by K. C. Wells
“Ooh. Have we touched a nerve?” Kris teased.
“Yes, you have.” Dean raked his fingers across his scalp. “Look, I’m glad you got to meet him, and I’m even more glad that you didn’t put him through the mill, because I want all of you to get along. Because if I get my way, he’s going to be around for a long time to come.” He took a breath, his chest tight.
Crickets.
Dean hadn’t intended spilling his guts, but they’d caught him on the raw.
Diane glanced around the table at the others before addressing him. “This isn’t just a fling, is it?”
Dean sank onto a chair. “Bless you, it’s so much more than that.”
Her face glowed. “Then I’m happy for you. He’s adorable.” She tilted her head to one side. “Does he feel the same about you?”
Dean wished he knew.
Maybe their weekend away would provide the perfect opportunity to find out.
Chapter Nineteen
“So, what do you think?” Dean dropped his bag by the sofa and removed his boots.
“Bathroom first.” Robin disappeared.
Dean chuckled. “When you gotta go…” He had to admit, it was a great hotel room, with a huge bed at one end, and a sofa and ottoman at the other. On a shelf above the refrigerator stood the coffee machine and a bowl of fruit. Those windows had to be triple-glazed, because the noise from the streets below was minimal. “Pretty cool,” he murmured as he took off his coat and draped it over the back of the couch.
The toilet flushed, water ran, and then Robin was back. “Did you say something?” He walked over to where Dean stood next to the couch.
“I said it was a pretty cool room.”
“Very cool.” Robin opened his bag. “You know what? I think we talked the entire trip.”
Dean chuckled. He’d learned more about Robin in seven hours than in the whole time they’d known each other. “You hungry?”
Robin straightened. “Starving. But food can wait.”
When he dropped a packet of condoms and a bottle of lube onto the ottoman, Dean got it. Robin was hungry for something else. “Been shopping?” Not that he hadn’t brought his own supplies. Great minds and all that.
“Uh-uh. I found these shoved in my bag this morning, with a note. ‘Have fun. This is way better than hand lotion.’”
Dean grinned. “Ryan.” Then he frowned. “Hand lotion?”
“Another time.” Robin shucked off his coat and slung it on top of Dean’s. He toed off his boots and shifted closer, his eyes focused on Dean. “I’m in a hotel room with a guy for the first time. I think talking is pretty low on the agenda.” His hands were warm on Dean’s nape. Robin was trembling. “Now why don’t you do what I’ve been dreaming about all week, and fuck me?”
Dean caught his breath. “No small talk, huh?” That was fine by him. Robin wasn’t the only one who was starving. And this new, bolder Robin was definitely pushing Dean’s buttons.
He grabbed Robin and kissed him, not bothering to rein it in. They were past that. Tongues came into play, and Robin’s responses ramped up Dean’s need. He walked Robin backward toward the wall, then shoved him against it. Robin’s eyes widened, and then his hands were everywhere, on Dean’s head, his neck, his back, moving constantly as the kiss deepened. Their breathing sounded harsh and loud in the quiet room.
“Fuck, I want you,” Dean murmured between kisses.
Robin’s eager fingers sought flesh beneath Dean’s sweater. “Then fucking take me.” It became a battle for who could get the other’s clothing off the fastest, both of them laughing as bare chests were revealed and clothing went sailing through the air. Dean loved the hitch in Robin’s breathing as he popped the button free on Robin’s jeans, then lowered the zipper. But the gasp that fell from Robin’s lips as Dean slid his hand down the back of his jeans was sheer music.
Dean insinuated a finger between Robin’s ass cheeks, and rubbed over his hole. “Tell me what you want.”
Robin swallowed. “You in my ass.”
“How? How do you want it?” Two could play at being demanding, and Dean yearned to see how vociferous Robin was prepared to be.
“Hard. Want to feel it.” Robin grabbed Dean’s head, barely an inch separating their lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Don’t want you to hold back.”
Dean grinned. “Oh, I think we’re past that now.” Another slow rub over that tight little pucker, and Robin was squirming. Dean pushed Robin’s jeans over his hips, freeing his already rigid dick. Dean stroked it, bouncing it on his palm, feeling its impact. He worked its length, loving Robin’s moans, the way he pushed his cock through Dean’s hand.
