Ben-Sexual

##Tristan

Brandon declined the invitation to go to the gay bar with Millie and I again. I felt guilt down to my bones. The text apology I gave him went well in my opinion. Maybe Brandon just felt defeated by the rejection. I suggested another bar in the group chat with the plans. Brandon said he needed a decompression night. Millie felt guilty enough to cancel the night too. The whole conversation made me guilty and anxious. I felt like it was my fault for humoring Ben's request for a conversation. I should have just told him no.

I texted Katherine about it. She acknowledged my guilty feelings and offered to talk about it in person the next time we saw each other. She was slammed with her child, Dio moving back into her place from college. I wanted to see her badly but hadn't been able to due to how busy she was. I was wrung out and pent up, dealing with both poorly. My voice was still really girly and I wasn't growing any facial hair yet. I made an appointment with my endocrinologist to see if we could increase my dose of testosterone. It was really busy at work with boring ad work I really wasn't invested in. I missed Jill, who messaged me that she was fairing well in Berlin. She had started attending university there, majoring in German history. I was happy for her. I just wished we talked more. I was drinking more and drawing less.

I laid in bed thinking about Katherine, my cock so hard I couldn't focus on anything else most nights. I would slip my hand between my legs and stroke my cock with my fingers, wishing I wasn't so pent up all the time. I thought about Katherine's hot body, the way her purple hair swathed upon my comforter, her pert breasts aching for my teeth and her hungry mouth parted for me. Dear god, her mouth was a warm wet repast from the undying ache between my legs. My mind drifted to Ben, the sharp curves of his lips and long lithe fingers. I needed to feel them on my skin. I came imagining his mouth on mine and his fingers in my hair.

Weeks like this and Katherine suggested I go for a hike. I still hadn't seen her. It had been raining for weeks being the middle of spring in the PNW. Katherine said she would go dancing when she couldn't hike. I could go rock-climbing but dancing was free. The local gay bar was really chill too. I talked myself into it by Saturday. I wore a muscle tee and tight jeans, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. I was more foul tempered than pent up tonight, the testosterone running my temper up to flaming when it wasn't making my guts ache in want.

I ordered a shot of vodka to help ease the irritation in my veins after I entered the small gay bar in Bremerton. It was busy inside, the local queers drawing to the one safe place for them here on this side of the water. They were an older, edgier crowd than the Seattle bars, carving out their existence in a place that didn't accept them in Bremerton. I paced to the dance floor and etched my frustrations to the wood paneling there. I let myself relax and focus on the lyrics. I could feel my anxiety at being watched dancing but I had practice dealing with anxiety I had all my life. I moved my arms and hips to the beat. I was always even-tempered until the T. Matt and I had only argued a few times and he was a giant toxic piece of shit. I facepalmed just thinking of why I had stayed with him. He was a mooch and transphobic. He wasn't even that good in bed. Jill hardly tolerated him. My mom didn't like him either and she believed she should love everyone like Jesus does.

I hadn't seen my mom since Christmas. I went to see her in Shoreline for the holidays but couldn't bring myself to see her longer. She got preachy after a while. She would call my aunts and invite them over to gang up on me about going to church. I hadn't really come out to her either, a battle I had been avoiding for months.

After a couple more shots, the dancing really started working to ease the jumbled feelings inside me. I was in a nice swishy place, not quite tipsy with the dense dinner I had. I danced to the bass, joining the others on the dance floor, moving and working. I danced until my brain emptied, my anxiety faded and my frustration turned to sweat on my brow.

I joined the gaggle outside to get some air and cool my heated skin. The spring air in Bremerton was damp and windy, the trees swaying below the stars. The moon was full, casting a halo on the clouds before it. I leaned on the wood fence around the patio and resisted the urge to pull out my phone.

I heard my name a moment later, pulling me out of my admiration of the evening sky. I turned and there was a certain stately silver fox looking at me. My eyes went wide as plates as I said Ben's name in surprise. He lived in Seattle. What was he doing all the way over here in Bremerton?

His own surprise was genuine as he gazed at my casual clothes and slicked back hair. "You did mentioning living on the peninsula last time we spoke. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

I blurted, "What are you doing all the way over here?"

His hand gestured casually, "I have a colleague that lives here I hadn't seen in some time. I decided to visit the local gay bar afterward."

Right. A lot of people commuted from Bainbridge and Bremerton to Seattle for work.

Ben's sharp grey eyes held me in place as he suggested, "Care to join me for another conversation?"

