Blake & Ben (A New Beginning) - 4. Chapter 4 - "My First and My Last"

- BLAKE ABEL FOSTER -

Ben. Benjamin. Benny boy.

Just Ben, he told me, smiling, over FaceTime earlier this evening.

I'll call him whatever he wants me to. Because, as the rappers say, "I'm all about the Benjamins." But, I'm not referring to Benjamin Franklin on the one-hundred dollar bill, I'm talking about my boyfriend, Benjamin Jaxon Smith.

Ugh! I still can't believe it. MY boyfriend...

I have been smiling non-stop since we got back from the mall yesterday. My mother even noticed the drastic change in my demeanor.

Coming down the stairs for dinner that night, I walked up to her and planted a kiss on her cheek and told her dinner looked great. She shot Dad a quizzical look then looked back at me.

"Everything okay, honey," she asked.

"Yeah," I said, slipping the spears of my fork into my grilled chicken salad.

"You sure," she asked. "You feeling sick or anything? Did something happen?"

Chewing my salad and smiling I retorted, "Can't a guy be happy and give his mom a peck on the cheek without getting the third degree? Jeez!"

"Well, it's just..." she started, a warm smile spreading across her face. "...you haven't done that since you were a little boy."

Her smile made me feel good, but it also made me feel bad. I made a mental note to be a better son from now on - tell her I love her more often.

I could see, in her eyes, she was looking at me, not as her eighteen-year-old son; but, as her little boy. The little boy with his legs dangling from the chair, a scrape on one knee and food all over his face.

***

Later that night, I FaceTimed with Ben. It started out quiet, shy. I can't help it. There's just something about him. Now that we both know our true selves in one another, it's not just two new friends hanging out, getting to know each other. I clam up and go quiet. I've never been shy like this around another person. Hell, I've never felt this way about another person - not even Gavin.

Gavin had been the first relationship I'd ever had with another boy. Even though I liked him and cared about him back then, it was never remotely close to the way I feel about Ben.

When I see Ben, I am the definition of shy. And, I'm not trying to be cute, like the way a girl would act shy, you know, being obvious. My shyness is genuine. Looking at Ben, it's hard for me to breathe. Words get trapped in my throat. Butterflies flap their wings in my stomach, showing no remorse. My heart beats faster than it would if I just finished running a lap at football practice.

It's crazy what he does to me, just by looking at me. Even through the screen of my phone.

We barely spoke for the first couple of minutes, while FaceTiming. I didn't know what to say. I tried looking like the TV in my room had part of my attention - that's why I wasn't saying much. Truth is, my TV wasn't even on.

So, to pick the conversation back up, I asked if he wanted to come over tomorrow. That got us talking. And not even about anything dirty - even though those thoughts and scenarios were playing in my head like a movie. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing, too.

He smiled a big smile before asking, "So, about this guitar Chris was talking about. Think I could get a private concert or something tomorrow?"

I immediately tensed up. I don't like playing around other people. That's why I always lock my door when I pick up my guitar. It's the one thing that I have that is truly mine. It's my music. I like to play around and add my own spin on music from other artists. As of late, it has all been sad songs. But, thanks to Ben, I've begun playing happier songs. Songs about being in love.

"I, uh..." I started, biting my bottom lip. "We'll just cross that bridge when we come to it."

"But, I want to hear it," he said, puckering up his bottom lip.

"That is so not fair," I said smiling. "You can't stick out the bottom lip like that!"

He did it again, re-angling the camera and sticking it out even farther. He then returned it to his face, smiling.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Chris was texting me earlier. We got to talking about you, of course, and he mentioned how awesome you are on the guitar. And then he said, and I quote, 'His voice is amazing, too. He's a panty dropper alright. Too bad he's not straight. He'd have more girls then he'd know what to do with, with a singing voice like that.' To which I replied, 'Well, thank God he's not straight.'"

I smile, but look away from the phone. He's not going to let this whole guitar thing go. And I was right.

"So, my question is, why does Chris get the golden pass on getting to listen to you play, and I don't." Ben asks, with a smug smile on his face.

"Is that jealousy I detect," I replied, smiling.

