'39

Three

Joe found that he and Ben were once again slipping into a comfortable rhythm with one another. They were painting and drawing and reading great American novels and even some English ones that Ben had persuaded him to read.

It was like how it was when he had first arrived and the budding friendship was back on. They went almost everywhere together, spending their time speaking of this or that. The only difference now was what they did behind closed doors.

Joe refused to put a name onto it. They weren't courting one another or going out on dates. He wasn't about to hand over his senior pin to the man nor was he willing to accept anything of the sort of Ben. When they would go out for a night on the town, they didn't sit close or hold hands.

Shit, with Joe being as frantic as he was, he was surprised he even bothered going out anymore. Ben wanted to enjoy his last few weeks in the town and who was Joe to deny him? They spent their time wisely, putting up a good show for all those around them. Ben was still his tutor, still spoke curtly to him around his parents and house guest.

They were friends, but a professional relationship was still to be kept, at least to the public eye. Once they were alone however, the facade was gone and the two would be as close as men could be. Joe found that kissing had quickly become one of his favorite activities. He used to watch Rami and Lucy kiss in the corner, back when he was the third wheel and he would choke back his own self indulged agony at the thought of being alone forever.

Yet there he was, laying in bed with an angel of a man, clothing gone and their lips smacked together as they swallowed one another moans.

They didn't have sex right away. Ben didn't push for it and Joe knew why. It took him long enough just to kiss him, getting intercourse involved would surely scare the young man off. They went slowly. Each day learning something new about one another.

He found that Ben's hands were good for more than just holding a paintbrush and that his pretty lips looked nicely wrapped around something other than a cigarette.

When they finally did cross that bridge, it wasn't as horrendous as Joe had feared. He was nervous as all hell but Ben was sweet and encouraging. He wasn't a virgin like Joe and talked him through it. When it was over and they were cleaned up, they laid together talking.

Ben spoke about his past lovers and what they had taught him. He never saw himself as a hopeless romantic. He knew they would never work out and was happy for what they had taught him along the way.

"Especially the first one. Dominque. She taught him how much I truly loved men," He had teased.

Joe knew how cliche it was to want to fall in love with your best friend or marry your first love. His parents had their own semi-romantic love story, but he never allowed himself to get lost in it. Life was too short to hold onto such fantasies.

Still. Being there with Ben didn't make the idea nearly half as terrible as he thought it would be.

They would do this often, almost daily. Lock themselves in one of the others room and have sex. It wasn't dirty enough to be called fucking. Not really. Every now and then they would get a bit heavy handed but it never got too rough. And Joe sure as hell wasn't about to call it 'making love' so sex would have to work for the time being.

Every now and then the two would find themselves feeling a bit adventurous. Sometimes they would sneak around the house like in the library or sitting room. They would hold hands under the table or kiss in the back yard. They had sex in the gazebo one night when the moon was bright and the wind was warm.

When they would go in public, the girls would giggle but Ben never had eyes for them. And some pricks would mock the way Ben held himself and call him a fag. He never gave a reaction, not until Joe did.