Rum & Ginger (21 page)

“Adventurous?” Ben asked. “Obviously I’m intrigued.”

“It’s not on the menu, but Chef Bancroft does this special dinner,” Brodie suggested.

“Go on.”

“It’s called Banckie’s Buffet. And the chef just kind of makes six to eight courses of whatever he’s in the mood for. What do you think?” Brodie asked.

“I think that sounds awesome. I assume they pair wine with everything?”

“Oh yeah. So is that what you want?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah. Totally. It sounds great.” The next time the waitress returned, Ben waited while Brodie told her what they wanted.

“An excellent choice, sirs. Chef Bancroft hasn’t had anyone give him the opportunity yet this evening. Shall I find out what he’s planning?”

“Nope. Surprise us,” Ben answered.

“Very good.” The waitress snapped her order book and walked to the kitchen. She returned moments later with a bottle of sparkling Moscato and a mini amuse-bouche to start them off. Each subsequent dish delighted them more than the last. The wines were paired perfectly with the eclectic meal.

Ben sat contentedly listening to Brodie speaking about whatever occurred to him and smiled, staring at the glint of candlelight in Brodie’s eyes. The wine brought a flush to his cheeks, and Ben found himself wishing they weren’t in a populated dining room. He could almost feel Brodie’s lips, his smooth skin. Ben felt his pants getting tighter beneath the table, glad of the privacy of the tablecloth. Brodie didn’t help matters by biting into a puff pastry filled with cheese, spinach, and lobster, then licking a dot of cheese from his lips. His tongue dashed out for just a moment.

“What’s your real name?” Ben interrupted the story Brodie had been relating.

Brodie sipped his wine but said nothing for a moment. He swallowed, studying Ben. “It’s awful.”

“It can’t be that awful.”

“You haven’t heard it. Why do you want to know all of a sudden?” Brodie looked at Ben with mock suspicion.

“It’s not all of a sudden. I’ve wondered off and on for a while. I always think of you as Brodie, but it’s not your name. I feel like I might be fantasizing about a lie. Or something like that.” Ben worried that Brodie might take his explanation the wrong way. Maybe “lie” was too strong a word.

“I get it,” Brodie answered. “My real name is one of the few things my parents jacked up.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Ben said as another course was placed in front of them. Three perfectly cooked cuts of meat sat to the left of three nearly indistinguishable mounds of mash. “What’s this one?” Ben asked the server.

“Bison steak with puree of turnip, elk steak with a puree of parsnip, and venison with a garlic rosemary potato puree,” she answered, indicating each pairing. “Enjoy.”

“I’ve never eaten any of these,” Brodie said as he sliced into the bison. “The meats, I mean.”

“Don’t change the subject.” Ben pointed with his fork. “If you don’t want to tell me, just say so. It’s not that big a deal.” He put a small bit of bison in his mouth, then sipped the Priorat they’d been given.

“Fortinbras.”

“I’m sorry. What?” Ben wasn’t sure what Brodie had just said. It sounded like
four tin bras
.

“Fortinbras,” Brodie repeated. “That’s my real name.”

“Wow,” Ben said. The name sounded oddly familiar to him. “That’s from something, isn’t it?”

“Shakespeare,” Brodie grumbled. “It’s the name of the Norwegian nobility. My mom is of Norwegian descent. I guess they thought it was clever.”

“Wow,” Ben repeated, unable to think of a more appropriate response.

“Yeah. My parents call me ‘Forty.’ The kids in school called me ‘Fort’ until they came up with Brodie. It’s a lot better, you have to admit.”

“Yeah. Wow. Yeah, Brodie is way better.” Ben scooped a bit of his parsnip mash onto his fork. “It’s a strong name, though,” Ben said.

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Ben said as he reached across the table and took Brodie’s hand. “And I’m really honored that you shared it with me.”

Brodie blushed but didn’t answer. He focused on his meal with the hint of a smile on his lips. Ben didn’t mind the silence that interceded. They ate happily and quietly. Ben decided to tell Brodie some stories about his younger years, since Brodie had dominated the earlier conversation. Three more courses arrived before they finally got to dessert. The food was brilliant, the wine delicious.