"Maybe," he says, smiling even bigger.

"Okay, well, Chris came over one day while I was playing in my room, heard me through the door and quietly opened it. I didn't even know he was there while I was jamming out, like an idiot, to Ed Sheeran. Scared the shit out of me when I turned around and saw him standing there. Plus, he plays the drums so, ever since he barged in on me, we started having jam sessions out in his garage sometimes," I replied.

"Ed Sheeran? Okay... It's not a matter of 'will you' anymore. When are you going to play for me," he asked, determination in his voice.

"Again, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I said for the second time.

Just drop it already, Ben.

"Speaking of cumming to it..." he said, winking.

I chuckled pretty good at that.

"You're trouble," I said, biting my bottom lip and smiling.

BENJAMIN JAXON SMITH

Last night, Blake invited me over to his place to hang out for the day. His parents would be at work. We decided to make it an entire day together, just the two of us. Just the thought of being alone with him all day had me excited, in more ways than one.

He said to come over as soon as I woke up. He told me where they hid their spare house key and to let myself in, just in case he was still asleep and didn't hear me knocking on the front door. Needless to say, I didn't sleep worth a lick and was awake by 6:00 AM.

I know he said I could come over whenever I wanted to, but I figure this early might seem a little too crazy. Plus, his parents' vehicles are still in the driveway. Reluctantly, I force myself to lay back down in bed.

***

I shoot up immediately and reach for my phone. I take a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief when I realize only a couple of hours have passed. I stand up on my bed and pull the blinds open just in time to see one of the vehicles gone and the other one backing out. Only Blake's car remains in the driveway. I peer down into my own driveway to see that it, too, is vacant.

I quickly hop out of bed and slip on a pair of black Nike shorts and a green Aeropostale t-shirt. I slip my bare feet into a pair of white Nike tennis shoes and exit my room.

I nearly trip going down the stairs, in a hurry to get to Blake's. Once I'm outside, I jog up to his driveway. When I reach his front door, I find myself straightening my shirt. I look at my reflection in the glass on his front door and realize I forgot to do my hair.

Shit. Hopefully he's a sucker for that 'just rolled out of bed' look.

I slowly bring my hand up and knock on the door. I wait a few seconds and knock again. I'm about to turn around and grab the hidden key when I hear the door open.

"He-..." I say, trying to greet him.

But, the word gets trapped in my throat and I have to swallow it down. Blake is standing there, in nothing but his light blue and gray striped boxer-briefs, leaving nothing to the imagination. I can already feel myself growing in my pants.

He rubs his right eye, looking as if he just woke up. His hair is going every which way, so, I guess that would confirm that. My eyes then return to his chest, then his stomach and then his v-lines leading down to his...

"I feel like you're eyeball fucking the shit out of me," he says, covering up and smiling at me. "Staaaahp!"

I have to swallow again. I shake my head, noticeably, to clear all the dirty thoughts that just ran through my head.

"S-sorry," I stutter. "I can't help it. Look at you."

"Look at me," he asks, looking down at my crotch. "Look at you! You know... you could poke someone's eye out with that thing."

He winks at me and bites his lower lip. It takes me a minute, blinded by his perfection, to realize what he's talking about. I follow his gaze to the tent growing in my shorts.

"Ah, shit," I say, trying to readjust.

My attempts are futile. I love the comfort level of these shorts, but they are unforgiving. You pop a boner in these bad boys, they're going to let the whole world know about it.

I look up, smiling.

"So, can I come in," I ask.

It's Blake, this time, who has to shake the thoughts from his head as his eyes shoot up from my crotch and back to my face.

"I, uh-..." he steps back and clears his throat. "Yeah, come on in."

I step through the threshold and into his house. It's nice and spacious. Smells faintly like blueberry muffins. There must be a candle burning somewhere.

We stand there, kind of quiet for a moment. That's one thing I've noticed about Blake. Ever since we decided we were a couple, he's a lot quieter now - very shy. I don't mind. Makes him even cuter than before, in my eyes.

"You hungry," he asks, scratching his back.

"Goddamn right I am," I think to myself, eyes running up and down Blake again.

