Page 12 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

Benji looks at Bennet. “Okay. Let’s do it.” Bennet gives Benji a quick nod, and then they slide their underwear down, leaving themselves bare before me.

The picture laid out in front of me is an absolute vision. They look so alike. They have the same small stature. Same piercing blue eyes. Same bashful smiles, aimed right in my direction. Their nipples are pale-pink against their creamy skin, drawing my eyes to them like the cape of a matador to a bull—not that I support bullfighting.

My boys stand motionless in front of me as if seeking my approval. To own the truth, it doesn’t feel as strange as I thought it would to stand in a room with two naked men. It feels like a bonding experience.

I meet their eyes, because even though they’ve clearly asked me to watch them, I still want their permission to look lower, considering how self-conscious they seem to be. With nervous nods, I’m given my answer. My eyes dip down to the sources of their worry.

Are their penises small? Yes, but so are Bennet and Benji. They’d look ridiculous with more than what they’re already working with. If I were a betting man, I’d say they’re maybe four inches, tops. Bennet is the bigger of the pair, though not by much. As with their chests, there isn’t a hair to be found on either of them. Not on the skin above their dicks, and not on the wrinkly, pink coin purses underneath.

“That’s a very nice penis, son,” I tell Bennet, then I turn to Benji. “Yours too, buddy.” Feeling an air of camaraderie, I pull them to me, hugging them close. “I swear, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Every inch of you is perfect.”

They pull back, breaking the hug, their eyes widening. They turn to each other, sharing a secret glance. When Benji looks back at me, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “You’re sure? The monster . . . he used to say?—”

I shake my head, cutting him off. “The monster is an idiot. He had the perfect packages right in front of him, and he threw them away.” I kiss Benji’s forehead, then Bennet’s. “If I were gay, I would make sure you knew how beautiful each inch is.”

Bennet whimpers before reaching for his shaft and giving it a cautious stroke. He’s trusting me with something he’s clearly been struggling with for years, and it sends a protective surge through my body.

“They’re perfect,” I repeat, feeling more lightheaded the longer I stare at them. Bennet’s stroking himself slowly, his eyes moving back and forth between me and his best friend’s dick. “Jesus, Bennet.” His right hand is twitching at his side, and I can tell he wants to take Benji into his hand, but Benji seems oblivious. He’s just staring at me with a far-away look in his eyes. He must be worried about crossing the line with Bennet, and since Bennet seems to be on board, I call out his name.

“Yeah?” he says, sounding breathy. “Yes, sir?”

“Go on,” I urge him. “It’s okay. Touch him.”

Benji startles, his eyes darting back at his friend. They’re lost in wordless conversation, but it doesn’t last long. With a shaky hand, Bennet reaches for Benji and curves his fingers around Benji’s shaft.

“Bennet,” he gasps. “Oh, my God.”

Bennet’s got his cheek sucked in, and he’s chewing on it like beef jerky. He’s focused on Benji’s dick, his hand slowly rising and falling. With their small size, the head barely peeks over the edge of Bennet’s fist. Benji’s hips are rolling forward, and when his eyes meet mine, his smile widens.

“Am I doing okay?” Bennet asks.

“You’re doing great,” I say, wanting to encourage him.

“And it feels good for you?” He’s eyeing Benji curiously, but as Benji’s eyes roll back in his head, I’m pretty sure we’ve got his answer. They keep up like this for a while, Bennet stroking his best friend’s cock like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand looks form-fitted. Heck, maybe it was. Maybe God, in all his or her infinite wisdom, saw fit to create each with the other in mind, and I’ve simply been blessed with the task of leading them into something more than they already are.

Bennet’s hands are everywhere. On Benji’s shoulder. His arm. His butt. He’s exploring his matching half for the first time,and it genuinely feels like there’s an awakening happening. It hums in the air like power lines—never stopping, never fading.

“Benji,” he rasps. They’re face-to-face, foreheads touching, their breathing heavy. By the twitch of Bennet’s lip, it’s clear he wants this thing to progress, but he’s still too scared. His eyes are glued to Benji’s lips.

Someone wants a kiss.

I press my hand against the small of Bennet’s back. He startles at the touch, but it doesn’t take him long to recover. He looks up at me with love-drunk eyes, completely dazed. “Nate?”

I lean down and kiss his scalp. “Yeah, buddy. I’m right here.” I lock eyes with Benji. “Do you trust me, Benjamin?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Because I think there’s something Bennet’s wanting, and I want you to give it to him.” I touch Benji’s cheek, encouraging him. “Go on, baby. Give our boy a kiss.”

Benji’s eyes widen, and any foggy headspace he may have been wading through seems to clear. He looks panicked. I can’t have that, so, wanting to calm him, I kiss his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth. I don’t know what prompted the action, but it feels right.

“Just like that, Benjamin, but an inch to the left, this time.”

Benji eyes his friend curiously as if trying to decide if Bennet’s serious about this. Considering Bennet’s dick hasn’t shown signs of deflation since their underwear came off, it’s pretty clear he’s into this.

“You’re sure?” Benji asks him.

“It’s not too weird, is it?” Bennet checks.

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