Winter Oranges

  And Jason lost all sense of himself. He simply held Ben, kissing his neck, breathing in his scent, moving his hand gently up and down Ben’s length. He was dying to undress Ben all the way. To get down on his knees and truly explore Ben’s uncut cock, but Ben was overwhelmed, clinging to him, begging him in urgent desperate whispers not to stop, not to ever, ever stop, and Jason could do nothing but oblige him. His own erection throbbed with the need for release, but he ignored it, focusing instead on Ben, on the boy’s urgent moans and breathless cries, until finally, Ben tensed in his arms. He threw his head back, arching his spine, thrusting into Jason’s hand, crying out in relief. Except . . .

  Nothing happened.

  It was an orgasm—Jason was quite sure of that—but with no ejaculate. His surprise was enough to take his mind off his own unabated desire. Was this normal?

  “Oh, Jason,” Ben breathed, still hanging on to him, his body shuddering from the aftershock of his climax. “Oh God, Jason . . .” And then, what little strength he had seemed to fail. Jason thought he’d been holding most of Ben’s weight to begin with, but he realized he’d only been half right as Ben’s knees collapsed. Jason caught him, moving quickly to lower Ben to the couch.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ben said, clutching his chest. “I’m not usually this weak, but I spent so much energy yesterday walking. And then on the porch—”

  Now it was Jason’s turn to apologize, and he rushed to do so, but Ben smiled and put his slender fingers against Jason’s lips. “I don’t mind. I don’t care if I use up every bit of energy I have left. I don’t care if I burn out or burn up or burn away. Not as long as I get to spend whatever’s left with you.”

  “Could that happen?” Jason asked, terrified.

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope so. I like to think this will end eventually.”

  The words broke Jason’s heart. They filled him with a dark, terrible dread. “No,” he said, settling next to Ben and pulling him into his arms. “God, don’t say that.”

  “I mean it. I don’t want this to go on forever. You don’t understand how lonely it’s been. But now . . .” Ben nestled closer, and Jason rocked him and stroked his hair. “I thank God every day for sending you. And I know the priests back home would tell me that’s a terrible sin, but I don’t care. I’m just happy to have somebody be able to see me and hear me and . . . and now . . .”

  “Touch you?”

  Ben laughed self-consciously. “And that.”

  Jason held him, breathing in his scent, rubbing his narrow back. He’d predicted that Ben’s skin would be soft as silk. He was happy to learn he was right.

  “This moment,” Ben said quietly. “This is my new best moment ever. I’d still think it was a dream, except I never have them here.”

  “Now we know the trick,” Jason said. “There’s no reason we can’t do this again.”

  Ben lifted his head to meet Jason’s eyes. “Do you think so? Do you think it’ll work again?”

  He put his hand behind Ben’s neck and gently pulled him in for a kiss. “I have every intention of trying.”

  Ben smiled and wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. “You promised to do that other thing for me too.”

  “I did. And I will. I’ll do it now if you like.” The thought intrigued him, but then he remembered the strange orgasm that hadn’t been an orgasm at all. “At the end though,” Jason said carefully. “Is that normal for you to not finish all the way?”

  “That’s how it is here.” Ben gestured around the cabin, and for the first time, Jason actually took stock of Ben’s living quarters.

  There was the couch they were sitting on, and a small table in front of it, and the book still lying open on the floor. A single chair, in one corner. The fireplace and the fire. What he hadn’t noticed was how unnatural the latter was. There was no crackle or pop of burning wood. When Jason leaned toward it, holding out his hand, he felt no heat.

  “You can stick your hand right in it if you want,” Ben said. “It won’t burn you. Or at least, it doesn’t burn me.”

  Jason wasn’t inclined to test the theory.

  The opposite wall held only a window and single door. The only other items in the room were a bookcase along one wall, and a bed in the far corner, the blankets awry.

  “There’s no kitchen.”

  “I don’t eat here. Or drink. There isn’t even any water, and I don’t make water, either. I don’t sweat. I’m sure I should smell pretty foul after a hundred and fifty years, but I don’t think I do.” Jason silently agreed with him. Ben may have smelled like pheromones mixed with heaven, but it sure wasn’t a bad thing.

