by A. E. Wasp
Robbie squinted into the lights that seemed brighter than usual and nodded. He squeezed Paul’s knee under the table. “Ready as we’ll ever be.”
He flicked the microphone on. Robbie leaned into it. “Hi. I’m Robbie. Hi.”
The audience laughed, breaking the tension.
“I guess you all know why we’re here.” Robbie struggled with what to say after that. The words on the paper the PR guy had placed in front of him swam in the bright lights and tension. He was going to sound like a moron. Maybe he could get away with standing up, saying I’m gay, I like dick, particularly this guy’s, and running out of the room.
Probably not.
The silence stretched until one reporter finally took pity on him. “So, Robbie, your team released a statement saying that you’re coming out today. That you’re gay and you wanted everyone to know it.”
A little of the tension leaked out of the room. “Yes. Ah yes. That is true. I’m gay. That’s what I wanted to say.” Jesus. Why couldn’t he speak like a normal person?
Paul squeezed his hand and smiled. Robbie saw all the eyes in the room track over to him.
“Hey, y’all,” Paul said, laying it on thick. “I know y’all weren’t expecting me here today. I know Rhodes wasn’t. Hell, I wasn’t really expecting me to be here.”
“So why are you?” someone called.
“Well, I couldn’t rightly let my boyfriend be out here all by himself, now could I?”
Not surprisingly, a bunch of people started speaking at the same time. One voice rang out over the rest. “Did you say boyfriend?” ask a woman Robbie didn’t recognize.
“Yes, ma’am. I did. Just to be perfectly clear, I, Paul Dyson, current Thunder defenseman and formerly Huntsville Charger, go Chargers!, am gay, and I am dating – and I am truly sorry to admit this – a former Bemidji Beaver. I hope the fine state of Alabama will find it in their hearts to forgive me. He can’t help being a Beaver. He was born that way.”
A sharp wolf-whistle rang out from the sea of baby blue jerseys, followed by some rowdy howls and clapping. U-A-H, someone chanted U-A-H!
Robbie leaned in close to Paul. “You’re amazing.”
“I know,” he said with a grin, leaning in.
“Kiss him!” Lipe bellowed from the floor. Robbie would recognize that voice anywhere.
“Bite me, Lipe,” Paul yelled back.
Next to Robbie, the press guy dropped his head into his hands.
38
Paul
Eventually, Bryce, Jake, and Coach Williams managed to get the press conference back on track. Mostly by kicking out the rest of the team.
When the conference ended, Paul and Robbie introduced their families to each other and to the coach. They got bullied into dragging everyone down to the Puck for celebratory drinks and food. Robbie was deeply grateful for his teammates, and he proved it by picking up the tab.
Paul knew things wouldn’t always go this smoothly, there was bound to be a backlash, but for one night, he was going to enjoy being completely out and proud for the first time.
Both his and Robbie’s phones blew up with texts and calls all night. Only one got Robbie’s attention. It was a short one from his ex-boyfriend Drew. Paul read it over his shoulder.
Glad you finally found someone worth it he wrote.
Thank you, Robbie responded. I’m sorry I didn’t understand
Don’t sweat it, Drew replied. Just be happy.
I am.
Good.
There was a moment of awkwardness at the end of the night, as they tried to figure out logistics. Paul didn’t care about his father’s sensibilities one bit. If he thought Paul was going to spend the night without Robbie, he was crazy.
And, well, if he thought they were going to spend the night screwing each other’s brains out, he was completely right.
They finally ended up having Grant drive Stoney and Sissy back to Paul’s place in the Prius.
“This is your car?” Stoney said in surprise.
Paul snorted and Robbie elbowed him in the stomach.
“They get excellent gas mileage,” Grant said seriously.
Paul’s body shook with silent laughter.
Robbie ignored him. “You sure you’re all okay with this?” Things had been a little stiff between Georgia and Stoney. Not bad, but awkward. It was going to be tight quarters in the car.
