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All I've Ever Wanted

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The mission is nothing Ethan hasn’t already done dozens of times. Get in, intercept important data for the IMF, get out without causing too many unnecessary gunfights. The hard part is his cover, which, for the sake of his safety, has to go on even longer than actual gruntwork of the mission. And while it was fine to pretend to be engaged to Benji while they were focused moreso on the mission side of things, it’s absolute torture now. It was okay to share a bed with Benji before, because he had other things on his mind that weren’t, Benji Dunn is sleeping right next to me and I hope to God that I don’t spoon him in my sleep, but now the main objective is to be as convincing as possible in his fake engagement to Benji. And Jesus, does Benji play the part well.

It’s day twelve and they’re out at dinner, Benji looking over the other patrons in the restaurant with a hand curled under his chin. His other hand is on the table, fingers stretched out  enough that he can trace the tips of them against the palm of Ethan’s hand. It’s so innocent and yet erotic and intimate enough that it makes Ethan blush more than any pet name Benji has called him throughout the mission.

Their tranquil silence is interrupted when a waiter approaches the table and asks them what they want to drink. Benji sits up, looks over and Ethan, and, in a sweet tone, says, “Darling, do you want the wine this evening?”

Darling and love are Benji’s favorite pet names, Ethan has noticed, but even after being called each a hundred times, Ethan’s heart skips a beat when he hears either of them again. “I’ll let you choose.”

“Is there anything on the wine list that you object to?”


Benji smiles, taps his fingers against Ethan’s palm, and turns his attention back to the waiter. Whatever he orders is unknown to Ethan, because he’s immediately distracted by Benji’s profile, how cute his nose is, how absolutely gorgeous he is. God, he’s beautiful.

“Everything alright, love?”

Ethan blinks. “Hm? Oh, yeah.”

Benji sends him a skeptical look. “Are you tired of this trip already?”

“It’s been a long one.”

“It’ll be over soon.” Benji gives his hand a reassuring squeeze and Ethan’s head spins. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that Benji’s fucking with him on purpose. Not that Benji would ever been predisposed to playing with his feelings for no reason, but there’s a deliberateness to all his movements and words of affection that leaves Ethan wondering if they’re more measured than a forced consequence of pretending to be engaged would otherwise be.

The waiter returns much quicker than Ethan is expecting with a bottle of red wine. Benji sends him a smile and thanks him politely after he fills their wine glasses. Once he’s gone, Benji picks his glass up and takes a sip. “This bill isn’t going to be very pretty, just telling you now.”

“Good thing we don’t have to pay for it,” Ethan answers with a small grin.

“It’s the least the IMF can do,” Benji murmurs, voice so low that Ethan nearly misses it.

“At least we’re getting paid to splurge, hm?”

A soft grin lights up Benji’s face, and it makes Ethan’s chest ache. He’s always had this reaction about Benji, those little butterflies that appear whenever he spots those crinkles around Benji’s eyes or hears his lovely laugh, but this mission has only made it a thousand times worse. Every moment around Benji makes Ethan feel entirely stupid, just because he’s so in awe of everything he does, the way he talks and moves, what a brilliant mind he has.

“Are you alright, Ethan?”

“Mm-hm.” He clears his throat. “Why are you asking?”

“You keep staring at me.”

“Am I?”

“So it’s not intentional, then.”


Another smile flickers on Benji’s lips. “We’re engaged, darling.”

“Oh. Right.”

He cocks an eyebrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just thinking right now, sorry.”

“About what?”

“Silly things.”


Ethan shakes his head.

“As your fiancé, I think I deserve to know.”

“Benj,” Ethan breathes, holding back a short laugh.

He takes another sip of wine as mischief dances in his eyes. Theres no way that Benji isn’t fucking with him.

“What do we want to do after this?” Benji asks after a brief pause. “Go back to the hotel, walk around a bit, or…”

“I have some things I want to take care of at the hotel. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, love.” He sends Ethan a wink that makes him dizzy. “Are you going to try the wine, at least? It’s quite good.”

“I would hope so for the IMF’s sake.”

