by K. C. Wells
Robin had almost finished his breakfast when his phone buzzed on the table next to his plate.
Dad chuckled. “Someone’s popular. It’s only eight o’clock.”
“It’s probably Ryan,” Mom commented. “Say hi for us.”
“’Kay.” Warmth barreled through him when he saw it was a text from Dean. Robin picked up his phone and opened the message.
I still haven’t put up Santa and his reindeer. If you want to come over, you could help me blow him up. We might find something else to blow too.
Okay, Robin was pretty sure his cheeks were bright red.
“Earth calling Robin.”
He glanced up to find his dad regarding him with obvious amusement. “Huh?”
“Where did you go to?”
Robin frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You were lost in your own little world just now.” Dad’s eyes twinkled. “That must be a really interesting text.”
“It’s from Ben.” The lie sped up his heartbeat. “He’s wondering what I’m doing now.”
Dad helped himself to more coffee. “He could always come here, you know. You don’t have to go to his place. And I’m pretty sure a PlayStation is mobile.”
Mom cleared her throat. “Maybe Robin doesn’t want to be around us. He spends all week with you. He doesn’t have to spend the weekend with you too.”
Robin’s chest tightened and his stomach roiled. “I’ll stay home.”
To his surprise, Dad frowned. “No, you go out. Your mom is right. You work hard all week, you did your chores yesterday… You deserve some downtime.”
“Are you sure?”
Dad nodded. “Hey, if I’m allowed to relax on the weekend, so are you.” He smirked. “Only, you can clear the table first.” When Robin lurched to his feet and started piling up the dishes, Dad laughed. “You might wait till I finished though.”
“I thought you’d want that last piece of toast,” Mom added.
Slow it down. Act natural.
Yeah right.
Half an hour later, he was walking his bike up Dean’s front path. Dean opened the front door with a grin. “Wow. It seems like ages since you were here.”
Robin rolled his eyes. “Please, tell me you’ve got something for blowing up Santa. I don’t think I’ve got that much breath.”
Dean laughed. “I have a compressor. Save your breath for more important tasks.”
It didn’t take a genius to work out what that meant. Not that Robin was about to complain.
He followed Dean into the house where a large box sat in the hallway. Dean pointed to it. “Santa is in there. The first thing we’d better do is check there are no holes in him. Not that I think there are mice in my garage, nibbling away at him.” He glanced quizzically at Robin. “Where are you today? Ben’s again?”
There was that tightness again in his chest. “I didn’t actually say as much, but yeah, I let them think that.”
Dean’s eyes were warm. “Something’s wrong.”
“I feel guilty, is all. I hate lying to them.”
Dean walked up to him and laid his hands on Robin’s shoulders. “Do you want to stop coming here? Because soon, we’ll get a whole weekend together.”
Robin’s heart sank. “I don’t want to stay away,” he whispered.
Dean cradled Robin’s head in his hands. “I don’t want you to either. I loved spending yesterday with you. And I’m not only talking about having you in my bed.”
The memories of lying beneath the comforter with Dean had warmed Robin late into the night. “About that… Can we…?”
Dean stilled. “Can we what?”
Robin took a breath. “Can we go upstairs, get in bed… and snuggle? Just snuggle?”
Dean’s eyes sparkled. “Sure we can. And if we need to take another nap, so be it.” Then he smiled. “Only, we haven’t said hello properly yet.”
Robin was all for that. He stood on his tiptoes, cupped the back of Dean’s head, and pulled him down into a kiss that warmed him both inside and out. It didn’t take long for Dean to deepen the kiss, and Robin opened for him, wanting more.
God, I need this. It was more than kissing, more than feeling Dean’s gentle hands on his neck, his shoulders.
It was… reconnecting.
Dean broke the kiss, his breath quickening. “Remind me again. Why are you here?”
Robin grinned. “I thought I was here to blow something.”
Dean laughed. “I thought you wanted to snuggle.”
