by A. E. Wasp
“Oh, it’s helping me.” He reached down and swooped the silky dark-green boxers off the floor and threw them at Robbie. “Try these on now,” he said voice low and eyes dark with lust.
God, Robbie felt like he’d been at least half-aroused forever. Watching Paul squirm on the hard bench only fueled the fire. Maybe Paul was right. Maybe he was a sadist and a masochist combined because he loved this game they were playing.
Turning to face Paul fully, Robbie made a show of bending down and slowly stepping into the expensive boxer briefs. He pulled them up just as slowly in a kind of reverse strip-tease.
The feel of the material against his skin distracted him from his evil plan. “Oh, my God,” he sighed as the pants settled like a silken hug around his hips. The front pouch did, in fact, cradle his junk perfectly.
These were the best things he’d ever had against his skin.
Paul’s expression was deservedly smug. “See?” He stood up and crowded into Robbie’s space. “Just let me…” He stuck his hand down the front of Robbie’s underwear and adjusted his package.
He pulled back far enough to get a look at his handiwork. “Fuck,” he said reverently. “Turn around. Shii-it.” He dragged the word out long and sweet.
“Hey, boys. I’m back. And I got some snacks, too. Just in case. You still doing okay?”
Paul opened the door, making sure Robbie wasn’t visible. “Thanks, dude. And yeah, we’re definitely taking those green ones. Can we get one pair in every color you have?”
Todd smiled and handed him two water bottles. “I brought one up for your friend, too, just in case he needed something to cool him off,” he said, voice laden with innuendo.
“Thanks, Todd,” Robbie called from behind the door.
They tried on a few different styles, the groping escalating rapidly until Robbie found himself completely naked and pushed up against a wall with a fully-clothed Paul plastered against him.
That was easily the sluttiest thing Robbie had ever done, and he’d never been so turned on in his life. He was so hard it hurt, and somehow the hurting turned him on more.
“Jesus, stop,” Robbie panted, pushing Paul away as far as he could without unclenching his fingers from Paul’s shirt. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”
“Fuck. Me, too.” Paul looked as wrecked as Robbie felt. “Is it just me, or does it make it hotter knowing we can’t?”
“It’s not just you.” Robbie forced his fingers to let go of Paul’s shirt. “Now go sit down and don’t move or Todd’s going to get an eyeful of something I’m sure he’d pay money to see.”
“I’ll be good,” Paul promised. On the bench, he sat on his hands to show how good he would be. It didn’t last.
After a thorough hands-on inspection that left them both hard and panting, Paul declared the boxer briefs that extended a few inches down Robbie’s thighs the winners.
Robbie ended up getting seven pairs of them, some matching T-shirts, and a pair of bamboo lounge pants that were so soft he wanted to live in them.
He blanched at the price as he signed the credit slip.
Paul noticed. “I think I know something that would make you feel better,” he said as they wandered back into the main mall.
“What?” Robbie could practically feel his parents’ withering glares if they ever found out he had spent a couple of hundred dollars on underwear and pajamas.
“Come here.” Paul led them to a gigantic Christmas tree at the intersection of two corridors. It had to be ten feet tall.
As he got closer, Robbie could see index cards hanging from the branches. A sign read “Adopt a Family for Christmas.” Several people were glancing through the cards, making sure to check out the ones near the top and the ones on the bottom as well as the more easily accessible ones near the middle of the tree.
“Pick a card, any card,” Paul said. “It’s something my church does every year. Families in need fill out these cards, and people can pick one or more and play Santa. It’s one of my favorite things.”
He reached through a couple of cards before picking two. “I like to get ones with the teenagers because I feel like they get overlooked. It’s easier and more flashy to buy toys for the little ones, but I hate thinking of some kid who just wants a decent coat so he can be warm on his way to school getting shortchanged because he’s not cute anymore.”
