Again

Chapter 05

"Shit," Ben muttered, his heart pounding in his chest as heat flooded his face. He caught his reflection in the foggy window of the diner, his cheeks blazing red like the cherries on the sundae he'd ordered. His hand absentmindedly brushed over his lips, still tingling from the near touch. The thought of what could've happened between them hung in the air, almost suffocating.

Ben imagined what it would feel like to kiss Wayne—slowly, gently, savoring every second. His mind painted vivid pictures of the ways he could make Wayne feel. The brush of their lips, the warmth of Wayne's breath against his skin, the sensation of his hand cradling Wayne's face. It wasn't just lust. It was deeper than that—Ben wanted to hold him, to be his protector, his constant, the one who would make him feel secure.

But the fear gripped him hard. If he confessed how he felt, would Wayne recoil? Would the fragile thing they'd rebuilt after all these years crumble? Ben told himself, over and over, that Wayne was probably straight, that he couldn't risk it. 

He told himself, again, it wasn't worth the risk. But the words tasted bitter now, hollow. His heart fought against his mind, a rebellion he couldn't contain. It would be better, safer, to hide his love in the shadows, remain the loyal best friend. The one who was always there but never crossed the line.

Wayne returned from the restroom, a calm expression on his face, though Ben could sense the undercurrent of tension in the way he carried himself.

"You ordered a sundae?" Wayne asked, his voice light but distant, as though trying to distract himself from something.

"Yeah," Ben replied, forcing a smile. "Let's share."

"Sure," Wayne said, picking up a spoon.

Ben's eyes followed every move Wayne made, from the way his lips closed around the spoon to the absentminded swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip. Ben's heart ached with a longing he could barely contain. He wished, desperately, that Wayne could see what was going on inside him—that he could understand the depth of Ben's feelings. But Wayne remained blissfully unaware, laughing softly at a memory triggered by the taste of the sundae, completely oblivious to the storm brewing beside him.

Outside, rain pattered lightly against the glass, but as they finished the sundae, the downpour became relentless. Wayne frowned as his attempts to call a taxi failed, frustration creeping into his voice.

"Looks like I'm stuck here," Wayne muttered, glancing out at the sheet of rain.

"You can ride me," Ben said impulsively, the words slipping out before he could stop himself.

Wayne's head snapped toward him, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What?"

Ben swallowed hard, his eyes flicking nervously to the car parked outside. "I mean, I can give you a ride...in my car." He pointed toward the window, feeling his stomach drop. What the hell is wrong with me?

For a second, Wayne just stared, then chuckled softly. "You okay?" he asked, shaking his head. "Stop playing with me, man."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ben mumbled, cheeks burning again. "Barely," he thought to himself. Barely holding it together.

The drive to Wayne's place was thick with silence. Ben gripped the wheel tightly, the tension between them almost tangible. He turned on the radio, hoping for a distraction, but every song seemed to be about love or desire, each lyric a cruel reminder of everything he couldn't say.

"Why are all the songs this dirty?" Wayne groaned, shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

Ben nodded; his throat dry. "I don't know. Maybe we should just turn it off."