by K. C. Wells
“A couple of times when I was younger. The city seemed enormous.”
“It is. But there are some fantastic places to see. You like art, don’t you? How about a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art?”
Robin’s eyes sparkled. “I’d love that.”
Another idea occurred to him. “Can you ice skate? There’s the rink at Rockefeller Center.”
“I’ve never done that.” Robin’s lips twitched. “Honestly.”
Dean had to smile at that. “Then we’ll do that. I’ll find us a hotel. Maybe Adrian can recommend a place. He lives there now. We’ll make a weekend of it.”
Robin nodded eagerly. “Sounds like an adventure.”
It occurred to Dean that he wanted to spend time with Robin as much as Robin wanted to spend time with him.
A car pulled up outside, and Dean went to the door. “That’ll be Kris.” When he opened it, Kris launched himself into Dean’s arms.
“God, I’m such a mess.” Then Kris stiffened as he looked over Dean’s shoulder, and he quickly disentangled himself. “Oh. We’re not alone. My bad. I should have asked, shouldn’t I?”
Dean gestured to Robin. “This is my friend, Robin. He’s going to make my new canoe.” Robin’s eyes shone, and Dean loved the sight.
“I’d better go,” Robin said. “Can… can we do this again?”
Dean grinned. “Are we talking ski instruction, or lunch?”
Robin laughed. “Lunch. And maybe some more skiing—without the instruction, this time.” He grinned. “You never know. I might show you a thing or two.”
Dean chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.” He grabbed Robin’s coat from the hook by the door and handed it to him. Robin got into his boots, fastened them, and with a nod toward Kris, he left. Dean watched him wheel his bike down the path toward the sidewalk.
“He’s cute.”
Dean turned to Kris. “And you’re a mess, apparently. Want to tell me why?”
Kris nodded. “Only, can we do it by the fire? I’m freezing my nuts off here.”
“Sure.” Dean glanced down. “Once you’ve taken your boots off.” As he closed the door, he recalled that some people didn’t need telling.
Then it occurred to him he was sorry Robin had gone.
“Is there a reason for this meet-up?” Diane asked as Dean passed her a martini. “Not that I’m complaining, you understand. Hell, we could be here to raise a glass to it being December first for all I care.”
“Maybe it’s because Dean changed the kitty’s name.” Suze’s eyes twinkled. “Hey, you could give him a new name every week, and we could come over to celebrate. I’d be up for that.” She stroked the fluffball curled up in her lap.
Dean gave a nod to Kris. “Over to you.” He poured himself a drink but didn’t sit. Kris had asked for the girls to come over, and Dean had agreed. Kris needed a little moral support right then.
“I need your advice, guys,” Kris confessed. “My mom called yesterday. My dad has had a stroke, and he’s in the hospital. She… she wants me to visit.”
Kate frowned. “Are these the same parents who kicked you out on your ass when you were seventeen? Who haven’t given a flying fuck about you all these years? And now they want to play happy families?” She scowled. “The nerve of some people.”
“I know all that,” Kris remonstrated, twisting his hands in his lap, his cocktail on the table beside him. “She thinks he hasn’t got long to live, and she says he wants to see me before it’s too late.”
“Well, that all depends on what he wants to see you for.” Suze’s face was hard. “Because if all you’re going there for is for him to launch into some deathbed lecture to stick the knife in again, I’d say fuck it, and let him die without giving him the satisfaction.”
“Wait a minute.” Diane’s voice was soft. “What if he’s had some kind of revelation? What if he’s realized he’s been an asshole all these years, and he wants to make things right before he goes?” She looked Kris in the eye. “It’s up to you, sweetheart, but you need to ask yourself one thing. Do you want to let him go, never knowing if he’s changed his mind about you? This might be what you need to heal and move on.”
Dean said nothing. He’d said pretty much the same as Diane the day before, but he could understand where Kate and Suze were coming from. It really was up to Kris now.
