Chapter Nine

When Hannah returned from the bathroom, Mitchell was alone on the bed in his boxers. “Ben went to the other bathroom. You all right?”

“So good.” If she lay down, it would be tempting never to leave. Maybe clothes would help, so she got dressed. Mitchell patted the spot on the bed next to him, though, and it would probably be rude to just leave, so she gave in to temptation and curled into his side. He ran a gentle hand through her hair, and she shut her eyes and leaned into the touch. It would be so easy to stay like this, taking comfort from his closeness, talk long into the night.

“I’m not used to the cuddling.” Mitchell chuckled, but his laugh sounded awkward and a little sad.

“Ben’s not a big cuddler?” That was surprising. The man was built like a giant teddy bear.

Mitchell scoffed. “Definitely not.” He hesitated. “Or, not with me. But I think not at all.”

What a shame.

“Well, I would cuddle you.” She wrapped her arm across him and gave him a squeeze. What harm was cuddling, after all? Cuddling was physical affection, shared warmth, coziness. It didn’t have to be emotional.

Mitchell sighed. His fingertips brushed up and down her back, lightly stroking her through her shirt.

The door opened suddenly. “You guys want a snack? I was thinking…” Ben stopped abruptly in the door, staring at the two of them curled together on his bed. The moment stretched out into awkward silence.

“A snack.” Mitchell made a thoughtful noise, still wrapped up with Hannah. “What do you think, Hannah?”

Staying here was nice—maybe too nice. Maybe dangerous. “I could eat.” She disconnected herself from him with some reluctance. Snacks were probably safer than cuddling.

It was good to be dressed again, lounging in the living room. This felt normal. What had happened in the bedroom was starting to feel like a dream, something that someone other than her had done. She put her feet on the coffee table, leaning back in her chair, while Ben sprawled out on the sofa. Mitchell hummed to himself in the kitchen, making coffee and grilled cheese for all of them even though she never drank coffee this late.

“He makes a good cup of coffee.” Ben nodded over to Mitchell, giving Hannah a conspiratorial glance.

“He’s good at a lot of things.” Hannah grinned, testing out the waters. Could they joke about this?

Ben grinned back, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, he is.”

“You two talking about me?” Mitchell popped his head out of the kitchen.

“Only good things,” Ben responded, flashing Mitchell a cheesy grin. “All lies.”

“Humph.” Mitchell made a face and went back into the kitchen.

This sweet domesticity between them was like watching a married couple. Hannah hadn’t expected this kind of intimacy. They were more distant in public. They were letting their guard down here, in their home, and she was getting to witness it. How could Mitchell say there was nothing between him and Ben? It was obvious to anyone with two eyes.

Grilled cheese really was the perfect comfort food, though, and its perfection was enough to distract her from whatever musings she’d been starting about Ben and Mitchell. “Shit, I don’t know how you do this.” Hannah held the perfectly toasted sandwich reverently in two hands, because it felt blasphemous to hold it any other way.

Mitchell raised his eyebrows. “It is literally just a grilled cheese.”

“Nothing you make is ‘just a’ anything, Mitchell.” Ben was making some seriously pornographic noises over his food. Mitchell give Ben a look so appreciative, so soft, it just made her want to shake both of them until they admitted their feelings.

Instead of saying something to Mitchell, though, Ben turned to Hannah. “So. Question for you.”

“Okay?” She paused in eating.

“How do you feel about seeing both of us?”

Whoa, that was a flash of sudden déjà vu to her conversation with Lori. “At the same time?”

“At the same time.”

She looked down at her sandwich again and took a bite, using the chewing time to put her words together.

“Well, I definitely don’t want to choose.” How crazy that she hadn’t been the one to bring this idea up. “My friend Lori studies polyamory. It’s her PhD thesis. She was just telling me how lots of people make this work.” She hesitated. “I’ve got to admit, though, it seems complicated.”

“Yeah, but I’m not talking about a romantic relationship.” Ben stirred his coffee. “I’m talking about friendship, but with sex. Like what Mitchell and I have.”

Oh. The grilled cheese stuck in Hannah’s throat, and she swallowed it with some difficulty. Mitchell was silent, holding his cup of coffee. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but this felt…like something else. Yet wasn’t she the one who always said she didn’t want romance, and she wanted her independence? Was she really feeling sad because she wasn’t getting involved with two romantic relationships at the same time?

“I like being friends with you. Both of you. And the sex is great.” She had no good reason to say no. “So, sure. We can give that a try. Mitchell? What do you think?”

Mitchell tipped his head to the side, still looking contemplatively into the middle distance. Finally, his gaze focused on her again. “I think it’s interesting, and I’m game if you two are.”

“Great.” Ben raised his cup in salute. “Now, what the fuck do we still need to do before the festival?”

…

After Hannah left that night, the house fell into an uneasy silence. Mitchell stayed up on the couch, messing around on his laptop, which he never did. It seemed weird to Ben to just go to bed without talking, even though he couldn’t really decide what they would need to talk about, so he started straightening up the kitchen just to have something to do. He hadn’t realized before how attuned he was to Mitchell’s moods, but since Mitchell was clearly feeling unsettled, he couldn’t help mirroring it.

“This guacamole still good?” Ben held up a container from the fridge, and Mitchell glanced over from his computer screen for a moment.

“No. Throw it out.” He went back to typing.

Ben emptied the substance into the sink and rinsed out the glass bowl. That wasn’t going to be a good conversation starter, was it? He washed his hands.

“So Hannah said she wants some help packing up before the festival. You want to give her a hand with that?”