Dean couldn’t wait any longer.
He dropped to his knees and swallowed Robin’s dick to the root, his nose buried in Robin’s scant pubes. Robin groaned. “Fuck.” He put his hands flat to the wall behind him and thrust deep, hips rocking.
Dean pulled free. “Love your cock.”
Robin gazed down at him, shuddering. “Love what you do with it,” he whispered.
Dean resumed sucking, reaching up to stroke Robin’s smooth body. One brush of his fingertips over Robin’s nipple, and Robin shivered. He grabbed his dick around the base. “Here. I’ll hold it for you, while you get your cock ready for me.”
Dean sat back on his haunches and unfastened his jeans. He reached into his briefs and freed his solid dick. “Way ahead of you.” Robin demanding to be fucked had been all the incentive his shaft had needed to get in on the act.
Robin licked his lips. “Want that.” He hurriedly removed his jeans, glancing down at Dean’s. “Get them off.”
“Do you know how sexy you are when you’re bossy in the bedroom?” Dean stood and took off his jeans and socks. “So where do you want this? Bed?”
Robin pointed. “Couch.” He grabbed Dean’s hand and tugged him over to it, pushing him down onto the cream fabric, then kneeling between Dean’s spread thighs.
Dean pulled Robin into his arms and kissed him, his fingers buried in Robin’s soft hair. Then he grabbed hold of it and gave Robin a not-so-gentle shove toward his crotch.
Robin took the hint. He licked and sucked Dean’s shaft, until it glistened with his spit. Dean moaned, thrusting as far as he dared, holding onto Robin’s hair to keep him still while Dean fucked that gorgeous mouth. Robin locked gazes with him, and Dean’s heart almost stopped.
“Wait.”
Robin pulled free. “What is it?”
Dean sat up, cradling Robin’s face in his hands. He looked into those beautiful warm brown eyes, studying the face he’d come to love. Robin’s breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling as he met Dean’s gaze head on.
“Dean?” Robin gulped. “Need you.”
Fuck, Dean needed him too. He nodded toward the condoms. “Then get me ready.”
Robin’s fingers trembled as he unrolled the latex down Dean’s solid shaft. Dean squeezed lube onto it, then pointed to the ottoman. “Hands and knees.”
Robin’s pupils dilated. “Oh fuck.”
Dean nodded slowly. “Hands and knees,” he repeated. When Robin did as instructed, Dean admired the view. That smooth, round ass and tight little hole were crying out to be fucked. Then he got a whiff of… lemon?
The visit to the bathroom made more sense.
Robin twisted around to stare at him. “Dean. Come on.” He swallowed. “I need you.”
Dean wasn’t about to leave Robin hanging.
He slid a slick finger into Robin’s ass, moaning at the sensation. “Fuck, you feel so good inside.” Robin pushed back, and Dean got the message. He added another finger, making sure to stretch Robin’s hole. Robin squirmed, apparently unable to keep still, and Dean had to be in there. He stood behind Robin, his hands on Robin’s hips, aimed his dick at Robin’s hole, and pushed.
They used every inch of the ottoman and the couch, Dean fucking him doggy style, then with Robin sitting on his cock, facing the bed as Dean thrust up into him and Ro
bin bounced on his dick. A change of direction and pace as Robin rode him, their gazes locked, Robin’s arms resting on his shoulders while they kissed, slow and sensual, Dean’s hands on his lower back and ass, stroking him. And through it all, Robin kept up a litany of sighs and murmurs, leaving Dean in no doubt as to how he wanted to be fucked. His demands of “harder” sent heat barreling through Dean, until his need was white-hot.
He pulled Robin down onto his shaft and held him there while they kissed. Dean took Robin’s face between his hands. “Hold onto me, okay?” Then he slid his hands under Robin’s ass.
Robin locked his arms around Dean’s neck and held on as Dean carefully got to his feet, his dick sliding free as Dean carried him to the bed, Robin clinging to him like a monkey. He lowered Robin onto the bed, then pushed his legs toward his chest.
