by Sean Michael
THERE WAS a Halloween party at the Iron Eagle, and Stack had called Robin, asked him to go. They could check in, do the rounds, then go somewhere for dancing in costumes. When Robin had hemmed and hawed, he’d reminded the boy that he’d taken a rain check from their evening at York Steakhouse, and Robin had agreed.
He’d told Robin he’d be dressed as a lion, which he was—he had a mane, whiskers, and paws, along with a tail. As he knocked on Robin’s door, he wondered if Robin would be wearing a complementary costume. He hoped so.
The apartment building was old and dingy, not at all where he’d imagined his boy, but he made sure his face was straight when Robin opened the door.
“Hey there. Come on in.” Robin was dressed like a mouse, with a sparkly collar and a gray T-shirt and jeans.
“You look adorable.” And totally matched with him. Stack appreciated that. He appreciated Robin.
He looked around, taking in the tiny place. Maybe Robin had dressed as a mouse because that’s how big his apartment was—big enough for a mouse.
“Thank you. Have a seat. I’m going to finish my makeup.”
There was a single chair and a bed, and he chose the chair. The scent of Robin wafted up, surrounding him. It hit him hard that Robin wasn’t with him anymore. This scent used to live in his house.
“Sorry, I just wanted to do my eyes.” Robin came out of the bathroom, eyes lined with black, making him look so exotic, so sexual. “You didn’t have to come pick me up. I would have met you there.”
“I wanted to go with you, though. You look fantastic.” Stack held out his paw. “Do you want to check for splinters?”
“You got it.” Robin looked so pleased, made a show of checking his paw out.
He gave Robin his best purrs and trills. There was a time he would have felt silly doing it, but it was Halloween, and they were role-playing, right?
Robin looked up at him, the collar sparkling around his throat. He touched it with the paw Robin wasn’t examining.
“It looks good on you.”
“Thank you. I thought it was pretty.”
“It is.” Everything about Robin was pretty. Stack remembered that. It went double in the mouse costume, with the collar and the makeup. “I guess we should go or all the nibbles will be gone.” And if they were going to go dancing, they needed to make sure they got some food first.
“Thank you for the invitation. I appreciate it.”
“I thought you’d enjoy the costume party, and I know you like dancing.” Stack wasn’t very good at it. But if Robin didn’t mind being seen with a lumbering bear—or lion in this case—who was he to say no?
“I do. My boss is having a party, but… it’s not my scene.”
“No, the Eagle is your kind of scene. What is your boss into?”
“Art. Diamonds. Caviar. She’s high rent.”
“Sounds… uh….” Kind of like Robin was getting the fact he didn’t have those things rubbed into his nose every day at work.
“Yeah, I know. There’s not much work for a guy with an art history degree, though, so I’ll take it. Are you ready to go?”
Damn, he hadn’t meant to denigrate Robin’s job. “I am. And I’m glad you’ve found a job where you use your degree. It would have sucked being a cashier at a supermarket or something like that.” He stood and held Robin’s door open for him.
“Yeah. I’m not sure that would be up my alley.” Robin locked the door, checked it.
He offered Robin his arm once they were on the street, and Robin took it. It felt good having that slender hand resting against his skin.
People were thick on the street—dressed up in wild costumes, all sorts of skin showing. There was an electric vibe in the air. Something hot, sexual.
A part of him wanted to push Robin against the wall and take his sweet mouth. Stack wondered what Robin would say if he followed his instincts, what Robin would do. Robin had been the one to leave, so a part of him felt that meant Robin had to be the one to make the first move now.
Of course, the Dom in him worried that Robin might not ever take that first step. Robin was a sub, after all.
He slid his hand over Robin’s where it lay on his arm, and squeezed.
“Are you all right, Mas—Stack?”
“I am.” They turned the corner, the gym right there, and Stack gave in to his instincts. He pushed Robin against the brick wall and took a single hard kiss. Then he put Robin’s hand back in the crook of his arm and headed into the gym, the flavor of his boy on his lips.