“We’re fine,” his mother said. “We’ll drop them off and then head over to our hotel. We’ll call you boys in the morning and make plans.”
“Game day,” Stoney said, as if Paul and Robbie might forget.
“I’ll see if I can get tickets,” Robbie offered.
“Great. That’s great.” Paul was done with company. He kissed his father and sister good night, and shook hands with Robbie’s parents and Georgia.
Paul and Robbie waved as they drove away, collapsing against the wall of the bar as soon as their families were out of site.
“Holy moly, I didn’t think they’d ever leave,” Paul said with a sigh. “Jeez. Take a hint.”
“Seriously. Can we please go home now?”
“Oh, yes.”
They barely made it in the door before Paul had Robbie pressed up against the wall. “Talk tomorrow, right?”
Robbie nodded and pulled Paul against him, picking up where they’d left off in the closet. In between kissing and groping, they managed to kick their shoes off, and get their pants unbuckled.
Robbie dropped to his knees in front of Paul. Paul groaned as Robbie’s breath blew over his cock. He reached for the hem of his jersey but Robbie stopped him. “Keep it on. I think it’s hot,” he said with a wicked grin.
“Only if keep yours on, too.”
“Deal,” he said, and then took Paul’s cock into his mouth down to the root.
Paul had plans. There were things he wanted to do, but there was no way he could hold up under the onslaught of Robbie’s mouth. He grabbed onto Robbie’s head, burying his fingers in his hair.
Robbie pulled off slowly, obscenely. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked up at Paul. “Do it. Come on. Fuck my mouth.”
Paul didn’t have to be asked twice. Bracing his shoulders against the wall, he thrust his cock down Robbie’s throat. Moaning, panting, and cursing, he slammed in. The wet gagging noises had him slowing down and pulling back, but Robbie’s fingernails dug into his ass, shoving him forward.
It didn’t take more than a handful of thrusts before he was coming straight down Robbie’s throat, bent down over him, hands dug into Robbie’s shoulder for balance.
Struggling for breath, he almost slid down the wall, but Robbie’s hand on his chest stopped him. Hand tangled in his shirt, Robbie dragged Paul over to the futon.
“You just want me to keep the shirt on so you can manhandle me with it,” Paul groaned as his butt hit the futon. The years hadn’t been kind to the old mattress. It was harder than it had been two years ago.
“I want you to keep the shirt on so I can fuck you in it.”
They’d done everything but that. He didn’t know why. Having Robbie’s cock in him shouldn’t be any different than Robbie’s fingers or, sweet Jesus, his tongue. But it was. Maybe it just seemed too real, too intense. Like as long as he was the one getting fucked, he could still maintain some plausible deniability.
But he didn’t want that anymore. He’d claimed Robbie on national television. Now he needed Robbie to claim him here, to make it real. He needed Robbie to know how he felt about him, how much he loved him.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He reached out for Robbie’s cock that was right at eye level, and stroked it. Robbie was as hard as a rock, and Paul wanted to taste it so badly, his mouth watered at the thought. But he wanted it in him more. “C’mon, fuck me.”
Robbie was on him in a second, hand flailing to the floor to reach the lube they’d learned to keep stashed under the futon. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He kissed all the oxygen out of Paul’s lungs, kissed him and
rubbed against him until Paul was dizzy with it, and begging for Robbie to fuck him.
Robbie sat up between Paul’s legs, just as breathless as he. “God, Paul. Fuck. So good, so gorgeous.” He fumbled the lube, fumbled the cap, and squeezed way too much out onto his hands. He slicked his hand up between Paul’s ass cheeks, fingers dragging across his opening.
Paul whined deep in his throat and shifted his legs wider. “C’mon, Robbie. Do it.”
Robbie wrapped his other hand almost too tightly around Paul’s still-sensitive cock and slid one lubed finger into him.