“Yes,” Robin said, his breath leaving him in short bursts.
Dean aimed and pushed, and once again his dick was all the way inside Robin’s ass. He lifted Robin’s legs and placed them on his shoulders, leaning over him, his arms hooked under Robin’s knees. Their foreheads met, and Robin groaned.
“Oh my God, you’re so deep,” Robin moaned against his lips. “Yeah, right there.” Dean moved unhurriedly at first, rolling his hips, stirring his cock inside Robin. Robin’s eyes widened. “Fuck, yeah. That feels so good.” Dean nodded, picking up the pace a little, and Robin gasped. “Oh God. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“No intention of stopping,” Dean ground out as he rocked into Robin’s body, reaching between them to work Robin’s dick. “Want to feel it when you come. Want to feel you tighten around my cock.”
Robin cried out as Dean slammed into him, flesh slapping against flesh, Dean’s hand slick on Robin’s shaft. “Kiss me?”
Dean claimed his mouth, tongues colliding as he drove into him, the feel of Robin’s body so fucking tight around his dick that it sent shudders through him. And when warmth creamed Dean’s fingers, joy surged through him. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
And I love you. The words were right there, but Dean wasn’t about to say them, not when they could be missed in the heat of passion. Dean wanted to say them when the moment was right. But he was going to say them.
The thought sent him over the edge, and Dean shot hard, shivering from the force of his orgasm. Robin wrapped his arms around Dean and held him, both of them a little breathless, no words needed. They exchanged soft kisses, and Dean pushed the hair back from Robin’s damp forehead, looking into his eyes.
Robin shuddered out a breath. “Wow. That was… different.”
“That was all you.” Dean stroked his cheek. And fuck, it had been a powerful experience. Then Robin’s stomach gurgled, and Dean laughed. “Okay, that’s one hunger dealt with. How about we deal with the other?”
“Do we have to go down to the restaurant?”
Dean chuckled. “No, baby. We can eat here. I’ll call room service.”
Robin sighed. “Does that mean we have to move?”
“Well, unless you want to shock the waiter when he delivers the food…”
That earned him another sigh. “Okay.”
Dean kissed the tip of his nose. “But I promise, as soon as he’s gone, we can get naked again.”
“And can we eat dinner in bed?”
Dean kissed him on the lips. “We can do whatever the fuck we want. This is our weekend, remember?”
And he intended to get the most out of every minute.
The Metropolitan Museum was a treasure-trove of fascinating artwork, and Robin could quite happily have spent a week there, rather than a few hours. Of course, they would have had more hours if Robin hadn’t decided to awake Dean with his mouth on Dean’s morning wood.
A slow morning fuck could fast become Robin’s favorite activity. Too bad we won’t get the chance again. Dean could always arrange another weekend away, but Robin wasn’t sure his parents would buy another dance production.
Waking up in Dean’s arms had been… wonderful.
“What do you think?” Dean’s question interrupted his sensual recollection.
Robin gazed at The Death of Socrates. “If someone gave me the choice of giving up my ideas or drinking hemlock that was gonna kill me, I don’t think I’d have gone for the hemlock. I mean, look at him. He’s on his deathbed and he’s obviously still talking. He’s not ready to go yet.” He grinned. “And is it really bad that in my head he’s So-Crates? You know, like in the Bill and Ted movie?”
“Yes, it is,” Dean said firmly. He leaned in. “Having a good time?”
“No—having an awesome time.” Robin couldn’t decide what had been his favorite artwork of the visit. He’d loved the paintings, and had found artists he’d never heard of, whose work needed a closer inspection. Caravaggio was one of them. But the sculpture had blown him away. The Sphinx of Hatshepsut and the human-headed winged lions were at the top of the list, but that statue of Venus… She seemed so human. The skill it must have taken to get the marble to appear so lifelike… He smiled as he recalled his remark to Dean, that she looked like someone had walked into her bathroom after she’d gotten out of the shower, and she was clutching her towel to her, saying something like ‘Will you get the fuck out of here?’