Kris sighed. “I guess you’re right. I was in such a panic yesterday. I’ll be honest, my first reaction was to say fuck him. But then I talked to Dean. I needed to hear from you guys too.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll sort out a flight tomorrow, and I’ll get to him as soon as I can. I’ll call my mom tonight when I get home, so she knows to expect me.”
Dean walked over and squeezed Kris’s shoulder. “Does that feel better?”
Kris nodded. “Thank you. All of you.” Lady chose that moment to stretch and wander over to him, gazing expectantly at his lap. Kris laughed. “You too, Lady, but you’re not getting up here.” He patted the empty seat of the sofa next to him. “This is reserved for Dean, who is going to sit and tell us all about the cutie I saw here yesterday.” He stared up at Dean. “The one with the huge crush on you.”
Kate leaned forward, glass in hand, her eyes wide. “Oh, tell us more.”
Dean arched his eyebrows. “Crush?” What the fuck is he talking about?
Kris rolled his eyes. “Oh please. It was so obvious.”
Suze frowned. “Who are we talking about? What cutie?” She gave Dean a hard stare. “Have you been holding out on us?
“His name’s Robin,” Kris supplied. “Dean didn’t say any more than that. All I can tell you is he was so pretty. Those eyes…” He brought his hand to his chest. “He caused my heart to flutter.” Then he grinned. “He caused something else to flutter too.”
Dean narrowed his gaze. “Down, boy.” He addressed Suze. “He was a student—not one of mine—and he now works at the boatyard with his dad. I met him this week when I went to order a new canoe.”
Suze’s face lit up. “Robin Davis?”
“That’s him. I gave him a skiing lesson.”
She snorted. “Of course you did. Is that what they’re calling it now?”
“What’s so funny?” Diane asked.
“Nothing, unless you’d seen Robin ski. He’s really good, but then again he should be. I think he’s been doing it since he was a kid.”
“And he asked you to teach him to ski?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, but—”
Kris laughed triumphantly. “See? I was right.”
Diane glared at him. “You? Hush.” She turned to Dean. “You? Talk.”
Dean told them everything, from meeting Robin, to him turning up at the house Thursday evening, the so-called skiing lesson, the conversation after, and lunch the previous day. When he was done, Diane glanced at Kris. “So what’s he like?” She gave him a mock glare. “Apart from his eyes. I think we already know about them.”
Kris grinned. “Hot. Put it this way. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”
Dean glared at him this time. “And you’ve obviously made up your mind that he’s gay, or maybe bi.”
Kris gave him a superior look. “Trust me, honey. He’s gay. You may not have seen the way he was looking at you, but I sure did.” He grinned. “He looked like he wanted to lick you from head to toe.”
“Ooh.” Suze grinned. “Kinky. I wish a guy would look at me like that. I could do with a good… licking.”
Kris cackled.
“How old is he?” Diane asked.
Before Dean could reply, Kris leaped in. “About twelve, judging by the look of him.”
“He’s eighteen!” Dean protested.
Kris arched his eyebrows. “How lucky for you.”
Suze chuckled. “He always did have a baby face. Gorgeous kid.”
Kate gave a satisfied nod. “And if this kid turns up again with another manufactured reason for being here? What will you do?”
“Apar
t from taking him to bed and fucking his brains out,” Kris murmured.
Dean gaped at them. “Did you all miss the part where I said he was a student?”
Suze shook her head. “Was a student, Dean. We got that part. And the part about you never actually teaching him.”
Kris nodded vigorously. “You know what all that adds up to?” He counted off on his fingers. “He’s legal. He’s freaking adorable. He’s obviously eager.” He stared at Dean. “What are you waiting for—a signed invitation?”
“Now hold on a minute,” Diane interjected. “I think we’re all missing something here. So what if this Robin—is that his name?—is cute, hot, whatever. What do you think about him, Dean?”
Dean took a long drink from his glass. “I think… it’s time to change the subject.” He narrowed his gaze. “I mean it.” He did not want to discuss this with them. He was having a big enough challenge contemplating the idea that Robin wanted him. Okay, if it were true, the impromptu visit and subsequent request made sense—kind of—but Dean wasn’t convinced Kris wasn’t seeing things.