“We just have to find a dinner to go with it now,” Benji sighs. “It narrows down our options, at least.” He glances up. “Ethan, you’re staring again.”


“Is the wine good?”

Ethan hadn’t fully realized that he has been absent-mindedly sipping from his glass as Benji talks. “Yeah,” he says as he sets the glass down again.

“Just yeah?”

“It’s…” The light dangling over the table catches illuminates Benji’s face in a way that really accentuates his features. It catches in his eye, highlights the softness in his features, and god, he’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. “Words?”

“Maybe it’s good that we go back to the hotel. You’re out of it this evening.” Benji strokes his thumb across the back of Ethan’s hand. “Get you back to the hotel and tucked into bed, yeah?”

“I’m not tired,” Ethan mutters as his cheeks go rosy at the image of Benji doting on him.

“You work too much.” Again, Benji squeezes his hand.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he breathes.


“Touching my hand.”

“Oh.” He lets out a short laugh. “Does it bother you?”

“No, I was just curious.”

“It’s just something I’ve done with old boyfriends,” Benji explains, eyes darting away from Ethan’s. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in a relationship with anyone, I guess I let this whole thing carry me away.”

“You like doing this?”

“Um.” He laughs again, nervousness even more noticable. “Do you want me to answer in or out of character?”

“Either one.”

“Of course, darling.”

That’s an in-character response, but Benji says it with such a tender softness that it makes Ethan hesitant on any judgment. Leave it to Benji to make this difficult. “That narrows it down,” he settles on.

“Does it?” He takes another sip of his wine.

Shit, Benji is sexy when he’s being coy. If he’s being coy, that is.

Two can play at that game, Ethan decides, and he flips his hand so he can run his fingers down the tip of Benji’s wrist and back up to his finger pads. “Did you have a boyfriend who liked playing with hands like this?”

“Er.” Benji flushes. “Me?”


“Um, I’m the one who likes touching like this.” His face turns a darker shade of pink. “It’s just sort of natural for me to do, but I get if you don’t like it--”

“I like it,” he says simply, and the fact that he manages to get anything out at all despite the way his throat is closing in on itself astounds him. Benji is embarrassed, actually embarrassed. Maybe he’s not just playing a part. “What other things do you like?” Ethan murmurs. “For the believability.”

“Given that nobody has questioned us for this long, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to…” He hesitates as Ethan rubs small circles into the center of his finger. “I don’t want to, um, make you do anything more than you have to--”

“You like this.”

“Mm.” He clears his throat. “The waiter is coming this way.”

One part of Ethan is irritated, because he finally has proof that maybe all of this isn’t an act, that Benji is doing all of this because he wants to, but the other part is relieved, because that small sound from Benji had made Ethan half-hard in his pants and he needed something to interrupt him from jumping over the table and absolutely ravishing Benji on the spot. He turns his attention towards the menu while Benji places his order, only to get the same thing as him. Benji sends him a look after the waiter leaves.

“We both wanted the same dish?” Benji asks.

“I didn’t look at the menu.”

“Mm-hm.” He smirks. “Glad you trust my taste.”

“I’ve had to trust you with a lot more.”

“Mm-hm,” he hums a second time, but it’s slower, more drawn out. Their hands are still touching, even if it’s just barely, tickling their palms and pinching their fingertips like they’re too damn scared to do anything else. And it’s so difficult to read Benji, to know what he really wants and what’s all part of this mission.

“Tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Ethan murmurs, and Benji only raises an eyebrow in response. His questioning look dissolves into something much more shocked when Ethan grabs his hand and brings it to his mouth, moving his knuckles against his lips delicately. Throughout this entire mission, they had done nothing more than hold hands, sit close, and use pet names. Neither had ever brought up kissing, even something as small as a kiss on the hand or on the cheek. And at first, Ethan’s unsure of Benji’s reaction, why he looks so surprised, why his body tenses when his lips make contact with his hand, but then he shifts forward, like he’s expecting something more. “Has anyone ever told you,” Ethan starts softly as he unfolds Benji’s fist, “that you have beautiful hands?”

“Ethan, please.”

