by K. C. Wells
“I think that’s a great idea.” He gazed into Dean’s eyes. “How? How can you get me the way you do, after knowing me such a short time?”
Dean laughed. “Remember what I said about us being more than chance? Now do you believe me?”
“Santa again, huh?” Robin sighed. A cute idea. Now, if Santa could get his dad to come around, Robin really would believe in miracles.
Dean lay in bed, disturbed now and again by the sound of late-night traffic. Not that he’d been sleeping anyway. His thoughts were of Robin on the other side of the wall.
This is killing him.
Robin had put on a brave face that afternoon, and they’d had a fantastic time. He marveled at Robin’s skill and speed on skis, and they’d both laughed at Robin’s idiotic notion that he could ever pass himself off as a beginner.
Except it had been Ryan’s idiotic notion.
However, once they got back to Dean’s place, Dean could see the strain in Robin’s face. If there had been any way Dean could’ve taken this away from him, he’d have jumped at it.
The door opened, and Dean turned to look. Robin stood in the doorway, back-lit by the lamp on the landing, wearing nothing but his briefs.
“Are you okay?” Dean sat up in bed.
“Yeah. Well… no.” Robin walked over to him. “My bed’s kinda big without you.”
Dean switched on the bedside light. “You wanted to sleep there, remember? You needed space.” And respecting Robin’s wishes had been tough, but Dean had done it.
“And now I need you.”
Dean didn’t hesitate. He threw back the comforter. “Get in.”
Robin climbed into the bed, and Dean drew him close, his arms around Robin’s slim frame. They lay in silence, Dean content to have him there. Where he belongs. He hoped Robin felt the same way.
“You weren’t the only one, you know,” Robin said after a few minutes.
“Hmm?”
“You said earlier today something about wanting to know if there was more to us than sex. I wanted to know too.”
Something clicked into place. “Last night… you sleeping in my guest room… was that some kind of test?”
Robin sighed. “Yeah, but not for you. I was the one who passed with flying colors.”
“I don’t understand.”
Robin stroked Dean’s chest. “I needed a breather, time to think. But I also had to see if I could spend a night without running to you. And before you say anything, I knew you’d be there for me if I asked you. But I needed to see if I could be strong.”
“And now?”
Robin stroked his beard. “I need to be loved.”
“You are,” Dean assured him. “Now let me love you some more.”
There was something magical about making love in the middle of the night, the lamp switched off, and the air filled with soft sighs and low moans. They clung to each other, rolling beneath the comforter, Robin’s sharp intakes of breath and murmurs of “Oh yeah, there” Dean’s only indication that his fingers and tongue were in the right spots. Gloving up was a little tricky in the dark, but he got there with a little help from Robin. And when Dean hooked his arms under Robin’s knees and slowly sank into his warm, inviting body, he couldn’t hold back his heartfelt sigh of sheer joy.
“Love you,” he whispered as he slid into Robin’s ass, until his shaft was sheathed in tight heat.
“Love you too.” Robin’s lips claimed his an instant later, and that set the pattern. They shared lingering kisses as Dean moved in and out of him, in no hurry to reach a destination, but simply enjoying the journey. Robin’s hands were on his shoulders, his back, his neck, on his face, a constant connection. When Dean came, he buried his face in Robin’s neck, breathing in his smell, his heart light at the sounds that fell from Robin’s lips. Then he cradled Robin while he slid slick fingers into him, a sensual internal massage that brought Robin to orgasm, shaking and breathless in Dean’s arms.
“I’ve got you,” Dean murmured against Robin’s lips, their bodies slick with sweat.
He had no intention of letting Robin go.
Dean brought the hot chocolate into the living room, where Robin sat on the rug, teasing Loki with a piece of tinsel. Loki was having a great time, leaping into the air to try and grasp the shiny silver in his paws. Dean glanced at Robin’s face, and his chest tightened.
Robin looked tired.