  “I don’t get hungry,” Ben went on, “even though I miss food like crazy, especially those first few years. I don’t get thirsty. It’s never hot or cold here. It’s like this, all the time.” It sounded horrifying, but Jason didn’t want to say that, and besides, Ben was still talking. “The asthma is different too. Sometimes I feel the tightness in my chest, like I used to when I’d have an attack, but it isn’t the same. I don’t think I actually breathe here.”

  “What? No. You must.” He definitely remembered Ben’s soft panting as he’d stroked him.

  Ben shook his head. “I’m not so sure. I mean, I think my body still goes through the motions, and it feels like I’m breathing, but I’m not sure it’s anything more than habit. Like if I stopped altogether, it wouldn’t matter.”

  Jason shuddered. “I’m sure it would.”

  Ben hesitated, glancing warily at Jason. “I know it doesn’t because once— Well, I told you about being stuck in the box.”

  Jason nodded. “I remember.”

  “What I didn’t tell you was that before I started walking, I tried to hang myself.”

  “What? Ben, no!”

  “It didn’t work,” Ben went on, his voice casual, as if they were discussing something as mundane as a car not starting. “I hung there for a while, and I started to panic, because it’s bad enough being trapped in this place for eternity, but to be stuck hanging from my neck all that time too was more than I could bear. But after a while—I’m not sure how long, maybe a couple of weeks—I managed to get myself down again.”

  Jason gulped. “Jesus, Ben. That must have been awful.”

  Ben shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” He leaned closer again, snuggling into Jason’s chest. “But you see why this is better,” Ben said quietly. “You see why I’d burn through every bit of energy I have left to be with you.”

  “Maybe.” Jason kissed the top of Ben’s head. “But hopefully that’s not a choice you have to make.”

  Ben stirred, tilting his head upward to smile alluringly at Jason. “Will you kiss me again?”

  Jason smiled. “Gladly.”

  This time, Ben was aggressive, pushing Jason backward onto the couch as they kissed. He began to eagerly unbutton Jason’s jeans.

  “You don’t have to,” Jason said, although the blood was quickly rushing back toward his cock, reviving the erection he’d lost as they talked.

  “I want to.”

  Jason didn’t protest. He groaned with delight as Ben wrapped his slim fingers around Jason’s cock.

  “It still feels good? Even though you’ve been mutilated?”

  It wasn’t a question Jason was expecting to hear, or a word that he associated with himself or his sex in any way. “Mutilated?”

  “Your foreskin. Doesn’t it hurt?”

  Jason laughed. “I suppose it did when it happened, but it’s all good now.”

  “I don’t want to do anything wrong.” And as he said it, Ben moved his slim fingers with exquisite slowness up Jason’s length. Jason caught his breath and pulled Ben into a kiss.

  “Not much chance of that.”

  Ben’s erection didn’t make it past about half-mast, but he seemed to enjoy himself nonetheless as he stroked Jason, urging him toward his own climax. Jason wondered if his orgasm would be dry like Ben’s, or if he?
??d ejaculate like usual. He didn’t care either way. He just wanted it to happen here with Ben, the two of them both solid flesh and blood—or as close to it as they were likely to get. He was torn between wanting to kiss Ben and wanting to stare at him every second, taking him in like oxygen.

  Finally, when his climax was so close he could barely stand it, he pulled back enough to see Ben’s face, and his full, red lips. Jason had one fleeting thought of what it would look and feel like to have those luscious lips around his cock, and then several things happened all at once.

  The first wave of his orgasm hit.

  He noted a distinct lack of semen.

  A smile bloomed on Ben’s beautiful face.

  And Jason started awake in the solitude of his bed, crying out in pleasure, thrusting into the mattress as he spent himself in his underwear. It was the most intense orgasm he’d had in ages.

  And here on this side of the globe, it most definitely wasn’t the dry kind.