The sudden use of his actual name and not the typical darling he’s expecting pulls him back to his senses. He blushes, breaks the tense gaze between then, and allows Benji to pull his hand back. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, I made you uncomfortable.”

“That’s not--” Benji purses his lips and swallows. “Nobody’s ever told me that, no.”

This mission is driving Ethan fucking insane, because he meant that, god, did he ever mean it, but there’s no way to tell Benji right now, no way to separate what’s real and what isn’t until they’re alone. By that point, the situation might be much clearer, Benji might be completely disinterested, and Ethan could think much more clearly. Right now, though, in this busy restaurant, with Benji acting shyer than he’s ever acted before, all he can focus on is how much he wants him.

“I’m going to use the restroom real fast,” Ethan says.


He gets to his feet and strolls towards the back of the building. Once there, he takes time to splash water on his face and dab off any excess droplets before they roll down his face and onto the sleek button-up he’s wearing tonight. He just has to get through dinner, he thinks. Focus on dinner, not on Benji.

When he returns, Benji’s sitting with his legs crossed, turned a bit away from the table and out towards the rest of the restaurant. He has the phone the IMF gave him for this mission out, typing away at who knows what, and doesn’t give Ethan a second glance as he sits down again. “Is something wrong?” he asks Benji.

“Just remembered something.” He types a bit more before flipping his screen off, shoving it back in his pocket, and looking up at Ethan. “Work stuff.”

“Something important?”

“No. I can finish it tonight at the hotel, too.”

Ethan’s heart sinks. Maybe he’s not interested after all. “Oh.”

The friendly look on Benji’s face falters. “It’s nothing serious, really.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Uh--” He lets out a laugh. “I guess I thought -- I don’t know.”

There’s a brief pause before Benji asks, “Are you sure you’re okay, Ethan? You’ve been acting strangely all night.”

“I’m not meaning to.”

“I assumed that much.”

“I don’t know,” he says as he shifts in his chair, “I don’t think this is something I can talk about in the restaurant, you know?”

“Oh.” Benji doesn’t look any less confused than before. “This isn’t anything I have to worry about, is it?”

Ethan opens his mouth, sighs, but nothing comes out. The IMF trained him for a lot of things, but not how to tell his coworker that he’s had the stupidest crush on him for the last number of years and this mission has worsened it tenfold.

“It’s nothing about work,” Ethan finally settles on. “It’s just me.”

That doesn’t seem to placate Benji, but he ends the conversation with a polite, “Alright.”

The suffocating awkwardness is punctuated when a woman at a nearby table approaches them with a shy grin. “Do you speak English?” she asks.

“I think so,” Benji responds, and her grin softens a bit.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if maybe one of you could take a picture of my husband and me.” She glances over at a man sitting two tables down. “We never got the chance to have a honeymoon and here we are, three years later, and my mom wants pictures but I didn’t want to bother anyone that couldn’t speak English--”

“That’s alright, love,” Benji says. “It’s no problem.”

“Thank you so much.” She gestures at her husband to come over. “We just want a picture right here, since you can see so much of the restaurant. My mom is really interested in seeing all the sights and places, not just us, you know?”

“Understandable. My mum’s similar.” He accepts her camera from her and waits for her husband to take his place next to her. “Smile,” he says, and then he takes a number of pictures before lowering the camera. “That should do, I think.” He hands it back out to her.

Once she takes it back, she looks through the pictures quickly and nods. “Perfect, thank you again.” She lifts her head, looks over at Ethan, and then bites her lip. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“No, not at all.”

“I didn’t even think that maybe you could also be--” She grins anxiously. “Of course, I don’t want to make any assumptions, either.”

“You’re alright,” Benji tells her kindly. “He’s my fiancé.”

“Oh!” She smiles genuinely now. “You’re engaged!”

“This trip is a bit like our victory lap. Isn’t it, darling?” Benji grabs Ethan’s hand again and it’s like a jolt of electricity.

“Mm-hm,” is all Ethan can get out. “Pre-honeymoon.”

“Do you have a wedding date?”

“Stacy,” her husband says under his breath.

