28. Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Chuck
It was a damn nice hotel, which for Chuck meant he had to pay a valet to take care of his car for his one-night stand. Assuming he could call it that. Does it count as a one-night stand if it’s your second date? And the guy you’re doing it with has been at your house every day for the last two weeks?
Once Chuck passed off his keys, got his ticket, and tipped the valet a ten—this felt like a swanky enough place, ten dollars was the right call—he stepped through the revolving doors. Lucky for him, there was a giant mirror wall right in the front entrance, reflecting not only the sculptures dotted around the lobby, but Chuck himself. It had been a…weird balance to strike. He had to look like he was going on a date for the sake of the boys, even if Ryan was probably aware of his real intentions, but he also didn’t want to go too fancy. He hadn’t eaten dinner, and had made use of the new attachment in the shower, so he wasn’t feeling completely up to snuff. Wearing a suit and tie and slacks was not high on his list of preferred choices in that state. So he’d settled on a white polo and some corduroys with an elastic waist band that, thankfully, he could hide behind a belt.
Of course, the only one who should be looking at that area probably wasn’t so concerned with what he was wearing, but it made him feel a little more confident. He also thought it looked better on him than all those tight, restrictive clothes would.
He double-checked his phone for the room number, then headed into the elevator. It was a short, fast ride, the kind that almost made his head spin. But it let him out onto the fourth floor sooner, which was good in his book. Even if his empty stomach was now suddenly filled with butterflies and fireworks. A few more steps and a knock on the door. That was it.
He didn’t fully remember walking to Robinson’s door, although he must have been paying enough attention to follow the signs. Now room 4027 stood just on the other side of that door.
Chuck knocked and, almost instantly, the door opened. Robinson was…almost too good to believe. He hadn’t needed to get past any nosy sons, so his attire was…a little more conventional for their purpose. And a lot more inviting, even though his cheeks were red and he seemed to struggle to make eye contact in spite of his smile.
Chuck also wasn’t spending much time looking at his face. Robinson was shirtless, with his abdomen softly inviting. A small patch of pale hair sat in the center of his chest, and peeked out from under each armpit, but he was smooth aside from that. He was in a pair of basketball shorts and, from the imprint visible, Chuck would bet money he was going commando. His legs had some fine, pale hair, but again, not much. He was, all-in-all, well-defined, but not overrun with muscle. Skinny, to be sure, but not skin and bones either.
Robinson took a step back, making a little space. “Come on in. I can put on something a little more appropriate if you want, but—”
“God no.” Chuck slipped inside, sucking in his belly a little bit and wishing he would have spent the last year at the gym instead of wallowing. Even though Robinson had never made a single bad remark about him, and had been in his house all this time and probably knew what he was getting into.
Need to stop the internal monologue if it’s going to be such an asshole.
Robinson pushed the door closed and latched it, then headed over to the bed. “If this is uncomfortable or anything—”
Chuck wrapped his hands around Robinson’s midsection, feeling the soft warmth against his palms, and pulled Robinson close. “I think…if we talk about it too much, I’m going to talk myself out of it.”
“If you want to be talked out of it—”
“I don’t.” Chuck heard the snap in his voice, and even though he could tell it was panic, he didn’t want to leave any room for Robinson to think he was upset. “I want to do this, but grief and anxiety and lots of other emotions that aren’t useful to me would take hold and…I don’t mean to keep interrupting you every time you try to talk, but I spent a long time completely beholden to those feelings.” He’d been doing this dance in his head all night, but seeing Robinson already almost naked was apparently the final catalyst to kick it all into gear. He pulled Robinson in close so their middles touched and slid his hands around to rub up and down Robinson’s back. “I don’t want to think tonight. I just want to be present.” Which was a big ask for himself, but it was something he felt like he needed.
Robinson slowly brought his arms up and wrapped them around Chuck, pulling the two of them even closer. There was so much strength in those arms in spite of all appearances to the contrary, like two steel bars holding him close. It was a way Chuck hadn’t been touched in so long, but as he braced himself for a flood of memories and guilt…it didn’t come. Instead, he just remembered Andrew. His husband. His love.
And As Robinson played with the hem of his shirt, Chuck felt right for the first time in way, way too long.