He turned to hand one to Robbie but stopped at the look on Robbie’s face. “Or not. I mean, you don’t have to. I’m gonna, but if it’s not your thing.”
“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Paul blushed to the tops of his ears. “It’s no big deal. Just thought you could spend the same amount here. Kind of balance the scales, ease your conscience.”
Robbie gave in to his heart, and pulled Paul in for a hard hug. The bags and coats they carried made it awkward, but Robbie didn’t care. From the way Paul hugged him back, he didn’t care either.
“You’re a good man,” Robbie said when the hug ended. He turned to the tree and started looking for two families of his own. It wasn’t much, but it felt good to think of making Christmas happier for a few people anyway.
“What about the people on the top?” he asked, tilting his head to look up the tree.
A young woman in an Adopt a Family T-shirt answered him. “We make sure they get rotated down. We do it a few times a day.”
“That’s great,” Robbie said. She was someone who was making a difference. He bet she did more than play sports for a living.
After a few minutes of thoughtful perusal, he settled on a single mom with three kids, all in a STEM magnet school, and the family of a veteran who only asked for supplies for their service dog. They would get that and presents for the kids and the parents as well.
Tears pricked at Robbie’s eyelids. Tears of gratitude for the amazing life he’d had, of sorrow for all the struggling families, and a little for how much Paul’s thoughtfulness had touched him. He knew Robbie was struggling with the spending, and he’d found a way to help Robbie and other people at the same time.
He was a good man. It was eons too early to be thinking like this, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Paul could be someone worth facing the public for.
He was starting to think Drew had been right when he’d accused Robbie of not loving him enough.
Pushing those thoughts away, he gave Paul another quick hug. “Let’s go shopping!”
18
Paul
They lost to the Calgary Flames in their first home game after the trip. Jet-lag and exhaustion from their travels were part of it, but so was the fact that the Flames had been major dicks.
Despite historically racking up a low number of penalty minutes per game, the Thunder had given almost as good as they’d gotten tonight. Paul himself had ended up spending four minutes in the penalty box.
Two of them he’d served for Sergei after the usually unflappable goalie had been driven to slashing at the royal-dickwad of a forward who’d been screening him hard the whole game.
When the guy actually turned his back on the play to face Sergei, chirping major crap at him, Sergei had cracked. He took the jerk down with one quick swing of his stick. Paul had taken that penalty gladly. Luckily, the ref had ruled on the Flames’ forward with the Avery rule, so there wasn’t a power play to burn.
Paul had earned his second two-minutes. He was lucky it hadn’t been a double-minor.
Both teams had been fighting hard for possession during a four-minute stretch with three line changes. Robbie picked the puck right from the Flames’ right wing’s stick and sent it sliding over to Paul’s tape. Then the winger slammed Robbie so hard into the boards, he dropped to the ice like a fallen tree. His helmet popped off, rolling down the rink.
Paul’s gloves were on the ice, and he was on that guy in a hot second. The few hits he got in before getting pulled off the guy were very satisfying.
After a quick concussion check, Robbie
was back on the ice more on fire than he’d been before the hit. But, just to be on the safe side, Paul kept a hard eye on anyone who looked like they might be targeting Robbie.
Ultimately, they lost. Even though they’d won the three on the road, the mood in the locker room after the game was pretty low. Thank goodness they had two days off in a row next. Everyone needed some rest, a couple of massages, and time to regroup.
It was only December, and they had more than fifty games left to play in the regular season. Then, if they were lucky enough, there would be playoffs. Everything already hurt, and he was young. He couldn’t imagine how older guys like Jake must feel.
Shitty players and bad calls aside, Paul had never been so happy to lose a game in his life. If he didn’t get to come soon, he might just have a spontaneous orgasm the next time he rolled over in bed. He was ready to jump Robbie in the locker room.
The normal post-game ritual lasted forever with Paul second-guessing his behavior around the team the entire time. Was he being too obvious around Robbie? Was he being too standoffish? Or just being weird in general? Probably the last one.
