Page 25 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

Fuck, I really didn’t expect to be called out like this. I didn’t realize I’d need to plan for an inquisition about these new confusing feelings inside of me. I’ve never looked at Benji like this. Hell, I’ve never looked at anyone quite like this. The sight of Benji’s beautiful eyes—so much like my own—his soft blond hair, and skin that looks like it hasn’t seen the sun in decades are all doing things to me I never knew possible. I didn’t even get this hard for Tatum, and Tatum’s ass is to die for.

I could lie. It would be easy. Honestly, it would probably be the right thing to do—but I’ve never lied to Benjamin Applebaum. He’s the other half of my heart and lying to him would be like lying to myself.

“Because of you,” I finally admit, too scared to look at his reaction. “Because of the pictures.” I risk a glance, and when I do, Benji’s got this bashful look on his face. It’s full of innocence and sunshine. There’s nervousness, but also a knowingness, because he knows me better than anyone in the world.

Benji. My Benji. My brother.

He’s like a work of art. A human masterpiece.

“You mean it?” he asks nervously, motioning up and down his body with his hand. “You really like me? Like, you think I’m cute and stuff?”

I lick my lips, because yeah, I really like what I’m seeing, but I’m fucking terrified to admit it. This isn’t us. We don’t ogle each other. There’s a whole bunch of change happening right now, and it feels like I’m barely holding my head above water. I roll onto my back, settling into Nate’s side.

“Is that okay?”

He looks just as vulnerable as I feel right now. This is unfamiliar territory for us—territory I hadn’t even known existed before last night. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s okay.”

“I’m proud of you, buddy,” Nate says encouragingly. He’s right beside me, leaning against the pillows he has propped against the headboard. “For telling Benji how you feel. If you need to come, then you should. I’ll stay here with you the whole time. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. Neither of us mind. Go on. It’s okay. Let me help you. Like last night.”

Last night ended with me dry-fucking his hip, so I doubt that’s the kind of help he’s offering . . . but even if it isn’t, I still can’t do this without Benji. All or nothing. Beginning to end, that’s what I promised him. It’s what I promised myself. I knowBenji’s essentially given me the green light, but I don’t fucking want it. It’shimI want. I need him and I need him now.

“Bennet,” Benji says, sounding nervous. His eyes meet mine, and he licks his lips. “If you need to come, I don’t mind.”

“I can’t. Not without you here. It doesn’t feel right. I promised you I’d wait until you got home.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, remembering your promise to him,” Nate praises, and when I turn to look at him, he’s still got that same serious expression on his face. He’s also got a snot bubble forming, which, any other time, might make me want to run away in disgust, but with Nate, I don’t want to run. How could I? I want to wipe that little green bubble away, so his face is back to its perfect state. That’s exactly what I do. When I lean over him, the professional exterior he’s erected around himself cracks, and he gasps, his hips rising an inch off the bed when my hand is hovering over his clothed cock. Yeah. He’s definitely into this. I grab a tissue from the nightstand and hold it against his nose.

“Blow,” I instruct, and after a pause, he softly blows. It takes another three tissues, but when we’ve finally got him easy-breezy again, he offers me a shy smile.

“Thanks, Bennet.”

I lean in and kiss the bridge of his nose. “You’re very welcome.”

Benji sniffles, pulling our attention back to him. “I wanna come home. I hate it here without you. Hate filing these stupid papers and typing the stupid numbers on the computer. You’re both loving up on each other, and I’m here by myself.” Benji turns his attention to Nate, pleading with his eyes. “I know I said I was going to be your good boy, but I can’t do this by myself. It’s too much pressure. I wanna come home.”

Nate’s got a pained look on his face. He gets lost in his head for a few seconds, just staring at Benji with apologetic eyes.When he reaches for the phone, I hand it over. “I’m so sorry, little guy. I should have refused to leave you there, I knew it was wrong the second he suggested it.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a head case. You shouldn’t have to put up with all my baggage. You deserve someone that can make your life simple, and here I am, unloading all my problems all the time.”

“I love when you unload on me, buddy,” Nate says. The words are worthy of a sexual pun, but I hold back, not wanting to ruin the moment they’re sharing. “Don’t ever worry about being too much for me. It’s never too much for a father. I promise I’m not going anywhere. You boys are mine now. My sons. I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

By the look in his eyes, the comment stung Benji just as much as it hurt me.

Sons.

He thinks of us as his adopted sons, and I don’t know if that’s a label he’ll ever be able to get past. The things I feel for Nate are so much bigger than anything a son should feel for his father. They make me want impossible things. Things I have no right asking for. More of his horrible jokes and dreamy gazes. More of his ass in those threadbare pajamas. More touching us all over. More everything, because that’s exactly what Nate is. More than anything, Nate is everything.

Nate pats his hand around the mattress like he’s looking for something. I don’t know what the heck he’s looking for, but I don’t have time to worry about whatever lost artifact he’s hunting. Focusing my attention on the image of my best friend—my everything—on the screen, I try to reassure Benji.

“You’re coming home,” I tell him. “I don’t care what Meadows says about it, I need you, Benj. I need you and you need me. So, you’re going to get your things tofether, I’m goingto order you a rideshare, and then I’m calling Meadows and telling him?—”

“Now you listen to me, son,” Nate says in a voice I’ve never heard before. It’s hateful and harsh and filled with accusation. It’s a sound that sends a chill down my spine, reminding me of the way Nito used to yell at us. Mainly at me, which I could handle, but sometimes he aimed that anger at Benji, and seeing my Benji suffer, knowing I wasn’t big enough—wasn’t strong enough—to keep him safe still haunts me. Benji needed me, and I wasn’t there for him. Not when Nito would shove him in the cage, not when he’d make fun of his dick size . . . not even the time Benji took things further. His harshest punishment, and Benji was the one who had to endure it. I made a promise to Benji after we were rescued. I told him I wouldn’t ever let anyone talk to him like that again, and I meant it. Even though I wasn’t strong for him then, I can be strong for him now. No one—not even Nate—is going to take that tone with him ever again.

Inside I’m shaking, but when I turn to face Nate, I’ve got the meanest look I can manage, ready to unleash holy hell on him.

He’s not even looking at us, he’s got my phone against his ear, and is staring at the bedroom door, one hand fisted at his side. Of course, he isn’t yelling at us. He would never aim that much anger at his boys, and I feel like an idiot for doubting him. “I don’t give a damn how heavy the workload is, my boys are an emotional wreck right now, and his being there isn’t helping anything. You knew they were a package deal when you hired them; we discussed it at Tatum and Abi’s wedding. So, you’re going to get your behind in there, help him with his things, and bring him to me. I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Honestly, you’ll be lucky if I let them come back at all. By the sound of it, they’re both absolutely miserable. I’ll tell you something for nothing, son, there’s something rotten in the state of Denmark, and I think I’m speaking to the source.” He pauses for a moment,his face going completely white. He swallows, and his eyes meet mine, but only for a moment. “Yes, I’m sure you’re more than capable of removing my head with nothing more than a knitting needle, but it doesn’t change the fact that these boys have been through hell, and they’re still struggling. So, get my boy and bring him home. If you still want to decapitate me, you’re welcome to do so when you get here.”

As they continue bickering, I focus on Benji. He’s staring down at the desk with a far-away look in his eyes that I can’t read, which is weird, because I can usually read him like a book. “What’s wrong?”

---