Snowed in for Christmas

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Jett

MY HEART DROPS AS I watch Ben go, but other parts of my body have a very different reaction. I managed to hold it back while he was still in the room, but now that I’m alone, heat rushes through my body — and toward my dick.

“You’ve gotta be kidding, bro,” I say to my hard cock.

It’s fully submerged, and Ben was fully dressed, but neither of those factors seem to matter to the renegade appendage. The reaction startles me, however. It makes no sense. I’ve been with hotter people, naked people, people who weren’t grumpy, boring nerds who hate me. If I’m getting hard from talking about birds with Ben, I must have come really close to dying out there in the snow.

Yeah, that’s gotta be it. This is just relief at being saved. It’s a damsel-in-distress reaction. He came out there and rescued me. I needed his help walking back because my feet were so cold and miserable. Hell, I even needed his help getting into the tub.

My mind flashes back to him undressing me, his hands accidentally brushing bare skin, a charming flush lighting his cheeks as he pretends not to look.

My cock twitches.

“God damn it,” I grumble, sinking back and grabbing it.

If this is what my body wants right now, fine, but we are having a serious talk later about boundaries. It can’t be Ben. Anyone but Ben. This must be a temporary condition because of today’s unfortunate adventure. That’s all. I’ll wank it out and never think about Ben again.

This time, though, this time I will apparently think about him a lot.

The second I close my eyes to search my brain for an appropriate fantasy, my mind goes right back to him. I try to think about twins instead, or maybe that cute, shy freshman on the tennis team, but nothing sticks. No matter how hard I try, my thoughts stray back to Ben, his eyes, his hands, his soft voice as he drones on about birds. Holy shit, I’m jerking it to a guy talking about birds. This is a new low, but despite all my protests, it works. I let my brain fixate on him as I stroke myself, and soon I’m ruining the nice warm bath Ben drew for me.

I rub a hand over my face, then get myself up as quickly as I can. I don’t want to sit here and stew in this — either my thoughts or the water I just dirtied. I drain the tub while toweling myself off a little too roughly, all the while doing my utmost not to relive the fantasy that got me to the edge. If I don’t think about it, maybe I can pretend it didn’t happen. A temporary blip, one I’ll soon forget all about.

Yet when I trudge back to my bedroom, I find Ben’s bedroom door tightly shut against me. The house is quiet, like we’ve drawn battle lines in order to maintain a truce. If I stay in my room and he stays in his, we’ll get through this fine. Except we’ve already ruined that, haven’t we? We’ve already crossed those lines. It’s only a matter of time before the truce fails.

I return to my room, warm and dry for the first time in way too many hours. I replay the whole day, wondering where it went so weird, cringing at some of the things I said. I really didn’t need to tell him about Pepper. She was a bird Mom got me growing up. That’s not a memory I should have shared with Ben of all people.

Too late now. The nerd knows I have a thing for birds. He’s seen the evidence etched into my body.

Was he serious about seeing more of this place once the snow melts? For a moment, it almost sounded like he was inviting me out with him. He’d probably be a great guide on a hike. I bet he can name every species of tree. It sounds kind of fun, but it would be suicidal to ever admit that. Just another blip.

They’re starting to add up.

I run my hands through my hair, pacing my tiny bedroom. This trip started annoying, but now it’s downright disastrous. I have to get out of here before I start seriously crushing on the last person in the entire universe I should be thinking about.

I flop down on my bed, and I must fall asleep without realizing it, despite my churning thoughts. My misadventure in the snow must have exhausted me more than I thought. I startle awake some time later, bleary and disoriented. The light filtering into the room is wane and watery. My stomach growls. My mouth is tacky and dry. It seems my body cannot survive on baths and jerking off alone.

I drag myself out of bed, rubbing at my eyes. Everything is stiff and achy, like I ran a 10K. My legs and shoulders creak with soreness as I stretch. What the heck did I do to myself today?

I leave the bedroom, hoping to at least fix the hole in my stomach. Ben will get pissed, but come on, we can’t starve ourselves. I must be entitled to another package of instant ramen by now.

His bedroom door remains shut. Maybe he locked himself away and freaked out for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t shock me. If my head feels like a mess because of what happened this afternoon, he must be ten times worse. Part of me hopes he is. Misery loves company, after all, and it’s always gratifying to know the person you jerked it to might be thinking of you as well. He got an eyeful of me in that tub, and part of me can’t help but hope he liked what he saw.