Fuck that felt good. He cursed and pushed up into Robbie’s fist, then slammed back down onto his finger, pushing it deeper. “Oh God, so good.
Robbie’s brows drew together as he watched Paul’s reaction to his every move. By the time they’d worked up to three fingers, Paul had his hands wrapped around his own thighs, holding himself open and his cock was at full strength again.
Robbie couldn’t seem to stop rubbing his iron rod of a cock Paul’s hip.
“Jesus Christ, Robbie. For the love of God, fuck me already.” He grabbed at Robbie’s hip, trying to pull him closer.
“Okay, okay, okay.” Robbie’s hand trembled as he grabbed himself and pushed into Paul for the first time.
Oh, it was so much thicker and harder and better than his fingers. So much better. Paul’s mouth dropped open and he panted for breath as Robbie forced himself slowly but inexorably against the resistance in Paul’s body.
Paul rolled and rocked his hips, pushing himself onto Robbie’s cock. “Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes,” he chanted as the feeling went on forever until Robbie was flush against him.
Robbie braced himself over Paul with a hand on either side of his body. Paul was almost bent in half, legs wrapped around Robbie’s waist.
He was right to be afraid of this. Afraid of the intimacy. He wondered how women do it so easily. How they let someone in over and over. He could never be that brave. He couldn’t imagine ever letting anyone besides Robbie being in him. Couldn’t imagine ever wanting to let Robbie leave.
Robbie’s arms tremble. He looked like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Paul,” he says, voice strangled. “So perfect. You’re so perfect.”
“Move, please. Please,” was all Paul could say in return.
So Robbie moved. He pulled out, then slid back in so slowly and so perfectly, Paul’s eyes rolled back in his head. Robbie fucked him as deeply and as perfectly as Paul knew he would. Time lost all meaning. It was just him and Robbie and the way they felt.
Whenever Paul had pictured this, and he’d pictured it many, many times, he’d imagined all kinds of filth falling from Robbie’s gorgeous mouth. Imagined he would be moaning and groaning. But they were both so quiet. There was just their breathing and the slap of skin on skin.
Paul focused all his attention on Robbie. On the way it felt to have Robbie all around him, inside and out. He wanted it to last forever but they were both getting close to the edge.
Robbie’s thrusts grew harder and more erratic. He pulled up onto his knees, pushing Paul’s thighs back and lifting his hips up off the bed. He slammed against Paul’s prostate over and over.
Paul moaned non-stop. He couldn’t help it; it felt so fucking good. His cock ached, but he couldn’t do anything but clench the sheets and curse.
“Paul. Fuck, Paul.” Robbie’s grip slipped up to Paul’s calves as he drove into him again and again. “Gonna come. God.” He thrust one more time and stilled.
Robbie pulsed inside of him, over and over, and Paul wanted to cry with how good it felt.
Still grunting out his orgasm, Robbie dropped one of Paul’s legs and wrapped his hand around Paul’s cock, pumping hard. “Come on, Paul. Come with me. I want to see it. Come on, come on,” he begged.
And Paul was just gone. “Robbie. Robbie,” he keened. “Jesus.” His cock jerked, shooting all over his chest and up to his chin.
They shudder and twitched together until Robbie’s arms gave out and he dropped down to his elbows, chest heaving against Paul’s, foreheads pressed together.
When their breathing finally slowed down, Robbie pushed up with a groan and pulled his now-disgusting jersey over his head and threw it on the floor. Then he helped Paul get his off.
“That was incredible,” Robbie said. “Are you okay? Was it okay for you?”
Paul was too tired to laugh. He’d just had two orgasm almost back to back. “Yeah,” he said. “It was okay. We should probably do it a million more times, just to be sure.”
“Maybe not tonight,” Robbie said.
“Maybe not.” Paul stretched luxuriously. “But fuck I feel good.”
Robbie slapped him with an open hand on his stomach, the sound loud in the room. “Okay, princess. Get up. Shower, then bed.”