Dean knew he’d awoken a few times during the night, and each time Dean had held him close, waiting for him to fall asleep again. But as the day wore on, Dean recognized the pain in those beautiful eyes. And there was nothing he could do to rid Robin of it.
He placed the mugs on the coffee table, then switched on the tree lights. Robin gazed at the tree, a sigh falling from his lips.
“Want me to switch them off?”
Robin jerked his head to stare at him. “What? No. It’s Christmas Eve. They should be on.”
“Not if they make you unhappy.” Dean sat beside him on the rug. “Have you thought about calling your dad? Isn’t it your special family meal this evening? Maybe you should go there.”
“If I thought it would do any good, I’d be there as fast as my bike would take me.”
“If I thought it would do any good, I’d drive you there.” Dean ran his fingers through Robin’s tousled hair. “You need to sleep, baby.”
Robin huffed. “I look that good, huh? Don’t bother lying. I’ve got eyes. And dark circles under them too.”
“Then go upstairs and take a nap. When you’ve had a sleep, I’ll cook us something. Whatever you want.”
Robin kissed him, a fleeting brush of his lips against Dean’s. “You’re trying to make my Christmas Eve special, aren’t you? Sweet man.” Then he nodded. “But you’re right. Maybe a nap is what I need.” He handed Dean the tinsel. “Here. You can take over as Loki’s entertainment.”
“And speaking of Loki… Do you think it’s a good idea to taunt him with tinsel? Seeing as he is definitely the ‘cat most likely to climb the tempting Christmas tree’?”
Robin bit his lip. “Oops?”
Dean laughed. “Loki can curl up in my lap while I watch some TV. Come down when you feel like it.”
Robin kissed the top of Dean’s head, then picked up his mug. “Not gonna waste hot chocolate.” He walked out of the living room.
Dean got up off the rug and sat on the couch, joined by both kitties. He pointed the remote at the TV and switched it on. After spending ten minutes or so channel hopping aimlessly, he hadn’t found anything that grabbed his attention. Lady lay on the cushion beside him, and he stroked her back. Loki lay on the other side.
“How can we fix this, guys?” he murmured. Dean knew it was arrogant to think he could go over to Robin’s house and solve everything. Besides, he respected Robin’s wish to stay away.
When the doorbell rang, it roused him from a light doze. Dean went into the hallway, squinting at the glass in the front door, trying to ascertain who was out there.
He opened the door, and froze at the sight of Robin’s dad.
“Hey.” Mr. Davis shuffled his feet. “Can we talk?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
For a moment, Dean didn’t know how to react. Then he remembered his manners. “Come in.” He stood aside to let Robin’s dad enter, then closed the door after him. “Would you like to take off your coat?”
“That depends.” Mr. Davis looked him in the eye. “On how long I’m staying.”
“How about long enough to drink a cup of coffee?” Dean was determined to be civilized. Robin’s relationship with his parents was at stake here.
Mr. Davis nodded. “That sounds good.” He shrugged off his coat, and Dean hung it on a hook. He glanced at Mr. Davis’s snow-covered boots, and seconds later they stood on the mat beneath the coat hooks.
Dean pointed to the living room. “Go on in. And I hope you like cats, because you’re about to be investigated.”
“Yeah, I like cats.” He frowned. “I
s Robin in there?”
“He’s taking a nap in his room.”
Mr. Davis’s eyes widened. “His room?”
Dean shrugged. “It’s his for as long as he needs it.”
“No, I meant—”
“Yes, I know what you meant,” Dean interjected. “And if you’re here to talk about him, I really think he should hear this, don’t you?” He didn’t break eye contact.
Mr. Davis regarded him steadily. “Can I have my coffee first? We’ll let him sleep a little longer.”
Dean got the message. Mr. Davis wanted to talk ‘man-to-man’.
Fine. He could do that.
“Take a seat and get warm. I’ll be in with the coffee.” Then he left Mr. Davis in the hallway, and went into the kitchen to make coffee. He leaned against the countertop, his stomach clenched. What the fuck do I say to him?
Dean did not want to screw this up.