I pad down the stairs. If I can’t get my hands on the ramen (maybe he’s locked it up by now), I should at least have access to my booze, and boy, could I use a drink after all this. In fact, by the time I reach the kitchen I’m resolved to pour myself a stiff drink either way. This has been a day, and I could use something to take the edge off it.

But when I reach the pantry, I startle back, almost bumping into the kitchen island in my haste to get away. Ben jerks to his feet in the pantry, his laptop in his hands as he updates his infuriating spreadsheet.

“You’re awake,” he says.

“Yeah. Um…” I run a hand through my hair, but sleeping on it the way I did almost certainly left it wild. Not that it matters. It’s Ben. Who cares if he sees my hair looking messy?

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Hungry,” I say.

“Well, there’s more ramen. I could, um — here.”

He thrusts a packet at me. I grab it and back away before remembering I came here for more than that. When I enter the cramped pantry, however, Ben’s eyes go wide.

“Wh-what are you doing? You should have everything you need,” he says.

“I need a drink,” I say as I squeeze past him, trying not to think about the way our bodies brush against each other. “And so do you, probably.”

I snatch a bottle of vodka from my bag, gripping it by the neck as I shuffle past Ben, our bodies far too close once again. I hear him suck in a breath that he doesn’t release until I’m out of the pantry and setting my booze and food on the island.

He follows me out. To my shock, he sets his laptop on the island, then closes it and sits on one of the stools.

“You’re right,” he says.

I raise my eyebrows. “I am?”

“Yes, it seems like we could both use a drink,” he says. “Though I’ll have to add it to the spreadsheet.”

A beat of silence falls. Then Ben looks up with the thinnest hint of a smile on his lips.

“A joke,” I say. “That was a joke. Benny, I’m so proud of you.”

That charming flush creeps into his cheeks. I bustle around the kitchen, searching for glasses and the ginger beer I stored in the refrigerator. I set it all out, then start popping off lids and mixing ingredients.

“It’s missing lemon,” I say, “but I figure this isn’t half bad for an improvised recipe I have to make from whatever I happened to bring.”

I push a cup toward Ben, who takes it gingerly, and keep a second for myself.

“What is it?” he says, peering skeptically at the drink.

I lift my glass and tilt it toward him. “A very half-assed Moscow mule. Drink up.”

He raises his glass reluctantly, but tips it against mine. Then we both knock back a gulp. The burn of the ginger beer tingles in my throat and warms my empty belly. I don’t realize that I closed my eyes in pleasure until I hear Ben coughing across from me. He sets down his glass and pounds at his chest as his face goes red.

“Why is it so spicy?” he manages.

I can’t help but laugh. “It’s the ginger. It’s supposed to be spicy. You going to survive?”

He catches his breath, rubbing at his chest. “Yes, I think so. It was just … surprising.”

“You really don’t get out, do you? How are you a college student yet you know nothing about booze?”

“I have more important things to focus on.”

“Ah, that’s right, saving the world and all that?”

I meant it half-jokingly, but Ben just looks at me and says “yes” without a trace of mirth.

My body tingles, and it has nothing to do with the mule. I take another sip to cover up the reaction, but the stirring in my stomach isn’t a yearning for food. Ben really intends to save the world, as much of it as he can save. Even if it’s a single bird, a single tree, a single rock, I know he’ll give it his all, and there’s something shocking and beautiful about that kind of single-minded dedication to an ideal. Have I ever cared that much about anything?

“We should make that ramen,” Ben says.

He slides off his stool and starts gathering supplies, filling a pot with water and setting it on the stove to boil. He takes out two packets of instant noodles and puts a colander in the sink.

“I can help,” I say, hopping off my stool.

“That’s really not necessary,” Ben says.

But I’m already in motion, joining him at the stove. I grab one of the packets, meaning to read the instructions on the back, but he reaches for it at the same time, and his hand ends up on top of mine. The warmth of his skin washes through me in a burst, and I nearly jerk away.

“It’s just noodles,” Ben says, but his voice is low and scratchy. “I don’t need your help.”

I edge a little closer, drawn in like a moth heading toward the only light in the room. I spread my fingers so his fall between mine, so we’re standing there intertwined.

“I want to help,” I say.

Ben turns his head, and he’s so, so close now. The kitchen lights glare off his glasses, but it isn’t enough to hide the way his eyes flicker all over my face. Heat dusts the tops of his cheeks, and his lips form a tight, tense line that I yearn to pry open with my tongue.

I give in to the urge, leaning toward him, tongue gliding along my lips as I imagine the sounds I’ll drag out of his throat—

And that’s when the power goes out.