“There’s only two days left!” the girl complained.

“I know. We’ll really nail it tomorrow, promise,” Tim said.

The girl didn’t look convinced, but she gathered up her things and left.

Ben sat on a couch, head spinning. Chinchilla yapped at his feet before piddling in excitement. Tim was there almost instantly with paper towels. He eyed Ben with concern as he cleaned it up.

“You didn’t leave a note on Jace’s door, did you?” Ben asked. “Or have someone else do it?”

“No. Why? What happened?”

Ben started to explain, getting worked up again in the process. Tim interrupted him to run to the kitchen. He came back with a couple bottles of beer. Ben’s words poured out, some angry and others confused. Tim didn’t offer any advice; he only made sympathetic noises and occasionally asked a question.

Once Ben’s demons were expelled, another round of beers was fetched and they began talking about their end-of-studies stress. Both of them were under pressure, but Tim was taking it much easier than Ben. Considering that he was already independently wealthy, he had little need for a degree.

“Why are you even bothering?” Ben asked him. “I’d drop it all in a second if I were in your shoes.”

“I promised Eric.”

They heated up a couple of frozen pizzas and downed them with another round of beers. The light had left the day now, along with Ben’s sobriety. He rarely drank, so three bottles of beer was his version of a binge. When their buzzes began to wear off, leaving them tired, Ben followed Tim upstairs and made a clumsy pass at him. Tim gently pushed him away and redirected him to one of the guest rooms. If Ben needed any more proof that Tim was innocent in the recent scandal, this was more than enough.

Ben slogged through the next two days of classes with his brain to the grindstone-- not the traditional saying, but exactly how he felt. For once Tim wasn’t on his mind. The rift between him and Jace drove him to distraction until Ben finally gave in and called.

“Where are you?”

“Chicago.”

“Are you flying back tonight?”

“No. Not for a couple of days.”

“Oh.”

“Look, Ben, I think we both said things we didn’t mean, but I think we should take a break.”

Ben couldn’t respond.

“You have a lot going on right now with school,” Jace continued. “I understand how much pressure you are under. I remember. Focus on your finals and your thesis and make sure you graduate. Once that is out of the way, then we can talk, okay?”

“I guess.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Ben hung up the phone, feeling empty inside. Jace’s suggestion was perfectly reasonable. Unfortunately, it was opposite of what Ben needed. He had expected Jace to say that being apart was too hard, that he was sorry for their argument. Instead he seemed to have flipped his emotional switch to “off.” Ben couldn’t do that. As he curled up on the bed and cried, he wished more then anything that he could.

__________

Chapter 25

Three days later and four finals were out of the way. The last thing Ben had to worry about now was his thesis. He didn’t understand why they had to be so damn long. The topic he had chosen was how pronunciation and intonation had subtly changed over the decades. This theme had seemed a good way of combining his degree in English literature with his love of singing, and while it was interesting, he was tired of trying to track down the source of every fact. He was tempted to have one single source under his references, listed simply as “the internet.”

Saturday was a scorcher, the heat making work on his thesis twice as grueling as usual. As if reading his mind, Tim called him on the cell phone.

“Two words,” he began. “Swimming pool.”

He could have said “free ice cubes” and Ben would have come running.

The pool behind the house had an elegant winding shape, edges lined with stained wood, the walls with decorative tile. Tim, wearing swimming trunks and a plain grey tank top, balanced a serving tray loaded with pitcher and glasses. Chinchilla was busy dragging towels around the edge of the pool, growling as if she’d just vanquished a deadly foe. Ben sighed, unable to picture a more inviting scene.

“Monsieur,” Tim said as he poured a glass of Kool-Aid.

Ben took a sip and tried not to wince. The drink mix contained too much sugar, but at least it was cold. Ben downed the rest before stripping down to his trunks and jumping in the water, Tim cannonballing after him.

“This is really nice,” Ben said, treading water after submerging a couple of times.

“It’s not bad,” Tim said. “Too small to do any laps though, making it a glorified bathtub.”

“Whatever you say. Pools are meant for relaxing, not working out.”

“Working out is relaxing.”

“Whatever, muscle boy,” Ben teased.

“I don’t remember you ever complaining.” Tim dove underwater, performing an underwater handstand before surfacing again. “Finals out of the way?”

“Yeah,” Ben nodded.

“And Jace? You two patch things up yet?”

Ben turned in the water, not wanting Tim to see the unhappy look on his face. “Kind of the opposite. We’re taking a break.”

“Wow,” Tim said after a moment of silence. “Benjamin Bentley is back on the market.”

“Not exactly.”

“No?”

“I don’t know.”

Ben let the topic drop. He didn’t want to think about it right now. Instead they started splashing Chinchilla, who ran around the edge of the pool, barking. She would dodge the water before running back to drink from the puddles they left behind. Soaking her would have been easy, but they made sure to miss on purpose. Eventually they tired of the pool, so they retreated to the deck chairs.

“Put some oil on my back?” Tim asked.

Ben snorted. “Could you think of a more clichéd line?”

“Tried and true,” Tim replied shamelessly. “It’s withstood the test of time for a reason.”

“Fair enough.” Ben sat on the edge of Tim’s deck chair. He was about to squeeze some of the oil onto his back when Tim rolled over.

“Think my front needs some, actually.”

Ben waited for a laugh, but Tim’s face had grown serious. The bottle of oil almost shook in his hands as the oil dribbled onto Tim’s chest. The nervousness soon turned to lust when Ben re-experienced just how good Tim’s body felt. He rubbed his pecs, feeling the nipples harden beneath his hand. Then he moved down to the six-pack.

Tim was transparently hard by this point, but then, so was Ben. Thoughts faded into the background as instinct took over. Tim grabbed Ben by the arms, pulling him down for a kiss. Lips and tongues danced as Tim’s hands pulled and yanked at their swimming suits. Ben worked with him, squirming until his trunks were low enough to be kicked off. He glanced down at Tim’s dick, which looked even bigger than it had when he was a teenager.

Their kisses intensified while they rubbed against each other. Ben was about to go down on him when Tim grabbed the oil. He squeezed some onto both of their cocks, grinding them together momentarily before pulling Ben upward so that he could get between his legs. Before Ben could protest, Tim took him by the wrists. With his hands pinned behind his back, Ben was forced to lay all of his weight on Tim. He gasped in pain and then pleasure as Tim entered him. Then Tim began pumping like a piston, the hissing of his breath in Ben’s ear reminiscent of a steam engine.

Ben squirmed and writhed, eager to reach down and play with himself but unable to with his hands restrained. His cock rubbed against Tim’s stomach, sending waves of pleasure through him that threatened to drive him mad if he didn’t find release soon, but Tim didn’t relent. They continued in this manner for what felt like an eternity, both of their bodies slick with oil and sweat, until Tim’s thrusting increased in speed. The friction was enough to send Ben over the edge at the same time that Tim reached his climax. They moaned loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear before collapsing in an exhausted heap.