“Who says we can’t do both?” To Robin’s mind, it sounded like the perfect way to spend a Sunday morning. They’d get around to blowing up Santa eventually.
Maybe.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m gonna step outside for some air, Dad.” Robin made sure his phone was in his jeans pocket.
“Sure, because it’s so hot in here, right?” Dad’s eyes were bright with amusement. “Don’t be too long. I’m expecting a new delivery of timber, and I want you to check it over before we sign for it. After all, that’s what you’ll have to do when it’s your business.”
Robin nodded. “Sure.” He loved how his dad was giving him more responsibility. What he hated was that right then it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his mind on the job.
His head was full of Dean.
Of course, it had been that way since Sunday. So many memories filled his thoughts, each one better than the previous: decorating the tree; putting up the lights; wrestling a large inflatable Santa onto Dean’s front lawn; and squeezing him into the bright red sleigh with two inflatable reindeer lined up in front of it.
And then there were the more intimate memories. Robin kept playing that first encounter on a loop inside his head, recalling the feeling of Dean’s cock inside him, the awed way Dean had looked at him as Robin rode him, and the groans that had fallen from Dean’s lips as Robin worshipped Dean’s gorgeous dick with his mouth.
Robin was amazed he’d gotten any work done the last two days.
He stepped out into the cold and shivered, pulling his coat around him. He walked toward the pond at the back of the boatyard, got his phone from his pocket, and sent a text to Dean.
It’s lunchtime, right?
Seconds later, the phone rang. “Yeah, that much hasn’t changed since you were here. You taking a break?”
Robin pulled his coat even tighter. “Would it be really corny of me if I said I wanted to hear your voice?”
Dean’s voice was warm. “Not corny at all. Actually, I was going to call you tonight.”
Robin grinned. “One of those calls?”
A snort filled his ears. “Get your mind out of the gutter, dirty boy. I was wondering if you’d like to help me make cookies this weekend.”
Okay, he hadn’t expected that. “Really?”
“Hey, this is a big deal. I was going to make Christmas cookies for the teachers this Saturday. There’s a competition—well, not really a competition. Every year we make cookies for each other, but what it boils down to is whose cookies are the most popular.”
“And you thought I might be your secret weapon? How do you know if I’m any good at baking?”
“Oh, I’ll bake them,” Dean assured him. “Where you come in, is helping me decide how to decorate them. I thought that might be right up your street.”
That sounded like it could be a lot of fun. “I might be up for that.”
“I also had another idea.”
Robin glanced toward the boatyard, making sure his dad was nowhere in sight. “Does it involve smearing cookie dough on my nipples and my dick, and you licking it off?” he whispered.
There was a pause. “You are a wicked man. I’m sitting here in my classroom with a hard-on. And that is plain wrong.”
Robin burst out laughing. “What was your idea?”
“Saturday morning, would you like to go skiing?” Another pause. “I thought it would be good for the pair of us to hit the slopes again. It wouldn’t be like the
last time.”
Robin considered the idea. There would be no subterfuge, no playacting, simply the two of them pitting themselves against the slopes, pushing each other, and enjoying the hell out of it. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”
“Excellent. So, a morning of skiing and an afternoon baking cookies. Sounds like a perfect day.”
Robin chuckled. “No, for it to be perfect, there’d have to be some naked time in there as well.” When Dean fell silent, he added, “Hey, you said I was to voice my needs, right? Well, this is me voicing them.”
“Did you forget the part where I said I’m in my classroom? I’m ending this call now.” He paused. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Okay.” It was time to go indoors anyway. Robin’s nuts were about to freeze. “Later.”
“I look forward to that.” In the background, a bell rang.
Robin grinned. “I’d stay behind your desk if I were you, when your students walk in.”
“You are evil personified.” Dean disconnected the call.
Robin was still chuckling to himself when he got back inside. He walked through the empty office and into the area where he worked on the boats. Dad was looking closely at the gunwale he’d been working on that morning.
“Hey. Is anything wrong?”