He set up the machine, his mind racing. By the time the coffee had finished brewing, he’d come up with—and dismissed—several different possibilities for starting the conversation. But as he placed two cups on a tray, along with the coffee pot, Dean realized he had this all the wrong way round.
Robin’s dad had to be the one to get this particular ball rolling.
Dean carried the tray into the living room, not surprised to find Lady stepping delicately into Mr. Davis’s lap. “You’ll take cuddles from anyone who has a pulse, won’t you, Lady?”
Mr. Davis stroked her back. “She’s gorgeous.”
Okay, that thawed Dean a little. “Watch out for your ankles. Loki may be small but he’s mighty.”
Mr. Davis peered at the kitten, who was already approaching in stealth mode. “Loki by name, Loki by nature?” He reached down and scritched Loki under the chin.
“You’d better believe it.” Dean set the tray down on the coffee table. “How do you take yours?”
“Black, thank you.”
Dean poured him a cup, then put it on the side table near him. He poured himself some, then took a seat in the armchair.
“I like your tree.”
Dean glanced at it. “Robin helped me pick it out. He chose it. Then he helped decorate it.” He cleared his throat. “I’m Dean, by the way.”
“I’m Mike.” He sipped his coffee. “This is good.”
Dean had had all the small talk he could take. “You didn’t come here to compliment me on my decorations or my coffee. So why don’t we talk about what’s really on your mind?”
“Right to the point. I like that.” Mike took another sip, then set the cup down. He took a breath. “Last night my wife decided it was time for some ‘plain speaking’ as she put it. What she actually said was that I needed to pull my head out of my ass.”
Dean already liked Robin’s mom a whole lot. “Yeah, that sounds a lot like ‘plain speaking’ to me.”
“Then my son Ryan got in on the act. He didn’t pull any punches either. And I couldn’t rebuke him for it, because he nailed it. They both did.” Mike swallowed, then reached for his coffee.
Dean waited, his stomach tight.
“This is an awkward situation, all right? When I had it out with Robin the other night, I said a few things that have since come back to haunt me.”
“Such as?”
Mike sighed. “My wife—Petra—reminded me of something my father-in-law said, the night she brought me home to meet her parents.” He put down his cup. “I don’t know how much Robin has told you about our family, but… She was eighteen when we met, and I was twenty-six. Her dad wasn’t too happy about that. He yelled at her, and I thought at the time that I’d never forget his words.” He swallowed again. “Apparently I did.”
“What did he say?”
Mike stroked Lady, avoiding Dean’s gaze. “She told him she loved me, and he hollered, ‘You’re eighteen! What do you know about love?’”
Dean cocked his head. “Let me guess. You said the same thing to Robin Sunday night.”
Mike nodded. “Okay, I got it wrong. I forgot I’d ever been Robin’s age. I forgot how… deeply you feel things when your heart is all caught up, and your emotions are all over the place.” He expelled a long breath. “It took my wife and son to bring it all back to me. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about this situation. Can you blame me? I think any dad would have reacted the same way.”
“Like your father-in-law did,” Dean observed, and Mike winced. Dean put his cup down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped between them. “Look… maybe I should speak plainly too. I didn’t intend to fall in love with your son.”
Mike blinked. “I… I see.”
“I had all kinds of misgivings about starting down this road. And I threw every objection at him that I could think of.”
“Robin said he did all the running.”
Dean bit back a smile. “Your son can be very determined when he sets his sights on something. But in the end, the difference in our ages didn’t matter anymore. I know it seems enormous now, but the age gap isn’t as static as you might think. Wait till he’s twenty and I’m thirty-four. Or better yet, when he’s thirty, and I’m forty-four. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.” Dean sighed. “I know it’s a cliché—the older guy falling for the younger man—but hey, that’s how it is.”
Mike cleared his throat. “The main thing I’m taking away from this, is that you don’t see this relationship as short-term. You’re talking like—”
“Like Robin and I are going to be together for many years to come?” Dean smiled. “I’m not naive enough to suggest that. There are no absolutes in life. Shit happens. People fall in and out of love. You and I both know that, right?” He took a deep breath. “But that’s not going to stop me from hoping.”
