Popjoy’s was situated on the ground floor of an enormous Georgian building. It was the kind of place Robin’s mum loved: high ceilings with elaborate wedding-cake mouldings picked out in historic colours, enormous potted palms and a hushed calm that lay over the diners while the waiters dashed around seeing to their every last demand. His family were already seated, and the maitre d’ led them over.
“Robin! Darling! You look wonderful.” His mum was practically gushing in her effort to lavish praise on him. Most unexpected. “Doesn’t he look smart, Edward? So much better than last time we visited.”
“Leave him be,” Robin’s dad said. “You won’t be able to nag him into a better wardrobe. You should have realised that by now.” Robin flashed him a grateful smile, but he’d already turned his sharp gaze on Dan, holding back and assessing while his wife unleashed her maternal affection on the unsuspecting newcomer.
“And you must be Dan,” she simpered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I can see you’ve been a good influence on my boy already.”
Robin watched him fielding the cheek kisses and fawning attentions and hoped Dan would end up with a great big lipstick mark on his face. It would serve him right, forcing Robin into going shopping and insisting on buying a brand-new outfit. He’d felt humiliated accepting the gift, but even Robin had had to agree that he really didn’t own any clothes suitable for Popjoy’s, and he’d conveniently forgotten to take out his wallet. Not that there was anything much left in it, but Dan didn’t need to know that.
It wasn’t a bad outfit. He’d insisted on his usual style of combat trousers, but these were from Gap rather than the army surplus store. They probably wouldn’t last as long, but at least he’d get some use out of them over the winter. Dan had picked out a black collarless shirt for him, which he had to admit looked good, but he felt odd. It was like wearing some kind of disguise or costume—the sort of thing he’d wear to a wedding or funeral. Or perhaps a christening, which was the most likely celebration to be coming up soon. Could you wear black to a christening? No doubt his mum would have something to say on the matter. He glanced at her tastefully coordinated ensemble of neutral-coloured clothing that looked deceptively simple but, knowing her, cost a small fortune. She’d always tried to bully him into polo shirts and chinos like his father wore, which was why he took such pleasure in thwarting her by wearing scruffy combat gear.
Robin bent down to kiss his sister, who was too big now to get up easily, or so she said. It was a shock to see her like that—so large and round, her cheeks glowing and her eyes bright.
“How’s my nephew getting along in there?” he asked.
“Oh just fine. We think Patrick junior’s going to be a rugby player when he’s older. He already seems determined to throw his weight around as much as possible.” Miranda smiled up at Robin, and for the first time he could remember since they were kids, it seemed genuine. “You’re looking well, little brother. Your friend Dan here must be a good influence after all. So, are you and he…?”
Thankfully she didn’t seem able to finish the sentence, because Robin didn’t have a clue how to answer. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he could say whether he and Dan were anything more than fuck-buddies, and he didn’t think that term would go down too well.
“He’s very dashing,” Miranda continued. “Quite a catch, I should say.” She winked at Robin, who hid his confusion by fixing his eyes on the dashing Mr. Taylor. Even though Robin didn’t have the fashion consciousness to fully appreciate the cut of Dan’s new suit, he could certainly enjoy the way the cream wool hung on his slim body. The salesman had called the colour ecru, and it looked drab on the hanger, but when Dan tried it on, it had made his skin and hair radiant. Yeah, he could probably get into the idea of having a boyfriend who looked that good in smart gear. But of course, Dan wasn’t his boyfriend, so thinking like that was a pointless waste of time.
They all sat down at the round table, Robin between Dan and Miranda, with his mum on the other side of Dan. He eyed the white linen tablecloth and array of eating implements with trepidation. God, he hoped Dan knew which forks to use for which course. Trust Mum to book them into somewhere this stuffy and staid. The bloody waiters were in smarter clothing than he was, for Christ’s sake.
The tiny, cursive script on the leather-bound menu danced in front of Robin’s eyes. He scowled. How the hell was he meant to read that? He’d have to order steak and chips. Every restaurant seemed to be able to cope with that one, although it did get dull, always having the same thing.