And if he was going to discuss this with anyone, it would be Robin.
Chapter Seven
Dean walked with his guests toward the front door. “Are we back to normal now? Because that means we won’t be meeting up until just before Christmas.” And by then the house would appear extremely festive, although not by Suze’s standards. Her idea of Christmas decorations was to turn her condo into a fairy grotto.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Kris grinned. “We may have to meet up before then, if only so we can get an update on what’s happening with your boy toy.”
“My—” Dean groaned. “Oh my God, that’s even worse than fag hag. Please, don’t.”
“Oh, come on,” Suze remonstrated. “You didn’t expect us to say nothing, did you?” She gave him an evil grin.
“Did you think you’d gotten away with it?” Kate demanded, looking equally gleeful.
“What I think is, not one of you has entertained the possibility that it could all be entirely innocent.” Dean glared at them. “Didn’t it occur to you that maybe Robin needs someone to talk to, someone he can relate to? Maybe what he really needs is a mentor.”
They all stood still for a moment, before Kris laughed his head off. “Nah, what he really needs is a good fucking.”
“Hey, if I’m old enough to be called a cougar, then you can have a boy toy,” Diane said with a grin.
Dean was sure his eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline. “You’re not—”
“No, I’m not—but I could be if I wanted to.” Her eyes twinkled. She shook her head. “Mentor. I’m pretty certain that’s a euphemism for something.”
Kris nodded. “The older man, teaching the younger man the ways of—”
“Oh my God,” Dean interjected. “I’ve become a cliché.” When his friends laughed, he pointed to the front door. “Out. All of you.” It would have come out better if he hadn’t been trying so hard not to laugh.
Suze pouted. “But you still haven’t told us what you think about Robin.” Her eyes gleamed. “Anyone would think you were hiding something.”
Dean groaned. “Okay, okay. He’s gorgeous, all right? He’s got a sexy-as-fuck body, and no, don’t ask me what I want to do to him, because I won’t tell you.”
“But you do want him,” Diane declared.
Dean gave up. “Yes, of course I want him. I’d be insane not to. And if I thought he’d be remotely interested in a guy my age, I’d pursue that idea, but it’s not gonna happen. Now out.”
“Say hi to Robin for us,” Kris sang as he walked away from the house. “Have fun when you see him next.”
“And tell us all about it,” Kate added.
“Not listening,” Dean yelled as they reached the end of the path. He watched them as they got into their cars and drove away, then closed the door and locked it. He should have known they’d tease him about the age gap.
But am I going to do anything about it?
For all his confession that he was attracted to Robin, Dean knew he wouldn’t make a move on him. Not unless it became obvious Robin wanted that. But there was still the mystery of why Robin had lied about not being able to ski.
Were his friends correct? Was it all part of some ploy because Robin had a crush on him?
There was only one way to find out—talk to Robin.
Robin went into the bathroom to get a glass of water. As he approached his bedroom the sounds from the TV died. Then he caught his name, and strained to listen.
“There must be someone he knows from school. Maybe a boy he hasn’t even considered.” That was his dad. “He can’t be the only gay kid in Lake Placid.”
“Maybe he’s picky,” Mom suggested.
Dad chuckled. “Yeah. Like his mom.”
“Hey!”
Robin had heard enough. He crept into his room and closed the door as silently as possible. He got into bed and lay back against the pillows, his mind turning over his parents’ conversation. He didn’t mind them discussing him like that—he’d figured they would—but what struck him most was his dad’s choice of words.
A boy.
There was only one thing wrong with that. Robin didn’t want a boy. He wanted a man.
I want someone with a little experience.
And hadn’t that been why Ryan had come up with the whole ski instruction scenario? In hindsight Robin could admit how uncomfortable the situation had made him. He’d hated lying to Dean like that. Maybe I needed to come right out with it, and say why I was there. What I want.
