by K. C. Wells
“Where are you going?”
Dean grinned. “Well, there’s the small but vital matter of a Christmas tree. I usually get mine from Covel’s tree farm. It’s about a forty-five-minute drive from here. You don’t have to come. You could stay here and give Lady some attention. Because we both know she’s starved of that, right?”
Robin laughed. As if he would pass up the opportunity to spend time with Dean. “I’d love to go with you.”
“Great. Let me get my car keys, and we can leave now.” He disappeared into the house.
Robin leaned his bike against the exterior, and took a look at Dean’s neighbors. Already, he could see Christmas trees in windows, covered with colorful lights. Up and down the street, snowmen stood on front lawns, accompanied by reindeer and bright red sleighs, in which sat cheerful fat Santas.
Robin loved Christmas. The season had always held a special kind of magic for him.
“Admiring the view?” Dean asked as he stepped out of the house and locked the door. “Wait until we’re done with my place. You won’t recognize it.” He patted the posts that supported the front porch. “I’ve got lots of lights to wind around these, and then there are the blue icicles that hang above the upstairs windows.”
“You don’t expect me to put those up, do you?”
Dean laughed. “No, I have a much more important job for you. I need you to hold the ladder steady while I put them up. Normally I’d ask Kris—the guy you met here last weekend?—but he’s gone to see his dad who’s not doing so well.”
“Aw, that’s awful.” Robin recalled Kris vividly. “You know, I did think he was your boyfriend at the time.”
Dean arched his eyebrows. “What gave you that idea? Wait—scratch that. He sort of threw himself at me, didn’t he?” He chuckled. “Yeah, if I’d seen that, I’d have thought the same thing.” He opened the car doors, and they got in.
No sooner had Robin fastened his seat belt, than Dean’s phone burst into life. He answered it with a cautious “Hello?” Then his face cleared. “Mr. Davis. Good morning.”
Robin froze, not wanting to make a sound.
“Actually, I was going to call you. I figured you’d want to talk to me, once Robin shared his news… Yes, I’ll be driving there. It’s faster that way than taking the train.” He glanced at Robin, smiling. “Oh, I’m sure. Robin’s no bother, and I know he’ll love the performance.” He listened for a moment and then laughed. “Yes, he did tell me about that. He didn’t think the arts world is missing out by not having him dance… Yes, I’ll pick him up the Friday after lunch. If the traffic is with us, God willing, we can be in New York City by seven… Yes, I’ve already checked with the hotel, and they have a room for him… No, I wouldn’t hear of it… Thank you. I’m looking forward to it… Of course. I’ll make sure he calls you when we get there, and before we leave on the Sunday… Thank you for calling. If there’s anything else you want to tell me, or if there’s something I need to know, please call. Yes. Goodbye, Mr. Davis.” Dean disconnected the call.
Robin stared at him. “I take it my dad is happy?”
“I think I put his mind at ease. As far as he’s concerned, you’ll be well looked after while you’re in my care.” Dean smiled. “In fact, I intend to take very good care of you.” He lowered his voice. “And if it wasn’t for the fact that we’re sitting in my car in full view of my neighbors, I’d kiss you right now.”
“Later?” God knew Robin ached for Dean’s kiss.
“Later,” Dean promised. “Now let’s go find me a beautiful tree.” His eyes sparkled. “And then a sexy man can help me decorate it.”
Robin swallowed. “You need to understand something. I grew up with a twin who was continually telling me I had a face like a warthog, a baboon, you name it. Having you call me sexy? It takes some getting used to.”
“Then I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.” Dean grinned. “Now let’s go before my neighbors start to wonder what on earth we’re discussing so intently.” He switched on the engine, and pulled out into the street.
He’s going to take care of me.
Robin wasn’t thinking about navigating the streets of NYC, or getting to the theater.
He was thinking about a king-size bed.
“What do you think?” Dean stood beside a Fraser fir that was taller than he was.