Robin’s hand trembled against his arm, proving how much Robin was affected.
Good. His instincts were still spot on.
He led Robin into the gym, the place totally transformed into a Halloween fantasy. Stack knew Robin had given up his membership, but he also knew no one would argue with them. Not now.
The main floor of the gym had been split into two sections. One side had lit-up bats and pumpkins, life-size vampires, and ogres in the corners, along with a long table full of food. The other side had been transformed into a haunted house.
Stack pointed to the entrance. “You want to go through the haunted house?” He could take another kiss inside.
“Is it supposed to be frightening or silly?”
He heard a shriek. “That sounded real—I’m going to go with frightening.”
“I’d rather not. I still get nervous by myself at night.”
“Are you sure? I’d hold on to you the whole way.”
“All right. You hold on.”
“I promise I won’t let go.” He put his arm around Robin’s shoulders.
They walked into the dark, the strobe lights flashing. The first thing that happened was a hockey-masked man with a hook rushing at them.
Stack pulled Robin closer, but he knew this guy wasn’t that scary—they’d been braced, and they’d only just come out of the light. It didn’t seem that bad. Stack had a feeling it was going to get scarier.
They walked forward, whispers beginning in the background, a red light flashing, not bright, but enough to see shadows and things in the corners for just a moment.
Robin panted softly, face pressed against his arm.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They continued forward. A banshee screamed and jumped out at them. It startled Stack, and he wrapped both arms around Robin.
“I don’t like this,” Robin whispered. “I’ll have to sleep with the lights on.”
“I’m sorry. I thought it would only be scary while we were in here.” And honestly, he hadn’t expected it to be this frightening. Maybe he could make up for it by staying over at Robin’s tonight so he didn’t have to be afraid.
Another person ran at them, chains bringing him up just short of reaching them. A rush of adrenaline had Stack pulling Robin away, even though he knew these men were actors hired for the party. He wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to Robin, though.
The next section led them through a tiny corridor squished between cloth-covered balloons. The material pressed against them, pushing on their faces. Stack turned and walked backward, holding Robin against his chest. “We’ve got this,” he promised.
“I’m sorry. I’m so stupid to be all wigged.”
“Shh. It’s pretty damn scary this year. This section’s particularly bad.” A cackle and a touch on his shoulder had him jerking and wincing.
“Don’t touch!” Robin snapped. “That’s against the rules!”
“I don’t think that was a person,” Stack noted. A second touch had felt rubbery. And sure enough, as they got out of the tight tunnel section, there were all sorts of fake limbs hanging from the ceiling.
“Oh.” Robin’s cheeks went bright red. “Sorry.”
It had pleased Stack, his boy defending him. “It felt pretty damn real—no apologies necessary.” The rest of the “house” wasn’t nearly as scary as the start had been. Stack figured they’d been banking on the boo factor building, but with him and Robin talking and holding each othe
r, it hadn’t worked like that.
They got to the end, and he wanted another kiss; he wanted Robin pressed against him.
He wanted his lover back.
They stumbled out together, a flash going off. One of the group of little twinks manning the attraction came over. “You can pick up your picture on the gym’s website in a couple of days.”
“Excellent. Thank you.” He didn’t let Robin pull away. Not yet.
Stack walked Robin over to a quiet corner, the only other occupant the big vampire statue with the lighted red eyes. He turned Robin to look at him. “We made it through, I’m very proud of you.” Then he took the kiss he wanted.
Robin tasted like heaven. Like his. He remembered this like it was etched on his soul. Robin wrapped his arms around Stack’s shoulders and held on.
Why had they split up again? Kissing Robin like this, Stack couldn’t remember.
“You taste so good, Master.”
“Ditto.” He could happily lose himself in Robin’s flavor.
There was a shriek from the haunted house, and he raised his head with reluctance, letting go of the kiss.
Robin stood there, blinking, staring at him.
He touched Robin’s cheek, slid his finger along it. “I need to feed my little mouse.”
