Chapter 23

Ben’s presence. Making him feel.

Ben remembered to inhale—he’d forgotten for a moment, watching his husband—and steadied his heart-rate. Being an anchor; being what Simon needed. The way Simon was, for him: someone to love, to care for, to protect—and to admire.

That brilliance. That generosity. That ability to know the ugliness of the world and still sit down to write happy endings. To make them happen for others.

He ordered, surprised by the catch in his voice, “Come for me, Simon, I love you,” and stroked the fingers just so and watched as Simon’s whole body coiled and tensed and shuddered into a drawn-out jerking release, staccato pulses of white spurting from his tip, coaxed out by Ben’s command and caresses, over and over.