Something Like Winter (16 page)

“
I’m just going to wash
you.” For some reason, Tim found the idea erotic. After a couple
more suspicious looks, Ben came close. Tim met him halfway, letting
their bodies press together as he worked shampoo into Ben’s hair.
They both laughed at the process, but it turned Tim on like crazy.
He went for the liquid body soap next, letting his sudsy hands rub
all over Ben’s body, running them into every nook and
cranny.

“
Now I’ll wash you,” Ben
said. He hadn’t rinsed off yet. Instead he grabbed Tim and pulled
him into a hug, the soap acting as lube, Ben’s thin body squirming
against his muscles.

“
Way better than a loofah
sponge,” Tim said, leaning back to squirt more soap between
them.

Ben’s hand found their
cocks, squeezing them together before he started pumping. Tim went
for those lips he was so crazy about, but after a few kisses Ben
turned around, having something else in mind. That was another
first that had happened during Christmas, and they didn’t do it
often, but Tim would never turn down the offer.

He grabbed the real lube, a
small bottle he kept hidden behind the cluster of shampoos and
conditioners. Ben was already going wild, grinding his butt against
Tim’s crotch. Only when Tim moved away to apply the lube were they
both more cautious.

Tim let his fingers explore
first, whispering into Ben’s ear occasionally. “You okay? Does that
feel good?” All he got was nods and moans in response, so Tim added
more lube to his dick before he pushed inside a little
bit.

This killed him every time,
just as much as Ben’s songs did. There was something so undeniably
emotional about the act, so bonding, that it was a miracle he
hadn’t already let loose those three magic words. Tim could say
them without lying, if he really wanted to. If they woke up
tomorrow to find the rest of the world obliterated, Tim imagined
it’s all he would say.

“
Harder,” Ben
hissed.

That was new! Tim wrapped
his arms around Ben’s torso, hugging him tight as he pumped faster.
He chewed on Ben’s earlobe, then rested his head against Ben’s neck
like they were spooning, but of course they were doing much more.
Tim was ready—had been for the last five minutes—but he held back,
monitoring how tense his boyfriend’s body was. When Ben’s breathing
quickened, Tim held back no more, his timing perfect. They came in
unison, but Tim didn’t let go of Ben until their fingers and toes
were wrinkled like prunes.

“
Next weekend,” Tim said
while they were toweling off.

Ben was getting the water
out of his ears like he couldn’t hear, but said,
“Really?”

“
Yeah. I’ll ask my mom to
make
chile rellenos
. She always makes too many. You show up spontaneously, and
I’ll ask if you can stay. Sound good?”

“
Yeah.” Ben smiled. “You
won’t be sorry.”

Looking into those sweet
cocoa-brown eyes, Tim couldn’t help believing him.

* * * * *

The smell of battered
peppers frying in canola oil filled the house, making Tim’s stomach
grumble. Or maybe it was churning because of nerves. He paced the
front room, wondering what was taking Ben so long. Dinner was going
to be served any second, and if he didn’t get here—

The doorbell rang, Tim
sprinting to answer it. Ben looked good. Almost too good. They were
supposed to be catching a movie, or so the story went, with Ben
showing up a little early. But the dress shirt he wore, while
smoking hot, seemed too dressy for two guys catching a flick
together. Two straight guys, anyway.

“
Get inside!” Tim
hissed.

“
And hello to you too,” Ben
said.

“
Just stay here. I’ll be
right back.”

Tim dashed to the kitchen.
His mom was singing in Spanish while poking at the peppers in the
frying pan, occasionally turning or moving them to a dish lined
with paper towels.

“
Hey, Mom,” Tim said,
coming up beside her. “Smells good!”

Ella smiled and kept
singing. She always got like this when preparing Mexican food, the
sights and smells whisking her back home again. Maybe that’s why
she always made too many.

“
You know that friend I’m
going to the movies with? Well, he showed up early and hasn’t
eaten.”

His mother stopped
singing.

“
I keep telling him what
real Mexican food tastes like and how it’s different from the
Tex-Mex around here, so I thought maybe he could stay.”

“
Why don’t you ever bring
your girlfriend by for dinner?”

Tim’s stomach sank.
“Because she eats like a bird. So what do you think?”

His mother was quiet a
moment.

“
Please?”

Ella dropped a couple more
peppers into the oil. “Set another place at the table.”

“
Thanks!”

Tim kissed her on the cheek
and ran back to the entryway, feeling twice as nervous now. Ben
didn’t seem too comfortable, either. He was staring at the stairs
he had snuck up so many times at night, but when he saw Tim, he put
on an easy smile.

“
How’d it go?”

“
We’re good. I hope you’re
hungry.”

“
Starving!”

Tim took a deep breath.
“Look, I was thinking. Just let them get to know you this time.
Don’t play the gay card. Not tonight.”

“
Tim—”

“
Some other time,
okay?”

Ben’s expression was grim,
but he nodded. The knot in Tim’s stomach loosened slightly. Then he
remembered he had to set an extra place at the table. He was doing
so when his father came in the dining room, followed by his mother
a second later, carrying the peppers.

“
Mom, Dad, this is my
friend Ben.”

His father’s brow
furrowed.

“
He’s staying for dinner,”
Ella explained. “
Gordito,
get the rice from the kitchen. Your friend can
bring the salad.”

“
See?” Ben said when they
were in the kitchen. “I’m part of the family already.”