Robin’s lips popped open right on cue. Stack slipped his thumb into Robin’s mouth, groaning as Robin closed his lips and began sucking.
“Fuck. My boy.” His balls drew up so fast he couldn’t breathe. He was going to lose himself in this if he wasn’t careful, and drag Robin to the beds upstairs and fuck him into tomorrow.
Hell, there was nothing wrong with that plan. Nothing at all.
“Let’s go upstairs, boy. There’s too many ghosts and ghouls down here.”
As if to prove his point, Bryan, dressed as a French maid, came over with a tray of glasses full of what looked like blood and eyeballs. “Dirty martini anyone?”
Robin stared, then began to chuckle. “Oh dear.”
“They say you eat with your eyes first, not that you eat the eyes first,” Stack said somberly, making both Bryan and Robin laugh.
“So glad you’re here, Robin. Seriously.”
“Thank you. Stack invited me.”
“Oh?” Bryan drew the word out, one of his eyebrows going up.
Stack refused to satisfy Bryan’s curiosity. He and Robin were working on it. Well, he was. He hoped that’s why Robin had accepted his invitation.
“I don’t want a drink, Bryan. Thank you.”
“I’m going to pass on the blood and eyeballs too.”
Bryan giggled and took his tray to the next cluster of people.
Stack smiled at Robin. “Come upstairs with me, boy.”
“Yes, sir.”
Robin’s easy acceptance filled him with self-confidence and pleasure. He wasn’t the only one who missed them.
They had been together for three years. They needed this.
Taking Robin’s hand, he slipped out the door at the back of the gym and took the stairs up to the bunks, his cock hard, body eager.
Robin’s fingers trembled in his, his boy wanting him bad. Thank God—it would have sucked if he’d been in this alone.
The place was deserted, and he locked the door so they wouldn’t be disturbed and dragged Robin over to the closest bunk. Sitting, he pulled Robin into his lap and took another kiss.
“Is this smart?” Robin whispered.
“I don’t know if it’s smart or not, but it is necessary.” He put his hand over Robin’s crotch, pressing against the hard head he found there.
Robin groaned, arching hard into his hand. “Master!”
“That’s right, boy.” He massaged Robin’s cock, groaning at how good it felt, how perfectly Robin fit in his palm. “My boy.”
Robin sobbed softly, driving up in his fist.
“I’m going to let you come. And then you’re going to go onto your knees and suck me, boy.” He hadn’t felt Robin’s mouth around his cock in almost eight months. He was ready.
Robin nodded, the expression sheer need.
He pushed his hand into Robin’s jeans and touched the hot, silky flesh. He groaned as that sweet heat burned his palm. His ring was still embedded in the tip, the metal slicked by precome.
Groaning, he worked it with his thumb, moving it back and forth, teasing Robin’s slit while he was at it.
“Are you plugged, boy?” he whispered.
“No. I haven’t…. Not since….”
He shook his head. “You’ve let yourself slide, Robin. You need a master.” Robin needed him.
He pressed his finger into Robin’s slit.
“Not in the—” The words ended in a happy cry.
His sweet little pain slut.
Stack kept his finger pressed into Robin’s slit and moved it from side to side, giving Robin the sting he craved.
“I want to fuck your cock. Stuff your hole. Whip you.”
Robin began to gasp, over and over.
“I know what you need, boy. I know exactly what you crave.” He grabbed the head of Robin’s cock, pinched it.
Spunk poured from his boy, wet and hot and needy. Groaning, he brought his hand to his lips and licked the come from it, Robin’s taste flooding his senses.
“On your knees, boy. Suck me off.”
Robin hit the floor with gratifying speed.
He didn’t undo his jeans, letting Robin do this from the start all on his own. He couldn’t wait to feel those slender fingers on his prick, followed by Robin’s hot mouth. He did spread his legs, giving Robin room to work. No one was as lovely as his boy, fishing out Stack’s cock.
He groaned as Robin’s fingers touched his skin, spread his legs wider as the air hit his hot flesh. “All for you, boy. Every inch.”
