The Eager Boy

by Sean Michael

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m crying all over you!” She sniffed a few times, then grabbed some tissues from the fancy little box on the counter. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose—definitely not in a fancy way.

  Robin was beginning to think he’d fallen into another dimension.

  She took a few breaths and straightened her spine, checked her makeup and hair in the mirror like she was putting on armor. Then she took one more deep breath and turned to him, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, Robin, I didn’t mean to fall apart like that. Why don’t we both just get back to work, okay?”

  “Are you sure?” He wasn’t an idiot. He could help with things.

  She pursed her lips and blinked again. “You need to stop being nice, or I’m going to lose it again.” She took yet another deep breath. “It probably would be a good idea if you looked for another job.”

  His jaw dropped. What the hell? She was going to fire him now?

  “I’m not sure how long the gallery is going to be solvent,” she told him. “If these next two artists don’t sell and sell well, I’m going to have to dec—close shop.”

  Oh. Oh, dammit. “So close, huh? That sucks.”

  She sighed. “I’m trying to make things work. I really am. But there’s been a series of unfortunate events that are adding up. But none of that is your fault. So if you go find something else, I won’t blame you. Until then, I need for Wednesday night’s opening to go better than perfect.”

  “Well, it’ll be great. There’s buzz.” And the paintings were fun and vibrant. Maybe he’d get some of the guys to come.

  “I sure hope so.” She looked at her watch. “Go on. Get back to it—it’s not going to happen if we don’t put the work in now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and headed to the back. He felt…. Oh, what did it matter what he felt? He needed to do his job and try to not panic. At least now he had an explanation for why Julie had been such a bitch—and it had nothing to do with him.

  He sat back on the floor and nearly levitated back to his feet as that pushed the plug in deeper, rocking it against his gland.

  “Goddammit.” He had to focus. Had to. No one cared if—well, that wasn’t true. Stack cared.

  Stack was thinking about him. And not just sexually—there’d been a delicious lunch in that bag. Stack had paid attention, knew he hadn’t been eating, and had done something about it, even though he’d had a sick tiger. His master really had heard his complaints this time.

  He closed his eyes a second, centered himself, then got back to work. He could do this. Even if his ass was filled with a crazy-big plug. At least that meant his master was there with him in spirit.

  Chapter Sixteen

  STACK PULLED up in front of the gallery, wondering if Robin would be waiting for him, or if he’d have to go in and fetch his boy. If he had to do that, he couldn’t promise not to go off on Robin’s boss.

  His boy wasn’t waiting on the sidewalk for him, so he revved the engine noisily a few times, then turned the engine off. He put down the kickstand and took off his helmet. Come on, Robin. No more late nights. He was ready to ride with his boy plastered up against his back, knowing the plug was making Robin crazy, feeling that in the heat of Robin’s cock against him.

  He’d been able to get home, have a nap, and he knew Robin had left for work at the crack of dawn because he’d seen the payment for the taxi at 6:00 a.m.

  With it being well after 6:00 p.m. now, that was a hell of a long day, and Robin needed to be done. He waited for a moment on the bike, watching the gallery door closely.

  Robin headed out of a room, a cup of coffee in hand. He looked tired, pinched, more than a little stressed out as he spoke to someone, then nodded and waved. Well, at least he was wrapping up his day instead of staying longer. Stack didn’t like how exhausted he looked, though.

  He gave Robin a warm smile as his boy came out the door, coffee in hand. That was going to have to go. Of course, Robin drained it, tossed the paper cup, and headed over to him. “Hey.”

  “Hey, baby.” He leaned slightly for a kiss, but he didn’t linger as long as he would have liked—they were on the street after all. “How’re you doing?”

  “It’s been a day. I’m glad to see you.”

  “Do I need to be the big bad?” He totally would. He might even if Robin didn’t need him to.

  “No. No, it’s—just, no.”

  “No? Okay. Climb on, and you can tell me about it when we get where we’re going.” He gave Robin a wicked smile. “We’re going to ride for a while.” He was going to drive his boy crazy.