Paul’s eyes were already closed. “No. I’m good here.” He groaned as Robbie pushed him off the futon. “You suck,” he said as he hit the floor with a thud. “That’s boyfriend abuse.”
Robbie rolled off the futon and landed on top of him. He bit Paul hard on the shoulder. “I’ll show you boyfriend abuse.”
“Tomorrow,” Paul said. “After the game.”
“Deal.”
They picked themselves up and made their way to the bathroom. Settling for a quick wipe down instead of a shower, they stumbled to bed.
Robbie pulled Paul into him, cradling Paul’s head on his chest. “Thank you for doing that today.”
“Letting you fuck me? If you’re nice, I’ll let you do it a lot more often.”
“Shut up. I mean it.”
“I know.” Paul kissed Robbie’s chest. “But I was serious. I didn’t do it only for you. I did it for myself. I told my father—and I meant it—I told him that I was happier being out to myself and without you, than I had ever been when I was hiding who I was.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. You’re going to have to tell me everything you and your dad said. I am just blown away. I never expected any of this.”
“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. It was incredible. He was incredible.” Paul wrapped his arm around Robbie. “I know it’s not going to be easy all the time, but I don’t have a single regret. I love you, and I want everyone to know. If I can help even one kid like me. I can make them see that they don’t have to pick parts of themselves to hide, then it’s worth it, right? Worth all the crap I know we’re going to get?”
“Absolutely. You were so brave today. So much braver than I was. Think of all those kids like you in some church or somewhere, who’ve been told their whole lives that they’re bad and wrong. Now they have you, not me. Not some atheist kid with college professor parents, but someone raised just like them, saying they’re not. That they’re okay the way they are. It’s incredible.”
Paul thought about how different his life might have been if he’d had someone to look up to. Someone to help him figure it all out. It might have been different, might have even been better. But then he might not have ended up here with this man and he couldn’t imagine any better place to be.
“You’re stuck with me, you know.”
“Am I?” Robbie asked, his fingers drawing lazy circles on Paul’s back.
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I stuck tighter’n a tick to you.”
“Oh, yeah, Forest Gump? Do you reckon?” He smiled.
“I’m serious as a heart attack,” Paul said with a straight face. “I done tolt you fifty-leven times that I love your sorry ass. Now you know I’m fixin’ to stay with you until you kick me out.”
Robbie bust out laughing, and Paul couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“I reckon I like the sound of that, too,” Robbie said, when they had stopped laughing. “I think I’ll keep you.”
“Hmm,” Paul answered, half-asleep. “That’s good, because I got plans for you.”
“Bring it on, country boy,” Robbie
said. “Bring it on.”
SKATER BOY
Copyright © 2018 by A E Wasp
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
To my parents for showing me how it’s done. To my kids, for forgiving me all the times I screwed it up. To Kurt, for being a great partner in raising these amazing kids.
Acknowledgments
As usual, there was an army of people with me as I wrote this book.
Skater Boy would not be half the book it is if it weren’t for the endless patiences of May Archer. She spend hours on the phone with me exploring Alex’s personality, talking about babies, and hammering out the plot.
Courtney Basset went over and above the call of duty in her editing. Despite innumerable delays and end of year holidays, she gave generously of her time, humor, and talented.
As deadlines loomed, it was all hands on deck. My kids Maya and Zoe were pressed into service, going so far as to helping me write. The teething song Alex sings was written by Maya.
Aly Hayden was a never-ending source of support and encouragement. She put up with far more than her share of whining from me.
Shanna Henk’s lightning-quick, eagle-eyed editing saved the day more than once.
Thank you all.
When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you're not here, I can't go to sleep.
Praise God for these two insomnias!
And the difference between them.
Rumi
1
Alex
From somewhere deep in the condo, otherworldly howls and shrieks rang out over the screaming guitars and growling vocals of Dee Snider urging all the faithful to come and adore the baby Jesus.