He smiles, catching my wondering eyes.

"I was referring to food, Benny Boy."

That stops my wondering eyes.

"I told you, it's just Ben," I say, trying to register a serious face. But, my façade doesn't last, I smile.

Truth is, I don't care what he calls me, as long as I'm his and he is mine.

He smiles again and leads me to the kitchen. I take a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen's bar as he walks towards the cabinets.

He opens one of them and peers into it, searching for what he wants. He spots it and slowly reaches up for it, which seems deliberate and obvious. His nearly naked body is stretched out before me and I can't help but run my eyes all over his body.

As if his eyes and smile weren't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, his ass is quite remarkable, too. My eyes trace down the curvature of his back and land on his ass.

I can't take it anymore, I'm about to erupt.

- BLAKE ABEL FOSTER -

I don't even need anything in this cupboard. Pick up on the signals, here, Ben. Do I really need to whip my cock out and smack you in the face with it or somethi-...

Before I can even finish the thought, I feel Ben's hands on my hips. Then I feel him poking me with his erection. I push back onto it.

I can hear his excited breathing behind me. I slowly sway my hips, rubbing my ass back and forth on his erection. It's almost as if it just come naturally to me. I've never thrown myself at anybody like this - not even Gavin. All we did was kiss. The sexual tension between us was pretty much non-existent. But, with Ben, I feel like a caged animal, begging for that sweet release.

Ben spins me around to face him. Immediately, his mouth is on mine as he pushes his groin into my growing member.

I don't know when it happens, but out of nowhere, his hand is down the front of my boxers and his hand is wrapped tightly around my cock. A moan escapes my lips. Meanwhile, his lips are trailing down my chin and moving all around my neck.

My head snaps back in ecstasy and my breathing becomes heavy.

"Oh, fuck, Ben," I say, in a whisper.

This only makes him tug even harder and faster. Inch by inch, his kissing lowers from my neck, to my collar bone. From my collar bone, down my sternum. Down my sternum, to my belly button.

My whole body begins to shiver with anticipation. His hand, still gripping my cock, pulls my cock out from the top of my boxer-briefs. I feel the warm breath from his mouth hit my dick and I have to reach back and grip onto the tiled countertop to brace and steady myself.

Suddenly, my cock is surrounded by the warm moistness of his mouth. It feels so good. I'm the definition of virgin. Nobody but me has ever touched my hard cock.

The mixture of pleasure and emotion running through my body right now almost makes me want to cry.

My hands begin slowly sliding through his hair. He looks up at me, licking the underside of my shaft. And call me crazy, but, suddenly, I realize I love him. I know it's a strange moment to realize you love someone - when they're sucking you off. But, looking down into his eyes, I feel like I've been hit square in the chest by a semi, hauling a trailer full of love.

Ben pulls his mouth slowly off my dick, and kisses the tip of it, causing me to flinch as a moan escapes my lips. He slowly brings the hem of my boxer-briefs up over my dick and returns to my level.

"Sorry," he grins sheepishly. "I couldn't help myself."

I have no emotion showing on my face as I glare into his eyes. His smile slowly fades and is replaced by worry.

Oh, God. He thinks he did something wrong. Say it. Just say it, Blake.

The worried look on his face is very apparent now. I feel his hands slowly slide off my hips as he begins backing away from me.

Feel free to say anything, Blake. Anything. Anything at all...

"I made a move too soon, didn't I," he asks. "Sorry. I shouldn't have..."

He's not returning to his seat, he's slowly backing out of the kitchen.

Goddamnit, Blake! Say it!

"Ben, wait..." I say, breathing heavy - nervousness shooting through my body.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he says, turning to leave. He's shaking his head and I hear him mutter an, "Idiot!" as he reaches the door.

"Ben, I think I love you," I say perhaps a little too loud.

He stops dead in his tracks and turns around. I can't close the distance quick enough as I quickly approach him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I smash my face into his chest and breathe in his scent.

God, why isn't he saying anything? Why won't he wrap his arms around me?

Suddenly, I feel sick. Feel like I'm alone, even though I'm hugging Ben. But, a hug isn't a hug unless someone reciprocates it. I'm about to release my embrace when, out of nowhere, he hoists me up. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist and look down in his eyes.