  Robin blushed dark, put on his helmet, and slipped onto the bike. Stack put his own helmet back on and kick-started the motorcycle. He waited until Robin’s arms came around his waist, his boy snugged up tight to him, then moved into the flow of traffic.

  Robin stayed close, cheek on his shoulder. Every bump they went over rubbed Robin’s cock against his ass and, he knew, jolted the plug inside his boy. He went over a lot of bumps.

  Every so often, he heard a soft gasp, a low moan. Each one made him grin. He knew he was getting his boy good and worked up.

  He needed Robin to understand that they were good, that they could do this, even with busy lives. He took the back roads, staying out of the worst of the traffic and in the best of the bumpy streets. He finally stopped outside of Dunn’s deli. He had a pound of smoked meat, a loaf of rye bread, and a pound of coleslaw on order.

  “We’re having wicked sandwiches, are we? I love those.”

  He knew that. It was why he’d put the order in. “Stay put, and I’ll go get our order.”

  “Yes, Master. Thank you.” Robin gave him a bright smile.

  He took a quick kiss, then went in, feeling on top of the world. His order was ready. He handed over the cash and grabbed the bag before heading back out to his boy.

  Robin was smiling at him, watching him, waiting for him. God, Robin looked stunning in his work clothes, leaning against the back of his bike. Very hot. If Robin wasn’t already his, he’d be polishing up his best lines to use.

  As it was, he just beamed and licked his lips. He watched Robin’s eyes go wide, watched him blush again and smile.

  “Looking good, boy,” Stack said as he came up to the bike and put the food in the back pouch.

  “Thank you, Master. I try.”

  “You do more than try—you do.” He laughed at himself. “Now I sound like Yoda.”

  “You’re way better-looking. Way.” Robin leaned over, took a kiss.

  “Thank you, baby. I’m glad you think so.” Stack put his helmet back on and straddled the bike again. “We’re going to take this to the park and have a picnic. Then I’ll take you home and feed your other hungers.”

  “We are?” Robin smiled. “We haven’t had a picnic together in… years.”

  “I know. I thought it would be nice to have one today.” He waited for Robin to climb up behind him and hold on, patted Robin’s hand and started the bike up again.

  “You’re the best part of my whole day,” Robin said.

  It didn’t get much better than that.

  And it didn’t take very long to get to the park. He stopped the bike in one of the parking spots, and they both got off. “You’re the best part of my days too.”

  “Some days. I know you have great days with the cats.”

  “Well, yeah, I love working with them. They’re not you, though.” He grabbed the bag with their supper and the blanket he’d packed, then took Robin’s hand and guided them toward a tree with an empty spot beneath it.

  Before they stopped, he stole a quick grope, a nudge of the plug. Robin gasped.

  “Surely you were expecting that?” His boy was indeed overtired if he hadn’t been.

  “I wasn’t expecting it to feel so big.”

  Stack chuckled. “You should always expect it to be big with me.”

  He picked the spot he wanted and spread out the blanket. Robin ease
d himself down on his knees, carefully not sitting.

  Stack shook his head. “That doesn’t look comfortable, baby.”

  “It doesn’t?” Robin’s expression was so fake.

  He snorted, then grinned and grabbed the extra bag he’d pulled out of the saddlebags. He handed over the little pillow he’d brought. Robin’s cheeks went bright pink.

  “Thank you.”

  Stack reached out and cupped Robin’s face, rubbed his thumb along the warm skin. “You see? I thought of everything.” He also had two plastic cups and napkins in the bag.

  “I was so surprised to get my package.”

  “I hope it cheered your day up.” That had been his intention. Well, that and getting food into his boy.

  “It did, and it turned out I really needed it. My boss is about to lose the gallery. She’s really upset.”

  Now there was a surprise. “Is that why she’s been such a slave driver?” That still wasn’t fair to Robin, but at least it would be a reason.

  “I think so. There were tears and panic. She’s upset.”

