The morning was like nothing had changed. Ben actually for a split second thought all that had happened the night before was a dream. He'd gotten drunk at home, passed out, and dreamt he fucked April. That sounded much more innocent than actually doing it. Though, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself he actually did dream it, one subtle difference that morning changed all of it.
Andy and April seemed to have made up (or, as Ben hoped, never had been fighting in the first place.) The couple were sitting at the small kitchen table snacking on leftover pizza. Andy turned his head to greet Ben.
"Good morning! Want some pizza?" He shoved the pizza box in his hands. Ben declined and put the box in the fridge. Routine.
Though April broke the routine. Usually she had at least something to say to Ben. "God, finally you're up. You're the only one who knows how to work the coffee maker" or "You're finally up, we thought you died" or "Can you go out and get all the stuff for pancakes so you can make pancakes for us?" Something, anything. At least a "hi" or a head nod in response to his "good morning." But this day she did nothing. She was actually avoiding eye contact with him. She lowered her eyes and looked at the pizza, picking it apart and finally slamming her hand onto the table.
"This pizza is disgusting." She pushed the plate away from her like a child who didn't want to finish her broccoli. Ben stared at her. He had done it hadn't he? They'd done it. They'd really fucked. And is this what it was going to be like from now on? He'd have to find a new place to live. Forget it ever happened and carry on with Leslie. But he couldn't avoid April forever, he worked with her. Every time he'd look at Leslie he'd see April out of the corner of his eye glaring or worse, not looking at all.
It was Saturday and Ben had nothing to do. He could go see Leslie. He should go see Leslie. He didn't want to go see Leslie though. He should tell her what happened. No, no, he should pretend it never happened. If neither him or April ever spoke of it again and no one saw and neither of them thought about it (it's not like Ben had a clear memory of it anyways, they were both so drunk) then they could pretend it never happened. Everyone had weak moments; dwelling on them only made it much worse.
Ben chose not to eat breakfast. He made a pot of coffee and went back to his room to drink it alone. He sat cross legged at the foot of his bed, staring at the wall and occasionally glancing out the window. If anyone would've walked it, he would've looked like the biggest loser in the world. Loser. That was April's name for him.
He checked his phone. It was just past ten o'clock, he had a horrible head ache and four text messages and three missed calls from Leslie.
Hey Benji, want help me draw out the plans for my new park?
No.
Plans already finished, lunch maybe?
No.
Call me when you're up! :)
He sighed. And opened up her number on his phone. It took everything he had to actually hit the 'send' button. The phone rang once before Leslie picked up.
"Hey Ben!" she sounded ecstatic, like she hadn't talked to him in months.
"Leslie, hi. How are you?"
"Good, I miss you."
"Yeah, me too. How was dinner with Marlene?"
"Boring. How was your night?"
"Oh, you know... boring. Didn't do anything." He was a horrible liar. His hands began to shake and a cold sweat broke out on his brow. He was so glad this was a phone conversation. "How are your uhh... park plans going?"
"Great. Finished. You should come over to see them. Sorry, I got up at five this morning and had some extra time. You slept in a little though, didn't you?"
"It's Saturday," he snapped without meaning to. "People sleep in on Saturdays."
Leslie laughed in response. Ben couldn't feel his body.
"That's right. I forgot that some people don't do work on Saturdays. I see weekends as workdays where you get to stay at home."
Ben laughed and relaxed a little.
They agreed they'd meet up around lunch time to go over her plans and hangout and have a chance to be a real couple. Ben was already forgetting about April. As he left the house he saw no sight of the happily married couple. Probably having make-up sex. Cool.
Ben spent most of the day at Leslie's. It was nice, just like all of their other weekend visits. Quiet. They usually couldn't risk going out, especially with her campaign for mayor. She had to be squeaky clean or she'd have no chance. Fucking her co-worker does not equal squeaky clean. Dating. They were dating, not just fucking.
It wasn't like real dating though. Not that Ben had even had a real girlfriend in years. Or a serious girlfriend ever. But they didn't go out ever. They stayed in, enjoyed their time together, messed around and parted ways. He could actually count the times he'd stayed the night at Leslie's house on one hand. They'd fucked a bunch more, but actually spent the entire night sleeping in each others arms? Maybe three times. Four tops.
