say as Jackson hands me a cold bottle of water.

Jackson leans against the counter, and crosses his broad arms over his chest. “Yes, downtown. Nolan needed to get out.”

“Away from me,” I point out.

“You’re smothering him, but he likes it.” Jackson laughs and rubs at his slightly stubbled cheek. “I’ve got one just like him. It’s a careful tightrope you have to balance.”

I take a careful gulp of the water as I think over what I want to say next, what I need to say next. What Jackson deserves to hear.

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to thank all of you… for everything.” I swallow hard as the urge to cry once again wells up inside me. “When he… well… it was a lot. And the first place I wanted to come was here.”

“It took you five weeks to say that to me? Jesus, Benji. We’re family at this point.”

I wince at his words, but he’s right. I’ve spent so long keeping them all at a careful distance. Not wanting to let them in so they could hurt me. No clue why; I’ve just always kept people at arm's length.

“I don’t want to argue.”

“I’m not trying to argue with you. I love you.”

For some reason, the words hit me like a blow to the chest, right between my ribs. I rub at the warm skin over my heart, wondering if I’m going to have a heart attack. The sound of Jackson moving closer makes me lift my head, only to find him looking at me in a way he never has before. Not pity, but something much worse. Worry.

“Are you okay? Really? What can I do for you?”

I wipe my suddenly hot nose against my sweatshirt, curling my fingers into the ends as the urge to cry overwhelms me.

“It’s so fucking hard, Jackson. I have to stay strong all the time for him. I can’t… can’t let him see I’m afraid or worried. Not right now. Not like this. I love my mom so much, and I don’t hate her for being who she is, but I never imagined falling in love with someone who has her same fucking struggles because sometimes I feel so alone even when I’m in the same room as him. And it’s getting better every day with therapy and the medicine… but sometimes I look at him and worry the balcony event isn’t the last time. If he killed himself, a part of me would die too. I’d die, too. I would. I love him so fucking much.” Tears are falling down my face now, and I claw at my chest as Jackson stares at me in profound loss of words. “I love him so fucking much, and if something happens to him, I will fucking die.”

Jackson grabs me by the arms and tugs me against his body, wrapping me in his strong arms so tightly that I can’t help but just let go. All the tears I’ve been holding in for months finally fall. Time crawls by as he holds me while I weep, his hand wound in my hair as he murmurs words I can’t even understand. Finally, my breathing calms and the tears slow, but I don’t feel stupid like I normally would. I just feel held and safe by one of my very best friends, a brother.

“Oh, Benji,” Jackson whispers into my hair. “You are so loved by all of us. When you were gone, we thought about you every day; we worried for you. Now that you’re here, let us help you, not just Nolan. It’s okay to need your friends, okay?” Jackson pulls away to dip down and look into my eyes. “It’s okay to let us see you like this.”

“I know… I was just so scared on the tour that if I told you guys, if you knew… especially Trevor because he knew Nolan… you’d make me leave him.”

Jackson’s jaw firms up, and he glances away. “Yes, I would’ve tried to get you to come back here. With or without him, I can’t say.”

I make a see gesture with my hands. “We all made mistakes. I just… I need you guys now. I see a future with Nolan, a beautiful one, if I can get him there. If he can see it too.”

Jackson squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose. “He sees it. I can’t betray trust because then I’d be a massive fucking asshole, and Harper would seriously punish me, but Nolan knows. He feels the same way you feel.”

I swallow hard because I knew that. I know that. “You’re pretty whipped by Harper.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s an understatement.” Jackson laughs, deep and low, before pinching my cheek. “You’re gonna be alright, Sunshine. Everything’s going to be alright.”

For the first time in a long time, I believe him.

“I like Harper, he’s funny.”

“Nolan’s funny, too.”

We smile at one another, some weird sort of truce developing between us. Jackson’s always been my secret favorite, even though half the time I want to murder him. We’re too alike, too headstrong, too focused on protecting to be anything more to each other than brothers. But I think at the end of the day, if I needed someone to kill for me, I could call Jackson and know I was safe.

Jackson hustles me back out onto the porch, where we chat about not-life-or-death topics for a few hours. It’s kind of nice to just not worry about anything for a little while. Just be normal.