Mitchell’s brows drew together, his expression curious and puzzled. “You know a lot more about sex toys than me. I thought you’d want to do it.”

Ben walked back out of the kitchen. “Come on. I don’t know shit about toys. You’re the kinky one.”

Mitchell smiled, the first time Ben had seen him do so since Hannah left. It was a welcome sight; he hadn’t realized how much he’d been waiting for that smile until he saw it.

“Sex toys aren’t kinky. I don’t own any toys. I happen to know for a fact that you own at least one dildo and a masturbation sleeve.”

“Oh, god, don’t call it a masturbation sleeve.”

“What do you want to call it?”

“I don’t know.” Ben shrugged. “I don’t talk about it.”

“And yet you own them.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Do you want to go or not?”

Mitchell shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” He looked back at his laptop screen but didn’t put his hands on the keyboard again. He kept doing that thing he did when he wanted to say something, where his bottom lip twitched as he started to open his mouth and then stopped.

Ben wasn’t going to let him just sit there and twitch. It killed him to see Mitchell uneasy like this. And that was totally normal and didn’t mean anything deeper than the fact that nobody wanted their friends to be upset, and he was sticking with that story, dammit, no matter how much it felt like a thin guise. He flopped down into the chair. “What’s up with you?”

Mitchell pursed his lips. “I guess I’m not sure about this three-people-dating thing.”

Ben frowned. “Tell me more.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

Mitchell set his laptop down on the coffee table. “It feels like the bottom’s going to drop out on it eventually. Eventually, Hannah’s going to figure out she prefers one of us, and then the other one is…whatever. Left out. Alone.”

Oh. Ben didn’t see this side of Mitchell much, since in general he was a pretty confident, straightforward kind of guy. It was easy to forget that Mitchell had his own insecurities.

“Hey.” Ben moved to the sofa next to Mitchell. “Please say that you’re shitting me.”

Mitchell stonewalled him with a completely blank expression.

Ben hesitated only a moment, then moved his hand to rest over Mitchell’s. Mitchell looked down at their hands, his blank expression turning to a slight frown of puzzlement.

“No, look at me.”

Mitchell did so, his face wary.

“Neither of us is gonna end up alone, okay? No matter what happens with Hannah. We’ve still got each other.” And damn, that sounded gay as hell, but Mitchell was hurting and he could justify this to himself in the morning.

“I’m not worried about that.” Mitchell averted his eyes, so he was probably lying, because he didn’t do it often and he sucked at it. “I feel like there’s no way she’s not going to have to choose between us. And I don’t want to end up in a competition with you for Hannah.”

There was an unspoken part of that, the idea that if he had to be in competition with Ben, Mitchell was sure he would lose. He squeezed Mitchell’s hand. “Listen. Why does it have to be competition? Why are you thinking she has to choose at all? Why do any of us have to choose?”

“Forget it.” Mitchell sighed. “I shouldn’t have brought this up.” He tried to pull his hand away, but Ben held it there. So much for pretending he didn’t care.

If he really didn’t care, he wouldn’t push, but dammit, he wanted Mitchell to be a part of this, whatever it was. He wanted this weird triangle, even if it was a risk to the stability they had now. Somehow, adding Hannah to the mix felt like it left him more room to be intimate with Mitchell, like some of the pressure was off. “Just…give it a chance. Fall Festival is coming up, right? Let’s just give it some time until then. Let’s see what happens.”

Eyes to the side, jaw tight, Mitchell nodded. Fuck, they’d had such a great night tonight. Why did Mitchell have to be so down about it? Ben let go of his hand and moved closer, throwing an arm around Mitchell’s shoulders. The hell with distance. Right now, he didn’t want distance. He wanted a few more seconds of closeness. Mitchell hesitated, then leaned slightly into the contact, turning so the brotherly arm around the shoulders became a full embrace. They stayed like that, the silence stretching between them, and Ben should pull away, but fuck, this felt really nice. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore that little voice reminding him, You could have this.

He wasn’t ready, and he let go. “Come on.” Ben grabbed the remote off the armrest with his free hand, clearing his throat. “Let’s see what’s on.”

…

Ben awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented. The TV was still on, some show playing that he didn’t remember turning on. He had somehow stretched out along the couch, long limbs hanging off the side, and Mitchell was flopped against him, sound asleep, head pillowed on Ben’s shoulder. Shit. This was definitely a cuddle. It was a sleep cuddle, and so neither of them could be blamed for initiating it, but somewhere along the line, he and Mitchell had dozed off together on the couch and ended up back in an embrace.

Just like before, this was…nice. Mitchell was warm, and in his sleep he looked vulnerable and sweet, face relaxed, worry-free.

They couldn’t stay like this, though. He was already sore all over, and they both had to work the next day. He nudged Mitchell, who murmured and threw an arm across him, cuddling closer. Aw, shit. That was fucking adorable.

“Hey. Mitchell. Hey.” He nudged him again. “Come on, Mitch.”

“Don’t call me Mitch,” Mitchell slurred, making Ben smile.

“Yeah. Get up, you lazy ass. Go to bed.”

Mitchell untangled himself, sitting up and blinking awake with a groggy, sour expression. “I was warm.”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t fit on this fucking sofa, and we certainly don’t fit on it together.”

They would fit in his bed, though.

But that was too far. Things weren’t like that between them.

Were they?

Before Ben had to face the extent of that question, Mitchell got to his feet and rubbed his eyes, saying good-night as he staggered off to bed.

Climbing into bed, Ben could smell the scent of sex everywhere. Fuck. So much for restful dreams.