  “Wow. Huh.” Stack took their food out, along with the bottle of water. He filled both glasses, grabbed the plastic plates, and began building their smoked-meat sandwiches. “So where does that leave you workwise?”

  “She says I ought to look for another job.”

  “So she’s not exaggerating—it’s pretty serious.” He squeezed Robin’s hand. “Well, you wanted something different. You’ve got her blessing for that now, which will make it easier to leave once you do find something.”

  “Yeah. I feel bad, though, you know?”

  “Yeah, I bet. But you still need to look out for yourself—do what’s right for you.” He presented Robin with a nice thick smoked-meat sandwich with mustard on rye bread.

  “Oh. Oh, this looks…. Thank you. Seriously.” Robin fell on the sandwich, eating like he was starving.

  “You’re welcome, boy. It’s my pleasure.” It sure was. He liked being able to do little things for Robin, to make him happy. He dug into his own sandwich. It was good. He didn’t go crazy over smoked-meat sandwiches like Robin did, but he did like them well enough.

  “This is… thank you. I know I said it already, but…. Thank you.”

  He took Robin’s hand and pressed a kiss on Robin’s knuckles. “You’re welcome. Now eat up.”

  Robin nodded and ate, eager, obviously hungry. Stack ate more slowly, but he had a bigger mouth, and they were finished around the same time.

  “There’s dessert too. Those little sandwich cookies with caramel inside.”

  “Oh, you love those. That’s wonderful. Treats for both of us.”

  “Yep.” He drank down his water to clear his palate, then grabbed one of the cookies and popped the entire thing into his mouth.

  Robin chuckled, expression fond and warm.

  “Hush, boy,” he teased, smiling.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Robin shot back.

  “No, you’re my sweet and innocent boy.” He couldn’t remember the last time either of them had been innocent.

  “That’s me, pure as the driven snow.”

  “Well, I’d certainly like to drive you.” All the way home and then through the night. He stared at Robin, admiring every line. His boy held himself differently when he wore a plug, sat differently. It was sexy.

  “You should wear a plug every day, boy.”

  Robin blushed, and he reached out to touch that warm cheek, unable to resist.

  “I mean it. Every day.”

  “Master….” Robin leaned into his touch.

  “I’m right here. And I want to turn you over my bike and fuck you until you scream.”

  “That would get us arrested.”

  He laughed. “It so would. It’s a nice little fantasy, though.”

  “It is that, yeah.” Robin leaned against him, solid and heavy.

  Leaning down, he kissed the top of Robin’s head. He liked this; the quiet times they had together were as important as the loud ones. He craved his boy’s peace, this ease.

  He didn’t try to move them along—they had nowhere they needed to be but with each other. The sun was setting, coloring the sky with a range from pink to dark blue, and there was a light breeze blowing, keeping the mosquitoes down.

  “I love you.” Robin sounded relaxed, happy.

  “I love you too, boy.” More than anything. He was so glad Robin had come back.

  They needed to empty out his boy’s apartment, get rid of the expense of rent. That would help take the stress off Robin financially. He was all about taking the stress off.

  He shifted and sat back, using his arms to support himself, and Robin lay with his head in Stack’s lap. “Happy, baby?”

  “Uh-huh. More than happy. More than.”

  “Then I guess I’m doing something right.” Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and just breathed.

  A buzzing in his ear finally made him decide it was time to go home. Damn things. Besides, he needed to take the plug out and give Robin an orgasm—his boy had been needing that all day long. Or at least since lunchtime.

  “Up, boy. Time to take you home and bend you over the sofa.” It was the next best thing to bending Robin over his bike. Maybe they’d have to take a trip to somewhere secluded so he could fulfill that particular fantasy. For now, the sofa it was. Of course he got to rev Robin up on the way home first. He’d be sure to go over as many bumps as he safely could.

  “Oh.” Robin blinked up at him, eyes wide, wanton. Beautiful boy. Robin’s eagerness never failed to ratchet up his own desire and need.