“Oh,” she gasps. “I’m sorry, was that too weird of a question?”

“We’re still planning that,” Ethan answers. “We both work a lot.”

“But we’re making this work, too.” Benji lifts Ethan’s hand and presses a kiss against the back of it without any hesitation. “I can’t wait to call this man my husband.”

Husband . It’s like Benji had activated some part of Ethan’s brain he didn’t know existed. His chest clenches and his mind spins and he feels absolutely breathless at the thought of being Benji’s husband . Just belonging to Benji, being his for always -- oh, fuck, his whole body is buzzing with the want.

“How sweet,” Stacy sighs. “I won’t keep you any longer, then. Thank you again.”

“It was no problem,” Benji answers with a smile and another squeeze of Ethan’s hand.

Ethan’s staring at Benji again, and this time he knows it, but he can’t fathom looking anywhere else. It doesn’t seem to matter that this whole engagement is fake and he’s never so much as kissed Benji before, because every part of him aches at the thought of marrying him. And Benji’s staring back at him, but he’s not saying anything, and it intensifies everything Ethan’s feeling, the pain of holding his hand but not being with him for real, the absurdity of pretending to do the thing he really wants.

“Benji,” Ethan starts suddenly. “I think we should go back to the hotel.”

“Without dinner?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He’s expecting Benji to protest, but all he gets is a soft, “Alright.”

It’s agony to wait as Benji flags down a waiter and apologizes profusely for having to leave early, but as soon as they pay the bill, they get to their feet and hurry out the door. Their hotel is close by, one that takes ten minutes tops to get to, but both walk with a sense of urgency even without having to tell the other to hurry. “Ethan?” Benji breathes a few minutes in.


“I lied about having work to do.”

Maybe they’re on the same page after all. “Me too.”

When they make it to the hotel, they politely nod at the receptionist and make a beeline for the elevator. Then Benji hits the button for the tenth floor, the doors shut, and they’re completely alone.

Benji shifts on his feet and turns towards the older agent. “Ethan,” he starts, but he never finishes, because Ethan slides one hand onto Benji’s waist and cups the other around his jaw and pulls him into a kiss, hard, hot. He tastes just like that wine they had earlier, and Ethan feels a twinge of regret that he didn’t bother looking at the name, because he never wants to forget this, how it tastes to kiss Benji for the first time, in the middle of a fucking hotel elevator they’re only in because the IMF sent them away on a mission.

The kiss breaks as Benji pulls away and sucks in heavy breath. “Ethan,” he repeats, “we don’t have to pretend right now--”

“Who said I was pretending?”

“Oh, God ,” he sighs, and he kisses Ethan again, mouth open, inviting in his tongue without hesitation. Ethan backs him against the wall of the elevator and kisses him like his life depends on it, wet, messy, desperate to make up for all the years he wasted wishing he could do this. Then the elevator stops, dings, and Benji shoves him off of him, completely winded, lips already swollen. The gesture initially hurts Ethan, wondering what he could have done wrong, but Benji quickly says, “Our room,” and Ethan understands.

They pace down the hallway, Ethan fumbling through his pocket to find the key, Benji running his hands through his hair, until they arrive to their room. Ethan’s so anxious to get inside that it takes him three tries to get the door unlocked. Benji giggles and follows him through once the door is open, only to be cut off again as Ethan grabs him and shoves him against the door when it closes again. A number of seconds pass, the air so thick it’s suffocating, Benji panting, Ethan staring at Benji’s lips, until, finally, Ethan says, “I love you.”

Benji’s face changes into the same nervous look from dinner. “Ethan--”

“I mean, I think I’m in love you.” Ethan squeezes his eyes shut. “I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been in love with you for years, Benji.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to--” He opens his eyes again. “I didn’t know what you felt and I valued our relationship as it was. If I told you and you didn’t feel the same way back, then what?”

“Ethan,” Benji breathes, and he lifts his hands to cup his face. “You lovely, lovely idiot, I’m in love with you, too.”

It feels like a punch to the gut, but in the absolute best way possible. “You are?”