Robin smiled. “It’s a beautiful shape, but you don’t think it’s a little too… tall?”
Judging by Dean’s mock glare, the answer to that was a resounding no. “There is no such thing as too tall when you’re talking about Christmas trees.” He pointed to another tree. “What about that one?”
Robin smirked. “It looks exactly like the one you’re holding.”
Dean narrowed his gaze. “I sense you’re not getting into the spirit of this quest.”
“We’re on a quest?” Robin was loving this.
“Of course. The quest to find the perfect tree.”
“Where is it going? It might help me to, you know, visualize it.” He bit back a smile.
Dean stared at him, as though mentally assessing if Robin was yanking his chain. “You know where my armchair is, next to the fireplace? There. That corner.”
“So where does the armchair go?”
That earned him another mock glare. “Someplace else, obviously.”
Robin decided to take the situation seriously. “Okay…” He glanced at the trees surrounding them. “That one.” He pointed to another Fraser fir.
Dean wandered over to look more closely. “Why this one?”
“It’s wider at the base, and it’s more of a conical shape. That would go really well in the corner.” He tried not to laugh. “Besides, you wouldn’t need to get out a saw and cut some off the top to stop it scraping the ceiling.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Are you sure about this?”
“About what?” Dean frowned.
“Having a tree.” When Dean stared at him blankly, Robin sighed. “Cats and Christmas trees. Not a good mix.”
“Lady’s never had a problem with one.”
“I wasn’t thinking of Lady,” Robin said with a chuckle.
“Oh.” His eyes widened. “Oh God. Loki.”
Robin nodded. “Who might live up to his name.”
Dean rubbed his bearded jaw. “Fuck it,” he said quietly. “That cat will have to get used to it.”
“And you might have to get used to sweeping up broken glass every time you come home from school.” Robin cocked his head. “You got any ornaments you wanna keep in one piece?”
Dean shook his head. “Mom has the decorations that belonged to my grandma. They date back to the fifties. I’ll get them when Mom goes. No, everything that goes on my tree is only a few years’ old, and there are no special memories attached to anything. So if the little bastard breaks a few, it’s no biggie.” He gazed at the tree Robin had pointed out. “You’re right. This one would be perfect.” He smiled. “Let’s tell them to chop this one, and then we’ll truss it up, tie it to the roof, and be on our way. We’ll be ready for lunch by the time we get back.” His eyes glittered. “And then you’re going to work your pretty ass off, helping me get everything up before nightfall.”
Robin grinned. “My ass is pretty, huh?”
“I’m guessing. I only saw the front part. And that was so pretty.” Dean stepped closer and leaned in. “I’ll let you know later if reality lives up to my imagination.”
Robin’s pulse quickened. “I thought we’re gonna be busy decorating. We won’t have time for anything else.”
Dean’s smile sent heat crawling over his skin, until he was sure his face and neck were flushed. “We’ll make time. We have more cherries to pop, remember?” And then Robin’s heart stuttered as Dean kissed him, slow as you please, not giving a damn who saw them. Not that there was anyone around who had a clue who they were anyway.
When he drew back, Dean sighed. “I could so easily become addicted to your lips.”
Robin thoug
ht he could become addicted to Dean, period.
The tree chopped down, paid for, trussed up and secured, they drove back to Lake Placid, singing along to the Christmas songs that were already playing on the radio.
Dean chuckled. “When I was a kid, you couldn’t have heard wall-to-wall Christmas songs playing on the seventh of December. My mom would never put up the tree until about two weeks before Christmas. These days, you see decorations in the stores as soon as Halloween is over.”
“Ryan used to wear my mom down, whining about putting up the tree. There was one year when he started griping the day after Thanksgiving.” Robin smiled at the memory. “Dad said if he didn’t shut up, he’d be spending Christmas in the boatyard with the mice and the spiders. That did the trick.”
“Has your dad always built canoes?”
Robin nodded. “Well, for as long as I can remember.”
“And how long have you wanted to work with him?”