I agreed and we settled on one of the benches outside. He crossed his khaki covered legs and pulled out another slim cigarette. I was far less anxious this time even with the unanswered questions from our last conversation. My eyes wandered along the lines in his pine green cable knit sweater as he breathed the smoke from his lungs. Cigarettes didn't bother me. My dad smoked like a chimney before he passed. Ben was polite about it, holding the cigarette away from me and blowing the smoke away from me as well. Ben's pointed lips asked, "How has work been," as we descended down the rabbit hole of polite conversation.

I had vented about the boring ad jobs at work which he returned by complaining about emails, especially passive aggressive wording in them. He told me his colleague was from college and worked in the shipyard, like Katherine. The colleague, Jim was an engineer there and going through a heinous divorce with his wife. I told Ben about my proud fern babies and the orchids I just got for my bedroom.

I tried to talk him into a hike, "You seem pretty fit. I'm sure you would do great on some of the flatter trails around here."

His grey brows rose on his forehead, "Whatever gave you the impression I'm fit? I certainly don't work out."

"I mean, you look athletic. Also hiking isn't very intense."

"You are far more in shape than I am, young man. I'm easily 13 years older than you and smoke."

I supposed he could be 43. The grey in his hair was the sign he was older than me. I have a few grays but am mostly still brown. Katherine did say I looked younger than I was though. "I have to eat my body weight in kale weekly to balance out my sit-down job." I chuckled.

He smiled. "I prefer spinach personally. But I do eat a lot of salads."

I had an amusing thought, "So the fox is actually a rabbit?"

His eyebrow rose as he snubbed his cigarette. My cheeks flushed.

"Never mind. I'm being silly."

"Please enlighten me. I like it when your silly."

The smile on his lips was wicked. I was emboldened by the shots I had earlier. "Like a silver fox?" His eyes sparkled mischievously. I backpedaled a bit. "Not that I think you're that much older than me."

"Oh?"

I teased him, "How old do you think I am?"

His quick reply surprised me. "27."

Wow that was oddly quick. That age was pretty close to what Katherine said too. "I'll take the compliment but I'm 33."

"Oh that's even better."

"How's that?"

He just smiled wickedly again. "How old do you think I am?"

I didn't need to guess. He gave it away. "40." I gave him a pleased-with-myself look.

He was still being cheeky. "Good guess."

Were we flirting? I think we were flirting. It was nice. My anxious brain killed that feeling with a hammer fall. Was he queer? Was he transphobic? Damn it. We can't keep going like this. We had to have this talk. I wanted to sound casual about asking what kind of queer he was. Even if it did decide if we would be lovers or friends or not.

My stomach was in knots and my veins were hopping. I put my eyes on the ground, "So I was wondering if you were queer. You don't really flag as one."

His eyes landed on my face. "We are at a *gay* bar Tristan."

I fidgeted with my fingers, "Gay means a lot of things nowadays. I figured I would ask."

"Indeed it does. I am a gay man Tristan. Are you?"

My stomach clenched. Declaring my sexuality was easy. But I had to tell him I was trans if I wanted to sleep with him. I huffed in defeat. It was better to just tell him now before this got any further. Although I wasn't even closing to passing enough for him not to have guessed by now. Maybe that was a good thing. I faced him and put my temper in my mouth, pointing my tongue. "I'm bisexual." I paused, having to grit out the second part. "And trans."

His expression was unreadable. "I see. Thank you for telling me."

God there it was. My anxiety wound in a hard ball in my stomach. I felt like I was going to throw up. He wouldn't want me now. Why did it matter? He never suggested he did. It was just me and my wishful thinking. I wished he was Bi or Pan or whatever so then it wouldn't matter. Normally I feel like I could handle all this. But I was just so frustrated and wrung out lately that this felt like a kick to the teeth. I couldn't help but feel dejected by the whole situation. He was a handsome older gay dude and I unrealistically got my hopes up. I just needed to go home. I shouldn't have come out tonight.

I put on a fake smile and turned to him. "It was a pleasure to talk to you again, Ben."

I knew I was just running away from the situation. I stood as he looked after me, confusion on his face. I stepped toward the exit. His words stopped me, "Wait, Tristan. Where are you going?"

He was standing as I turned back. I sighed out a, "Home."

There was conflict on his face, "Did I say something wrong?" My brow furrowed. My tongue stuck to my teeth. His eyes were steel as he asked, "Are you not attracted to me?"

Oh god. We were going there. My brain scrambled for anything to say that didn't make me sound like a dick. I floundered, "I mean... I am. But...you're- gay."

His eyebrow rose and his eyes flicked to the side as he thought about his words. "Yes. As in attracted to other men."

"Are you attracted to me?"

Something sharp and deadly crossed his eyes. He licked his lips before saying, "I think that is grossly dependent on whether you assume I'm attracted to men or to dicks."