  Jason’s first thought upon waking the next morning was that he’d had way too much to drink the night before. “Headache” didn’t even begin to describe the pain that consumed him. It began at the base of his neck and radiated up, through his jaw, past his temples, spiking over his eyes to culminate at some point on top of his skull. Even his teeth hurt. He didn’t dare try to open his eyes. He buried his face in the pillow and tried to remember what kind of party he’d been at. What kind of drugs he’d taken. Had Dylan given him something? Dylan always had a pocket full of pills.

  But no.

  No party. No Dylan.

  It came back to him in pieces.

  The globe. And Ben. Waking in the middle of his orgasm. And afterward, as he’d lain there still shuddering from the force of his climax, Ben had appeared. He’d climbed on top of the bed to straddle Jason and gazed down into his eyes.

  “I’ll come back,” Jason had told him. “If I fall asleep with the globe—”

  Ben had smiled and shaken his head. Sleep, he’d said, and it was as if Jason could hear him. The music box wasn’t running, but Jason knew Ben’s voice. He heard his laughter in his sleep and knew the cadence of his speech the way he knew the lyrics to his favorite song. I’m tired too. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  Jason had cleaned himself up and fallen asleep. He hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol, let alone anything harder, so why did it feel as if his head were an egg and whatever was growing inside had decided it was time to break free?

  He risked cracking an eyelid. Sunlight filled his bedroom, but he could tell from the angle of the rays that it was way past the time of morning when he usually awoke. Ben stood at the side of his bed, his face creased with worry.

  Now Jason was more confused than ever.

  He glanced at the clock.

  “One thirty?” He sat up quickly and regretted it immediately. He cradled his head in his hands and tried to think. How could he have slept so late? Granted he wasn’t exactly a morning person, but he never slept past noon. “What the fuck happened?”

  Of course, even if Ben were answering, Jason couldn’t hear him. He reached for the globe and turned the key.

  “Are you all right?” Ben asked immediately. “Are you sick?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ben wrung his hands. “I was so worried, and all I could think was how there was nothing I could do. I started imagining the most horrible scenarios, and I can’t even call for help. All I could do was stand here and fret. I’m worthless!”

  “It’s fine,” Jason said, massaging his temples. “You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine.” It was even possible his head hurt marginally less than before. Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  “Just give me a minute.”

  He stumbled downstairs and washed down a piece of toast with three Advil, a Tylenol, and a giant glass of water while his coffee brewed. He took the latter back upstairs with him to where Ben still waited in the bedroom.

  “I need a shower. Do you want to wait here, or do you want me to take you downstairs and turn on The Love Boat or something?”

  He meant the question to sound gentle, but his head was still pounding, and he knew by Ben’s distraught expression it hadn’t come out the way he’d intended. Or maybe it was only that Ben was beating himself up for making Jason wait on him again. Either way, he shook his head and sank slowly to the bed. I’ll wait here.

  “Okay. I won’t be long.”

  He downed half the mug of coffee while he waited for the water to heat up, and finally, he climbed into the tub and pulled the little lever.

  If there was any wrong in the world that couldn’t be righted by a hot shower, Jason had not yet encountered it and hoped he never did. He stood under the scalding spray, stretching his shoulders as his neck muscles relaxed. He breathed deep, imagining the caffeine and the drugs working their way from his stomach to his head. After only a few short minutes, he felt significantly better. But as his headache receded, his anger at himself grew.

  He hated the way he’d treated Ben. No, he hadn’t meant to be abrupt or cold, and he suspected Ben would forgive him in a heartbeat. But Ben deserved better. After everything that had happened between them in the last forty-eight hours, Jason’s sudden near-rudeness was worse than not calling after a spectacular first date. And it really had been spectacular. Now that his brain wasn’t being short-circuited by the pain, Jason remembered exactly how good it had been—first their shared masturbation under the stars, and then that magical time in the globe. He remembered Ben’s smooth, pale skin. The feel of Ben’s frail body in his arms. The way he tasted and smelled. It was enough to stir Jason’s blood, and suddenly he wished he’d brought Ben into the bathroom with him. Then he pictured Ben standing in the tub, still wearing his white shirt and waistcoat and heavy leather boots, and he laughed.