  He slid out from under Robin and stood, then hauled his boy up. It didn’t take much at all for them to fold up the blanket and shove it, the two glasses, and Robin’s pillow into the bag. The leftovers they just tossed into a trash can—there wasn’t enough for another meal anyway. Then they headed back to the bike.

  “You ready for round two of traveling with plug?”

  “Yes. That’s… delicious.” Robin shivered.

  “Maybe we’ll take the long way home.” They’d certainly taken their time and doubled back a lot to get to the park in the first place.

  “Silly man.”

  Stack noticed that wasn’t a no. “Are you calling your master silly for trying to drive you insane with pleasure?” They came up to the bike, and he shoved the blanket and other stuff into the back pouch.

  “Yes, Master. Are you going to punish me?” Little tease.

  “Do you want me to punish you? I could totally add a dozen swats as you’re bent over the sofa before I fuck you.” That actually sounded nice—Robin’s skin warmed for him to come together with, over and over.

  “You could warm me up, Master. I don’t need punishing—just you.”

  “Twelve love swats, then.” He brought Robin to him and gave him a light kiss on the lips before they put their helmets on. Someone in the park made rude noises, but he ignored them.

  “Let’s go home, Master. It’s getting dark.”

  “Yeah.” And that was bringing the assholes out. A fight now, even a verbal one, would totally ruin the mood they had building here. He put his helmet on and straddled the bike. As soon as Robin was secure behind him, he kick-started the bike and headed off.

  His boy stayed close, pushed up tight against him, rocking into his ass. He groaned. Robin wasn’t making this easy. That needy cock pressing against him was making his own cock push hard at his leathers. He decided to go directly home—Robin didn’t need the extra revving-up.

  Robin moaned for him, the sound soft, wanton. Yeah, definitely straight home.

  There were still plenty of bumps along the way, and he knew the vibration from the bike was getting to Robin—after all, it was getting to him.

  Robin’s fingers were on his belly, moving, stroking, petting. Naughty boy. Naughty, wonderful, teasing boy.

  He cut the last corner a little tight, but he knew what he was doing. Then they were ho
me, and he stopped the bike in its spot at the side of the house. “Got you home alive,” he noted as he reached behind him to grab Robin’s ass and give it a squeeze.

  “I never doubt you.”

  Pulling his helmet off, he turned halfway around, and as soon as Robin’s helmet was off as well, he kissed his boy for that comment, good and hard. He was going to have to make those swats extra special.

  Robin arched, his rock-hard erection grinding against his thigh.

  “Save that thought, boy.” He squeezed Robin’s cock through his slacks, then made himself let go and get off the bike. It would be so easy to forget where they were and do his boy right here, right now. Desire, passion, was running through him.

  “I need you, Master. I’ve been aching all day.”

  “I know. Come on.” He grabbed his helmet and the picnic supplies he’d brought and headed upstairs, eager to get to it.

  Robin was being uncharacteristically playful, gripping his ass, rubbing against him on the way.

  “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, laughing at one particularly enthusiastic squeeze.

  “A giant plug!”

  Chortling, he let Robin in. “I might have to send you one every day, then. Or I could put one in every morning—give you a fun way to start the morning and something to remember me by.”

  “Be good, now.” Oh, he thought Robin was excited by that thought.

  “I’m being extremely good, boy.” Look at him—making sure Robin knew he had Stack’s attention. Even when he was with a sick cat.

  “You are. You fill me up.”

  “In more ways than one, eh?” Stack grabbed Robin’s ass and found the base of the plug, pushed at it. He loved the squeak that earned him from his boy. “Little size queen.”

  Robin totally didn’t deny it, but then Stack hadn’t expected him to. He left his helmet, the blanket, and the bag on the kitchen table and then took Robin’s hand and dragged him into the living room. The couch was calling to him. “Over the back, boy. Give me that ass.”

  “Do you want me to get undressed first?”

  “No, I want you to do as you’re told, baby.” He wanted to tear the clothes from his boy’s body.