Tim didn’t laugh. Was it
too late to bail? Couldn’t they slip out the back door and
disappear? The atmosphere at the table felt tense when they
returned and were seated. Ben had met his match this time, Tim was
certain. At least Ben was prepared. Tim had coached him as best he
could, starting with the way his family said grace. Without any
prompting, Ben bowed his head before reaching for any food,
intoning the words seamlessly along with the rest of his
family.

“
And thank you to the
Wymans for being kind enough to share this food with me,” Ben added
at the end.

Tim glanced at his parents.
His mother appeared pleased or amused, but his father watched with
stoic puzzlement. Tim helped his mother serve. Ben made a big deal
over how good the food tasted, launching into a big speech about
how interested he was in Mexican culture, and how he had done a
paper for school about Mexico City, where—surprise!—Tim’s mother
just happened to be from. To Tim it all sounded phony, but his
mother laughed at all the right moments and seemed genuinely
flattered by his interest.

Tim was sure they were
doomed when Ben started talking sports with his father, but that
went even better. Ben got Thomas raving about the Kansas City
Chiefs—a smart move since it meant Ben spent most of his time
listening and nodding. Tim stopped waiting for the world to end and
focused on stuffing his face. Really, this was nice. Usually when
Tim ate with his parents they spent most of their time talking to
each other. Now, with Ben playing moderator, they were treated like
the couples his parents occasionally entertained.

“
It is so nice to finally
meet one of Tim’s friends,” his mother said. “He’s been so
protective of his social life since Kansas.”

“
Not protective,” Tim said.
“I just like going out instead of staying home. I’m too old for
sleepovers, you know.”

Ben’s mouth twitched with
amusement, but he hid the smile, thank god. They weren’t playing a
game here!

His mother turned to Ben.
“Do you know his other friends? His girlfriend?” Mrs. Wyman
asked.

Tim nearly choked on his
food. He hadn’t thought to brief Ben about this. Romance was his
mother’s passion. She loved her husband more than anything, more
than him, so the one aspect of Tim’s world she always inquired
about was his love life. If he didn’t have a girlfriend, she
obsessed over it, so it was easier to lie and say he had one. “Of
course he knows Krista!”

Ben didn’t miss a beat,
even if his voice was strained. “She’s really pretty. Popular
too.”

Tim’s mother was pleased.
“And what about you? A fair-haired boy like you must also have a
pretty girl.”

“
Well,
actually—”

Ben had that look on his
face, so Tim kicked his leg under the table. Their eyes met for a
fraction of a second.
Krista?
that look said.
For
that,
I’m telling them.
And to drive the point home, Ben kicked him
back.

“
I have a
boyfriend.”

The words were out.
Forever. Ben had spoken them and couldn’t take them back. His
mother appeared puzzled, maybe wondering if her near-perfect
English had failed her. His father cleared his throat repeatedly
like he had swallowed a bug.

“
He’s really great,” Ben
pressed on. “Goes to the same school as we do.”

Tim was sure Ben was going
to out him to his parents, right then and there. But then Ben
started talking about Mexican cuisine, as if the bomb he had
dropped was nothing more than idle chitchat. And Ben kept talking,
tossing out subjects that his parents grasped on to because they
were much more comfortable. By the end of the meal, it was like
none of it had happened.

“
If I knew one of
Gordito’s
friends was
coming by,” his mother said, “I would have made
tres leches.
”

“
Three milks?” Ben
tried.

Tim chuckled. “It’s a type
of cake.”

His mother smiled. “And
it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“
Yeah,” Tim said. All
right, enough weird family time. “We have to get going or we’ll
miss the film.”

Ben insisted on staying to
help clear the table, Tim practically shoving him out of the house
afterwards. Not because he was upset, but because he couldn’t wait
to be alone. He kissed Ben the second they were in his
car.

“
That was awesome!” he
said.

“
Yeah.” Ben gave a humble
nod. “I think I did okay.”

“
You were incredible! You
got more conversation out of my parents than I have in the last ten
years.”

Ben smiled. “They didn’t
seem so bad.”

No, they didn’t. Maybe the
silence over the years had been Tim’s fault. He could learn a lot
from Ben. Tim started the car and revved the engine.

“
Where are we going?” Ben
asked.

“
To the movies.”

“
On a Saturday night where
everyone can see us?”

Tim grinned at him and
nodded. Why the hell not? Ben had been right this whole time. There
wasn’t anything to be scared of. Once they were cruising down the
street, he reached over and took his hand.

“
There’s just one thing I
don’t understand,” Ben said.

“
What?”

“
Why did your mom keep
calling you
Gordito?
”

Tim groaned. “It’s just a
pet name, like how your mom calls you ‘honey’ in
English.”

“
Oh.” Ben mulled this over.
“Well, doesn’t
gordo
mean fat?”

“
Mm-hm.”

“
So your mom is basically
calling you ‘fatty?’”

“
I was a big baby!” Tim
said defensively.

“
A fat baby?” Ben asked
before laughing.

Tim smiled. “Hey, all this
muscle had to come from somewhere!”

“
Well, in that case I’m
glad.” Then Ben added, so quietly that Tim almost didn’t hear him,
“
Mi Gordito.
”

* * * * *

When Tim returned home that
night, his parents were still awake. That wasn’t so strange,
considering the hour, but normally they would be in their bedroom
by now, watching TV or whatever else they got up to. He was glad
that he and Ben had decided to play it safe tonight, because his
parents had been waiting for him.

“
Sit down.”

His mother was already
seated on the living room couch, his father standing over her with
arms crossed as he waited for Tim to do what he was
told.

“
What’s going on?” Tim
asked.

Ella patted the couch. “We
just want to talk to you.”

Tim took a seat at the
opposite end, turned slightly so he could see her.