Preview Look: PROXIMITY | ESCALATE

Enjoy this Preview of Arc 2, Episode 1 - The full episode launches this Friday.

This is a first look at Arc 2 of Proximity called Escalate.

It picks up a month after Arc 1 ends. Ben Langley has everything and everyone wants a piece of him. Everett Shaw is the one man who got close, a widower and security specialist who never saw this coming and still isn’t sure what to call it. It’s new, it’s a little clunky, and neither of them has said the word yet. But they’re together.

This is scene 1 which takes place the night before the world starts pressing in on them. Enjoy this sneak peek.

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SCENE 1 - THE DOORMAN

EVERETT POV

It’s 6:46 PM and he’s early. That’s not unusual because Everett Shaw is always early. He steps out of the revolving door into the lobby and the doorman looks up from the sleek front desk.

“Evening, Mr. Shaw.”

“Evening.”

The doorman is older, grey at the temples, posture like he served somewhere once. He knows Everett’s name but Everett doesn’t know his. It’s been three weeks and he should have it down by now. He should ask on his way out.

The lobby is all soft tones and indirect lighting. Like a museum, thinks Everett, as he crosses to the elevator.

He glances up at a discreet security camera tucked into a corner on the ceiling, and is sure the doorman is watching him. It’s likely the doorman has been watching him since before he even got close to the entrance of the building, and then followed him into and out of the revolving door. Everett is also sure he’ll be watching as Everett goes up in the elevator, then all the way to the front door of Ben’s apartment. That’s a thing Everett can’t get comfortable with. The constant watching. It’s not surveillance of him as much as it’s a strange sort of curiosity. At least that’s what it feels like to Everett.

The elevator doors whisper shut and Everett’s reflection slides out in front of him in chrome and stainless steel.

Does he know why I’m here? What does he think I am… who I am to Ben?

As the elevator starts the twelve-second ascent to the fourteenth floor, Everett studies the man reflected back at him. Six-three, 270 pounds of hard-earned muscle, but at forty-five there are fewer sharp edges than before. While age has added a few pounds he wears it comfortably and without explanation. At least he had until he met Ben Langley, thirteen years his junior.

You’re built more for function than exhibition these days, Ben had teased. And that works for me.

Everett had just looked at him because it was such a Ben thing to say, and it made his heart melt a little more for the guy that day.

His hand moves to his beard. It’s thick, well-maintained and jet-black, with more flecks of silver than last week. He strokes it thoughtfully and one word drifts into his brain and plants itself firmly.

Boyfriend.

Maybe that’s the word the doorman thinks as he watches Everett on the security system. There’s a recognizable pattern in the data and based on that pattern, boyfriend would be the logical word a casual observer would land on. But Everett doesn’t like it. Not the definition or the part that has anything to do with Ben. It’s the other part. Being examined and sorted and labeled before he’s sorted any of it out himself.

He was my client, for Christ’s sake. What was I thinking?

The boundary between Everett, the cybersecurity specialist, and Ben, the wealthy client, had dissolved a little over a month ago and Everett still struggles with how they ended up here. Sure, there was the close proximity to one another over time, but something else happened during their time working together that was much deeper and both men had been caught off guard by it. And lately, Ben seems to be adjusting to it much better than Everett.

What’s my deal? Why can’t I just enjoy this…

Everett knows exactly why. He’s a widower who hasn’t had any kind of meaningful relationship since his wife died in a car accident ten years ago, let alone an intense physical and emotional relationship like the one he’s in now. What makes it even more confusing is the part of this that he never knew was a part of him. The relationship is with a man.

He puts his hand in his pocket and palms the key that Ben handed him two weeks ago. He’d slid it across the kitchen island without ceremony and Everett had taken it like it was no big deal, because that’s how Ben handed it over. When Everett got home that night he took it out of his jacket pocket and set it on his desk, then didn’t touch it for two days. He stared at it a lot, but didn’t touch it.

Is this moving too fast? What am I doing?

He unlocks the wide front door to Ben’s loft and steps into the tasteful gallery entry.

“Yo, Ben.”

Nothing.

He notices Ben’s keys and watch are on the console just inside the door, the place he usually drops them as soon as he walks in.

Everett moves through a wide cased opening into the living room flooded with late day sun, and scans the vast space.

No Ben.

His eyes shift towards a series of windows with a panoramic view of the Hudson River. As the last vestiges of the day dip behind New Jersey, the steel and concrete of lower Manhattan bask in a gold light. As if in sync, the lighting around the room gently fades up in an almost imperceptible transition that matches the room’s light to the light outside the windows.

He turns and walks back through the gallery to the TV room and then the library calling out Ben’s name as he enters each room.

“Hello, Ben Langley. Yo.”

Nothing.

Ben is usually at the front door or in one of these rooms hanging out when Everett comes over. Tonight should be no different. It’s not a special occasion or anything. Just a drink before they head back uptown for dinner at a new restaurant Ben’s sister told him about.

This is weird.

Everett walks through the dining room, also softly lit now, and then into the large, spotless kitchen. Empty.