His eyes are moist and are quickly looking back and forth into both of my eyes.

"I fell for you the moment I saw you, Blake," he says, still looking into my eyes. "I love you, too."

I feel a huge, out of tempo, thud in my chest, causing me to go breathless for a moment as I lower my face to his and kiss him. My fingers intertwined with the hair on the back of his head.

We're both breathing pretty heavy now. I'm caught up and lost in the moment. I rub my left cheek with his right as I bring my mouth to his ear.

"Ben..." I begin, having to stop to catch my breath again. "...I want you to be my first."

My eyes are now moist, out of love, out of fear. I keep them closed for a moment then slowly open them. He pulls away from my face and looks sincerely into my eyes.

"I want you to be my first..." he begins, "...and my last."

God, I love him.

I nod. "My first and my last."

***

I open my eyes in the wake of what just happened in my bed. My head is on Ben's bare chest, my arm draped over his abdomen. My head and arm rise in unison with his slow and steady breath. His arm is around me, his hand resting on my bicep. The brushing back and forth of his thumb on my upper arm has stopped ever since he fell asleep.

We lost our virginity to each other. I still can't believe it. I'm expecting this to all be a dream. I'm just waiting to wake up, all bummed out, realizing it wasn't real. But, I haven't woken up yet. And to be honest, if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up.

I look across my bedroom, over the laundry and clothes that have been discarded on the floor in a fit of love and passion, and look out the window.

When did it start raining?

God, this is perfect sleeping weather. I could just snuggle up to Ben all day and listen to the rain. I scoff at myself. Sounds like that line from that Edwin McCain song.

I whisper the lyrics under my breath, "Lyin' here with you, listenin' to the raaain... Smiling just to see the smile upon you're face..."

Suddenly, I feel Ben's thumb brush my bicep again.

"These are the moments I thank God that I'm alive," he says, speaking, instead of singing, the lyrics.

He opens his eyes and looks down at me. I smile up at him, remembering his head resting on my shoulder, nestling the side of my face with his, as he slowly and gently entered me.

"I love you so much," I say, looking up at him.

He places both hands on either side of my face, pulling me up to him. He looks up into both of my eyes and pulls me into his kiss.

I feel him relinquish his grip on my face and I pull away. He reaches up and traces my eyebrow, around the side of my face, then down my jaw line. I see nothing but love in his eyes as he stared into mine, brushing the underside of my jaw with the side of his index finger.

"My first and my last," he says.

"My first and my last," I say, agreeing with him.

- BENJAMIN JAXON SMITH -

Blake lays his head back on my chest and cuddles with me for a bit. Occasionally making comments about how he loves listening to my beating heart, how he felt something the moment he saw me, too. He grabs my hand and interlocks his fingers with mine. He plays around with my hand for a bit, looking at it as he does so. A tear of happiness slides down my cheek.

"Thank you, God," I say, silently, to myself. "Thank you for bringing this amazing person into my life. He has my heart. He'll always have my heart."

Blake releases his grip on my hand, kisses my bare chest and gets up from the bed - climbing over me in the process, giving me a view of everything that is Blake Abel.

"I'm gonna' hop in the shower real quick. Care to join me," he asks.

I shake my head no. "I'm just gonna' get my bearings, here, baby. Hey... I love you."

He smiles down at me. He approaches the bed, leans down and kisses me.

"Keep my spot warm for me. I'll hurry it along," he says, walking to his dresser drawers to fetch a clean pair of boxer-briefs.

I can't help myself, I have to check him out again. He's too cute. Too perfect. Too... mine. My chest grows warm as I smile at that last thought.

He exits his bedroom and heads down the hall to the bathroom. I roll over and bury my face in his pillow, breathing in his scent. I can't help myself, I shake and kick my legs like an excited fan girl. I can't believe I'm no longer a virgin. I can't believe I lost it to someone I love, instead of a meaningless one night stand - like so many other people in this world do.

I roll to my side and sit up, swinging my feet over the edge of his bed. My feet land on the carpet below and I dig my toes into the carpet, looking around Blake's room.