This night was not one of those nights. They did it in her bed, nothing exciting, and watched a bit of TV before Ben made up an excuse to leave.
"April and Andy promised me this nice dinner for helping them pay their bills."
Bull shit. Like April and Andy had ever given Ben any sort of thanks for all he did for them. Except give him a place to live. And April fucked him the night before. Never mind that though.
When he got home April and Andy were on the couch watching TV. Nothing new. It looked like Oprah reruns.
"Hey guys." Ben pulled a beer out the fridge. "You're almost out of beers."
"Hey, oh, I'll go get some," said Andy, not pulling his eyes away from the TV. Ben knew that actually meant. You'll go get some, Ben, cause you have more than five dollars in your bank account and a real job.
Ben walked closer into the living room. It wasn't Oprah, it was Tyra. Even better. "So where have you been all day man?"
"Leslie showed me her plans for a new park."
"For seven hours?" April said. It was like she was accusing him. None of her business.
"And I had lunch with Chris," Ben stammered out. Lying. He really needed to get over that.
"Gay," April spurted out and Andy laughed. Ben wasn't amused.
"Everyone has gay thoughts, right Ben?" Andy continued laughing, throwing his head back. He would never let Ben forget that one.
"Funny," Ben said sarcastically. "So are one of you going to magically learn how to cook something that's recipe doesn't consist of '2 minutes in the microwave' or are we calling another pizza?"
"Why don't you cook something, Ben, if you're just going to insult our food all the time?" April shot her gaze from the TV and met his eyes. It was frightening. She didn't blink and though Ben began laughing nervously, her flat line mouth didn't falter. She was pissed.
"Maybe I will."
"Ben, you cook?" Andy sounded excited at this new discovery.
"I am a human being Andy. I do, from time to time, need to feed myself."
"Great, what are you cooking for us today?"
Fuck. Ben hadn't cooked anything in years. He looked through the fridge and sighed. "There's no food in here. How do you expect me to cook if there's no food?"
"Go buy something, asshole!" April shouted.
"Fuck off. Order Chinese or something, I'm not hungry anyways." He went to his room and slammed the door. He was throwing a fit.
"What's up with him?" he heard Andy say through the thin walls.
"Hormones," responded April. Cheeky bitch.
Ben sat with his back against the door, finishing off his beer and wishing he had some sort of secret stash. He'd work on that.
He listened to Andy and April argue about what sort of takeout to get. They decided on pizza. How shocking. He listened to their mindless chatter and thought of him and Leslie. There was one thing Andy and April had that Ben and Leslie didn't - normalcy. He felt like crying.
He continued listening as they did the dishes (throwing plates in the sink and turning the water on) and heard them kiss and heard Andy's fat ass sit back down on the sofa and then April whispered something too him like "I'm gonna take a shower." Ben felt himself get hard. No. April was Andy's wife. He had Leslie.
The shower turned on and then he remembered. The two bedrooms in the house shared the single bathroom and both had a door connecting to it. Far too often Ben had mistakenly left his door open and caught glimpses of Andy pissing in the middle of the night. Or vice versa, he'd get up to take a piss and catch glances of April cuddled up into Andy's bare chest.
Ben stood up and walked over the bathroom door. He placed his hand on the knob but paused to consider her reaction when he appeared before her. She'd probably scream. Ben wondered if he'd be able to get his hand over her mouth in time. Fuck. He sounded like a rapist. He just wanted to talk with her. This could be the only chance they'd get to be alone.
He quickly swung the door open and shut it behind him. Eyes to the floor, he didn't hear any noise from April. They met each others eyes. She still had a towel wrapped around her and was in the midst of combing her hair.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing in here?" She didn't sound like normal, uncaring, April - she sounded pissed.
Ben figited and brought his eyes to the ground again. "I-I wanted to talk... about yester- a-about last night."
"Last night was a mistake, Ben. I was drunk and mad at Andy."
"No, no it wasn't a mistake. You enjoyed it, I know it! I did."
"Yeah, cause you never get laid." The funny part was he was getting laid. "And no Ben, I did not enjoy last night. We fucked on a toilet. You could've taken a shit and I wouldn't have even noticed."