“Oh, my god,” Benji laughs. “You didn’t know?”


“Fuck, Ethan,” he grins, and he pulls him into another kiss. Ethan’s too weak to break it, not immediately at first, allowing them to kiss long enough that Benji can weave his hands through his hair and sink against the door, until his desire to talk to him is too much.

“For how long?” he murmurs against his lips.

“Since the day I met you, I think.”

“Stop kidding me.”

“Maybe I didn’t realize it then, but I think I’ve always just…” He sighs and kisses him tenderly. “You were married, and I thought you were straight, so I never let myself think about it too much. Then I became a field agent and working with you made me absolutely sick because I was so in love with you.”

“Why didn’t I know?”

“For the same reasons. I thought you knew I was crazy about you. Jane’s heard me cry about it multiple times.”


“Don’t worry about it,” Benji murmurs. “Let me enjoy this now, hm?”

“Stop making that noise,” Ethan groans, “it drives me crazy .”

“Hm?” he hums, and Ethan groans again. Benji smirks.

“Is it safe to assume you were staring at me all evening because you wanted to fuck my brains out?”

“You said it, not me.” Ethan presses a searing kiss against the top of Benji’s throat.

“And what unleashed this sudden -- fuck .”

Ethan’s traveling down his throat, stopping only to suck at his exposed collarbone. Benji huffs and leans forward against Ethan, using his body as support to keep himself upright.

“What unleashed this sudden urge to fuck me?” Benji finally gasps.

“Mm-mm.” He yanks Benji’s shirt out of his pants and ghosts his hands up the skin of his hips.

“What do you mean -- fuck, Ethan -- ‘mm-mm’?”

“Embarrassing,” he mutters as his thumbs settle on Benji’s nipples. The action makes Benji moan, and Ethan has to suppress one, too, as he rubs circles against his nipples and feels them hardening underneath his thumbs. His cock jerks violently in his pants when Benji tilts his head to bite lightly on the helix of his left ear. He knows this is moving insanely fast, but he can’t stop himself, now when he’s waited so long to do this, not when Benji’s so fucking ready for him. That’s maybe the hottest part about all of this.

“Bedroom?” Benji whispers in his ear, and Ethan’s all too enthusiastic to agree. He pulls away and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He watches as Benji does the same, and when both of their shirts tumble to the floor, they’re together again, kissing, sighing, biting, licking, trying to find their way to the bed without hitting any counters or walls too hard along the way. When they arrive, Benji kicks his shoes off, falls back onto the bed, and unbuttons his pants. Ethan helps to yank his socks off, and then his pants, until Benji is left in nothing but a tight pair of briefs that do little to hide the prominent bulge underneath them.

“Jesus, Benji,” Ethan sighs as he drinks every part of him in. He’s absolutely gorgeous, his hair, his beard, his nose, his eyes, the lightly defined ridges of his abs, the pertness of his breasts --

“Are you going to tell me what turned you on so bad?” Benji asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I told you it’s embarrassing.”

“You’re about to fuck me but you’re too embarrassed to tell me what turned you on?”

Ethan grins and licks his lips. “You called me your husband,” he says quietly.

“You got turned on because I called you my husband?”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing. Come here.”

Ethan listens, leaning forward to nestle next to Benji. In turn, Benji rolls onto his side so he can face Ethan and reaches out to stroke his hair.

“I told you that I’m in love with you,” Ethan continues in a low voice. “You had been holding my hand and I didn’t know what to think… what you thought of me…”

“So you got excited at the thought of marrying me?”

“I was already a bit turned on before hand.”

“Is that why you went to the bathroom?”

Ethan sends him a sheepish grin.

“And here I thought I made you uncomfortable,” Benji laughs.

“You were driving me crazy,” Ethan mutters, leaning forward to press a slow kiss against his cheekbone. “Your hands really are beautiful, you know.”

“Don’t tell me that.”

“Why not?” Ethan reaches around to grab his hand. “You said you liked playing with your hands.”

Benji shuts his eyes. “I did say that.”