But then Dan squeezed his thigh, gently kneading the flesh as he carried on his conversation with Robin’s mum, and the pressure was reassuring. It wasn’t until he felt his shoulders ease that he realised just how tense he’d been.
“What are you going for, Robin?” Dan asked. “I can’t decide between the salmon fettuccine, the lamb burger with roast potatoes, or the mixed grill.”
Dan must have ended up mulling over almost every item on the menu before Robin finally realised what was going on. He selected a lemon sole with thick-cut chips and roasted baby vegetables, giving Dan a grateful smile. It meant a lot to be helped out in an unobtrusive way. No one else had ever managed to do that without him ending up feeling patronised.
The first couple of courses went well. Surprisingly well, with Dan keeping his mum distracted with a constant stream of chatter. Dan seemed far more interested in the Hamilton family history than Robin himself was, and it pleased her no end. Even his dad smiled a little, and when Dan asked him about the rugby match, they had a whole conversation over Rosemary’s head.
“I didn’t know you liked rugby,” Robin said when there was a lull.
“Yep, certainly do. I could pretend it was purely for the love of the game, but really, have you seen some of those players?”
“Not my type,” Robin mumbled, staring down at his half-eaten fish. Did Dan really have to flame quite so brightly in front of his dad? If there had been any doubt about Dan’s sexuality in their minds, there certainly wouldn’t be any longer. Now they’d all be wondering what was going on between the two of them.
Not that his dad seemed bothered. “I suppose you like that Gareth Thomas, then, do you? Must say I was a bit surprised when he came out, but just goes to show you never can tell.”
His mum butted in. “That’s right, darling. Like with our Robin here—you never would have thought it to see him as a teenager. He was always such a lad. Running around, getting into trouble, swearing and drinking. You should have seen him then, Dan. A right little tearaway, he was. Not even a trace of a limp wrist.”
Robin glared at her. Was his mum determined to wreck whatever this thing was he had going with Dan?
This thing that would be over tomorrow when Dan went back to London. Back to his other fuckbuddy, Tris. Bile rose in his throat at the thought.
“Excuse me,” he said, almost knocking over his chair in his haste to get away.
He made for the gents.
The stomach acid burnt his throat, but the food stubbornly refused to make a reappearance. He stared into the empty toilet bowl. Just dessert to get through now.
Dessert was always a disaster with the Hamilton family. Too much wine consumed for his mum to keep it civil. Too much for Robin to resist taking the bait. Dan would want to run away as fast as he could, and Robin wouldn’t blame him.
His heart dragged as he made his slow way back to the table.
Dan watched Robin stalk back through the tables with a face like he’d been sucking on one of those scented urinal cubes. When Robin sat down again, Dan tried to take his hand under the table, but he pulled away and refused to make eye contact. Dan wasn’t able to draw anything more than a monosyllabic response from him, eventually giving up and concentrating on talking to Rosemary instead. It was fascinating to observe just how much Robin had taken after his parents, no matter how far he’d tried to remove himself. While Robin had Rosemary’s dark colouring and eyes, it was obvious he favoured his father
in conversational skills and facial expressions. By contrast, Rosemary was all smiles and flirtatious, breathless confidences.
She became even more voluble over the dessert course, her cheeks glowing as she leant towards him.
“So, Dan, darling, tell me, do you have a boyfriend back in London?”
“No, nobody special. I’ve searched London far and wide but not had any joy.”
“You don’t want to go looking there. Much better men to be found in the countryside. I met Edward on a walk in the Cotswolds, didn’t I, darling?” Edward gave a noncommittal grunt, but Rosemary didn’t seem in the least bit bothered. Maybe he could learn something from her about how to deal with Robin’s moods. “So, how long have you known my Robin?”
“Only for the past week, but I feel like it’s been much longer.”
“Oh, I see. Just a week.” Did she really sound disappointed, or was that just his imagination? “But I expect you’ll be seeing more of each other in the future.”