  No, maybe not in the shower.

  But the bedroom . . .

  Jason was still mostly wet when he emerged from the bathroom, a towel tied around his waist. Ben hadn’t moved from the edge of the bed.

  Do you feel better?

  “Yes.”

  I’m glad.

  It was so unfair to not be able to touch Ben. “Will you lie back on the bed for me?”

  Ben’s eyebrows rose fractionally, but he did as Jason asked, and Jason straddled him, looming over him to meet his eyes as Ben had done to him the night before. “I’m sorry I was an ass.”

  Ben shook his head. You weren’t.

  “I was. Last night was amazing. And the night before that too. That should have been the first thing I said to you this morning.”

  Ben smiled. I don’t mind.

  Jason eyed Ben’s perfect lips. He studied the line of his neck. His cock stirred against the towel. “I wish I could kiss you.”

  Me too.

  “I can’t wait to fall asleep again and do all those things to you I promised to do.”

  Ben’s image flickered and a smile spread across his face. His gaze moved down Jason’s body to the very obvious tent between his legs. Ben’s hand moved toward it, and Jason moaned, imaging he could feel Ben’s touch. Imaging how it would feel to have Ben remove his towel.

  Take it off.

  Jason obeyed, letting it fall aside. “Now what?” he asked.

  Ben traced the length of Jason’s erection with his weightless, intangible hand. He smiled flirtatiously at Jason. Practice? His raised eyebrows and the curve of his lips made the word a question.

  Jason’s only response was a low sigh—almost a whimper—and Ben smiled. He pointed at Jason, then jammed his finger pointedly into the mattress.

  “You want to be on top?”

  Ben nodded.

  Jason moved off of him, reaching first for the globe so he could give Ben his voice. He wound it up before lying down on his back facing Ben. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Nothing yet,” Ben said, moving closer. “I just want to look at you for a minute. Is that okay?”

  “I suppose.” Although he
squirmed a bit, partly because he was suddenly more self-conscious than usual, partly from sheer arousal. The sensual heat in Ben’s eyes was enough to drive him crazy. Ben leaned toward Jason’s naked groin. He stopped with his face only an inch from his erection. He parted his lips, as if he could breathe on Jason’s bare flesh, and Jason wished more than anything that he could feel the warmth of Ben’s breath washing over his aching cock.

  “You’re killing me here.”

  Ben smiled up at him—the most wickedly flirtatious smile Jason had ever seen grace those gorgeous lips. “I wish I could taste you.”

  “Surprisingly enough, I was thinking the exact same thing.”

  Ben laughed and straddled Jason’s hips. “You definitely seem to be feeling better.”

  “I am. The headache’s mostly gone. It was brutal, though.”

  “You’re still awfully pale. And your eyes are bloodshot. Are you sick?”

  “I don’t know.” He eyed Ben’s slender body, still perched across his hips. “I’m feeling fine at the moment though. You’re one hell of a distraction.”

  Ben smiled and leaned closer, as if they could kiss. His hand moved slowly in the vicinity of their overlapping groins, and Jason matched his movements, running his fingers slowly up the length of his cock, shuddering at the simple pleasure. But he was torn about how he wanted this to go, and Ben seemed to sense it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want you to use up all your energy. Not if it means spending another day with you trapped in that globe where I can’t see you. I’d rather have you here with me all afternoon and save the sex for another time.”

  Ben froze, his eyes wide.

  “What?” Jason asked. “Does that surprise you?”

  “A little.”

  “It shouldn’t. I love being with you. I love hearing you prattle on about Fantasy Island. I love the way you laugh. And I really love seeing you smile. I think I could stare at those lips of yours all day.” He put his fingers against Ben’s translucent cheek. He brushed his thumb over Ben’s lips. “I’ll take all those things over the few minutes we’ll have here.”

  Ben’s smile widened, his cheeks noticeably flushing at the flattery. He glanced pointedly at Jason’s still erect penis, which hadn’t quite gotten the message.