After the last course, Ben and Brodie sipped on Framboise and nibbled on dark chocolate. A young man with long golden hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing a black cook’s jacket approached their table. “Brodie,” he called with a broad smile. He opened his arms, and Brodie rose to embrace him.

“Banckie! How are you, buddy?” Brodie slapped his friend enthusiastically as they hugged.

“Can’t complain. Nobody listens anyway,” Chef Bancroft answered. “How was dinner?” he asked, releasing Brodie.

“Eh.” Brodie shrugged. “It was food.” The chef’s eyes grew wide, an angry look flashing across his face before he and Brodie broke out in laughter.

“You asshole,” Bancroft barked with a chuckle.

“Mr. Chef Bancroft,” Ben sputtered as he stood, feeling suddenly starstruck. “That was without a doubt one of the greatest meals I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.” Ben offered his hand.

Bancroft grabbed it, shook it once, and then pulled Ben into a warm embrace. “Thanks, friend. I’m glad it pleased you.” He released Ben. “Who’s this, then, Brodie?”

“This is Ben Silver,” Brodie introduced him. “Ben. Marty Bancroft.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Ben said.

“Likewise.” Bancroft crossed his arms. “So what brings you guys to Philly?”

“Ben’s in the restaurant business,” Brodie said. “I wanted to show him the best the industry has to offer.”

“Are you a chef?” Bancroft asked.

Ben shook his head, blushing forcefully. “No. Ah. No.”

“He’s a manager of a McFlannigan’s,” Brodie explained.

“It’s not anything like what you do, chef,” Ben answered.

“Please, Banckie. And don’t say it like that. We both run restaurants. It takes all kinds. You shouldn’t be ashamed. I worked at a McFlannigan’s in high school.”

“Seriously?” Ben couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah. It made me want to do more. I wouldn’t be where I am without that experience. I admire your fortitude, Ben.”

“Ben wants to do more too,” Brodie told his old friend.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He wants to open a bar in our town.”

“That’s cool,” Banckie said. “You should totally do it. Will you serve food?”

“Honestly? I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Ben answered.

“Well, you should. I love bar food. I’d be happy to help you come up with a menu.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Sure. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask. Anyone who’s got the patience to hang out with this asshole has my respect.” Banckie nodded at Brodie and tipped Ben a wink.

“Oh my God,” Ben stated. “That’s awesome. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Banckie said, dismissing the thanks. “What are you guys doing later? You want to hit some clubs?”

Ben and Brodie shared a moment, both realizing the only thing either of them wanted to do was to get back to the hotel. Alone. “I don’t think so,” Brodie said.

“We have to get back home early,” Ben added.

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll plan a weekend to hang out,” Brodie finished.

Bancroft studied them both through slitted eyes. “Ah. Okay. No problem, fellas. We’ll hang out some other time. Thanks for coming out and doing the Buffet.”

“No,” Ben said. “Thank
you
. It was awesome.”

“It was nice to meet you, Ben,” Banckie said, offering his hand. “When you come back to town, I’ll take you to all my buddies’ places. We’ll make a weekend of it and eat like kings.”

“That’s freaking great.” Ben shook the offered hand. “I can’t wait.”

“I better get back in the kitchen,” Banckie said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Don’t let us keep you,” Brodie said. He hugged his old friend once more before releasing him.

“Great seeing you,” Banckie said. He disappeared back into his kitchen.

“You didn’t tell me you knew him,” Ben said when the chef had left.

“Would it have made you enjoy the meal more?” Brodie asked.

“No.” Ben sat back down and finished his Framboise. “I think you two were more than friends at one time.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Brodie admitted. “But now we’re just friends. That’s it. Is that a problem?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t think so. Want to get the check and head back to the hotel?”

“In fact, I do.” Brodie tossed Ben a look of anticipation, and Ben’s pulse quickened. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with Brodie at that moment. The waitress brought the check, and before Ben could even reach for it, Brodie swept it up and took care of it. Ben dropped the tip on the table and joined Brodie in the foyer. “Shall we?” Brodie offered his arm, and they hastened back to the hotel.