“Does this turn you on?” Ethan brings his fingers to his mouth, just like he had at the restaurant, only this time, he wraps his lips around his fingertip and sucks on it gently.


He grins, swirls his tongue around his fingertip, and pulls away. Benji’s face is twisted, as if he was incredibly pained, but then he breathes, “ Don’t stop ,” and Ethan gladly obliges.

“Gorgeous.” Ethan kisses each of Benji’s fingers until he gets to his thumb. He puts his mouth around it and bites down lightly, drawing a surprised gasp from Benji. “You’re gorgeous.”


He glances downwards as he hollows his cheeks and takes in a few fingers. Benji’s erection twitches in his briefs, and it’s so hot that a groan grumbles from low in Ethan’s throat. “Can I do this to your cock?” Ethan mumbles.

“Fuck, yes, please.” Benji tumbles back onto the bed, and Ethan crawls downwards, scattering kisses down his torso until he makes it to the waistline of his briefs. He could draw this out, make it torture, but he’s been waiting so fucking long from this that he can barely contain himself from tearing them off of him. An audible gasp escapes him as Benji’s cock finally comes into view, precum already dripping from his slit.

“Benj,” Ethan sighs, lightly grasping his cock and swiping his thumb across his tip. The gasp that comes from Benji is so fucking lascivious that Ethan thinks he might cum on the spot. “I want to make this last,” Ethan murmurs, “but I don’t know if I can contain myself.”

“There’s always later,” Benji chokes out.


Yes , Ethan, I’m going to fuck you again later, but not if you don’t fuck me now!”

Ethan smiles, bends forward, and kisses Benji’s shaft. When Benji groans and shifts towards him, he holds Benji’s cock back and licks his tongue up his length. Benji grunts, tilts his hips upwards with Ethan, and it’s the hottest fucking thing Ethan could ever imagine. He pumps his hand along his length once, twice, and then moves to mouth his balls. They’re so tight, trembling with ecstasy, and they feel amazing in Ethan’s mouth, especially with Benji letting out sighs that border on pornographic. “ Please ,” Benji growls, “mouth on my cock, please, Ethan--”

He listens, because that’s what Benji wants, and he nearly screams with relief when Ethan takes his head in his mouth and licks his slit. Benji groans and rocks his hips upwards, only for Ethan to grasp them firmly and shove them back down on the bed.

“Stop teasing me!” Benji snaps. “Please, Ethan, take your time later, I need you right now.”

His pleads come out in a steady stream, each word heightening Ethan’s arousal a bit further. It doesn’t feel real to have Benji underneath him like this, begging him to suck his cock like he might die otherwise. Ethan’s own cock is throbbing in his pants, searching desperately for its own relief, but all that matters to him is Benji’s cock in his mouth.

So he takes Benji in, taking inch by inch slowly, going down halfway first before pulling back up and going down even further. Long whines escape Benji as he does this over and over, until he steadies his breathing and takes in his cock until it bumps against the back of his throat. “ Jesus fucking Christ ,” Benji shouts, hopelessly rutting his hips up against Ethan’s hands. “I’m going to cum Ethan, god, your mouth is so fucking beautiful-- ” He dissolves into moans when Ethan hollows his cheeks a second time and swallows.

Benji’s so blissed out that he doesn’t have a chance to say anything before Ethan pulls up, removes his mouth from his cock with a loud pop , and says, “Fuck my mouth if you want to, baby.”

Shit .” The two roll over, so Ethan’s on his back with his lips parted. Benji takes his time at first, pushing into his mouth slowly and giving a few careful thrusts, just to see what Ethan is capable of doing. When he finds his boundaries, he quickens his pace, thrusting in and out, in and out, groaning, swearing profusely, and all Ethan can do is pray that he doesn’t cum in his pants at the sensation. He can hear his name coming from Benji’s mouth, just a repeated series of dirty Ethan ’s mixed with every curse word Benji can think of, until he yanks away and doesn’t come back.

Ethan blinks, completely dazed, until he finally asks, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m about to cum,” Benji tells him, voice strangled.

“That’s alright,” he responds, and he leans forward to take Benji’s cock again, but Benji rolls off.