"B-but," Ben didn't have anything to say. "You don't want Andy, though."
"Um, yeah I do. He's my husband."
"Andy doesn't know what you want," Ben muttered under his breath. He'd immediately wished he hadn't said anything.
"Oh and you do?"
Ben didn't have anything to say. He was tired of talking. He stepped in closer to her and placed his hands on her bare shoulders, running his fingers across her bare skin. His hands wandered across her collar bone and then down into her cleavage. He hadn't seen her breasts the night before. His fingers danced across where her towel was fastened, neatly disclosing her body from him. She didn't protest. If she didn't want him to, she would've protested. Ben undid the towel and it fell to the floor. April's expression hadn't changed though she was fighting back a naughty grin. Before he knew it he was kissing her again. Her arms were draped across his shoulders, her tongue was going wild and he was frantically trying to steady his fingers so he could get his clothes off. He ran his cold fingers over her curves. She looked beautiful naked. Much more beautiful than his hazy memory of her panting body draped across his in the toilet stall. Much more beautiful than Leslie's.
He slammed her into the shower. It was a very loud shower, Andy wouldn't hear them. Her back hit the wall hard and made a loud bang. April froze but Ben didn't waste any time. He lifted her up and she wrapped her limbs around him for support. It was hard for Ben to stay balanced at first; to fuck April and keep himself from dropping her. Her back kept slamming against the wall, shaking the shower doors.
"Ben," she hissed. "Be careful."
He fucked her harder. Her back slammed into the wall again.
"Ben! Andy'll hear!"
Ben didn't care about Andy. He wouldn't cum if he were 'careful.'
Ben's knees became weak and as he tried to lower April down to change positions she dug her nails into his back and thrusted her hips into his harder. Ben called out in pain and pushed her back into the wall. His shoulders throbbed, it felt like she'd drawn blood.
He came shortly after that and couldn't help but crying out. April pulled his hair into her fists and dropped her feet to the floor. Ben could hardly talk. He stood panting, back against the glass shower door. He was suddenly conscience of the water running and how hot it was. The room felt like a sauna, not only from the shower water but from the heat their bodies had generated. He glanced over at April and noticed she was still catching her breath. He turned the shower water off after a moment, kissed April and walked out of the shower, leaving a trail of water behind him. He grabbed a towel, but he didn't bother to dry off. He didn't want to sit around and talk about anything with April. They had nothing to talk about.
Later that night, after his housemates had gone to bed, Ben found himself lying awake, half-way through with his fourth beer. Thoughts of April filled his mind and Leslie soon became a nonentity. His brain was filled with images of their steamy shower sex and how good he'd fucked her and how he hadn't had sex any where near that wonderful in years. If ever. He found his hand making it's way down his shorts and began to touch himself.
April, he breathed.
And then, as if he'd summoned her, she appeared before him, cracking open the bathroom door, standing at the foot of his bed and then cuddling up beside him.
"You're thinking about me?" she said sleepily. "You're pretty pathetic."
"Yeah," he sighed. He turned on his side to face her.
"We can't do that ever again." She said bluntly. "I'm serious."
"Of course," Ben felt his heart drop. He hadn't expected much from April but at least foresaw the occasional fuck whenever Andy was out. Why the hell not? They weren't hurting anybody. Sure they were both in relationships. Everyone needs to break free once in a while. Everyone needs someone who knows how to fuck. "B-b-but, I want to do it again."
"We can't," her voice, as always, was so far from sincere.
"I need you," Ben propped himself up on his elbow and leaned in to kiss her. She didn't protest. He climbed on top of her and began to slide his hand into her shorts. They were boxers. Andy's boxers. Gross.
She'd stopped kissing him by the time his fingers had ran through her. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him off. "N-no! Get off me," she hissed.
Ben rolled onto his back. He wanted to yell at her, get up and pull her back into bed. She didn't even look back at him. She went right back to Andy, the sensation of Ben's touch still burning in her memory.
"Fuck," he muttered, a bit louder than he should have. He was certain April heard him.
He rolled onto his side and faced where she had just been laying. Tears began to form in his eyes. He was crying. It was futile to wipe them away. "Fuck," he managed to say with a strained voice and he broke down into tears.