Except the thought of getting what he wanted sent dual shivers of desire and terror skittering down his spine, and icy tingles spreading over his skin.
Do I dare? Will Dean say yes?
There was only one way to find out.
From beyond his bedroom door came the usual noises that told Robin his parents were going to bed. Problem was, he wasn’t sleepy.
I could always jerk off. That normally sent him off to sleep minutes after he’d come. He closed his eyes and pictured Dean in his tight jeans and tank top. Fantasy Dean’s crotch was pretty impressive, and not for the first time, Robin wondered what his dick looked like. Is he cut? Is it long? Thick? It was inevitable that such thoughts led to two vital questions.
Would it fit?
Fuck. How would it feel inside me?
Maybe it was time to find that out too.
Robin reached over and opened the nightstand drawer as quietly as he could. It would have made more sense to wait until he was certain his parents were asleep, but he was almost buzzing with the need to discover this new sensation. He removed the bottle of hand lotion, and set it on top of the nightstand. Then he reached under the comforter to take off his briefs. Upon reflection, he pushed the comforter back, and leaned against the padded headboard, his legs spread wide. A squeeze of hand lotion into his palm, and he was ready.
Robin stroked his dick, coating it with the lotion, not forgetting to rub over his balls too. He slid his hand lower, shivering as his fingers came into contact with his hole. There’s no rush. Take your time. He played with his cock, working its length until the shaft was rigid. Of course, by then he needed more lotion, because damn, it soaked in way too fast.
The first problem was one of logistics, namely, how to get his finger up his ass. In the end, he had one heel digging into his ass, while he drew up the other, the ball of his foot pressing into the mattress as he tried to raise his ass higher. He slid one hand down the front of his body, through the crease of his thigh, but it felt awkward. Then he tried with the other hand with a different approach, coming from behind, sliding his hand under his leg. It still wasn’t right.
In the end, Robin drew his knees up, spread his legs, and balanced on the balls of his feet, tilting his ass a little. More hand lotion, his hole exposed—now he was really ready.
He rubbed slick fingers over his hole, and his cock reacted with a jerk. He held it w
ith his left hand, while he slowly pressed the index finger of his right into his tight, warm hole.
Oh God. He pushed it as deep as he could, wincing a little at the burn. After squeezing more lotion onto his finger, he tried it again, and this time it was better. When he’d gotten as far as the knuckle, he tried it with his middle finger, only now he was sliding it in and out, and fuck, it felt incredible. He alternated between the two fingers, his body writhing as intense pleasure washed over him.
Ryan has no idea what he’s missing out on.
The thought brought a smile, but then he pushed it aside, because thinking of Ryan while he was doing this? Ew. Another application of lotion, this time to his thumb, and then he pushed it deep, the pad facing forward. As it connected with his prostate, Robin shuddered. Oh fuck. He did it again, and again, and soon he was riding his thumb, rocking his ass, chasing the sensations, wanting more, more… His toes started to ache, so he planted his feet flat to the mattress, pushing into it as he lifted himself up and down, his thumb sliding in and out of him, his other hand gently stroking his shaft.
It was all too much and over way too fast. He stifled a groan as his rigid cock pulsed cum, spurting into the air and landing on his thigh, trickling down his dick and over his sac while he shuddered through it all, his body trembling, his legs most of all. When the shocks had ebbed away, Robin sagged against the headboard.
Holy fuck. And that was just my fingers.
He cleaned up with tissues, and stowed the lotion away in the drawer. Not that there seemed any point in hiding it now. Robin pulled the comforter up over his body, warm and sated from his orgasm. His last act before switching off his bedside lamp was to glance around his bedroom.
What have I got in here that I can use instead of fingers?
Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and walked into the living room, intending to see if there was anything worth watching on TV. Monday had seemed longer than usual, and what he really needed was to turn off his brain and watch something mindless and fun that wouldn’t tax him in the slightest. As he picked up the remote, a flash of light outside caught his eye and he walked out of the window.