“About the same time, I guess.” Robin’s earliest memories were of being with his dad in the office, sitting on his knee while Dad gazed at the computer screen.
“Those books on Art… did you buy them?”
Robin shook his head. “That was Mom. I used to sit on the couch with her and look at paintings in her encyclopedias. I think she’s kept all my drawings and paintings from when I was little. And as I got older, she’d buy me books, usually about the painters I’d liked.”
“Can I ask you something? Where do your parents think you are right now?”
Robin’s stomach clenched. “Remember when we went skiing, and a couple of friends came up to me when we were in the cafeteria? Well, one of them was Ben Taylor.”
“Ah. And that’s where you told them you’d be—at Ben’s place?” When Robin nodded, Dean sighed heavily. “You don’t like lying to them, do you?”
Robin jerked his head to stare at Dean. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’m beginning to know you a whole lot better. I do understand. They might think it a little odd that you’re hanging out with a guy who’s older than you, who you don’t really know all that well.”
Robin let out a long breath. “Does that worry you? The age difference, I mean.”
Dean turned his head briefly toward him. “Does it worry you?”
Robin smiled. “Not at all. That’s part of why I came to you in the first place.”
“You figured I’d know what I was doing,” Dean said with a grin.
“Kinda. Well… yes.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Dean declared. “Like I told you… I wish my first time had been with someone more experienced.” He chuckled. “I didn’t even think of doing what you did.”
“But they wouldn’t understand that. And it’s not like I can tell them… what’s going on.” His dad might call Robin a man, but when faced with the reality of their relationship, Robin knew he’d revert to being a child in their eyes. Their baby.
“So what happens if they find out?”
The thought had Robin’s stomach rolling over. “I don’t wanna think about that now.”
“I get that. But the best-kept secrets have a way of crawling into the light when we least expect it.” Dean reached over and patted Robin’s thigh. “It’ll be okay.”
Robin wished he were so certain of that. He intended to hide the situation from his parents for as long as possible.
They lapsed into silence for the rest of the trip home, Robin doing his best not to think about what might happen if his parents found out. We aren’t doing anything wrong, are we?
He had a sinking feeling his parents wouldn’t see it that way.
They pulled up in front of Dean’s garage, and Dean switched off the engine. “You’re allowed to change your mind, you know,” he said in a quiet voice.
“About what?” Robin whipped his head around so fast, it ached.
“This. Us. Sex.” Dean’s eyes were warm and compassionate. “It’s not as if we’ve done all that much.”
“Do you want to stop?” Robin’s heart started thumping.
Dean studied him in silence for a moment. “Being totally selfish? No, I don’t.” His hand was on Robin’s thigh, only now he stroked it gently. “But just because I want you doesn’t mean you have to go through with it. Not if you’re worried about your parents’ reaction.”
“I don’t wanna change my mind,” Robin said quickly. “These last few days, all I’ve done is think about you. About us.” He swallowed hard. “I want you too.” So much that it hurt.
“Then we don’t stop,” Dean said in an emphatic tone. “So let’s go inside, I’ll make us something to eat, and then we’ll see where the rest of the day takes us.”
“As long as there’s kissing involved, I’m in,” Robin declared.
Dean’s breathing hitched. “There will be kissing as soon as I get you inside,” he assured Robin.
Robin unfastened his seat belt. “Then why are we still sitting out here?”
Chapter Thirteen
The moment he closed the front door behind them, Dean knew he couldn’t wait another minute. The damn tree wasn’t going anywhere, right? He pulled Robin into his arms and kissed him. Robin’s soft moan of pleasure did wonders for his ego, and Dean cupped his nape to lock their lips. Robin’s arms were around his waist, his hands resting lightly against Dean’s lower back, almost as though he didn’t know what to do with them.
He’s nervous. That was understandable.
“Touch if you want to,” Dean murmured. “I don’t mind.”
Robin’s eyes widened. “Okay.” He stroked Dean’s back with gentle, hesitant hands.
