Page 92 of Beautifully Devoted

“He means you’ve seen his cock,” I clarify.

“What makes you think I’ve seen his cock?”

“We get dressed in the same locker room,” Jagger says with a shrug. “It’s hard to miss.”

“That doesn’t mean we look at each other’s dicks,” Cruz says, coming to Bennet’s defense.

“Yeah, there’s this thing called privacy. Maybe you two want to practice that and go jerk each other off somewhere else.” Bennet tips his head toward the stairs, giving us a not-so-subtle hint to get moving.

“He’s not jerking me off. Just rubbing my foreskin. It’ll probably put me to sleep.”

“TMI, dude.” Bennet shakes his head and looks to the ceiling, like he’s fighting for his spot in heaven. “I don’t want to watch you hooking up while I’m playing Madden.”

Jagger leans toward me like he’s going to whisper, but he speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. “This, coming from the guy who had his hand up a girl’s skirt in the middle of a party just the other day.” Jagger shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “On New Year’s.”

“Last I checked, New Year’s was about new beginnings not new orgasms,” I say, feeding into his little game. Except, I know what we were doing on New Years, and I’m fairly certain it was much more sinful than finger-blasting a chick at a party.

“He’s got you there.” Liam gives Bennet a guilty look.

“That was a party. This is just… Sunday afternoon.”

“That’s why his dick’s still in his shorts,” I tell him. “I’m not trying to score, just giving him a little rub. It relaxes him.”

Liam and Cruz exchange a look—they know what I’m talking about—but Bennet shuts that shit down right away.

“Seriously? It’s bad enough we have to have a dicks stay in pants rule, do I have to add no hands inside pants to the list?”

“What if it’s your own hand?” Cruz asks.

“Are you asking because you think that makes it better, or do you actually think that’s an acceptable thing to do in public?” Bennet’s starting to get red, which is sort of amusing since there’s only a few things that can get him riled up. Losing, losing to his nemesis Damien, and his roommates getting handsy in front of him. That’s it. Otherwise, his name might as well be Namaste.

Jagger and I have a theory about that last one, though, which is why we sometimes push his boundaries.

“I thought it was acceptable. Not jerking it, just holding it. And not at a restaurant or a game or anything, but in your living room, sure,” Cruz insists.

“His grandpa’s natural state is reclined on the chair with his hands down his pants,” Liam tries to explain. “I’ve seen it many times.”

“Grandpas are like, eighty,” Bennet scoffs. “You make it to eighty, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Nah, he’s been sitting like that his whole life,” Cruz disproves Bennet’s theory. “He always said it felt comfortable.”

“It does,” Jagger says almost sleepily.

“Jesus,” Bennet mutters. “And here I thought you two were touchy-feely before you started dating.”

He’s not wrong. Jagger and I were never shy about sitting on, wrestling with or even sleeping next to each other, which in hindsight might’ve been a clue that we’d end up where we are today, but I’m glad it took us as long as it did to get where we are.

The love was always there between us, but the intimacy we found after realizing how deep that love ran… I don’t think there’s a word or even a phrase that can encompass it. Soulmate, other half, life partner—even husband, which I assume he’ll be one day—none of those do justice to what we have. They aren’t big enough to fit what he means to me. Nor, what we are together.

And yeah, Jagger and I like to rile Bennet about how great dicks are by bragging about our sex life… It’s mostly because we suspect he’s harboring some curiosity that he isn’t ready to admit to. But the truth is, the sex is only good because it’s the two of us together. I don’t think it has anything to do with us both being men. We’re just so connected that anything we do feels incredible, even if it doesn’t lead to sex.

Liam and Cruz get it. Hopefully one day, Bennet and Aiden will, too. Not together necessarily, but with someone.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but at least keep some hand wipes out here so you can wipe your dick cooties off before you touch the controller,” Bennet says.

“Fair,” Jagger and I say together, and even though it’s far from the first time we’ve spoken in unison, his knowing smile is so beautiful I have to kiss him and make the moment extra cheesy.

“Guess I’m still playing, then.” Bennet reaches for the controller and cues up another game as a blast of cold air ripples through the room when Aiden opens the front door.

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