He doubles back to the living room and from there turns down a long hallway that leads to Ben’s bedroom. Halfway down the hall Everett sees the door is cracked open.

He pushes it slowly and enters, and then he hears it. Water. The sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

“Yo, Ben.” He doesn’t say it above a whisper this time.

He crosses the wide bedroom and into a bathroom that’s bigger than Everett’s first apartment. Water is streaming from multiple rain-shower fixtures that are flush with the ceiling. Glass and grey stone cover every surface. An expansive picture window on the south-facing wall frames Freedom Tower, lit against the darkening sky.

And there, standing in the center of the window looking out, is Ben. His broad shoulders taper down sharply into a lean, tight waist, where a low-slung white towel accentuates his round, athletic ass. Before Everett can say anything, Ben turns around, fixes his grey-green eyes on him and smiles.

“Hey man, you’re early,” Ben says.

“You’re not dressed.”

“No,” Ben says, and he drops the towel. His cock is huge, uncut and curving slightly to the right.

Everett has learned there’s no possible way to stand in a room with an unclothed Ben Langley and not have a reaction. But he doesn’t have time to process the thought because Ben closes the distance between them in three steps. Ben takes his face in both hands, weaving thick fingers into his beard, and kisses him like they haven’t been in the same room together in a year.

The heat of Ben’s mouth and the roughness of scruff scraping his own still take his breath away, even though it’s been over a month since it happened for the very first time. He stands there, frozen in the moment, letting Ben kiss him, so he kisses him back. And they stay like that for several minutes.

“I moved the reservation,” Ben says, releasing himself from the kiss. “It’s nine-thirty now.”

“Ha. You assumed.”

“Nah, I knew.”

Then Ben firmly guides Everett backwards towards the shower and starts to pull off his jacket at the same time.

“Ben, I’m dressed.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Ben says, peeling the jacket off. “That’s exactly why I’m doing what I’m doing.” The jacket’s off and he lobs it towards the sinks and then moves on to Everett’s belt.

“Well, fuck,” Everett says, laughing. “You think I’d ever turn you down?”

He finishes what Ben had started with the belt, then hauls his sweater vest over his head and tosses both onto the newly formed pile with his jacket. Ben moves in and kisses him again, and starts pushing him back to the shower.

Everett shakes free and laughs, “Jesus, hang on… my shoes.”

Ben laughs into his neck, and Everett swears, and toes the shoes off one at a time without letting go of Ben’s waist. Then the water’s running over both of them and the rest of Everett’s clothes stop mattering.

It’s still new enough between them that they’re clumsy like a couple of teenagers. But then the pants come off, then the briefs, stocking feet sliding on the wet stone, and next the shirt. It’s soaked through and Ben has to peel it off Everett’s shoulders and down. Then it’s just the two of them under the water and it isn’t clumsy anymore.

Ben fits against him and it feels right. Everett’s thicker and has thirty to forty pounds on Ben, but they’re nearly the same height and almost equally sizable everywhere else. He gets his hands on Ben’s lower back and pulls him in close. Chest to chest, cocks rubbing against each other; Everett never knew this was something he wanted until Ben. And now it’s all he wants.

Ben grunts into Everett’s mouth so Everett kisses him harder. Ben drops his hands to find Everett’s swollen balls and massive throbbing cock, and goes to work on both, applying just the right amount of pressure that he knows Everett will respond to.

Without breaking the kiss Everett’s hands move up to Ben’s chest, his palms barely covering the fullness of Ben’s pecs. He massages and kneads them, feeling the firm muscle fiber beneath the thick hair, and Ben moans softly. When Everett’s thumbs start to circle Ben’s erect nipples, the volume of Ben’s moaning increases as if Everett is turning it up with a dial.

After a bit Everett pulls back and looks at Ben. He just wants to take in the face of the man in front of him, the full mouth and square jaw, straight nose and those eyes.

The most beautiful fucking eyes.

“What?” Ben says, looking back.

His thick, brown hair is slicked to his head and every muscle gleams under the streams of shower water flowing over him. It runs off his shoulders in rivulets, down his chest and abs, flattening the dark hair everywhere.

“Nothing,” Everett says. He lifts a big hand and places his palm on Ben’s upper chest with his thumb and fingers circling just below Ben’s throat. “You. Just you.”

He doesn’t say what he wants to say even though he feels it. In his chest and his head and every part of his body. He’s not sure if it’s the right word so soon. The only thing Everett Shaw is sure of is that it’s there, in him, and it isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Ben smiles, then drops to his knees and takes Everett in his mouth, and Everett’s head falls back against the grey stone with a thud.

I’m in trouble here.

And neither of them seems to notice the city night has come to life right outside the picture window.

To be continued…

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Here's how Proximity Arc 2 - Escalate will work: the first three full episodes are free for everyone, but if you’re feeling Ben’s pull after that it’ll start costing something. For $6 a month you’re in the room for all of it.

And please note, the publication day is moving from every Thursday to every Friday.