Real (Short Story)

Real

Hunter forced himself to answer, "No, no. Of course not."

Benjamin turned, grabbing the bottle of vodka sitting on the counter beside him. At first, Hunter thought he would throw it, but instead, Ben took three large swigs. His expression curled with disgust, and set the bottle down shakily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He pierced Hunter with an upsetting stare.

"You may as well just leave. You lied to me. You told me it was real, Hunter. I-I really thought it was real." Tears were starting to drip down his cheeks, and Hunter found it extremely difficult to keep from striding towards Benjamin and comforting him. Instead, he ducked his head sadly and forced his stiff body out of the apartment.

---

Hunter was not sure why he had decided to come to the bar. The place where he met Benjamin, where he was drunk enough to let his real, unwanted desires to become fulfilled. It was the place where he drunkenly made out with Benjamin, a man, before calling a cab to bring them to the apartment.

Hunter enjoyed the burning sensation in his throat, because with every drink that seemed to mix with his bloodstream, his memories with Ben became even more numb.

The memories where Hunter would find himself missing him deep in the night, resisting the urge to drive over to his apartment. He would lay in bed and wish for a drink so he could soothe the thoughts, make them go away for a little while.

Benjamin was a beautiful person; and Hunter wondered how Benjamin even liked him. How he allowed him in his apartment for the last six months. Hunter was nothing. He was nothing compared to those soft lips, to those curious green eyes, to those gentle hands and that passionate and interesting personality.

Hunter took another drink and when the glass hit the bar's counter, he was flooded with a memory of the two of them. Laying in bed, heaving chests, swollen lips. That one night, Hunter had decided to sleep in the same bed -- unable to leave it's warm grasp and the man in it. And Benjamin had fallen asleep quickly, pressed against Hunter's chest. Safe. Protected.

And in a fading drunken haze, Hunter hadn't slept at all that night. Despite his comfortable exhaustion, he just wanted to watch Ben sleep. And in the morning, he slipped away reluctantly. However, he remembered dressing slowly because even though an internal instinct told him not to get too close, Hunter wanted to stay.

This reminded him of another time when Hunter had knocked on Ben's door earlier than usual. That day, they had agreed to have another one of those nights, but Hunter found himself unable to wait a minute longer at home. He arrived earlier and Benjamin had opened the door, only his head poking out. Wet strands of dark hair were stuck to his forehead, signifying that the man had just stepped out of the shower.

"You're early," Benjamin had commented.

"Yeah."

"I'm only in a towel --"

"So?"

Benjamin had laughed and allowed Hunter to enter. He had a white towel wrapped around his waist and Hunter remembered stopping, feeling completely stunned. With Benjamin shifting uncomfortably under his heavy gaze, Hunter had stared and admired. He usually did this, because Ben was so damn hot, but this was different. Hunter wasn't staring out of lust, but because he just thought that Benjamin was so damn beautiful.

Hunter looked up at the bartender, who was offering another set of shots. Without another moment, he blurted, "It's real. I know it's real." He did not notice the tears that had started to fall over his flushed cheeks.

"Pardon, sir?" the bartender questioned.

"Please call a cab. It's real."

---

Hunter was not hesitant to knock on the door for a second time that night. It opened only slightly, Benjamin's tired face appearing. He looked at Hunter with a sad, pained stare. It was silent for a moment between them, before Hunter forced the door opened and closed it behind him.

"Please go away, Hunter," Ben said, softly. He gave Hunter a distrustful glance, before shuffling into the living room. "I'm not... I'm not doing it tonight. I know you're drunk, but I'm not doing this anymore. Please, leave. We're done --"

"Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean I love you any less."

This stopped Benjamin from talking and he turned, surprised. He was paralyzed as Hunter walked towards him, grabbing the man's waist and neck. Hunter kissed Ben, kissed him with all the love he can put into it. Benjamin couldn't help but kiss back, before eventually pulling away and turning.

"Ben..." Hunter said, a hint of forming tears shaking his voice. "Earlier... I-I didn't even know it was real."

Benjamin nodded, sniffling.

Hunter was sobering up quickly. He hadn't drank too much at the bar, only enough to put a relaxed sleepiness into his limbs. But his thoughts, his actions, his words, they were just as real as his love for Benjamin was.

"But it is. And you know how I realized that?"

Benjamin remained quiet, but allowed Hunter to pull him in a tight, desperate embrace.

Hunter continued, softly, "I was thinking of these six months. I was thinking of how I thought of you all the time. I was thinking of the time I realized that you weren't just hot, you were beautiful. And the time when, for once, I didn't rush out in the morning because I actually wanted to stay."

Benjamin wrapped his arms around Hunter, burying his face into his neck.

"And the thing is, sometimes I come here wanting to cuddle. Sometimes, I wish I can hold your hand forever. I want to comfort you. I want to love you." Hunter closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the top of Benjamin's head. "I do love you. But I was scared. I thought it was wrong. I was ashamed and the only way I would satisfy myself was to get drunk because I was too scared to be sober."

Benjamin breathed heavily and looked up at Hunter.

"But I'm not scared anymore, Ben. I'm not. Because now I know it's real." And with a smile, Hunter said, "It's real."

I really enjoyed writing this. And I would really appreciate it if you can leave a comment, telling me what you think! Thank you! :)