“You need something just for you, Benji,” Jackson says with a sigh. “Putting all your focus on Nolan for now is fine, but not for the future. What about all the traveling you love to do? All the cooking? Your huge social media following? You haven’t updated your socials in forever.”

I splay my hands wide and shrug. “Hard to do that the past few months without people figuring out somehow that I was on tour with Nolan.”

“I get that,” Jackson agrees, face still thoughtful. “Cooking? You could go back to school. I know you dropped out but look at you, you’re not made for a business degree in stuffy classrooms. Maybe culinary school? You’ll constantly be moving in a kitchen.”

Oh. I hadn’t ever thought of that. “You’re kind of smart, Jackson.”

Jackson rolls his eyes deeply. “Here we go.”

“Genius over here,” I tease some more, before getting serious again. “Cooking would be fun. I love to cook for Nolan and I like providing for people.”

“I’ll have Harper see if Beau or Colby know anyone.” Jackson reaches over to pat my cheek. “I’m afraid if we push it, we’ll end up killing each other. Wanna talk sports?”

“Thank God, neutral territory,” I say with a grin, feeling full and happy when Jackson’s booming laugh fills the space around us.

When Harper and Nolan wander into the house a while later, laughter echoing off the walls, my heart does that scary jump again that reminds me just how far deep I’m in.

And it does a crazy dive when they step through the back door.

Harper stands with his hands on his hips as he glares at us. “What’s going on here?”

“Planning a coup,” Jackson replies with a smirk. He pats his leg and Harper happily wanders over to perch himself on Jackson’s lap. They share an easy smile, but my attention can’t stay on them because I’m captivated by Nolan.

He’s had his hair trimmed, making it just barely longer than it was a year or so ago, with tight black curls that've been his signature look for years. His nails are painted, too, a deep midnight blue. I stand from the chair and cross the distance between us. I want to tangle my fingers in his hair like usual, but I also don’t want to fuck it up because it looks way too damn good. Nolan grins at me, small and soft, because, of course, he knows the effect he has on me.

“You look good,” I say, voice thick.

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

Nolan swallows hard. “Wanna take me back to the apartment?”

“Yeah, I kind of really do.”

“Bye,” Nolan says loudly without tearing his gaze from mine.

I aim a lazy wave over my shoulder. Grabbing Nolan’s hand, I tug him after me until we’re climbing into the car we’ve been borrowing for weeks. I keep Nolan’s hand in mine the entire drive back, my heart pounding in my chest with each mile it takes to get us back home, back to our bedroom.

I always thought the movies were full of shit when they painted people as unable to keep their hands off of each other, clothes falling off as they climb stairs, hands roving bodies just to touch bare skin. But it is real when you love someone. I can’t stop touching Nolan even as I back him toward the bedroom. I can’t stop mapping his tattooed skin with the warm palms of my hands, feeling the vibrantly alive lines of his body. His lips are warm and supple against mine, like drinking ambrosia of the gods. His kisses make me feverish and they make me ache.

“Benji?” Nolan asks quietly.

“Have you ever topped?”

Nolan pulls back enough to stare at me, eyes wide. “No.”

“Would you?”

Nolan looks nervous but not scared as he continues to stare at me. His throat bobs a few times, fingers tightening against my ribs as he holds me close.

“If you want to, I would. Only with you. Have you ever…”

I shake my head quickly. “No, never. But I want to, I think, with you.”

Nolan surges to kiss me again, less of a kiss and more of a branding. His lips say I belong to him, that I’m his, and he’s mine, and that I can trust him with my body, just like he trusts me with his.

I fall back onto the bed, and Nolan follows me down, blanketing me with his warm body. His kiss slows until it feels like his mouth is making love to mine. I feel heat all over just from his touch, from his closeness. Nolan leans back on his knees to peel off his shirt and sweater and he gently helps me out of my own.

“Wait!”

Nolan freezes like a deer in headlights. “What?”

