Page 129 of The Bartender Special

Benny came with Jack's name torn from his throat, loud enough that Jack would've worried about the neighbors if he'd had any brain cells left for worrying. The sight of it, the feel of Benny clenching around him, the sound of his name said like that?

Jack had no focus left. No control in his arsenal.

He followed Benny over, burying his face against Benny's neck as he came into him harder than even he had expected.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

They just breathed.

In and out.

In and out.

Just existing together, warm and wet and tired.

Then, Jack carefully pulled out, tied off the condom, and set it aside to deal with later.

He pulled Benny against his chest as he laid back down, wrapping an arm around him, loose but absolutely there.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand automatically moving up and down Benny's spine.

He felt Benny shiver.

He heard the soft laughter.

“What?” Jack asked, worry pricking at his naked skin.

Benny pressed his forehead against Jack’s chest.

He could still hear him just fine.

“Consider Derrick Kennerly officially erased.”

* * *

The storm lasted longer than they’d expected.

Not that Benny could say he minded. The power had come back on just in time for them to shower, clean up, and settle back into bed with the excuse of rain still falling outside.

“You know, when we played two truths and a lie, I never found out which lie you told,” Jack said, propped up on a pillow next to him. His hair was wet. His lips were red. Benny decided not to get nervous about either detail. “You said you worked a wedding where you caught the groom cheating with the sister-in-law, you were going to jump in the water, and that you and Ethan have matching, very-well-hidden Beetlejuice tattoos.”

Something moved past the window. Even though the rain was still strong outside, there was a comfort about it now with Jack next to him. He felt safe. Content.

“Now I guess I know the second truth,” Jack continued. He was grinning. “I seem to recall a Polaroid-shaped something back there.”

Benny’s face flamed on, despite his comfort.

Jack dropped his chin to peer more closely at his change in expression.

Benny pushed at him.

“You know, I think you like watching me squirm,” he said. “Like, you go out of your way to watch my face turn red.”

Jack took the push with a dramatic fall back against the pillows.

“I won’t lie and say I don’t like looking at you, sweet cheeks, but after today, I think I found my favorite way to watch you move.” He winked. He actually winked.

Benny would look back at that moment—that seemingly silly banter—and realize that it was then that Benny forgot.