Dad glanced across at him. “I was only checking it.”
Robin stared at him. “You haven’t done that for a while.” Unease trickled through him.
“Yeah, well, up till now I haven’t needed to.” Dad straightened. “I don’t know where your head is right now, but I don’t think it’s on your work.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that gunwale,” Robin remonstrated.
“Apart from the fact that it’s taken you longer than usual to make it,” Dad fired back at him. He gazed intently Robin. “Is there something you want to talk about?”
Not with you. “Not really.” His stomach clenched.
Dad pushed out a heavy sigh. “You don’t think your old man can relate, is that it?”
“Excuse me?”
“I remember being your age, you know. It feels like your hormones won’t quit.”
Robin did not want to be having this conversation. “Dad…”
His dad waved a hand. “It’s okay, I get it. I wouldn’t have wanted to talk with my dad either about… you know. And it doesn’t matter that you’re gay. The process is still the same, right?”
“Process?” Robin felt like he wanted to throw up. Please tell me he’s not talking about sex. That would really have been a first.
“Being interested in someone, being attracted, those first steps…”
Robin was almost giddy with relief. “Oh. Yeah. Right.” If only you knew, Dad.
“I just want you to know… If you do need to talk, I’m here for you.”
Robin forced a smile. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” Not that he had any intention of discussing anything to do with Dean with his dad.
“Then I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll give you a shout when the timber delivery gets here.” Dad disappeared into the office.
Robin pulled his phone from his pocket, until he remembered Dean had a class. There was no way he was going to make it to Saturday without seeing Dean. He composed a text.
Can I come over tonight?
He didn’t expect a reply. He’d have to wait until school was out for that.
Robin suspected his day was going to crawl by.
Robin had a feeling he’d broken his personal best for the fastest shower ever, except he’d taken longer than usual to make sure certain parts were really clean. Not that he was visiting Dean with the express purpose of sex, but hey, being prepared was never a bad thing, right?
Mom arched her eyebrows when he appeared at the dinner table. “Someone looks smart. Going someplace?”
Robin glanced at his black jeans and cream sweater. He hadn’t thought he’d gone to all that much trouble. “Yeah, I thought I’d go out for a while.” He overrode the temptation to tell her he was going to Ben’s. Robin had a feeling no good would come of repeating the lie too often, and he couldn’t account for it. His mom wouldn’t know who Ben was even if he rode his bike over her foot.
Mom nodded, and Robin held his breath, waiting for the inevitable question. When it didn’t come, he heaved an internal sigh of relief, and proceeded to eat his chicken and dumplings. Dad had the TV on and was watching the news while he ate, despite Mom muttering about setting a bad example. Robin was happy not to be the focus of attention.
The meal over, he cleared away the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher without being asked. Then he kissed his mom’s cheek, grabbed his boots and coat, and got out of the house as fast as he could. He pedaled through the snowy streets, taking extra care where he knew there were potholes. The last thing he wanted was to come off his bike and break something.
Dean’s decorations looked wonderful. Blue icicle lights hung above the second-floor windows, and Santa’s sleigh was now festooned with strings of colorful lights. The sight filled him with joy, and he gazed at Santa’s rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes.
You did good, Santa.
Dean had to be the best Christmas present.
Robin leaned his bike against the house, and then rang the doorbell. Seconds later, Dean opened the door, and Robin fought hard not to stare.
“Wow. You look good.” Dean wore a dark blue suit, with a white shirt and deep red tie. “I don’t ever remember seeing you dressed like this in school.” Robin’s drool would have decorated the hallway.
Dean laughed. “As if. I had a meeting. I’ve only just walked in myself. Have you eaten?” He stood aside for Robin to enter.
“Yes, thank you.” Robin took off his boots, and before he’d had chance to hang up his coat, Loki was there, charging at him like a little furry cannonball. “Hey, trouble!” Robin picked him up and stroked him, while Loki batted at his neck. “Claws in, kitty!”