My anxiety whipped my stomach into a jumbled mess. I could do nothing but stare at him, wanting to puke.

He scooped his grey hair back from his face. He looked toward the street and back at me. "I'm sure you have heard some entitled gay man say something about certain body parts being gross. Or perhaps are convinced of some of the stereotypes about gay men regarding transgender folk. Both are generalizations and assumptions."

Fuck. I squirmed under his intense gaze. I huffed and stared at the ground. Damn I really stuck my foot in my mouth here. I just put his sexuality in a box. Which I should know better as a queer person. God I hated when people assumed I was female. I hated when people assumed I was being indecisive by being bisexual. I hated when people assumed shit about me and I just did that to him. I assumed he wasn't attracted to trans men just because he was gay and not bi. I shook my head, disgusted with myself. How many times did Jill and I have the conversation that attraction was to people and not parts. It's no wonder he's upset. I did the only thing I could.

I apologized, "God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. I should have asked what your sexuality meant to you."

"I agree." There was still an edge to his voice.

I felt like shit. "It's not an excuse but I'm a mess. I just came out a couple months ago and the testosterone is making me crazy. I can hardly pass."

He sat back down and pulled out another cigarette. He lit it and put it in his lips. "Come here and sit down with me."

I obeyed like a child about to get a lecture.

He didn't lecture me. He tried to console me. "I can't imagine how difficult that is. I can tell it's not easy. I personally think you pass just fine."

I gave him a disbelieving look.

"I mean your voice is a tad high but I've met bottoms with voices like teenage girls so..." He explained casually. "You're cute so I just assumed you were a bottom and that's what you were going for."

My voice was a tad high. Listening to my skill share recordings was a special hell I went through every week. I don't think I sounded like a teenage girl though. "I'm more of a switch really."

His eyes lit up and he suppressed a smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

I couldn't keep the nerves from my voice, "So you're attracted to men?"

"Yes. And you are a man, Tristan." His tone was direct and factual.

It was validating to hear him say it so plainly. He was right. I was a man. I had a dick. The ball in my stomach unwound. My brain was just being an asshole. "So you're attracted to me?"

"Yes." It was plain again. I looked at him and he put his hand on my cheek. It was a reassuring gesture more than anything, trying to tell me we were on the same page here. His thumb brushed my cheek. "Sorry. I never thought I'd see you again."

He went to pull away his hand. I held it up to my face and leaned into it. I needed the consolation after my thoughtless words. After these last hard lonely weeks. "I never thought I'd see you again."

He snubbed his cigarette and gave me a smile. "You know my favorite thing about you?" His thumb brushed my bottom lip. "Your mouth. Because of the witty things you say that make me laugh." My lips parted reflexively as his thumb pressed against them. The act was reverent and seductive. His thumb was teasing me and my cock pressed against my pants. My stomach was still a little tense. I found admiration in his eyes. God he was good. If only I could seduce people like he did.

My anxiety grappled with my dick as Ben massaged my lips with his thumb. I didn't let him stop. I didn't want him to. I was so fucking pent up. My anxiety quelled under the fury of my lust, left unattended to for weeks. In that lust I found my confidence like I did with Katherine. I kissed the pad of his thumb. He was taken back by my actions, eyes widening. I suggested casually, "I think I would be interested in teaching tonight, Ben." I kissed a line down his thumb to the curve between his thumb and fingers. My mouth ascended his long lithe index finger.

"Oh?" His voice was threaded with suggestion.

I made it to his finger tips when I locked eyes with him. "I would like to teach you all the other things my mouth can do."

I found the fire that prompted me to ask Katherine back to my place. The mind wrenching desire and unchecked temper fueled my brazen actions. I wrapped my lips around his fingers and slid them along my tongue. I heard him hiss in a breath. The salt of his skin coated my tongue. I teased the creases of his fingers with my tongue. I held his hand to my mouth, licking and pushing his fingers deeper along my tongue. I sucked as I pulled his fingers out of my mouth.

His nostrils were flared and his eyes were like mercury. I held them.

After a long moment, he gripped my chin. "I've suddenly become interested in teaching tonight too, Tristan." He slid closer to me, his face hovering over mine. My lips parted. I still tasted his skin on my tongue. His voice was low as he said, "I'd like to teach you all the ways your ass should be worshipped. By my hands, my mouth and my dick."

My breath caught in my throat. My dick strained against my tight pants.

His eyes were molten metal as he asked, "Should we go get a hotel room and share our learning experiences?"

I was held in rapture by his eyes. "We could go back to my place. It's not that far from here."

A smile quirked his lips. "As you wish."