“Well… I was jogging… and stuff and I don’t know. Can I shower first? This is kind of a big deal and I want…”

Nolan kisses me again, this time hard, tongue dipping into my mouth. He pulls away to pant harshly against my neck. “You can take a fucking shower, Jesus, Benji. Go on. I can’t come with you or I’ll eat you alive.”

“Okay! Okay.” I run to the bathroom and take the fastest, most thorough shower of my life. When I return back into the bedroom, damp and nude, my breath catches in my lungs at the sight of Nolan, gloriously naked on the bed, laid out before me. Miles and miles of skin that I know just as well as the back of my own hand.

Nolan tilts his head to the side, his hand circling his dick as he licks his lips. “Well, get on the bed, stud.”

Jesus fuck. I’d expected to be more nervous, but there’s no room for nerves in the bedroom with Nolan. We’ve tried everything and been through so much that somewhere in my head, this just felt like the natural progression. We’re safe with one another. I lie down on the bed beside him, and he leans over me to kiss me softly, just the hint of a kiss. But I want and need so much more. Finally giving in to the impulse from earlier, I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug him closer, eating at his mouth until he’s feeding me his moans.

Nolan breaks from my lips to kiss down my chest, tongue licking over my skin and making me squirm. Without any warning, he swallows my cock down, and I arch off the bed in surprise. Fuck, he has an incredible mouth. When a lubed finger swipes across my entrance, I instinctively clench and glance down at Nolan.

Nolan pops off my cock, lips shiny, eyes bright. “Trust me, Benji.”

I nod rapidly and lean back again, closing my eyes with a sigh when he takes me back into his mouth. My gut tightens and pleasure curls at the base of my spine as Nolan licks around my head. I don’t even notice that he’s added a finger; it just feels full, feels like?—

“Oh my God!” I shout as he finds my prostate. Holy fuck.

Nolan grins around my cock and continues to take me apart. Sweat dots my hairline as I tangle my fingers in the messy blankets between us. I bend my knees so I can fuck against his hand, needing more, needing something I don’t know how to ask for. Finally, just when I’m about to come, Nolan pulls off my cock to slide up my body. His fingers are still curled inside me, just now gently pressing against my prostate, making my toes curl and feet tingle. Fuck.

He gently kisses my temple, nose nudging against my sweaty hair. “I’m scared I won’t do it right.”

I wrap my arms around his middle, holding him close, feeling his heartbeat against my chest. We lie there, joined together, as Nolan gathers his courage. I don’t know what to say or how to tell him that he could do it all wrong, and it would probably still be the most beautiful experience of my life.

“It’s just us, Nolan. It’s us.”

Nolan nods against my head and pulls away to lean back on his haunches between my spread thighs. He stares at my hole as he covers his cock with lube, his fingers swiping over the swollen head. When he lies back down over me, flushed skin so hot against mine, it feels like some sort of benediction. I see forever in his eyes when our gazes meet. His palm slides down my thigh to lift my leg higher up to rest over his shoulder.

I feel so splayed open and vulnerable that, for a moment, my head spins. Is this how Nolan feels every time I fuck him? Nolan’s other hand comes up to cup my face, his gaze staring straight through me.

“It’s us, Benji.” Nolan notches his cock against my entrance, just barely pushing the tip in. I breathe through it, staring so deeply into Nolan’s eyes that I wonder if he can see every single one of my inner thoughts. He slides in slowly, waiting for me to adjust, giving me the time to accept all of him.

Once inside, his elbows fall to the bed, and he pants above me, pupils so wide that his eyes look like the night sky in winter. For a few long minutes, we just stare at one another, the special moment between us frozen, suspended precariously in time. Then he moves, and we both groan at the dual sensations. I reverently run my hands over his back, finally letting my fingers tangle in the sweaty curls at the nape of Nolan’s neck.

“Is it good? Okay?” Nolan asks, out of breath.

I pull his head down to press our foreheads together. “It’s good, Nolan. Now make love to me.”

He kisses me then, soft and slow, and I gasp into his mouth when he makes a particularly hard thrust. I don’t think we’ll be switching it up all that often, but for now, it feels important to have this with Nolan. Have this closeness that promises something I’m not sure words from me will ever say. Nolan curls an arm behind my neck and reaches the other hand between us to take my cock in hand. I try to tip my head back at the perfect feeling but Nolan lifts his arm so that I have to hold his gaze.