T
HE
DOORS
of the elevator were barely closed before Brodie pinned Ben against the wall, devouring his mouth enthusiastically. Ben returned the kiss just as forcefully, gripping and releasing Brodie’s clothes. He wanted nothing more than to tear them off but knew he had to wait until they’d made it to the room.

The elevator suddenly stopped, and Brodie jumped back, trying to act nonchalant as an elderly couple joined them in the car. They exchanged pleasantries. Ben reached over and grabbed Brodie’s ass behind the couple’s backs, and Brodie yelped. The old man and woman turned to look at him.

“Heh. Fear of elevators,” Brodie explained lamely. He shot Ben a scathing look, to which Ben just smiled. They continued to look at each other, clearly annoyed by the presence of the elderly intruders and eager to get their hands on one another. The floors crawled by infuriatingly slowly. The car finally ground to a halt on their floor, and they tried not to run off the elevator.

As soon as the door blocked them from the older couple, Ben and Brodie renewed their affectionate display. They kissed and groped all the way down the hall until they reached the door to their room. Brodie tried to locate the room key without interrupting their contact, but he eventually had to look at the various cards in his pocket. He slid the plastic key into the slot and opened the door.

Ben tackled Brodie, pressing him backward until they were sprawled on the bed. They kissed vigorously, their tongues wrestling happily. He could feel Brodie’s erection pressing against his thigh as his own was crushed delightfully between them. Each slight movement as they kissed stimulated his lust even more. Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited by this kind of intimate contact, couldn’t remember the last time it had been more than just routine. He wanted Brodie, wanted every inch of him, wanted to feel everything he had to offer.

Brodie fumbled with the buttons on Ben’s waistcoat just as Ben clawed at Brodie’s shirt. He wanted desperately to get Brodie out of his clothes but didn’t want to ruin them in the process. Ben managed to unbutton the shirt and pressed his hands against Brodie’s warm, flushed chest. The texture of his skin was divine. Ben moaned into Brodie’s mouth. “Oh God,” Brodie whispered in response. He reached into Ben’s pants, gripping his erection.

“Jesus, Brodie,” Ben said against Brodie’s lips. Brodie responded by squeezing Ben’s cock. “Oh. Fuck.” Ben gritted his teeth against the wave of sensation assaulting him.

Brodie darted forward, kissing Ben vigorously once more. “Oh.” Brodie nibbled. “Ben,” he said between kisses. “I want….” He paused. “You. So bad.”

Ben snaked his hand between them, sliding his hand into Brodie’s tight pants. He could barely maneuver but managed to get his hand around Brodie’s shaft.

“Yes,” Brodie moaned, drawing out the
s
. Both Ben and Brodie thrust their hips eagerly to encourage their partner. “Oh God, Ben.”

“What? What do you want?” Ben asked.

“I want to taste you. I want you inside me.” Brodie continued to kiss Ben, their tongues wrestling within their mouths.

“Do what you want,” Ben whispered.

Brodie urged Ben onto his back. He kissed Ben passionately before he trailed his mouth down Ben’s neck, then his collarbone. Brodie opened Ben’s shirt. He teased Ben’s nipples with the tip of his tongue. Ben groaned with pleasure, circling his hips and wanting everything Brodie could give. Brodie kissed a trail lower and lower on Ben’s torso. His tongue dipped into Ben’s belly button as he passed it. Brodie opened Ben’s pants as he got closer, freeing Ben’s throbbing erection. Brodie’s chin rubbed the tip before he took it into his mouth. He sucked it, teasing the belly of Ben’s cock with his tongue. Ben arched his back, driving deeper into Brodie’s mouth. The moist, warm closeness nearly drove Ben mad.

Brodie dipped his head forward, his jaw wide to take Ben’s entire length, until his nose nuzzled the coarse hair surrounding Ben’s cock. Ben couldn’t believe the amazing sensation. Brodie growled, vibrating Ben’s erection delightfully. “Oh God, Brodie,” Ben moaned. “Don’t stop. Please. Please.” Ben’s words ceased to make sense as he lost himself in the texture and attention of Brodie’s mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing his entire concentration on Brodie. Ben felt the first spasms of climax and tapped Brodie’s shoulder, trying once more to warn him. He didn’t know Brodie’s style of giving head and didn’t want to spill in his mouth without warning.