Dean chuckled. “Go ahead. I know you want to touch my ass.”
“How did you—”
Dean kissed his neck, loving the shivers that rippled through Robin’s slender body. “That’s not me being arrogant, by the way. I’ve got a good memory, that’s all. I remember being your age. And if it makes you feel better, I want your hands there.” Robin slid his hands lower, cupping his ass, and Dean nodded. “Give it a good squeeze. Let me feel it.”
Robin grabbed him and squeezed hard. “It’s so… firm.”
Dean laughed. “Then all those squats paid off.” Then he caught his breath as Robin’s fingers slid beneath the waistband. “Ah, feeling a little intrepid, I see. Well, what comes first—lunch, or a little exploration?” He wondered in amusement which appetite would win.
Robin’s pupils dilated, his breathing quickened, and Dean had his answer.
“Boots off,” he instructed, toeing off his own. Robin complied in a flash. Dean grabbed Robin’s hand and led him to the stairs. “Let’s take this to my bedroom.”
Robin swallowed. “Okay.”
That was enough to bring him to a halt at the foot of the stairs. Dean drew Robin to him, holding his chin in his hand to tilt Robin’s face toward his. “Anytime you want to stop, just say, okay? We’ll only go as far as you want.”
“And if I want to go all the way?” Robin rolled his eyes. “God, way to go to sound like a horny teenager.”
Dean’s cock hardened at his words. “Let me show you what that does to me.” He brought Robin’s hand to his crotch, and pressed it against his erection. “That’s all you.” Robin’s breathing stuttered, and Dean nodded. “That’s what happens when I think of being inside you.”
“Fuck.” Robin cupped Dean’s shaft, lowering his gaze to look.
Dean barely caught the expletive. He was too busy picturing Robin naked in his bed, legs spread, inviting Dean to—
He shuddered. “Yes, fuck. You want that?”
Robin’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, please.”
Dean laughed. “Well, seeing as you’re being so polite…” He went up the stairs, still holding Robin’s hand, until they were outside his bedroom door. Dean pushed it open. “Give me a second to close the blinds. I don’t want my neighbors scoring us on our performance. Come in when I say.”
Then he went into the room, his hear
t hammering. Robin, in my bed.
Dean was going to do his damnedest to make it good for him.
He was also going to try his hardest not to come within ten seconds of being inside that delectable body.
Robin had only glimpsed Dean’s headboard when they’d Face-Timed. The full view was much more impressive. The bed had a carved post at each corner done in a dark, glossy wood, and one wall of the room was nothing but mirrored doors, behind which he assumed were Dean’s clothes. The bed was higher than Robin’s, with thick pillows and a solid blue comforter.
Then he forgot all about the room when Dean tugged him close, bending over to take Robin’s lips in a kiss that was nowhere as tender as their first. Within seconds Robin was breathless, wanting more. He grasped his sweater to remove it, but Dean stopped him.
“That’s my job,” he said with a smile. “And I’m in no hurry.” He locked gazes with Robin. “Are you?”
Robin took a couple of calming breaths. “No, I’m not.” Not exactly the truth, but he was willing to follow Dean’s lead.
Dean’s eyes sparkled. “Good.” Then he speared Robin with an intense gaze. “Important stuff first. I haven’t got anything I could pass onto you, okay? I get tested every three months, rain or shine, and there’s not a goddamn thing wrong with me.”
“Okay.” The seriousness of Dean’s focus brought home how vital the moment was. “Nothing to report here either. Not that I’ve gotten a test yet.”
Dean nodded. “Then now’s a good time to get into a regime. You get tested. You share the results with every partner, you got that?”
“I got it.” Robin’s mouth dried.
Dean’s face softened. “I’m not trying to kill the mood, honest. But you need to know this, okay?” Robin nodded, and Dean kissed him. He slid his hands under Robin’s sweater, and smiled. “No T-shirt this time.”
“Yeah. I was—”
“You were thinking ‘less clothes to take off’, weren’t you?”