Dan gazed at Robin, getting a blank stare in response. How was he meant to know how to respond if the guy didn’t give him any clues?
“If that’s what Robin wants.”
“Well, Robin? Are you going to carry on seeing Dan? I think you should. He’s a very nice young man, and he’s worked wonders on you in a short time already. He might be able to help you get your life back on track.”
Robin’s face twisted as Rosemary spoke. Funny how hurt that made Dan feel. Not that they’d been planning to see any more of each other after this week, but the thought that Robin was disgusted by the idea was more painful than Dan would ever have expected.
But when Robin started speaking in a low, dangerous voice, it wasn’t about Dan at all.
“How can you say that when you treated Jamie like he was shit? I loved him, I really loved him, and you wouldn’t even have him in your house. You kicked him out, remember?” Robin was getting louder and people at the nearby tables turned to look. “Now you want me to shack up with a guy I’ve only just met? A guy who’s the biggest slut in the whole of London? Well, excuse me if I don’t go taking your advice on men.”
Robin knocked his chair back as he stood, then whirled around and stomped out of the restaurant.
Fuck. What was he supposed to do now?
Dan looked around at the faces of Robin’s family. Rosemary’s mouth hung open, Edward studied his tiramisu with a frown, and Miranda stroked her bump and made soothing baby talk. Useless, all of them.
Dan leapt up and made after Robin.
He caught up with him down a crowded pedestrianised shopping street.
“Robin, wait!”
Robin halted and stood with his head hanging. Dan fought his way past a group of tourists laden with cameras and shopping bags and eventually fetched up next to him. Robin met his eyes for only a brief moment, but long enough for Dan to see the hurt lurking there.
“I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that. About you, I mean.”
Dan shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t heard before, babe, and it’s not that much of an exaggeration, although I reckon Tris could give me a run for my money.”
Robin turned his face away again, and Dan stepped closer, taking hold of both his arms.
“How about we go back in there, you smooth things over with your folks, and then we can both head back to the boat and make up properly?”
Robin gave a small smile. “How about we skip straight to the last bit?”
“She’s your mum. She obviously loves you like crazy or she wouldn’t want to get so involved. How about you give her a break just this once?”
“You’re only saying that because she likes you.”
“Yeah, okay, I’m a sucker for flattery. Now come on. A little apology won’t hurt you. I’ll make it worth your while later, all right?”
Robin closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded and opened them. He turned back towards the restaurant. “Come on, then, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can make good on that promise.”
Dan followed in his wake.
Family.
He was getting way out of his depth here.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dan woke to the sound of raindrops pattering against the steel roof above. He was awake earlier than Robin for a change. There was none of his usual grogginess while the world swam back into focus. No, today the situation was crystal clear from the moment he opened his eyes.
It was time to leave. The hire boat was due back later today. He needed to get back to London, write up the assignment and edit his shots. He wanted to do this—he wanted to seize the opportunity and further his career. The only problem was, he didn’t want to go.
It would be stupid to pretend he didn’t know why. There was the weight of Robin’s arm thrown across his chest that felt so right. There was the warmth of Robin’s body, fitting against his own so perfectly. And most of all, there was that urge he had to kiss him awake so that they could fuck again and again. Yeah, he had it bad, all right. But he’d been infatuated with guys before and it had never lasted long, so why should this be any different?
Was it because he knew he’d be just as happy to wake Robin up, skip the sex and go straight to the cuddling and confidences? Okay, maybe not just as happy, but this wasn’t all about sex. Not anymore. The previous night had made him realise that. After fucking him long, slow and thoroughly, Robin had lapsed into a brooding silence, and Dan had lain awake for an age after Robin’s breathing had settled into the rhythm of sleep. He’d berated himself for not coaxing words out of Robin; he hadn’t wanted to promise what he couldn’t give, but he felt like he owed Robin something.
No, scratch that. He didn’t owe Robin anything, but he wanted to prove to both of them that he was more than just an easy lay. A cheap slut. Thing was, he wasn’t sure he knew how to be anything else. He wasn’t good enough for Robin, and he knew it, even if he’d never treat him as shittily as Jamie had.