I spot his guitar in the corner of the bedroom and rise to my feet. I kneel down and snatch up my boxer-briefs and slide them on before approaching the guitar. Standing in front of it, I can't help myself, I run my fingers across the strings. The guitar emanates a melodic hum from the vibrating strings. I smile and look down at the desk to my left. I spot a red spiraled notebook and pull out the chair in front of the desk, plopping myself onto it.

On the cover, in big bold letters are the letters B. A. F. Underneath it, there is a large heart that, at one point, had a large crack drawn down the middle of it. Now, crudely drawn over the crack, is a representation of a band aid with the letters, B. J. S. sketched in the middle.

My initials?

It brings a smile to my face.

I hope I can help mend that broken heart of yours, Blake. Make you forget about what that asshole did to you.

I open the notebook and see what appears to be poetry written on numerous pages. It takes me a moment to realize this isn't poetry, they're song lyrics. Lyrics from some songs I've heard, others I haven't. The ones I have heard of, Blake has tweaked them a bit, making it his own. I scan over the pages, not reading them in their entirety, because the first few lines on each page are already bumming me out, making my heart heavy for my cute boy.

I flip the page and begin reading some of the words written in his beautiful handwriting. But, soon after, I have to flip the page again. I can't bare to read it any longer. Makes me way too sad for him. I notice at the top of the next page, the date on it is yesterday's date. I lean over the notebook and start reading.

Suddenly, I feel Blake's arms wrap lovingly around my shoulders. I didn't even hear him come back in the room.

"Whatcha' readin', there, handsome," he asks.

I shoot up a bit, startled. He chuckles under his breath.

"Ah, shit. I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to be a snoop. Just... curious, is all," I say in panic.

"It's okay," he says as I stand up from the chair.

He takes my spot and looks down at the notebook.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, babe," I say, massaging his shoulders. "If only I could have moved here sooner. I promise you... you wouldn't have had to experience any of that."

He cranes his head down and lightly kisses my hand on his right shoulder, then leans forward.

"Did you read this one," he asks, referring to the page I just turned to - the one with yesterday's date on it.

"No," I reply. "I had just flipped to that page when you walked in."

"Well," he says, leaning over to grab his guitar from its stand. "If you didn't get a chance to read it, I guess you could at least hear it. I mean... if you want to. You're kind of the inspiration behind this one," he says with a hopeful smile.

Like he even has to ask. I sit on the floor, at his feet. My legs stretched out in front of me, leaning back on my elbows.

He strums on the guitar a couple of times, trying to find the right note. He lets out a deep breath, looking down at me with a shy, nervous smile.

"H'okay... Here goes nothing," he says.

He begins strumming the rhythm of the song, watching his fingers on the fretboard as he does so. He slaps the base of his guitar every few seconds, keeping the beat. And finally, I get to hear his beautiful voice.

He begins singing a song I'm all too familiar with - a song about love. A song about making two reflections into one. In the song, Blake tells me there used to be a vacancy that set in his heart; but, now, I own that space. He is so damn cute while singing. He's constantly closing his eyes and bring his eyebrows down, face full of emotion, as he hits high notes or holding a long note. He's sure to find my eyes with his from time-to-time, making this as personal as he can for me. And, I'm not going to lie, I have to fight back those little preemptive breaths that hit you right before you cry.

He hits the final note, and takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. I'm already up on my feet, hands encircled around his face. I lean in and kiss him over his guitar. I lean back a bit and look into his eyes.

"That was..." I search for something to accurately describe it, "...there are no words, besides beautiful, amazing, perfect."

I lean in and kiss him again.

"Don't suppose I could get you to play me another song," I ask, giving him my best rendition of puppy dog eyes.

He smiles at me, shaking his head back and forth. I stick out my bottom lip and make it quiver.

His eyebrows raise and the smile on his face gets bigger.

"Again, that is so not fair," he says.

I continue pouting until he exhales, loudly, and says, "Fine!"

He looks at the fretboard on his guitar again, placing his fingers on the right chords and strums his guitar.

"When your legs don't work like they used to before..." he sings.