Chapter Fourteen
Dean lay in bed, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over his bedroom through the cream blinds. A warm body nestled in his arms, and Robin’s even breathing was the only sound in the room.
This is heaven.
He hadn’t intended on taking a nap. It had sort of snuck up on them. Not that Dean was surprised Robin had fallen asleep. He’d been wiped out. Dean breathed in Robin’s smell, relishing the feel of his body against Dean’s, the touch of his hand covering Dean’s on his chest.
I could get used to this.
Most of his hook-ups took place in hotel rooms or motels. It was safer than bringing them back to his place. Some school boards required LGBT staff to be more accountable than their straight counterparts, not that Dean had ever run into that kind of trouble.
He was careful to keep his personal life away from prying eyes.
Then it occurred to him that Robin was already way more than a casual hook-up. Dean had no idea where this was going, but he loved it so far.
Robin stirred in his arms, and Dean stilled, unwilling to burst the wonderful bubble that encapsulated them. I want to hold onto this.
Yeah. That feeling right there told him Robin had become a lot more than a younger guy popping his cherry.
Dean had to admit, Robin’s bed hair was kinda cute. He glanced at Robin’s sleeping form, loving how he held onto Dean’s hand as if determined to keep them connected.
How long can we stay like this?
It was a tempting thought, but Dean had to eat something. And then there were the Christmas lights to put up, not to mention decorating the tree.
The Christmas tree that was still strapped to the roof of his car.
Hey, I got distracted. And what a gorgeous distraction. Dean could quite happily spend the rest of Saturday in bed with Robin. But we can’t.
He kissed Robin’s head. “Hey. Wake up.”
Robin stirred in his arms and rolled over to face him, his hair adorably tousled. “Hmm?” Then he gave a sleepy smile. “Hey.”
Dean stroked his cheek. “Ready for lunch now?” Before Robin could answer, a loud grumble erupted from his stomach, and Dean grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes. How does a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup sound?”
Robin beamed. “Sounds amazing.”
“Then why don’t I get on that, while you do something with your hair?” Dean tried not to chuckle.
Robin’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, what do I look like?”
“There are two possible answers to that question,” Dean told him.
He kissed Robin on the mouth, taking his time.
“You look like you just got fucked,” he whispered.
Robin’s breathing hitched, and Dean kissed him again.
“You also look cute as hell.” It was an effort to tear himself away.
“I’ll go downstairs and start lunch. The bathroom is through there, if you want to…
tidy yourself up a bit.” And there it was again, the urge to take Robin in his arms, pull the comforter over their heads, and kiss him all over.
Another rumble from Robin’s stomach put paid to that idea.
Dean threw back to the comforter, grabbed his jeans from the floor, and squirmed into them. He pulled on the sweater and tried not to gaze at Robin lying on the rumpled sheet, looking so amazingly tempting.
Lunch. Make the goddamn lunch.
By the time the soup was simmering and the aroma of melted cheese filled the kitchen, Robin was there, his hair only a little tamer than before. He ran his fingers through the longer bit on top, and Dean laughed.
“Leave it. You look fine.” He looked a damn sight better than fine.
Robin looked goddamn edible. Dean pointed to the table.
“Take a seat. It’s coming right up.” When Robin sat with great care, Dean frowned.
“Are you okay? Scratch that—stupid question.” He remembered his first time.
After Darryl was done with him, Dean had walked like he’d spent a few hours riding a horse.
Then Dean smiled to himself. Darryl’s dick had been on the large side, so maybe the comparison was more apt than he’d thought.
Robin gave a sheepish grin. “It kinda aches, but it’s a good ache, if you get my drift.”
Dean laughed. “Oh, I do. Not that I get the chance to enjoy the ache very often.” He turned off the heat and poured the soup into bowls. Then he sliced the grilled cheese sandwiches and put them on plates. He brought them over to the table and took a seat facing Robin.
“Can I ask something a bit personal?”
Dean blinked. “I’m not sure it gets any more personal than what we did. Fire away.”
“I’m not sure how to ask this, but… it’s what you said just now. When… when you’re with a guy… do you like to…?”
Dean got where he was headed. “If you’re asking if I like to both give and receive—putting it as politely as I can—then the answer is yes.
However, most of the guys I’ve hooked up with in my not very extensive experience, have liked to bottom.
I’m happy with that.” He gave Robin a speculative glance.