But maybe they could try and salvage something out of this week—something more than just a memory and a crazy longing for what could have been if he’d let himself go.
Trouble was, Dan was bloody well terrified.
He was still paralysed by indecision when Robin’s breathing changed.
“Hey, morning, sleepyhead. I was hoping you’d wake up soon.” Dan batted his eyelashes and wriggled, rubbing his hip against Robin’s ever-present morning wood.
He quailed under the intensity of Robin’s gaze: those eyes were like two dark pits, swallowing up the early morning glow filtering through the skylight.
“You’re leaving today.” Robin’s voice sounded rough. He must have had too much to smoke last night.
“I have to.”
Robin closed his eyes and nodded. Dan watched the way his brow furrowed and reached out to smooth it. Robin caught his wrist, rubbing lips and cheeks against his palm, and for some stupid reason the rasp of stubble against his skin made him want to cry. He fought back savagely, assaulting Robin with his lips and tongue so that he wouldn’t break down. His lust rose thick and fast, blotting out everything else, and he bit down on Robin’s neck before scrambling down to latch onto his cock.
Dan scraped his teeth along the heavy length. Robin hissed, grabbing handfuls of his hair. Dan’s scalp burned as Robin yanked his head back and glared at him.
“Don’t you ever hurt me again, slut!”
Dan blinked, wanting to make a sharp retort about how he’d put up with Robin biting and scratching him all week, but he knew even as he started to speak that he’d loved every minute of it. “Well then you shoul—”
Robin’s fingers pushed into his mouth, effectively silencing him. “Listen to me carefully. I’m going to fuck your mouth, and if you dare use your teeth on me again, there’ll be trouble, all right?”
The steel in Robin’s voice made Dan shiver, but not in an altogether bad way. Yes, there was fear, but not the big, life-changing fear he’d been contemplating before Robin woke. No, this was a small
fear, a delicious frisson. Robin was just playing with him, wasn’t he? But the darkness in Robin’s eyes made him doubt.
Robin must have sensed his confusion, and he loosened his hold on Dan’s hair. “Is this okay?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Yeah.” Dan nodded and was about to say more when Robin pushed into his mouth.
He relaxed his jaw, opened his throat and let Robin fuck him. This wasn’t something he normally enjoyed all that much. He’d always thought guys who took over a blowjob like this to be boorish. But when it was Robin, it was somehow different. The sensation of his hair being pulled and Robin’s cockhead bumping against the back of his throat set his whole body on fire, his own dick throbbing with anticipation. He snatched his breaths quickly between strokes, the lack of oxygen making him dizzy.
“Look at me,” Robin commanded.
Dan’s eyes sprang open. Robin was staring at him in a way that made him even more confused. His eyes shone with a wild mixture of jumbled-up desire and sorrow and rage and…tenderness.
“Touch yourself, please.”
There was nothing Dan wanted to do more, and he wondered why he hadn’t already. But when his damp palm made contact with his burning cock, all thoughts evaporated. There was only this here, this now, with Robin pounding into him and his own hand pumping himself up and down. This cocoon of hot, sweaty bodies and the constant drumming of rain and rasping of breath.
Robin’s rhythm stuttered, and Dan stared into his eyes, losing himself in their depths. Their gazes remained locked, even as Robin convulsed, cursed and rammed into Dan’s sore throat. Dan felt Robin’s cock pulsing in his mouth and swallowed hard, grateful for the way the jerks dragged the flavour across his tongue. And still Robin’s gaze bored into his own, and he could feel the heat of it deep inside him.
The sensation reverberated through him, thrilling down every nerve ending and shaking his fragile control apart. Dan thrust hard into his hand, barely aware of the tightening of his balls as the world contracted to that glimmer in Robin’s eyes, that spark that he held on to even as the orgasm swept through his body. A fuzzy whiteness invaded the edges of his vision, but Robin’s eyes were the centre of the storm, holding him there while the world burst into fragments.
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