“I think he missed you. And yes, those claws may be tiny but they’re sharp. You should see my calves.” Dean looked him up and down. “Black and cream is a good combo for you.” He headed for the kitchen. “You don’t mind if I eat, do you? I’m starving. Plus, I need to grab a shower.”
Robin had a brainwave. “Hey. Go take your shower. I’ll make you some dinner.”
Dean paused at the kitchen door, his eyebrows quirked. “You’re going to cook for me?”
Robin chuckled. “No, but I can heat up the mac and cheese I know you’ve got in the freezer.”
“That sounds perfect.” Dean walked over to him. “I think we’ve forgotten something,” he said with a smile.
Robin knew what was coming and hastily put Loki down. His pulse quickened as Dean cupped his cheek and kissed him softly on the lips.
Dean could’ve kissed Robin all day long and Robin would’ve never tired of it.
The intimate moment was ruined when Dean’s stomach gave a loud gurgle, and Dean flushed. Robin laughed. “Go shower. By the time you’re dry, I’ll have food waiting for you.”
Dean kissed him again. “I could get used to this.” Then he headed for the stairs.
Robin let out a happy sigh. “So could I,” he murmured. Upstairs, Dean was singing to himself. Robin glanced at Loki. “Your daddy is gorgeous, do you know that?” And judging by the sounds that drifted down the stairs, he could hold a tune too.
Robin went into the kitchen and set about heating up Dean’s dinner. Thank God for microwave ovens. While the covered dish revolved, Robin set a place at the kitchen table. He glanced around the neat kitchen for napkins to give the setting a special touch, and when he spied a box of candles on top of a cabinet, he grinned.
By the time he heard the water shut off above his head, he was ready. A deep red paper napkin was folded neatly beside the silverware. The opened bottle of white wine in the refrigerator stood on the table, along with a wine glass. The centerpiece was an empty blue glass bottle, with a candle stuck in its neck.
Perfect. Well, as perfect as Robin could make it.
“Oh my.” Dean stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweater. “This looks amazing.”
Robin glanced down, and quickly jerked his head up. Did he have to go commando? There was no missing Dean’s long dick that tented the soft grey fabric.
“Does that look good too?” Dean’s eyes twinkled.
Aw, crap. Busted.
The microwave pinged, and Robin cleared his throat. “Sit. I’ll dish it up.” Anything to avoid staring at Dean’s crotch. And now he was positive Dean had gone commando on purpose.
Not that Robin was complaining—he just hated getting caught in the act of ogling.
Dean surveyed the table as he sat. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said quietly. He met Robin’s gaze. “And I love it.”
Okay, that look right there was worth the indigestion he’d suffered through wolfing down his dinner in a hurry to see Dean.
Dean gestured to an empty chair. “Sit and talk to me while I eat. Tell me what you’ve been doing since I saw you last.”
That was easy. Thinking about you.
The movie was okay, not that Robin was concentrating all that hard. He was too busy relishing the feel of Dean’s hand on his thigh, gently stroking it. It was an intimate gesture, but not one carried out with any real intent: Dean’s focus was on the screen.
Robin would have been happy to sit like that all evening. Lady lay curled up in the armchair, Loki beside her. He had to smile at that. Maybe the little furball is growing on her.
Dean hit Pause. “Is this grabbing you at all?”
Robin smiled. “I’m enjoying being here with you.” He meant every word.
Dean studied him for a moment. “I’ve thought about you a lot these last couple of days.”
“Good thoughts, I hope.” The intense scrutiny made the muscles in Robin’s abs quiver, and deep in his belly, something fluttered. Talk about butterflies…
Dean’s slow smile sent a pang through Robin’s chest. “Very good,” Dean said at last. Then Robin shivered as Dean leaned over to kiss him, his hand rubbing Robin’s pecs. Robin cupped Dean’s nape, and tilted his head to give him better access. Dean slid his hands over Robin’s upper body as they kissed, and Robin couldn’t stop touching him, his breathing quickening with each light caress.