Our eyes stay locked as he fucks into me over and over, his hand working magic on my cock, until pleasure blossoms in my stomach, my toes curl, and my release shoots out of me as I gasp with pleasure. Nolan groans deep and low, and I feel him come inside me, warmth spilling out of me. Fuck. He falls on top of me and lazily lifts his head to kiss me with every ounce of love he can muster.

“Benji,” Nolan murmurs reverently against my lips. “I’m gonna play you a song right now, and don’t be fucking weird about it.”

“While you’re still inside me?” I ask, just a little concerned.

Nolan chuckles against my neck, planting a sweet, warm kiss to where my pulse pounds. “No, I’m gonna stay here for a minute. Wanna remember this forever.”

I press my face into his curls, inhaling the scent of him. He feels different in my arms. The weight he’s been carrying for a year doesn’t seem to be there anymore, but it’s been replaced with something else. Maybe healing is just as heavy as pain. But if I can help him work through it and come out the other side, then maybe we can have a chance to grab the life I can so easily envision for us. A nice house on a few acres where we can watch the sunset as Nolan plays a new song for me. More laughter lines will fill his face because I’ll make him laugh every chance I get, every moment, every single second of our life together.

Nolan pulls out of me slowly, and I fight a wince, but he sees it, because he knows, just like I always know. I lie still and let him care for me, just like he always lets me care for him. There’s a catharsis in allowing him to care for me and repeat the motions that I always so tenderly go through for him. His eyes are warm and loving as he traces a towel over my skin, his fingers following the path. Once I’m clean to his satisfaction, he leans down to kiss me again, his fingers cupped behind my ear in a way that makes goose bumps break out over my skin.

“Thank you, Benji,” Nolan whispers against my mouth. The thing is, I don’t think he’s thanking me for the fuck, I think he’s thanking me for more than I can ever really know.

“It’s okay, Nolan.”

Nolan nods once, then rolls to a stand. He holds his hand out for me to take, and he pulls me up, then tenderly dresses me in a clean pair of discarded gym shorts from the floor. He hustles me into the living room and firmly presses me down to sit on the couch. I watch as he moves around the room, a pair of sweatpants slung low on his slim hips. That damn Grim Reaper stares back at me, but the meaning of it feels a little different now. Maybe instead of the Grim Reaper reaching for Nolan, he’s pushing everyone away because he knows it’s not Nolan’s time. It’s my time now, my time with Nolan.

A few seconds later, Nolan’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of me, guitar in his lap, and eyes steadfastly caught on the neck of the guitar as he plays a few chords. He still has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard in my life. Angels weep when he opens his mouth. Nolan might not be able to look at me, might not be able to say the words, but he’s saying them in song. My heart catches in my chest as he gets to the end, the chords slow and steady as his gorgeous voice just slightly trembles. It’s a love song for me .

Nolan trails off slowly, throat bobbing as he swallows. His fingers slowly unfurl from the neck of the guitar as he lifts his gaze to mine, his eyes full of so much longing that my own heart echoes it back.

I fall to my knees from the couch and crawl toward him. His gaze is so fucking dark, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, or maybe want, but I have to let him know it’s okay. I carefully take the guitar from his grip because I know he loves it more than he’ll ever love me. Once the guitar is safely nestled against the sofa, I place my hand on his crossed legs and lean into his face.

“Thank you, Nolan,” I tell him firmly, squeezing his thighs hard. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I won’t leave you. Not unless you want me to leave.”

Nolan closes his eyes tight, and a tear slips out. “I don’t think I’ll ever want you to leave. You’re”—he presses his hand to his chest with a grimace—“in here now… you’re in here, and I want to keep you forever.”

“You can keep me. I’m yours.”

He opens his eyes back up to stare at me with those deep black eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you, Benji.”

“We’ll hurt one another. But I want to keep you, want you to keep me, and I want to make you laugh and hold you on bad days. Okay?”

Nolan sighs, bone-weary and exhausted, and he slumps against me as I wrap my arms around him.

“Okay, Benji. We can keep each other.”