Dean had laughed his ass off at that.
All too soon, the visit came to an end. Robin hated this feeling that time was against them. He wanted to hold onto every precious second, because who knew how long it would be before they’d get the chance again? But Dean wanted to visit the Rockefeller Center before the show that evening, and Robin knew what that meant—ice skating.
“How come you’ve never done this before?” Dean asked in the taxi on their way to Rockefeller Plaza. “Lake Placid has a couple of ice rinks in the Olympic Center. I’m surprised you haven’t gone there.”
“Look, I know I wouldn’t be any good at it, okay?”
Dean blinked. “How could you know that without trying?”
“If you’d seen me with my brand-new pair of rollerblades on my seventh birthday, you wouldn’t need to ask. Trust me, I was crap at it. That was enough for me. If I couldn’t manage those little wheels, I sure as shit couldn’t manage thin steel blades. Fuck that.”
Dean stared at him for a moment. “You were seven. That was quite a while ago.”
“So? It scarred me for life!” Robin protested. Dean looked away, staring out the window, but his shaking shoulders were a dead giveaway. “This is not funny, okay?”
Except now that he thought about it, it was funny as hell.
Dean laced his fingers through Robin’s, and the intimate gesture filled him with warmth. “At least give it a try? For me?”
Robin sighed. “Fine.”
Who was he kidding? He’d do anything for Dean, and he knew it. Dean had him, heart, body and soul.
Maybe this is the perfect time to tell him how I feel. After the skating, though. As long as I don’t break anything, and we have to visit the Emergency Room.
What he really wanted was the two of them, alone. Heartfelt revelations would have to wait.
“It looks easy enough,” Robin observed as he watched the people skate serenely by.
Dean was already stepping out onto the ice. “Come on, baby,” he said with a smile. “You’ve got this.”
Robin glared at him. “Not necessarily. And is that ‘baby’ meant as ‘you’re adorable’ or ‘you’re such a baby’?”
“You’re adorable, of course. Look, what’s the worst that could happen? You fall on your ass or your knees. And as you’re not going to be going that fast, it won’t hurt. Much.” His eyes twinkled.
“Not helping,” Robin growled.
“Just step out onto the ice. I’ll help you, okay?” His voice rang with confidence.
Fuck it. Dean’s right. I can do this. How hard can it be?
Robin gingerly stepped out onto the ice, and his skates skittered over it. He grabbed onto the ledge to stop himself from landing flat on his ass. His
feet kept slipping, as if they were trying to escape the rest of his body. He pulled himself upright and clung to the wall.
“I’ve figured it out. It works if I don’t move.”
Dean laughed. “How about trying a couple of steps?”
“No!” Robin didn’t dare breathe, let alone move. “I know what’s gonna happen. I’ve seen the cartoons. My legs are gonna go in opposite directions, and I’ll end up breaking something.” He took a deep breath and surveyed the skaters sailing past them. “Okay, I’ve done it now. I’ve been on the ice. Let’s go.”
Dean held out his hand. “I’ve got you,” he said simply. “And if you fall, I’ll pick you up. Every time.”
Robin narrowed his gaze. “You say that like I’m gonna fall more than once.”
Dean moved in closer, his hand on Robin’s cheek. “I wish you could’ve seen me the first time I went out on the ice. It was awful. But I didn’t give up, and now it’s one of my favorite things to do. And I want to share that with you.”
That got through to him.
Robin sighed. “Okay. Here goes.” He took two tentative steps before his legs shot from under him, and he landed hard on his ass. “Ouch.”
Dean helped him up. “Do it again. Like I said, you’ve got this.”
Robin rubbed his ass. “Says you.” He took another step, and slipped again. When Dean helped him to his feet, Robin sighed once more. “This is not for me. It’s cold, for one thing.”
“You ski, so let’s scrap that excuse.”
Robin pointed to the skaters who flew by them. “It’s too fast.”
“No one says you have to go at that speed. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”
Robin rubbed his ass again. “It hurts.”
Dean’s eyes sparkled. “That’s what you said your first time, but it didn’t stop you coming back for more. And after last night, I’m not surprised.”