“Do you think you’d like to see what it feels like from the other side? ”
“I’m not sure.” Robin bit his lip in that adorable way of his. “Whenever I thought about… you know… I was on the receiving end.”
“You never cease to amaze me,” Dean said with a smile. “One minute you’re shy about expressing yourself, and the next, you’re bold as brass.”
Robin’s cheeks flushed. “Think about it. My parents don’t talk to me about this stuff, and then I have Ryan who has no filter. I figured he was the better role model when it came to talking about sex.” He snickered. “So sometimes I channel Ryan.”
Dean locked gazes with him. “I’ve got a much better idea. Be you.”
Robin cleared his throat. “So it’s not wrong if I like being a… receiver?” That flush on his cheeks was sexy as fuck.
“There’s no right or wrong way,” Dean said decisively. “It’s however you want to do things. And if you’re happy bottoming, then that’s fine.”
Robin put down his spoon. “You don’t want me to…?”
Dean forgot about his own growling stomach. This was more important. “Only if you want to, okay?” He grinned. “But if you’re happy being a bottom, I’ll go with that. What I’m trying to say here is… say what you need. What you want.”
Robin’s eyes gleamed. “So if I want to tie you to the bed, you’d let me?”
God, Robin was definitely a fast learner.
Dean gave a casual shrug. “I have a collection of ties you could use.”
Robin’s breathing hitched, and his eyes were like saucers.
“Fuck, your expression…”
“What about it?”
Dean chuckled. “It’s a mix between ‘OMG did he really say that?’ and ‘Go fetch the ties.’”
A tide of red emerged from beneath Robin’s neckline and crept over his face.
“I guess what I’m trying to say to you here is… sex is healthy. It’s not wrong. It’s to be enjoyed.” Dean tilted his head. “You looked like you enjoyed the fuck out of your first time.”
Robin bit his lip. “It showed, huh?”
“Oh, there might have been a few clues,” he teased.
“But you should never feel afraid to voice your needs. Only, be prepared not to get what you want every time. I am not a vending machine.” He smirked.
“Sometimes the slot gets stuck.” When Robin’s brow furrowed, Dean sighed.
“Real life sex is not like porn, okay? Some things are okay to watch—and that’s as far as I’ll go with them.
” He wasn’t about to get into specifics—it was way too early in the scheme of things to be discussing fetishes and kinks.
Robin let out a wry chuckle. “My brother might have more of an idea what you’re talking about. I think he has me beat when it comes to porn.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with porn—in moderation.” Dean regarded him thoughtfully. “You could always watch it with me sometime.”
Robin stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Hell yeah.”
“You… you wouldn’t mind?”
Dean laughed. “Only if you get ideas about putting some things into practice. But back to your original question. If you want to stick to bottoming, there’s nothing wrong with that.
One role isn’t better than the other, okay?
I know there are guys out there who will tell you bottoming makes you less of a man.
As far as I’m concerned, that’s macho shit. ”
Apparently, that was what Robin needed to hear. He nodded before picking up his spoon and taking his first mouthful of soup. When he’d swallowed it, he murmured, “Feels like I sat a class in Sex 101.”
“Too much information?” The last thing Dean wanted was to come across as preachy.
Robin shook his head. “Just right.”
Dean’s stomach growled, and he gave a chuckle. “I think that’s my body telling me to shut the fuck up and eat something.”
They ate in a comfortable silence. Dean liked that Robin didn’t feel the need to talk all the time. It had to be a rare quality in someone his age, but then again Robin was pretty mature for eighteen.
He continually surprises me. Dean liked that a lot. He also liked that they’d gotten a few things out into the open. It paved the way for more… lessons.
Because he knew Robin wanted more.
And I want more of him. Any way I can get him.
Robin stepped back to look at the Christmas tree. “I don’t think there’s space for one more decoration,” he commented. He had to admit, the tinsel was a nice touch. “Mom doesn’t put tinsel on our tree.”
“It was something we always had when I was a kid,” Dean remarked. He glanced over to the couch where Loki and Lady were watching the proceedings with great interest. “Of course, there’s always the possibility that Loki will try to eat it or wear it.”
Robin laughed. “I did warn you. I think Loki had better get used to living in the bathroom.” He peered at the couple of boxes standing by the coffee table. “What’s in those?”
“The lights for the pillars outside. And that’s our next job. Besides, by the time we’re finished, it will be dark enough to switch them on.”