He finally broke out of the stadium, heading for the parking lot. Robbie met him there, grabbing him around the neck and pulling him down in a move somewhere between hugging and wrestling. “Hey, dude.”
Like that’s all they were. Just bros hanging out. But Paul had seen the look in Robbie’s eyes when he pulled on those soft green boxer briefs.
“Hey, look who got some grownup underwear,” Jake had commented because of course he did. Nothing was sacred.
“Yeah, yeah,” Robbie answered with an eye roll. “I got tired of hearing Dyson bitching about it.”
Paul threw a rolled-up towel at him. “You try sharing a room with those things for five nights.”
Robbie had glared at him, but then made a point of walking slowly across the room under the pretense of getting something off the snack table. Jerk.
“Did you walk or drive here?” Paul asked. They hadn’t discussed what, if anything, was going to happen tonight, but Robbie’s place was way closer than his. The last thing he wanted to do was drive across Seattle right now.
“I walked.”
“Want a ride home?” That was a safe question, right? If anyone overheard, they wouldn’t think anything. And he wasn’t making any assumptions about what would happen when they got to Robbie’s place. Except for the way he totally was.
“Yeah, sure.” Robbie lowered his voice. “You’re coming up, right?”
Paul grinned and matched Robbie’s low tone. “Oh, I’m up. And there had better be coming.”
Robbie elbowed him. “Just keep walking.”
“Wait.” Paul stopped Robbie with a hand on his chest. “What’s the parking like at your place?”
“I have a covered spot in the lot. Why?”
“How mad would you be if I asked if I could use your spot?” Paul worried his bottom lip. “Or we could go to my apartment.”
“What the hell are you driving?”
“Oh, you’ll see.” Twirling his keys around his finger, he waggled his eyebrows at Robbie.
Robbie shook his head. “Just show me.”
The car was covered, but they could make out the shape of it under the tan canvas. Robbie raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything as he helped Paul carefully remove the cover.
He whistled low in appreciate. “Now that is a gorgeous car. I can see why you’d be concerned.” He ran his hand appreciatively over the curves of the classic car. “What year is it?”
“Seventy-six.”
“Nice.” He trailed his fingers over up over the low roofline. “I love the color.”
“Are you going to get in it, or just fondle it?”
“I’m getting.” He opened the door and slowly lowered himself in.
Paul started the engine, and Robbie grinned at the sound. “Nice, right?” Paul asked.
“Yeah.” He laughed, grabbing onto the dashboard as Paul peeled out of the spot much faster than he would have if he were alone.
“Seatbelt!” Robbie yelled, but he was still laughing as he pulled the belt around his shoulder. He looked helplessly for something to attach the clip to.
Stopping at the top of the exit ramp, Paul wedged his hand under Robbie’s butt and dug the waist belt out from the crack in the seat. Robbie wiggling against his hand didn’t make it any easier.
Robbie quickly figured out the belts and stretched his legs out as best he could. “Not very practical, is it?”
“Not even a little bit,” Paul said with a big grin. He eased the Stingray onto the road. Too late to be going out, too early to be going in, the traffic was as light as it ever got.
Robbie looked up at the ceiling. “Is it a convertible?”
“T-top,” Paul answered, tapping on the ceiling. Dang, he loved this car.
Robbie stared out the side window as they sedately cruised the side streets to his apartment. “Seems a shame to have to go slow.”
“Tell me about it,” Paul agreed. “I haven’t taken her out in a while. Not since I drove her here from Bakersfield.”
“Turn here,” Robbie instructed, then realized what Paul said. “You drove this tiny car here? Where did you fit your stuff?”
Paul laughed. “Now you know why I don’t have any clothes.”
He looked around the cramped interior, then at Paul. He grinned. “Totally worth it.”
“So worth it.” Paul shifted into second as they approached Robbie’s driveway. “You want to take her up into the mountains tomorrow?”
