44. Chapter 44
Chapter forty-four
Robinson
The plan was…unclear, to say the least. Are we going straight back to fucking? Robinson didn’t know, and he didn’t want to push forward and end up being wrong, so he simply stood and waited. Chuck’s hand in his was nice enough to satisfy him for the moment, even as his belly tightened and his head spun, trying to find something he could latch onto.
Chuck let him go and walked straight over to the shiplap feature wall. “I don’t know if this is too weird, but I haven’t been able to go through these photo albums. Ever since they got pulled out of the bathroom.” He gently removed an ivory-colored one from the shelf, then brought it over to the bed. “I don’t want to immediately dump dead husband stuff on you, but…he’s a part of my life. And the boys’ lives. I…”
Robinson stepped up to him. “You don’t need to explain.” Robinson’s body actually relaxed. The thought of jumping straight back into bed with Chuck wasn’t unappealing , to be sure, but it felt better to take some time and decompress. They liked each other, but it wouldn’t be bad to get to know each other better.
Chuck sat down on the small bench at the foot of the bed, and Robinson lowered down next to him. Right next to him, touching hip to hip.
Chuck laid the album down on his right leg, then opened the book so the front cover rested on Robinson’s left. Right away, there were pictures, and Robinson looked down. One of them was obviously Chuck, although several years younger. He was alone, wearing a tight, gray-striped tank top and grinning, with the ocean behind him. Judging from the image quality, it was probably from the early two-thousands. “Look at baby you.”
Chuck laughed softly. “I have actual baby me pictures tucked away in one of these. This was just me when I could actually bend over and touch my toes without needing an ER visit after.” He pointed to the one below it, which was Chuck again, probably around the same age, surrounded by trees. “This was the one and only time I actually went camping. In case you ever get any bright ideas that you want to spend a weekend in the mountains or something stupid.”
“I was in jail . That’s enough hard living for me for the rest of my life. Mountains are for visiting, when you have a nice place to go back to.”
“I knew I liked you.” Chuck flipped slowly through the pages, walking Robinson through the highlights, and it was surprisingly fascinating. He got to see Chuck’s parents, who were both at least several inches shorter than him in all the pictures. He got to see the boys when they were younger, opening Christmas presents and playing outside and swimming at the beach.
And there were pictures of Andrew, which Chuck lingered on, telling stories about each of them. Nick and Colby really did look like him. Fine features, slim build, black hair, and a broad smile in every single photograph. If he was going to make a call, Robinson would say he looked more like Colby than Nick, but in all the pictures where he was with those boys, there was zero doubt he was their dad.
“This is…our wedding picture.” Chuck took a deep breath, in through his nose. “Sorry.”
Robinson leaned in, resting his head on Chuck’s shoulder. “You make it sound like you only got one.”
“We did.” He brushed his fingertips over the photo. “Andrew wanted to hire his friend from high school who was trying to start his photography business. Zero of the pictures turned out except this one, right when we were doing the ‘kiss the groom’ moment. Which I guess is the right time to actually get a good one.”
It was a good picture, Robinson had to admit. They were both in sleek, black suits, holding hands. An arch of white roses stretched above them. The minister was faded into the background, and something about the lighting made it look like Andrew and Chuck were almost glowing as they leaned into each other, locking lips.
Chuck laughed low. “I’m sorry. I guess showing you pics of me making out at my wedding isn’t quite the right foot to start back on.”
Robinson leaned back just enough that he could make proper eye contact with Chuck. “Remember when you got on my ass for not getting over my past? Stop acting like I hate that you were with someone else. Deal?”
Chuck pressed his forehead against Robinson’s. “Deal. I guess.”
He didn’t seem convinced, and Robinson wanted him to be as okay as possible about all this. So he kept going. “I like that you had someone. How many fuckboys are running around well past the time when that’s acceptable, moaning about how unhappy they are and jumping from guy to guy every time their phone pings? I’m just supposed to throw everything in with whichever one of them decides he wants to put his dick in me?”
“It’s certainly fun , you have to admit that.”
“No I don’t.” Robinson leaned back, looking at the ceiling. “It was fun for a while. But so was a lot of stuff. Sneaking out of my parents’ house when I was teenager was fun, but that doesn’t mean it was the right call. Hooking up with randos was great at the time, but I’m over it.” He looked back down and placed his hands on top of Chuck’s. “When you’re sixteen and you’ve just got your license, you want a shiny red convertible that can go vroom vroom and beat all the other cars at the stoplight. Even though it’s expensive and dangerous and you’re probably going to crash it in two weeks.”
“I work at a college, so I like to think I’m smart, but I’m not following the metaphor here.”
“Point is, I’m ready for a Corolla, and Andrew is just a big, flashing neon sign that tells me there’s no problems with the model I’m checking out.”
“Did that need to be so convoluted? And compare me to an economy car known for being boring but reliable?”
“Who told you a Corolla is boring?” Robinson leaned forward and pecked Chuck on the lips. “You need a car that can get you to all sorts of new, exciting destinations, you pick the one that comes with air conditioning, a radio, and safety awards.” Another kiss and he ran his hands down Chuck’s chest, finally pulling his shirt open button by button as he spoke. “Because it’s not how shiny and expensive the car is that makes a road trip good. It’s what you do with the car.”
Chuck pressed his lips to Robinson’s. With one hand, he set the photo album down on the floor, and with the other, he traced up and down Robinson’s spine, his touches feather-soft through the fabric of Robinson’s shirt.
He rolled the both of them back onto the bed and, when Chuck finally pulled away from the kiss, he growled, “Wanna go for a ride in my Corolla?”