Mike stared at him, and Dean hoped to God he’d gotten through.
“Maybe I should be a little more… open-minded,” Mike said at last. “Maybe I should give you the same benefit of the doubt my father-in-law gave me.”
“And how long did it take him to come around?”
Mike lowered his gaze, focusing on Lady as he stroked her gently. “He was hardassed about it at first. He told Petra she couldn’t see me anymore—exactly like I did with Robin. That didn’t stop us, of course. We were in love. Pet said her dad flew off the handle easily, but he usually came around once he’d had time to stew about things.” Mike chuckled. “Sounds familiar.”
“So he did come around eventually?”
“Yeah—once I’d showed him I treasured his baby almost as much as he did. And starting up my own business was my way of proving to him I could provide for her. Maybe him riding me so hard was what pushed me to do that. Mind you, it took almost a year before he gave in, grudgingly.”
Dean’s mind went to Robin. “Your son is fiercely independent. I think we both realize that. I’ll take care of him—if he’ll let me.”
Mike chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a lot like his mom. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and let me know when I’m wrong. And after nearly twenty years of marriage, I find admitting I’m wrong works wonders—in moderation,” he added, raising his head, his eyes twinkling. Then he sighed. “In the end, all my father-in-law wanted was for Petra to be happy, and she was—with me. And that’s all I want for Robin—to be happy.” He studied Dean. “Robin says he loves you. You say you love him. Maybe for now that’s enough.”
“What’s enough?” Robin stood in the doorway, his hair in its usual tousled state. He stared at Mike. “Hey, Dad. How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to come to a decision.” Mike gently put Lady on the seat beside him, then got to his feet and walked over to where Robin stood. “Come home for dinner this evening?” When Robin opened his mouth to respond, Mike got in first. “And… bring Dean with you.” He turned to face Dean. “That’s if you’ll come.”
Dean smiled. “I’ll be there, you can count on that.”
Robin’s eyes were huge. “Really?”
; Mike nodded. “I think it’s time we got to know each other a little better, don’t you?”
Robin’s chest heaved. “You mean that?”
“I do. So now I’ll leave you alone. Besides, I need to go home and tell your mom to set another place at the table.”
Dean walked across to Mike, his hand extended. Mike contemplated it for a second, before giving it a firm shake. “I’m glad you came over.”
Mike chuckled as he relinquished Dean’s hand. “I had little choice in the matter, believe me. I had Petra and Ryan giving me grief. Now maybe I’ll get to enjoy my Christmas in peace.” He gazed at Robin. “But before I go…” He laid his hand on Robin’s shoulder. “I guess it’s a hard thing for any father to accept his kids have grown up. I trust you with so much where the business is concerned. I tell folks how mature you are. Maybe I should start meaning what I say, and trust you now.”
Dean’s throat tightened as Robin hugged his dad. Way to go, Santa. Dean didn’t believe for a second that he and Mike were suddenly bosom buddies, but it was a start.
Dean and Robin stood at the front door, waving as Mike got into his car and drove off. Dean closed the door, and a second later, Robin leaped into his arms.
“Did that just happen?”
Dean laughed, but Robin took his mouth in a fervent kiss, and Dean went with it. He pushed Robin against the front door, his hands under Robin’s ass, and held him there while they kissed.
“Hey,” Dean murmured between kisses. “We’re giving my neighbors a free show right now.”
Robin chuckled. “Then you should sell tickets. We’d make a fortune.” He locked his legs around Dean’s waist, reclaiming his lips in another hungry kiss.
It took all of Dean’s strength of will to pull away. He didn’t put Robin down, however. Holding him like that felt so good.
“A couple of things I need to point out here. I want to grab a shower before we go. You need one too. And if we don’t stop, we are going to be late. Think what kind of impression that would create.” He had one more point to make, but it pained him to have to do it.