Robbie grinned like a little kid on Christmas morning. “Hell, yeah.”
“Then go move your granny-mobile so the Queen can have a nice, cozy spot. Safe from packs of marauding teenagers and pooping birds.”
With a roll of his eyes, Robbie got out of the car.
It took a little patience, but they finally found a spot on the street for the Prius and got the Stingray settled to Paul’s approval in the garage.
19
Paul
They didn’t talk on their way up to the apartment. The way they bumped shoulders in the elevator and the press of Robbie’s hand against Paul’s lower back said everything Paul needed to know.
Robbie flicked on the light, giving Paul a good look at the apartment. Not that there was much to see. He wasn’t there for the tour anyway.
He crowded Robbie deeper into the apartment, not giving him time to do more than drop his overcoat on the back of a kitchen chair as they passed by. Paul tossed his in the general direction of the table. He plastered himself to Robbie’s back, herding him to the nearest convenient surface, hands working at loosening Robbie’s tie as they walked.
“Eager?” Robbie asked with a laugh even as he yanked his belt off, sliding it through the loops and dropping it to the floor.
“Like you’re not,” Paul said, reaching down to palm Robbie’s rapidly growing package.
Over Robbie’s shoulder, Paul saw a piece of furniture he remembered well. “Oh, man, I can’t believe you brought that ratty futon with you.”
“It’s a perfectly good piece of furniture,” Robbie explained, shrugging out of his suit jacket. It followed the belt to the floor.
“Oh, it’s a classic a’ight.” Paul slid Robbie’s tie through the collar of the shirt, nuzzling at his neck as he did.
Robbie grabbed his head to hold him in place and groaned. “Says someone driving a forty-year-old car.” Letting go, he turned to face Paul, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.
Paul grabbed his wrists. “Hey, Queenie is a classic. Don’t dis my car if you ever want to ride in her again.”
Robbie kissed him with a swipe of his tongue across Paul’s mouth and a nip to his bottom lip as he pulled away. “I’ll apologize to her tomorrow, okay? Buy her a nice air freshener.”
“Okay.” Paul grabbed Robbie and pulled him in for a deep kiss, keeping them locked together as he walked Robbie backward to the futon.
&nb
sp; Robbie went down with an oof when the back of his knees hit the edge of the futon.
Paul went down with him, straddling his lap, and wrapping his hands around Robbie’s neck. He ran his fingers through Robbie’s hair from the nape of his neck up to the top of his head. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Robbie answered. They were both grinning like fools.
“So, we lost.”
“Yes, we did.” Robbie started tugging Paul’s shirt out from his pants.
“I really, really think we should have sex now. Just in case. Set a new, better, precedent.” He leaned back far enough so that he could unbutton Robbie’s shirt.
“Oh, you do?”
“Um hm.” He really did. He didn’t know where this forwardness was coming from, but he bet it had something to do with being teased to within an inch of sanity for the last five days.
Robbie reached his hands under Paul’s shirt, sliding his fingers down the back of his pants. “You do know this, us, is a terrible idea for so many reasons?”
“I do. But we’re doing it anyway, right?” Paul traced Robbie’s jawline with his thumb, grinding his weight down on his legs as desire started to build higher inside him.
“Yeah,” Robbie said a little breathlessly. “Yeah.”
Paul spread his hand against the back of Robbie’s head, pulling him close. Robbie opened to the first touch of Paul’s lips against his. He moaned as Paul’s tongue pushed into his mouth.
Robbie’s hands tightened on Paul’s hips, and he pulled Paul down against him, kissing him at the same time as if he were desperate to be inside Paul in any way he could: cock, breath, or tongue.
“You punched someone for me.”
“Well, yeah.” Paul frowned. “An asshole forward, more specifically.” Paul shifted away just a hair. “Was that okay?”
He held his breath as Robbie seemingly pondered the question. Paul tried very hard not to rock against the hardness between his legs.