Page 40 of Operation Sunshine
He didn’t move away from the fire, however, and for once Franco didn’t push. He simply gazed into the flickering flames, letting the silence stretch long and warm between them.
Are we going to take things further?
Ben knew he wanted to. It was no longer a question ofif, butwhen.
The trip back to Adelaide was as noisy as the outbound drive, but Ben let it roll over him. Franco was seated next to him again, and Ben was even more aware of his presence than he’d been a few hours before. Their thighs touched, and their eyes met and held, a long, heavy beat that seemed to gather up the whole day and condense it into a single, bright thread pulling between them.
Franco’s gaze softened, his mouth tipping into a half-shy, half-knowing smile. It was the same look he’d given Ben in the restaurant, the night he’d made Ben dinner, the rain lashing against the windows.
Then Franco raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t an aggressive stare but a coaxing invitation. Ben could hear the unspoken words.
You feel this too, don’t you?
God help him, he did.
Maybe it was this realisation that made him read more into Franco’s expression.
We could go further,it seemed to say.We’re already halfway across the threshold.
Ben swallowed hard. The air seemed to thicken around him, every sound blurring except the rush of blood in his ears and Franco’s gentle breathing.
He held Franco’s gaze longer than he meant to, the memory of Franco’s touch still burning hot in his mind.
Franco reached out, slow and deliberate, and brushed his fingers over Ben’s wrist, a careful touch as if he was testing the edge of a flame.
Ben didn’t flinch this time. He turned his hand over and let Franco’s palm slide against his, their fingers fitting together as though they’d been made to lock that way. A tremor shivered through Ben’s chest, sharp and bright. He felt raw and impossibly open, as if all his old armour had been stripped away. Only this time, it didn’t feel like a threat.
It felt like a beginning.
Franco traced slow circles against Ben’s skin with his thumb, and Ben expelled a breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When he opened them again, Franco was leaning closer, his eyes shining with something quiet and fierce.
And fuck, the heat in his eyes was talking louder than words ever could.
Ben hoped to God he was reading this right, because that look saidLet me know you. Let me touch you.
Then Franco’s breathing hitched, and he mouthedCome home with me.
Holy fucking God.
Ben’s throat worked. Every instinct screamed at him to pull back, to make some joke or move away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.
Instead, he squeezed Franco’s hand once and mouthed one word.
Yes.
Franco’s face broke into a slow, radiant grin, and he leaned in closer, pressing their shoulders together.
Around them, the others still talked and laughed, but it all blurred into an indistinct hum. Ben and Franco were locked into a small, secret space between them, where there was only heat and breath and the soft weight of Franco’s hand.
A sensation caught in Ben’s chest, a thread pulling tight and then releasing, flooding him with a reckless, electric relief. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel like a man stranded on the outside looking in, but instead he was tethered to something wild and real and devastatingly gentle. He knew he was standing on dangerous ground, that he was already halfway gone. But as he sat there, Franco’s touch burning into his pulse, he didn’t feel afraid.
He felt alive.
Tonight, I won’t pull away.
Tonight, he would follow Franco home.
Eleven