“No,” he pants before gesturing at Ethan. “You’re still dressed.”

“It’s okay.”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Oh.” He can’t say no to that, even if he was more than prepared to swallow Benji’s cum. “Alright.”

They do what they had earlier, this time with Ethan kicking off his shoes, and Benji pulling off Ethan’s pants, until they’re both nude. “Your underwear’s a mess,” Benji giggles as he climbs on top of Ethan.

“You make me so hard, baby.” He places his hands on the grooves of Benji’s hips as Benji leans over to give him a warm kiss. It soon dissolves into something more intense, both sighing as they kiss, Benji licking into Ethan’s mouth, until he breaks away.

“Is that what I taste like?”

“You taste great.”

Benji makes a face.

“Really, Benj, I was looking forward to swallowing your cum.”

“Ugh,” Benji says, and he knows it’s less out of disgust and more out of arousal. “Another time.”

“What do you want now?”

“To hump you.”

“Oh,” Ethan sighs.

“Is that alright?”

“More than alright.”

“Good.” He rolls his hips forward and they both grunt with the movement. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, actually.”

“Tell me about it.”

“About what? How I want to hump you--” He jerks forward and makes Ethan moan. “--or how I wanked off thinking about it?”

“Either,” he gasps.

“Years, Ethan,” Benji continues as he finds a slow pace. “I’ve had this fantasy of sitting on you just like this and grinding against your dick until you -- oh, god .” He places his hands on  his chest and ruts his cock roughly against his. “Fuck, Ethan, you’re exquisite.”

“Tell me more.” He digs his fingernails into the skin of Benji’s hips and tilts his hips up to meet him. “Please.”

“I’d think about going home with you after a night out and everyone thinks I’m there to check out your -- Jesus -- music collection or -- or something , when really I’m on top of you making you whimper.” 

“Benji,” Ethan groans. “Harder.”

He obeys, pushing down even further onto Ethan’s cock, quickening his movements further. “We’re both so turned on we don’t even get undressed and we cum in our pants like we’re -- ah …”

“Benj,” he whines, “I’m so close.”

“Fuck, Ethan, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum, Benji, fuck .” His hips are completely off the bed as he thrusts back against Benji, his own orgasm rapidly building in the pit of his stomach. “Cum, baby, please , cum on me--”


Benji cums, hard, spurting all across Ethan’s stomach and chest. Ethan forces his eyes open just to watch, just to see how Benji throws his head back as he climaxes, how his lips part but nothing comes out, how fucking stunning he is as he cums, and it’s all too much for Ethan. Within a few more thrusts, he’s cuming himself, letting out one last, “ Benji ” as his cum ribbons across his skin.

Everything feels positively unreal afterwards. Benji dismounts him and curls up against him, and he can’t convince himself that he isn’t dreaming. There’s no way any of this could have actually happened, there’s no way he told Benji he loves him and Benji loves him too and they fucked, finally , but then again, the way Benji kisses his ear can’t possibly be a dream, either.

He tilts his head. “Benj?”

There are Benji’s eyes, large, beautiful. He had never really gotten the chance to notice how interesting they are, how there’s brown on the edges and mingling with blue into its own unique, breathtaking color. “Yeah, Ethan?”

“I love you.”

Benji smiles, nestles in closer. “I love you too.”

“And you mean it? We’re not pretending?”

“No offense, Ethan, but I don’t think I’d fuck you with no audience just for a mission.”

“So I don’t have to worry about you fucking Brandt on another mission, then.”

“Oh, God, no,” he laughs. “Just you.”

“Just me,” Ethan repeats, but the words don’t digest. This has to be too good to be true, and yet Benji’s here, next to him, looking at him like he’s the moon and the stars.

Benji takes a deep breath and says, “You know, Ethan, you said you got turned on when I called you my husband.”


“Well, maybe marriage is a bit… extreme for us right now, but if you’re interested in a relationship at least, it’s not anything I would object to. If you want.”

“If I want?”

“I don’t want to pressure you--”

“Benji,” he grins, and he pulls him back in for another deep kiss. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”