“Every inch. All of you.” Robin opened up, tongue sliding over Stack’s cockhead, teasing him.
His balls drew up and he made more noise. “Fuck.” It was so good. He hadn’t had anything but his hand since they’d split, and this was so much better. So amazing.
He slid his hand into Robin’s hair, the long locks easy to grab on to and tug. He pulled Robin’s head back hard, then took a kiss, pushing his tongue between Robin’s lips. Then he let go, resting his hands back on the bed to keep himself from guiding Robin. This was his boy’s show. For now.
The little beard tickled his cock, his balls, as Robin deep-throated him.
He cried out, hips bucking up, keeping his cock deep in his boy’s throat for a moment. The column of muscles rippled around his prick.
“Fuck.” He grunted the word this time, his toes curling.
Robin’s hum vibrated against him, and he grabbed Robin’s head. Wrapping his fingers in Robin’s hair, he tugged, moving Robin up and down along his cock, reveling in the wet heat. His balls drew up tight, his orgasm right there, so close.
“Robin….” It was half warning, half plea for just that last bit he needed. His boy grabbed him, tugging him in to the root.
“Yes!” He shouted it as he came, pouring his spunk down Robin’s throat. Robin took every drop, swallowing around the tip.
He collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard as Robin continued to suck gently. His legs twitched, and he groaned again.
Christ. How had he lost this?
Robin slowly cleaned his cock. Then Stack hooked his hands beneath Robin’s underarms and pulled him up.
Robin watched him, eyes serious, staring.
“Hey.” He ran his hands through Robin’s hair, touched his boy’s face, the lovely smooth skin.
“Hey.” Robin smiled for him.
“That was very nice.” He leaned up and brought their mouths together, pushing his tongue into Robin’s mouth. He could taste himself there, on Robin’s tongue.
He was still hard, still aching for more.
“Want you, boy. I want to be deep inside you.”
“Here?”
He shook his head. No. Anyone could knock at
the door at any moment, and the bunks were too small for them to sleep on together. “Come home with me.”
“Yeah? You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, Robin.” He kissed Robin thoroughly, then slapped his ass. “Up. Dressed. We have plans.”
“Yes, sir.” Robin closed his pants, then tucked Stack’s cock away.
“Mmm, thank you, boy.” There’d been a time he’d taken this kind of thing for granted. No more, though.
He made sure Robin didn’t look too fucked, then took his boy’s hand and headed down the back stairs, intent on leaving right now, not stopping at the party on the second floor.
“Stack!” a voice Stack recognized as Terry’s called. “Stack, I have a boy I want you to meet. I know you’re in the market, and this one’s right up your alley!”
He looked at Robin. “I’m not in the market.” He’d never asked anyone to help him find a replacement for Robin.
Robin tried to pull away, but he wasn’t going to have it. No, he’d lost his boy once for months. No more. He wasn’t letting Robin run away again.
“You’re not? But I thought—oh. Sorry. Sorry.” Terry put up his hands and backed away. “My bad.”
“I…. Do you want me to…? Maybe I ought to go home.”
“You’re coming home with me,” Stack insisted.
“Are you sure?”
“Asked and answered, boy.” Stack continued toward the door with Robin.
“Yes, sir.”
Every time Robin said that, it grated. He was Robin’s master, dammit.
He squeezed Robin’s hand and moved faster, ignoring the people they passed. He wanted to get Robin home where it was just the two of them.
“I…. You missed your party.”
“We did the haunted house. Are you hungry?” It just occurred to him that they hadn’t eaten. They hadn’t danced, either. He didn’t care—he wanted Robin. He wanted to go make love to his boy and remind Robin how good they were together, how happy they’d been when Robin had last been at his house.
“No. No, I’m nervous, excited.”
“I can feed you later. There’s food at home.” He was sure there was something they could eat. He didn’t know what, but he didn’t care either. Robin was his focus.
“Home.” That single word said so much, held pain and need and hunger.
